Honeymoon in Scotland. 1 of 2

I often forget that Fred and I are married – 

9 months now I have been Mrs Circus. 

The celebrations are not over yet, since one of our dearest Ottomar decided to treat us with honeymoon tickets to Scotland. He was really humble about the gift. However, Ottamar is definitely winning, as we got only two wedding gifts and the other one was toilet paper...

Ottomar and I had been to Scotland before (post 1 & 2). Three words that need no explaining: 

I love Scotland.

Day 1

Our trip started in summery Riga.

Here's to you bitches that can make face-planting look planned and classy:

I love Riga, since I love food! 

9,99 € = all you can eat buffet:

Aaaaaaand we landed in Glasgow 20 minutes apart.

LET THE ROMANTIC HONEYMOON BEGIN!:

All the birthdays and honeymoons needed a glass of German Sovetskoje:

This happens when Paula and I do not discuss our poses beforehand,

great minds just think alike (although some are more limber than others):

Berlin and relationships changes people,

clothes tend to fly off more easily:

Waldo is not on this picture,

but can you spot four Estonians?:

Glasgow Necropolis is absolutely stunning:

I still honestly believe that European Union rules, especially Erasmus exchange program. 

It unites people and it brought Charlie into my life!:

Everybody is posing real hard, 

but Paula casually is winning with a whole plant on her head:

Sometimes we wonder how they put up with us, but then we remember,

oh, we put up with them, so we were very much even:

Day 2

Randomly during a pee-break, I checked the whisky passports Charlie gave us

and discovered that notable distillery Blair Athol was just next to us.

Free dram of whisky and distillery tour – don't mind if I do:

A quick crash course of whisky for beginners:

As we continued to drive, mountains crew taller. 

Like here, inside there was an ordinary diner, however

outside there were astonishing scenery which looked like Frodo's backyard:

Cairngorm Mountain Railway was bitchin' and also highest mountain railway in the UK:

Hi, mom! Look, I am high!:

I got so used to with the landscape, that later on in flat Estonia 

I saw mountains everywhere thanks to clouds and my mind playing a trick on me:

The honeymooners:

I ruined perfectly awesome couple picture with my existence:

I love you with all my heart and genitals:

Ain't no mountain high enough,

ain't no river wide enough:

Influential influencers influencing

#OOTD

Try counting sheep in Scotland...

Good luck with that!

Iverness was one of the coolest places we stayed for the night.

The AirBnb host had even baked us a chocolate cake, 5 star review came with an ease:

The amount on fish and chips I ate during that week was just ridiculous:

Day 3

That day fog was hugging Scotland very tightly.

We stopped at a remote place in utter silence and that, my friends, was one blissful moment:

True stoners:

#blessed #nomakeup #fakeyogapose

Do you see that the mountain has a huge butt?

Mentally it was really difficult to hike, since I was pretty sure that I will fall into the waterfall and die, since my panic attack though it is the only possible result. However, after the narrow mountain path, the result was all worth the mind fuck:

Looking at the responsibilities that stayed behind us at home:

Day 4

The. worst. night. ever. Literally.

We had our first meeting with the only scumbag of Scotland – the midge. 

Their Estonian relative is nothing compared to them. The hell was real, but we survived:

Next stop was Oban distillery, 

where yet again boys got to smell happiness:

Locals warned us several times that the warn weather and sun was very un-Scottish

and it usually isn't warmer than Portugal:

Pleasure craft operators, one licensed the other one freelanced:

Dear colleagues, sorry for reheating seafood at work. 

Sincerely Wilma, who loves all the shit that comes out of sea, 

but just is not willing to jump in herself:

Influencer influencing behind the scenes:

To be continued...

Me, myself and I on my birthday

It was a beautiful spring day back in 1991, when my mama welcomed me into this world on backseat of a Žiguli. Yes, I was born somewhere on Tartu motorway. This explains why patience is not on my virtue list, on the contrary, I am always in a rush.

There is one day in every year, when I can stop being humble and post 18 pictures of myself in different angles, because surviving another 365 days around the sun needs some ego celebration.

I woke up like this. Seriously my lips are naturally that colourful:

You know those old ladies, who pose with their birthday flowers?

Yes, that's me now:

For me this corner was full of joy,

for Fred it was full of allergies.

Sometimes lose, always win:

THIS MELON IS ON FIRE (sing with Alicia Keys voice):

 Did not know that the picture was taken. Nevermind that I personally set up the timer and posed for this, 

I still claim that this was totally unexpected:

Despite the age, my hair growth on my head and legs is amazing:

Lilac is my favourite flower bush:

That moment when you look at Estonian Idol and all the contestants are born after year 2000...

