Did the earth move for you too?

So, who else was disturbed by the earthquake last night? According to the beeb this was the biggest earthquake in the UK for nearly 25 years and was felt across quite a bit of England.

I certainly felt it – although at the time I was convinced that darling boyf was actually trying to scare me by shaking the bed! I can remember waking up ‘coz the bed was shaking, and for some reason I was convinced that this was down to boyf playing a mean trick on me. Half asleep and quite shaken (no pun intended) I proceeded to wake boyf up by shouting at him to stop trying to scare me by shaking stuff around.

The fact that he was asleep while I was yelling at him to stop didn’t seem to register! By the time he’d actually woken up and tried to understand what I was going on about, the tremors had stopped so I just got told that I’d probably had a bad dream and to just go back to sleep. Ha! bad dream my arse – I do love being right!

It took me ages to get back off to sleep and so I’m running very behind this morning (I mean even more than normal which is saying something!) … Least I’ve got a valid excuse for once though ”sorry I’m late boss, it was ‘coz of the earthquake”

Honey, I shrunk myself!

Yay, its working… only 6 and a half weeks into my ‘new year’ healthy-eating kick and I’m turning invisible!!! Or maybe not actually turning invisible, maybe shrinking would be a better description, but whatever you call it – I’m lovin’ it

I came into work this morning and one of the first things that a friend (who I incidentally haven’t seen for a while) said to me was “OMG – you’re disappearing”. Now although she’s was probably just being kind, ‘coz there is no way simple healthy eating (I’m allergic to any excercise apart from yoga) can make a girl vanish, there is now a ‘properly visable’ difference in the way I look.

I’ve already mentioned my disappearing arse but now the rest of me seems to have decided to follow… slowly but surely I seem to be vanishing and I really feel great Admittedly though, darling boyf seems a little quiet on the subject, I think he’s just hoping that the boobs don’t decide to follow the butt

In addition to that wonderful start to this morning, which I have to ‘vainly’ admit has kept me in a fab mood all day. Another girly pal said pretty much the same thing and has started refering to me as a ’skinny-minny’. Now, there’s no way on this earth I’ll ever be ’all skin and bones’ and I don’t suppose I’d really want to be either, but that fact that people are commenting on how good you look doesn’t half make you feel ace!

It also goes to show that you can ‘cheat a bit’ on diets (my version of weightwatchers doesn’t count wine as something to be avoided – more as an essential to a girl’s sanity and well-being!) and they’ll still work. And it also proves that just by watching what you eat, not only will you look better on the outside, but you’ll feel a million times better on the inside as your self-esteem rockets!

Proud mama

I learned how to post pictures onto blogs today… Not on my own one of course, I happen to like the simplicity of my site  (actually it’s more to do with the fact that image research is part of my job and I spend enough time doing it at work so I really can’t be bothered doing it for my blog too) … but I managed to load a picture of my beautiful little hobbits – pippin and merry – onto one of my favourite sites (icanhascheezburger) this afternoon and, being such a technophobe, I’m quite proud of myself.

If you want to have a look just click here - pip is the one with his head in the glass by the way… who said he takes after his mama

Romantically rubbish

Its official, darling boyf is rubbish at romance…

This is not something I have just discovered, having been together 8 and a half years means that I’m pretty sure that in the ‘romantic gestures department’ he’s severely lacking! I reckon I’d have more chance of being swept off my feet by daniel craig (swoon swoon), than by my beloved, but does that mean that I should just give up hope that one day he’ll surprise me… actually probably yes!

It started off pretty dire come to think of it - for our first ‘v-day’ together I got a card showing homer simpson eating a doughnut But in truth, year 2 was pretty good - romantic meal, nice card, the works - the next couple were good too, flowers delivered to work, posh meals out, but since we bought a house together that slight spark of romance that used to splutter to life once a year has been well and truly doused!

Now he prefers ‘romantic meals in’, meaning I cook! And he happily informs me that he’d rather buy flowers for me another time which will ‘mean more’ as it wont be just because its valentines day… absolutley darling, but that means you do actually have to buy them for me some time!

I know that I’ve got a card this year at least - I less-than-subtly reminded him (about 20 times!) a couple of days ago – but I am no longer under any illusion that he’ll be waiting for me when I get home with a dozen red roses and all ’suited-and-booted’ ready to whisk me off for a romantic meal.

Ah well, who says a girl needs romance anyway… after 8 years together I guess that love itself is enough

King of the road?

Just a question, mr cyclist who decided to ‘cut me up’ on a very busy roundabout this morning on the way to work, do you have a death wish that involves you being splattered over some car on a beautiful spring morning??? If not then take my advice and learn to ride a bike safely – or better yet, get off the bloody roads!

