Thursday 9 February 2012
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Never kiss a gift horse on the mouth
I am now 24 and feel like it is probably (and I mean probably) time to grow up. One of my best friends is married with children, another best friend is getting married this year (for which I am bridesmaid). Me? I am not one who would like to wed and be knocked up just yet, but I do think I need to sort myself out a little.
The boyfriend went from school to do an apprenticeship, to work for the company with which he did the apprenticeship, and has been there ever since. On matters of career, we do not ask him for advice (although he does tend to offer it anyway).
Until now, I have never been in a job where I actually look forward to going to work in the morning (although this fair morn, I did wish work started three hours later, as I was a sleepy cat). My day is always so jam packed that I do not even notice the time fly, plus, no two days are the same. For example, yesterday I was in Scotland, today I was not.
Not so long ago, I had an opportunity, which meant that I had to make a decision about where I saw myself in a year or two. I made a decision, I then had a tarot reading regarding that decision, the tarot cards told me I was right, I was happy. I am still happy, although my situation has had no change, I do not look back at the moment and regret it for a second. The boyfriend does. As I said, he gets no input when it comes to career advice.
So where do I see myself in two years? Hopefully still working in marketing. Hopefully still with the boyfriend. Hopefully with no stretch marks on my tummy from pregnancy (4/5 years before stretchmarkitus).
I've come this far, I now actually work 40 hours a week instead of boozing for that length of time. Believe it or not, I have even begun to pay off my student loan. Ok, the amount is so insignificant it seems I will be working until I am 500 to completely pay it off, but I am doing it all the same. At least I am not at uni now, I'd be looking at triple the loan to pay off!
I am wondering if, perhaps, one does not make the decision that now one is 24 one must become grown up. Perhaps, one grows up without noticing? I am going on my first boyfriend/girlfriend holiday abroad this year. I have been living with said boyfriend for almost a year. I do housework. I keep the cats alive (which reminds me that I must water the plant that my friend gave me for my birthday. I would like to add "keeps mini trees alive" to my list of grown up things). I always brush my teeth, every morning and night, without being told to do so. Yes, I think I am pretty grown up already.
Although, deciding to be grown up could be the opportunity to develop a new look? Maybe some new clothes, a manicure? Although, my current look did get me the 'Craziest Dresser' award at the work Christmas party. I got an Oscar and a certificate (which now resides in a rather *cough* understated *cough* frame on my desk at work).
No, it is decided, I will stay exactly the same. Maybe I'll read some self help books on how to be successful. I love self help books. They are my own form of DIY. They work too you know. I can prove it. Well, maybe speculation doesn't count as proof. I think they help. They give you all kinds of cliches and things that 'people say'. We don't know who these people are, or why they say these things, but they are one of two things; so wise I don't understand them, or so beautifully simple that there has to be sense in their words.
My boyfriend says some funny things, I think that he must be one of 'people'. He says thing like "colder than a witches t*t". I don't know if it is a Somerset phrase, but I have lived in Somerset almost my whole life and I had never heard it before then. I told him that it is untrue anyway as a witches breasticles would be warm and clammy because they stand over a brewing cauldron all day long, or check that the oven is hot enough for chidling cooking. Witches mosquito bites are most definitely not cold. If he would like to describe the weather outside in this manner, I will only assume that it is hot and sticky. Blooming greenhouse effect!
The boyfriend went from school to do an apprenticeship, to work for the company with which he did the apprenticeship, and has been there ever since. On matters of career, we do not ask him for advice (although he does tend to offer it anyway).
Until now, I have never been in a job where I actually look forward to going to work in the morning (although this fair morn, I did wish work started three hours later, as I was a sleepy cat). My day is always so jam packed that I do not even notice the time fly, plus, no two days are the same. For example, yesterday I was in Scotland, today I was not.
Not so long ago, I had an opportunity, which meant that I had to make a decision about where I saw myself in a year or two. I made a decision, I then had a tarot reading regarding that decision, the tarot cards told me I was right, I was happy. I am still happy, although my situation has had no change, I do not look back at the moment and regret it for a second. The boyfriend does. As I said, he gets no input when it comes to career advice.
So where do I see myself in two years? Hopefully still working in marketing. Hopefully still with the boyfriend. Hopefully with no stretch marks on my tummy from pregnancy (4/5 years before stretchmarkitus).
I've come this far, I now actually work 40 hours a week instead of boozing for that length of time. Believe it or not, I have even begun to pay off my student loan. Ok, the amount is so insignificant it seems I will be working until I am 500 to completely pay it off, but I am doing it all the same. At least I am not at uni now, I'd be looking at triple the loan to pay off!