Jaw dropper:

For my birthday I got this amazing activity watch! It analyses my sleep cycles and reads my pulse,

what a time to be alive!

Wilma is now 27, which means more expensive travel and life insurance.

YASSSS!

That is one massive blood vessel on my hand,

120 ppm running though my veins:

Enjoy those rare moments of life,

when you can see your own toes:

High fashion is born only with full bladder:

Not afraid to show my dirty laundry:

A minute on my lips, a lifetime on my hips:

Another picture to Photoshop a penis on:

My ego let my blog husband Fred on the picture.

Now I can humbly say that this post was only 99,9% about me:

Wilma 365 days around the Sun

First year of masters done! One might think that I have become a bit smarter, however I actually have lost plenty of brain cells. 

Sometime lose, always win!

Nobody got time to whine, let's now move forward and concentrate on the most important annual festival "Wilma 365 days around the Sun". This year I had a party before the real date, hence the post order. Also, let's embrace the fact that the older you get, the better you get, unless you are a banana.

I usually start my parties early, like afternoon or so, then all my busy friends can squeeze me into their busy schedules. Let's be honest, I have been a sucky friend, since I have ignored them the whole year, so I was pretty sure that nobody will show up. It turned up better than expected!

#blessed #OOTD #wokeuplikethis:

The party was dedicated to our alcohol leftovers, since all the 289 bottles could have been poured together into 3 bottles. All our cupboards, shelves and even bathtub were full of bottles.

 My king of cocktails was cooking liquid lunch all evening long:

I am very conservative and I do not like to break traditions.

Of course I had a quiz about myself, it's called "Best friend or unfriend".

Also, this time everyone had a chance to win, since Ottomar the Ultimate Winner was in Berlin:

Couldn't ignore the fact that Harry married Meghan,

the one that got away...:

He remembered that he left the stove on at home, 

but we were like "Let the mofo burn!":

Casually telling Valdo Jahilo jokes:

"Hello, I'm Nigerian princess, could you give me money"

(T-LO won the "Friend or unfriend" quiz and scored the fabulous T-shirt):

I love you guys, but I like gifts more:

My favourite bitches to bitch about bitches:

I am now old enough to realise these cakes will be 

just second on my lips

and lifetime on my hips:

Unintentionally demonstrating the flower sea my friends showered me with:

My favourite cake lady thought my Fred some yummy recipes

and now he is literally my sugar daddy:

Let there be ketchup on the table

and people are happy:

He came straight from Tartu,

his phone run out of battery,

he went to Circle K and asked the sales assistant to write me.

I went to search for him, we found each other, we did not want to let go:

"Best friend or unfriend" round 56

(Tableforrest got relly high points, super proud!)

NOW LISTEN TO MY FAVOURITE EUROVISION SONGS

WITH A BIG SMILE!

I am made out of sugar and spice and everything nice:

This should be his Tinder profile picture

(he is a lean mean hugging machine):

I will always mess up their names and they love me still.

Karlur!:

A wild potato appeared!

That early morning we were wondering if it was a random act or a gang sign:

QUICK! 

Jump into the rubbish bin, no time to explain!

STUFF! MORE STUFF!

It was a bliss to fall asleep 6AM, when sun had already risen.

The party lasted 15 hours, and the headache lasted 15 hours more.

Here is a little Ibumetin commercial:

In case you were wondering this was the answer for "My favourite Eurovision song" question: 

PMS - Preparing Myself for Summer

Today I am not all glitter and unicorns, instead I am dark grey and crocodile. This said, I have a really bad mood. The higher the post amount on this blog = the better Wilma is doing mentally and physically. Do the math yourself. First of all schoolwork is growing over my head, however I am actively doing nothing to prevent this from happening. You might charge the batteries, give them a high voltage kick, but face the fact, the batteries are dead. Actually life is good and I'm whining like a white girl who cannot find Starbucks. Or like when you want to eat chips, but cannot hear the TV...or when you are hungry, but you have just brushed your teeth. Let's write this stress off on PMS as usual (being in denial that PMS does not last 24/7/365)

This weekend I got my mind off of my first world problems 

and had guests over from Sweden. 

Ze German, ze Norwegian and bunch of Estonian walked into a bar...

Now the butter is cold and I tried to spread it on my toast, but the latter ripped. 

Fuck my life!