whiskygalore: (Jensen 2)
Okay, maybe not a new me - although that wouldn't be a bad thing - but a new name. Kiltsocks is no more. As attached as I am to my kiltsocks username I thought it was about time to organise my accounts so my name is consistent. And as whiskygalore is my ao3, tumblr and Twitter name it seems easiest to change to that.

So if this weird whiskygalore chick shows up on your friends page or in your comments it's just kiltsocks in disguise!

Thank you!

Sep. 8th, 2014 10:36 am
whiskygalore: (Jensen)
Thank you for the lovely birthday wishes for yesterday!

To be honest, between hubby being away and my kitchen flooding I didn't have the best birthday ever, but dinner out with my family, a big glass of wine, and kind messages from my friends here made up for it!

Thank you to [livejournal.com profile] majestic_duxk and [livejournal.com profile] dimeliora for their messages, [livejournal.com profile] somersault_j for the very cool (Jensen) astronaut, [livejournal.com profile] saltandburnboys for the birthday balloons and the promise of fic, which is brilliant news for everyone, and thanks as well to [livejournal.com profile] meus_venator for the awesome head! LJ head obviously, which I love :D

You are all wonderful, thank you!!!




whiskygalore: (Jensen)
First heart stopping moment of the year - getting dressed this morning, squeezing into my skinny black jeans, yanking them up desperately, genuinely close to crying when they get wedged half-way up my wobbly thighs. Memories of every chocolate orange, every slice of Christmas cake and glass of red wine that had passed my lips over the last few weeks flashing before my teary eyes. I know I've gained a few pounds over Christmas but the vague plan of dieting suddenly turned into a very immediate and miserable necessity.

Then after collapsing onto my bed in an admittedly melodramatic fashion, I suddenly recalled the blazing argument I had with my son last night about the fact he'd lost a pair of black jeans I'd bought him before Christmas. Accusations were made, tempers were frayed and laundry raked through. It all ended rather acrimoniously. I peeled the jeans from my legs, frantically searching for the label and yes... I do not fit into age 13 boys skinny jeans. And yes I did apologise to my son.

Still, my jeans fit me and once I recovered from the shock, I did find the whole thing pretty damn hilarious. At least the only one that saw me nearly sobbing in despair and then laughter was the dog.

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