I am wondering if, perhaps, one does not make the decision that now one is 24 one must become grown up. Perhaps, one grows up without noticing? I am going on my first boyfriend/girlfriend holiday abroad this year. I have been living with said boyfriend for almost a year. I do housework. I keep the cats alive (which reminds me that I must water the plant that my friend gave me for my birthday. I would like to add "keeps mini trees alive" to my list of grown up things). I always brush my teeth, every morning and night, without being told to do so. Yes, I think I am pretty grown up already.
Although, deciding to be grown up could be the opportunity to develop a new look? Maybe some new clothes, a manicure? Although, my current look did get me the 'Craziest Dresser' award at the work Christmas party. I got an Oscar and a certificate (which now resides in a rather *cough* understated *cough* frame on my desk at work).
No, it is decided, I will stay exactly the same. Maybe I'll read some self help books on how to be successful. I love self help books. They are my own form of DIY. They work too you know. I can prove it. Well, maybe speculation doesn't count as proof. I think they help. They give you all kinds of cliches and things that 'people say'. We don't know who these people are, or why they say these things, but they are one of two things; so wise I don't understand them, or so beautifully simple that there has to be sense in their words.
My boyfriend says some funny things, I think that he must be one of 'people'. He says thing like "colder than a witches t*t". I don't know if it is a Somerset phrase, but I have lived in Somerset almost my whole life and I had never heard it before then. I told him that it is untrue anyway as a witches breasticles would be warm and clammy because they stand over a brewing cauldron all day long, or check that the oven is hot enough for chidling cooking. Witches mosquito bites are most definitely not cold. If he would like to describe the weather outside in this manner, I will only assume that it is hot and sticky. Blooming greenhouse effect!
Saturday 7 January 2012
Rality vs Telly
It's happened, I fell at the first hurdle. I did not go for a jog this morning!!!
Well, I went for a two hour aerobics class instead, so it isn't a complete fail. In fact, it's probably a bit better than just a jog, where, let's face it, I'd have probably strolled the whole way. I have also told the bride to be that I will join her in any gym classes she may be doing, the one proviso is that I shall not attend body pump. Women were not made to lift weights.
We were talking at work the other day about people on TV who are from Somerset all being the biggest stereotypes ever. They don't have a Yeovil Shore or Made in Martock! The telly programme us Somerset lot feature on is more often than not Jeremy Kyle.
I remember, years and years ago, a story on GMTV about a man living in Yeovil who had severe complaints from his neighbours due to the amount of chickens he kept in his back garden!
No wonder when I went to uni they all took the piss of me for where I'm from. I brought one mate back home for a night out in Yeovil, and on the drive she was made up that she saw sheep in a field, we were stuck behind a tractor and we went over a little stone bridge. Oh how the other half live!
I only resent the stereotype, because I am not one of them! I was born in Yeovil, grew up in Yeovil, and the only time I left Yeovil, was the three years that I was in uni at Southampton, but I soon came back to Yeovil! Yet, despite all that, I do not own anything Adidas, I wash my hair on a regular basis, there is no doubt who my father is and I did not get preggo at 13. All of my friends are like this too, yet the only people I have ever seen from Yeovil on television are like this.
I was almost on telly once. When I was little I entered a competition on the TV show that made Fearne Cotton who she is today, Diggit. I wrote a mystery story. The prize was that you got to go on to the show and read your story, and then you won your height in books. That would have been a lot of books too, as I've always been tall.
We were on holiday at the time, in a caravan somewhere. The weather was pants, mum got fed up, and we left our British holiday early. When we got home there was a ,message on our answer phone from the people at Diggit inviting me to be a prize winner. A couple of weeks previously, Fearne Cotton herself had read my name on TV in reference to my story when they were discussing entrants. I thought that was the best it was going to get. Unfortunately for me, it was the last week of the competition and, although we came back from holiday earlier than intended, we still came back too late for me to have my moment of fame! I had to settle for Diggit goodies. Well, when I look at my key ring that has the logo, or I require a rucksack, and I see the logo on that too, I remember, that once, a long time ago, I could have been someone from Yeovil, proving that we are literate, and don't all have the most farmer boy accents ever.
I bet every person from every city thinks the same though. I highly doubt that those from Newcastle are proud to share a city with the Geordie Shore lot. And, although j'adore it, I do not think that those from Chelsea are pleased with the reputation the MIC lot are putting out there (cannot believe that Chloe Green was permitted to put her family name to that, Daddy must be proud).
Right, I am off to watch my recording of Desperate Scousewives. Oh how I love the stereotyping of reality telly!!!
Well, I went for a two hour aerobics class instead, so it isn't a complete fail. In fact, it's probably a bit better than just a jog, where, let's face it, I'd have probably strolled the whole way. I have also told the bride to be that I will join her in any gym classes she may be doing, the one proviso is that I shall not attend body pump. Women were not made to lift weights.
We were talking at work the other day about people on TV who are from Somerset all being the biggest stereotypes ever. They don't have a Yeovil Shore or Made in Martock! The telly programme us Somerset lot feature on is more often than not Jeremy Kyle.
I remember, years and years ago, a story on GMTV about a man living in Yeovil who had severe complaints from his neighbours due to the amount of chickens he kept in his back garden!
No wonder when I went to uni they all took the piss of me for where I'm from. I brought one mate back home for a night out in Yeovil, and on the drive she was made up that she saw sheep in a field, we were stuck behind a tractor and we went over a little stone bridge. Oh how the other half live!
I only resent the stereotype, because I am not one of them! I was born in Yeovil, grew up in Yeovil, and the only time I left Yeovil, was the three years that I was in uni at Southampton, but I soon came back to Yeovil! Yet, despite all that, I do not own anything Adidas, I wash my hair on a regular basis, there is no doubt who my father is and I did not get preggo at 13. All of my friends are like this too, yet the only people I have ever seen from Yeovil on television are like this.
I was almost on telly once. When I was little I entered a competition on the TV show that made Fearne Cotton who she is today, Diggit. I wrote a mystery story. The prize was that you got to go on to the show and read your story, and then you won your height in books. That would have been a lot of books too, as I've always been tall.
We were on holiday at the time, in a caravan somewhere. The weather was pants, mum got fed up, and we left our British holiday early. When we got home there was a ,message on our answer phone from the people at Diggit inviting me to be a prize winner. A couple of weeks previously, Fearne Cotton herself had read my name on TV in reference to my story when they were discussing entrants. I thought that was the best it was going to get. Unfortunately for me, it was the last week of the competition and, although we came back from holiday earlier than intended, we still came back too late for me to have my moment of fame! I had to settle for Diggit goodies. Well, when I look at my key ring that has the logo, or I require a rucksack, and I see the logo on that too, I remember, that once, a long time ago, I could have been someone from Yeovil, proving that we are literate, and don't all have the most farmer boy accents ever.
I bet every person from every city thinks the same though. I highly doubt that those from Newcastle are proud to share a city with the Geordie Shore lot. And, although j'adore it, I do not think that those from Chelsea are pleased with the reputation the MIC lot are putting out there (cannot believe that Chloe Green was permitted to put her family name to that, Daddy must be proud).
Right, I am off to watch my recording of Desperate Scousewives. Oh how I love the stereotyping of reality telly!!!
Thursday 29 December 2011
Out with the old and in with the new....year
A new year is ominously looming in front of me and it is time to decide where I see myself this time next year.
What do I want to accomplish over the next 12 months?
I have two new year's resolutions so far. Number one is to lose a stone.
It is my best friend's wedding at the end of May, so the more I can lose at the start of the year the better. I intend to eat healthily, use my Wii fit as much as possible and, here's the bit that will probably fall at the first hurdle, go for a nice long jog every Saturday morning. I don't think that I'll end up doing that on week one, which is a tragic thing for me to admit.
Second resolution is quite lovely really. It is to do something that makes me happy every day. What this may be and how it will be done, I do not know, but it is my intention to do it all the same.
2011 was a good year for me, in fact I do not think there was one thing I have done that I was not proud of (I did get rather drunk quite a few times, but I do not regret getting drunk).
I moved in with my boyfriend, got a full time job, got a better full time job and bought myself some beautiful shoes throughout the year, despite the boyfriend's disapproval on the height of some of my heels.
It's the same thing every year at this time, people look back and try to remember the good things. In fact, the boyfriend just turned to me and asked me my favourite film of the year (we have special cinema cards so we go a lot), his was Transformers 3, I cannot agree with him as I fell asleep half way through. It is unlike me to fall asleep in the cinema as it is so darn cold, but something about those 3D glasses makes my eyes droop. My favourite film, in case you were wondering, was not Pirates of the Caribbean as I predicted it to be, it was The Fighter.
2011 will be a tough year to beat, but I am going to shoot for Pluto. It will all start Saturday night at my friend's party. As soon as midnight hits, there will be no fatty foods passing my lips, and nothing but vodka and soda water to drink (apparently this is almost calorie free).
I wish you all the best of luck with your resolutions, and my fingers are crossed that I go for that first jog on the 7th January.
What do I want to accomplish over the next 12 months?
I have two new year's resolutions so far. Number one is to lose a stone.
It is my best friend's wedding at the end of May, so the more I can lose at the start of the year the better. I intend to eat healthily, use my Wii fit as much as possible and, here's the bit that will probably fall at the first hurdle, go for a nice long jog every Saturday morning. I don't think that I'll end up doing that on week one, which is a tragic thing for me to admit.
Second resolution is quite lovely really. It is to do something that makes me happy every day. What this may be and how it will be done, I do not know, but it is my intention to do it all the same.
2011 was a good year for me, in fact I do not think there was one thing I have done that I was not proud of (I did get rather drunk quite a few times, but I do not regret getting drunk).
I moved in with my boyfriend, got a full time job, got a better full time job and bought myself some beautiful shoes throughout the year, despite the boyfriend's disapproval on the height of some of my heels.
It's the same thing every year at this time, people look back and try to remember the good things. In fact, the boyfriend just turned to me and asked me my favourite film of the year (we have special cinema cards so we go a lot), his was Transformers 3, I cannot agree with him as I fell asleep half way through. It is unlike me to fall asleep in the cinema as it is so darn cold, but something about those 3D glasses makes my eyes droop. My favourite film, in case you were wondering, was not Pirates of the Caribbean as I predicted it to be, it was The Fighter.
2011 will be a tough year to beat, but I am going to shoot for Pluto. It will all start Saturday night at my friend's party. As soon as midnight hits, there will be no fatty foods passing my lips, and nothing but vodka and soda water to drink (apparently this is almost calorie free).
I wish you all the best of luck with your resolutions, and my fingers are crossed that I go for that first jog on the 7th January.
Saturday 17 September 2011
What Not To Wear
When I wrote my first blog many moons ago, I was going to be stylist to the stars, now? I am a marketing assistant for a multi-million pound company and I have not styled one person! Well, maybe one? I advised my sister not to buy a top the other day? Maybe that counts.
My point is, although I absolutely love my new job, I have strayed from my passion. I need to see my adoration of fashion as separate from my adoration of my snazzy new job.
Every Saturday I get blue (in fact, as I type this I am sporting a rather nautical look in navy and cream, literally blue), the boyfriend goes to work first thing, goes to town to place his bets, goes to football and then goes to THE BARN! I hate THE BARN! Perhaps I hate it more because I live in Somerset and the mere word 'barn' sounds atrocious in the broad farmer accent. There is no longer an A in the word barn when it is spoken by a Somersetian. I have been there maybe 3 times since I have been with the boyfriend and each time I question why I have joined him. It never seemed that bad when I was a sticker upper for my mum's skittles team. Maybe it's because they were paying me to be there?
August to May, I become single again every Saturday. I believe they call it a football widow? I have begun meeting up with friends I cannot see in the week, getting my hair done and, most fun of all, doing housework! Bleugh! Today, I have made the executive decision to get a hobby for my Saturdays. It is not going to be drinking wine as I lovingly told the boyfriend this morning at 12, justifying the fact I was sat watching a movie with a rather large glass of the stuff beside me. My hobby is going to be styling... if I can get the notion off the ground.
I have decided that Gok has it right, and Trinny & Susannah before him, telling people what to wear is brilliant (especially when you saw the horrific women I saw Thursday night outside the supermarket). I have read numerous books by numerous people, and I can verify that there are several key pieces that every women should have in her wardrobe, with the essentials, you can look fabulous no matter what.
I am going to start with myself. Please find below several pictures of me wearing the incorrect clothes for my body shape (trust me, there have been more). Every week, I will demonstrate how one key item of clothing can be worn with various outfits to create entire new looks. You will never be tagged in the same outfit twice.
If you like what I do, you can then tell me your shopping budget, and send me pictures of yourself so I can determine your body shape, and I will send you links to your brand new wardrobe. What do I get in return? You must send me pics of you in your new ensembles to blog about to get others to do the same. If you live close enough, I will even take you shopping!
Good idea? I hope so. I need a project ass Saturdays suck so much that I wish I was in work (it does help that j'adore my job).
As promised...
My point is, although I absolutely love my new job, I have strayed from my passion. I need to see my adoration of fashion as separate from my adoration of my snazzy new job.
Every Saturday I get blue (in fact, as I type this I am sporting a rather nautical look in navy and cream, literally blue), the boyfriend goes to work first thing, goes to town to place his bets, goes to football and then goes to THE BARN! I hate THE BARN! Perhaps I hate it more because I live in Somerset and the mere word 'barn' sounds atrocious in the broad farmer accent. There is no longer an A in the word barn when it is spoken by a Somersetian. I have been there maybe 3 times since I have been with the boyfriend and each time I question why I have joined him. It never seemed that bad when I was a sticker upper for my mum's skittles team. Maybe it's because they were paying me to be there?
August to May, I become single again every Saturday. I believe they call it a football widow? I have begun meeting up with friends I cannot see in the week, getting my hair done and, most fun of all, doing housework! Bleugh! Today, I have made the executive decision to get a hobby for my Saturdays. It is not going to be drinking wine as I lovingly told the boyfriend this morning at 12, justifying the fact I was sat watching a movie with a rather large glass of the stuff beside me. My hobby is going to be styling... if I can get the notion off the ground.
I have decided that Gok has it right, and Trinny & Susannah before him, telling people what to wear is brilliant (especially when you saw the horrific women I saw Thursday night outside the supermarket). I have read numerous books by numerous people, and I can verify that there are several key pieces that every women should have in her wardrobe, with the essentials, you can look fabulous no matter what.
I am going to start with myself. Please find below several pictures of me wearing the incorrect clothes for my body shape (trust me, there have been more). Every week, I will demonstrate how one key item of clothing can be worn with various outfits to create entire new looks. You will never be tagged in the same outfit twice.
If you like what I do, you can then tell me your shopping budget, and send me pictures of yourself so I can determine your body shape, and I will send you links to your brand new wardrobe. What do I get in return? You must send me pics of you in your new ensembles to blog about to get others to do the same. If you live close enough, I will even take you shopping!
Good idea? I hope so. I need a project ass Saturdays suck so much that I wish I was in work (it does help that j'adore my job).
As promised...
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| Strapless and no tights? Too much skin, plus an unflattering shaped dress |
 |
| Just because you're fat, do not wear over sized clothes! |
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| You can still look stylish and be warm in the snow. |
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| If you have broad shoulders, do not wear a one shoulder dress. |
NB Looking through my fashion faux pas, I can now see just how much weight I have lost. My gosh I did not realise how bad I was.
Saturday 23 July 2011
Hilarious or Delirious?
For your information the skirt looked fabulous! I wore it during my first week in the new job and I felt amazing. Fearne Cotton you do me proud!
I cannot believe that today is a Saturday and I am awake at this ungodly hour! Not impressed. Truth be told, I have been up since the boyfriend left for work at half 5. What is wrong with me?
The truth of it is that I have not been feeling well at all for the past couple of days. The boyfriend thinks I have dysentry, I'm just impressed he knew such a big word, especially after he told me he was "ambistuous"! I will tell you now that the word he was looking for was ambidextrous, as he proudly demonstrated he could hammer a nail with either hand. Whatever bug it was that made me violently vomit the teeniest sip of water, it made me sleep forever so, now that I am feeling better, I no longer need sleep.
The benefit from me being so well slept, is that yes, I have had lots of beauty sleep so am radiant as ever in my pink dressing gown, but more importantly, I am on the ball when it comes to wit (well so I think).
For example, I am talking to a friend via the book of face and mention that I am contemplating going on a run to sweat out the bad toxins left in my body, he replies that it is wiser for me to do a walk instead as I don't want to exhaust myself if I have been ill. Now, here comes the moment when I realise that I am a comedy genius.....
"Yeah, you're right, I don't want to run before I can walk!"
Pauses for laughter and much side splitting!
Now that I have a man, the beginning of a career, and somewhere to live, it is time for me to dive head first into the project of making this house a home. It is no longer a hole for boys to live, but shall be fit for a princess, and not just any princess like that Kate Middleton, no, it must be suitable for ME.
Checklist for completion is as follows. Shared bedroom needs lighting, pictures for the walls and maybe a new duvet. Kitchen just needs a new floor. Lounge, as previously mentioned, needs a lick of paint (colour now decided is 'Gooseberry Fool 3', I feel it is apt for the boy who resides there playing Champ Man), a telly unit, a coffe table, lamps, a picture for the wall and a rug. The bathroom? Burn it!
Before I can take my bag for life down to Ikea though, we have the expenditures of annual MOTs for the car and the cats.
Please note that the images your eyes are marvelling today, have been made possible by Ottis. Thanks for the compatible camera cable (now repeat that quickly three times, it's challenging and fun).
Well, I finally feel like I am on the right path to careerdom! So I've taken a slightly different route to my original plan, but if I get the most from this secondment, I am hoping I will have the experience to get me anywhere! I'm thinking if I can launch a trade store successfully within the M25, I can launch a new Topshop state side! Phillip Green I am talking to you!
I cannot believe that today is a Saturday and I am awake at this ungodly hour! Not impressed. Truth be told, I have been up since the boyfriend left for work at half 5. What is wrong with me?
The truth of it is that I have not been feeling well at all for the past couple of days. The boyfriend thinks I have dysentry, I'm just impressed he knew such a big word, especially after he told me he was "ambistuous"! I will tell you now that the word he was looking for was ambidextrous, as he proudly demonstrated he could hammer a nail with either hand. Whatever bug it was that made me violently vomit the teeniest sip of water, it made me sleep forever so, now that I am feeling better, I no longer need sleep.
The benefit from me being so well slept, is that yes, I have had lots of beauty sleep so am radiant as ever in my pink dressing gown, but more importantly, I am on the ball when it comes to wit (well so I think).
For example, I am talking to a friend via the book of face and mention that I am contemplating going on a run to sweat out the bad toxins left in my body, he replies that it is wiser for me to do a walk instead as I don't want to exhaust myself if I have been ill. Now, here comes the moment when I realise that I am a comedy genius.....
"Yeah, you're right, I don't want to run before I can walk!"
Pauses for laughter and much side splitting!
 |
| A teeny glimpse of the only complete room of my home. My dressing room! |
Checklist for completion is as follows. Shared bedroom needs lighting, pictures for the walls and maybe a new duvet. Kitchen just needs a new floor. Lounge, as previously mentioned, needs a lick of paint (colour now decided is 'Gooseberry Fool 3', I feel it is apt for the boy who resides there playing Champ Man), a telly unit, a coffe table, lamps, a picture for the wall and a rug. The bathroom? Burn it!
Before I can take my bag for life down to Ikea though, we have the expenditures of annual MOTs for the car and the cats.
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| One of the 500,000 pictures I took on the date of destruction! *Sobs a lot* |
I don't know if you're aware, but I recently scrapped my first car. My only car. Yes, that car has seen me through many milestones. It was there for my 18th, my 21st, all through uni, when I moved to Henstridge from the house that I grew up in, it drove me to my first date with the boyfriend, and it spent its last months parked outside the house I now live in with that boyfriend. Needless to say, there were tears. From half past one in the afternoon when I cleared my posessions out of her, until five o'clock when I had to put my friend's needs above my loss. I learnt the boyfriend is fond of when I cry as it shows that I am sentimental and girly (apparently), but is harbouring not so secret concerns about the day when someone dies and the tears won't stop and I am inconsolable (new tupperware will not make me crawl from that kind of hysteria).
Speaking of terrible loss, my friend informed me a couple of weeks ago that her family dog passed away. The boyfriend was at work when I received the news, so was not present when I cried over that one. She lovingly felt the need to tell me after seeing the shock I was in when our other friend's dog had passed while I was at uni. Honest to Topshop I was left open mouthed that day.
I returned from uni and visited Mele, one of her dogs was happily yapping around my feet and I asked the question "Where's Pip?" The answer left me stunned and somewhat tearful.
This is the only problem with dogs, they become such a part of the family that they leave such a hole when they go (and not just in the garden) they cannot be replaced. I remember when I first met Jet (the doggy that passed recently), my best friend's dad had this adroable black puppy in his arms as he came to collect Laura from Brownies.
This is what they don't tell you! They say "A dog is for life, not just for Christmas". They fail to say that it is the dog's life and not yours. It is extremely misleading. However, I have now decided that if I am this emotional when pets of my friends go to heaven, I no longer want one. The boyfriend will be delighted that the answer to "What do you want for Christmas/Birthday/Valentines Day/Easter/tea? ?" The answer will no longer be a puppy, that response is truly me saying "I would like 15 years of happiness and then another 15 years of an extreme feeling of loss!"
I have the boyfriend's cats to make me feel loved and they truly do. Nigel follows me around the house constantly and Dave chews my hair whilst I am asleep! That is unconditional love right there!
Please note that the images your eyes are marvelling today, have been made possible by Ottis. Thanks for the compatible camera cable (now repeat that quickly three times, it's challenging and fun).
Enjoy
Friday 8 July 2011
Lost in Transit
Just three more days until I start the new job. Excited? Yes. Nervous? Hell yes. Prepared? As I'm ever gonna be.
The prospect of starting this new job is so exciting to me, yet I am terrified as I need to prove myself in this position as I never have in a job before. Honestly, every job I have had, since my very first one at the tender age of 15 in a cheese/sandwich shop, all I have needed is good customer service. Well, in eight short years of working these various customer related jobs, I think I have mastered it, though, as I have said before, my skill for accessorising, perhaps made me most suited to the role at Wallis, rather than perhaps my role at Tesco (any food produce advice given, would have been highly uninformed). This new job? Daunting!
I have however, already decided on various first day outfits to wear, weather depending. First impressions are everything, and although I am fond of my neon yellow mini skirt, especially since I caught the sun on my legs, I don't think it is appropriate for Head Office.
I am however mourning the loss of a mail ordered skirt. When my mother lovingly ordered me brand new crockery for my beautifully coordinated kitchen, she also ordered me a beautiful maxi skirt (intended for work wear to make my new colleagues see me as a fashion forward professional). The crockery arrived promptly and in tact, the skirt however remains in a black hole somewhere as, when my mother chased its whereabouts, she was told it was delivered with the dinner wear. Dang it, this entire time I have been using my beautiful skirt as a cereal bowl, I think not! When she states that we never received it and wish to be sent another, it is now OUT OF STOCK! Not pleased. Mum referred to the driver as a tea leaf (crazy cockney). When
I saw him I could not imagine him in a pink and grey skirt, but his wife may be a very happy lady. I just hope that it is too small for her and cuts into her muffin tops! Bitter? Me? Of course not.
In other news, last Friday was an occasion to celebrate. I have officially been in a relationship for an entire year! That's right, I have tamed the self-proclaimed 'Lone Wolf' and to celebrate we took a trip to Alton Towers. Romantic right? It was immense! Except for the 4.15 early rise and the effort and care that went into making me photo ready at that time of the morning, it was an enjoyable trip. We did it all, starting at universal fave Nemesis and ending on creepy, nausea encouraging Hex, it was a long day, mostly sunny with brief showers (some not meteorically induced, thanks v. much log flume!).
What does one wear to a Theme Park for the day? This was a difficult one as I was awake before the weather so I had to dress for various instances. I settled for skinny leg chinos, teamed with a black vest top with a loose fitting denim shirt over the top to take off the chill, but easily bundled into a bag if the sun became tan worthy. My first error in getting ready for the day? Flip flops. Being dragged backwards on Air causes intense pressure on your toes as you squeeze them tightly together to keep your ill advised footwear choice on your feet. My second error? Hairspray. I now sport a hairstyle which requires daily upkeep and large amounts of hair products to keep it voluminous and lustrous. That cursed log flume lead to me being soaked and the spray in my hair drying in a rather crunchy manner making me looking like an elderly lady with far too much hair lacquer upon my bonce! Not happy.
Luckily for me, the photographic evidence of this outrageous hair disaster is trapped on the camera. It has become apparent to me that I must not lend things to my boyfriend as they never return complete. Yes his original intentions were lovely, I absolutely adored receiving a picture of the two of us complete in a frame for my birthday back in February, however, in developing the photos from MY camera, the connection lead must have ende up int same black hole as my skirt, as I have not developed a photo since.
After impressing everyone in my new job, my next project is the lounge. The kitchen floor is on stand by and the new carpet for the stairs is in storage. I have big ideas for the lounge, starting with a delightful carpet and a fresh lick of paint to the boring magnolia walls. I know my colour choice for the walls, though am torn between 'Wooden Spoon' and 'Highland Falls 3', I have not yet decided on accents. I am finding that this is proving difficult as the boyfriend will not decide on what kind of wood he would like the new telly unit and coffee table to be. Needless to say, I am not a fan of the current pine TV unit we have. It has a glass panel in the front so all technology can be seen in it's tangled wiry mess, and it is a dated Orange pine that is highly varnished. I will forgive his dated tastes though as he is five entire years older than me and does not have my natural panache for the interior design.
What I need is to receive my first slightly increased pay check so that I can say "My money, my design". He is still warming to the kitchen which has been transformed from yellow to tasteful shades of teal and lime green to match his already present tiles. I am nothing if accommodating, the whole principle of my lounge is based around the tones of his sofas (which are the second best thing that already existed at his house, first best thing is obviously the boyfriend).
On that slightly sickeningly smitten note, I will bid adieu and continue perusing the Internet for beautifully cheap lounge furniture.
*before hitting the 'Publish Post' button, I was interrupted by the boyfriends mate collecting a decorating pole, which had remained unnoticed for the last three hours since I arrived home. As I answered the door to him he commented "You've got a parcel or something lodged in the hedge there," I look on in astonishment. The elusive skirt had indeed been lodged in the hedge at the side of our footpath for almost two weeks. Once again, I am unobservant. Now to go and try it on.
The prospect of starting this new job is so exciting to me, yet I am terrified as I need to prove myself in this position as I never have in a job before. Honestly, every job I have had, since my very first one at the tender age of 15 in a cheese/sandwich shop, all I have needed is good customer service. Well, in eight short years of working these various customer related jobs, I think I have mastered it, though, as I have said before, my skill for accessorising, perhaps made me most suited to the role at Wallis, rather than perhaps my role at Tesco (any food produce advice given, would have been highly uninformed). This new job? Daunting!
I have however, already decided on various first day outfits to wear, weather depending. First impressions are everything, and although I am fond of my neon yellow mini skirt, especially since I caught the sun on my legs, I don't think it is appropriate for Head Office.
I am however mourning the loss of a mail ordered skirt. When my mother lovingly ordered me brand new crockery for my beautifully coordinated kitchen, she also ordered me a beautiful maxi skirt (intended for work wear to make my new colleagues see me as a fashion forward professional). The crockery arrived promptly and in tact, the skirt however remains in a black hole somewhere as, when my mother chased its whereabouts, she was told it was delivered with the dinner wear. Dang it, this entire time I have been using my beautiful skirt as a cereal bowl, I think not! When she states that we never received it and wish to be sent another, it is now OUT OF STOCK! Not pleased. Mum referred to the driver as a tea leaf (crazy cockney). When
I saw him I could not imagine him in a pink and grey skirt, but his wife may be a very happy lady. I just hope that it is too small for her and cuts into her muffin tops! Bitter? Me? Of course not.
In other news, last Friday was an occasion to celebrate. I have officially been in a relationship for an entire year! That's right, I have tamed the self-proclaimed 'Lone Wolf' and to celebrate we took a trip to Alton Towers. Romantic right? It was immense! Except for the 4.15 early rise and the effort and care that went into making me photo ready at that time of the morning, it was an enjoyable trip. We did it all, starting at universal fave Nemesis and ending on creepy, nausea encouraging Hex, it was a long day, mostly sunny with brief showers (some not meteorically induced, thanks v. much log flume!).
What does one wear to a Theme Park for the day? This was a difficult one as I was awake before the weather so I had to dress for various instances. I settled for skinny leg chinos, teamed with a black vest top with a loose fitting denim shirt over the top to take off the chill, but easily bundled into a bag if the sun became tan worthy. My first error in getting ready for the day? Flip flops. Being dragged backwards on Air causes intense pressure on your toes as you squeeze them tightly together to keep your ill advised footwear choice on your feet. My second error? Hairspray. I now sport a hairstyle which requires daily upkeep and large amounts of hair products to keep it voluminous and lustrous. That cursed log flume lead to me being soaked and the spray in my hair drying in a rather crunchy manner making me looking like an elderly lady with far too much hair lacquer upon my bonce! Not happy.
Luckily for me, the photographic evidence of this outrageous hair disaster is trapped on the camera. It has become apparent to me that I must not lend things to my boyfriend as they never return complete. Yes his original intentions were lovely, I absolutely adored receiving a picture of the two of us complete in a frame for my birthday back in February, however, in developing the photos from MY camera, the connection lead must have ende up int same black hole as my skirt, as I have not developed a photo since.
After impressing everyone in my new job, my next project is the lounge. The kitchen floor is on stand by and the new carpet for the stairs is in storage. I have big ideas for the lounge, starting with a delightful carpet and a fresh lick of paint to the boring magnolia walls. I know my colour choice for the walls, though am torn between 'Wooden Spoon' and 'Highland Falls 3', I have not yet decided on accents. I am finding that this is proving difficult as the boyfriend will not decide on what kind of wood he would like the new telly unit and coffee table to be. Needless to say, I am not a fan of the current pine TV unit we have. It has a glass panel in the front so all technology can be seen in it's tangled wiry mess, and it is a dated Orange pine that is highly varnished. I will forgive his dated tastes though as he is five entire years older than me and does not have my natural panache for the interior design.
What I need is to receive my first slightly increased pay check so that I can say "My money, my design". He is still warming to the kitchen which has been transformed from yellow to tasteful shades of teal and lime green to match his already present tiles. I am nothing if accommodating, the whole principle of my lounge is based around the tones of his sofas (which are the second best thing that already existed at his house, first best thing is obviously the boyfriend).
On that slightly sickeningly smitten note, I will bid adieu and continue perusing the Internet for beautifully cheap lounge furniture.
*before hitting the 'Publish Post' button, I was interrupted by the boyfriends mate collecting a decorating pole, which had remained unnoticed for the last three hours since I arrived home. As I answered the door to him he commented "You've got a parcel or something lodged in the hedge there," I look on in astonishment. The elusive skirt had indeed been lodged in the hedge at the side of our footpath for almost two weeks. Once again, I am unobservant. Now to go and try it on.
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