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against cyclists in general - in fact darling boyf cycles to work every day – but when a cyclist has less road-sense than a 3-year-old hooning round the garden on a trike then I have to admit that it really pees me off!

Take this morning for example, I overtook ‘idiot cyclist’ (in the proper manner, signalling and giving him plenty of room… (have to take into account the inevitable ‘wobble factor’ here… that’s a point, why is it that cyclists can be riding along all nice and steady but as soon as a car – any car, not just me – overtakes them they wobble like mad… in a 30-mile-an-hour zone it can’t just be the force of the wind rushing past!) Anyway, in a bit the traffic slowed and ‘evel knievel’ reappeared, weaving in and out of the traffic like a lunatic… he got level with me just as I was approaching a roundabout and then, without warning he decided it was a good idea to shoot out in front of me and cross over into the middle of the road just as I was pulling onto the roundabout… IMBECILE… If I hadn’t braked then he would have been rolling across my bonet and, much as I have to admit the idea of not stopping appealed (just to teach him a lesson you understand), I decided that my beautiful car would look better without the addition of ‘king of the roads’ blood splattered all over it!

As I said – I have no problem at all with people cycling but when you live in a town that has ‘red-ways’ (designated cycle paths) running parrallel to pretty much all of the main roads it beggars belief as to why these idiots a) don’t use the cycle paths and b) – if they really are ‘too cool’ to use them, don’t at least learn a bit of road-sense! Hmmmm… there’s a thought, if all the cyclist are on the roads maybe I should take to driving my car down the deserted ‘red-ways’ – it would probably be much quicker and at least I wouldn’t have to avoid the pillocks on bikes!

So anyway, mr cyclist, back to my original question… if you don’t have such a death wish, really really do take a little bit more care when cycling on the roads, the size of your balls will not equate to the fragileness of your skin should you take such silly risks again… maybe the next driver won’t be able to stop quite so quickly!

A leap too far!

Its valentines day in three days time and already I’m getting the “So, do you think he’ll pop the question this year?” tedium that generally accompanies february 14th for all us loved-up but, in the eyes of the law at least, still single girlies. ‘Erm no… I’m pretty darn sure he wont actually’ and in fact, if he did, I probably wouldn’t be able to answer him as I’d be unconscious on the floor in a shock-induced coma

But this year its even worse than normal. Usually after a resounding ‘no’, enquirers just mumble something about maybe being surprised (I doubt it very much) and change the subject. This year however, just because there’s an extra day in the month, they all come up with the same piece of inventive advice… “Well it is leap year, why don’t you ask him?” Ermmmm, lets think about that for a mo shall we… how can I put this clearly… no, absolutely not, never, nicht, nein, not on your life!!!

Its not that I wouldn’t love him to ask, of course I would – even if my first name put together with his surname does make me sound like a porn star! - I’d absolutely love to get engaged, but – and this is a BIG but, I’d love him to ask, there is no way on this earth that I would, or could, ask him – that’s just a leap too far! Its not that I’ve got anything against women that do have the courage to do it (I’d love to be able to be so bold actually) but I simply couldn’t. I guess in that way I’m quite an old-fashioned gal, I want him down on one knee – not me!

So please, if you know me, don’t suggest that this year I ask him to marry me… its not gonna happen so you may as well just save your breath… unless of course you fancy using that breath to tell darling boyf that he should propose to me… that I could handle

Allow me to introduce myself…

Whilst pondering what to write my blog on I got an email from ‘rhubarb ruby‘, its one of those ‘find out more about your friends’ things where you answer random questions about yourself so people get to know you better, so I figured, in the interests of sharing, I’d recount it all here..

 If I wasn’t typing this blog right now I’d be… cuddled up at home in front of the fire (which incidently I’m not allowed to use ‘coz it makes the gas bill rocket!) watching cheesy rom-coms with pippin and merry

A common misconception of me is… that I give a damn what ‘wanna-be funny guy’ thinks of me

I wish that people would take more notice of… the fact that my arse has disappeared

A phrase I use far too often is… ’sorry’ (I’m probably not you know!)

The most surprising thing that happened to me was… getting darling boyf

When I vote, I vote for… it depends – they’re all as bad as each other!

I’m good at… gossiping and (hopefully) being a friend

I’m bad at… not gossiping!

The ideal night out is… chilled white wine, good friends, picky bits to eat and good gossip

In moments of weakness I… succumb to the evil that is chocolate or cheese

You know me as a designer but in another life I’d have been… either a forensic pathologist or tiger rescue worker (is there such a thing?)

The best age to be is… I’m pretty happy as I am now – how’s that for avoidance!

I really don’t care about… ‘wanna-be funny guy’

My heart beats faster at the sight of… new shoes (oopps – and darling boyf of course)

I really regret… saying things out loud that would be better kept in my head

I am totally inspried by… my mum - she’s spent the last 30 years in chronic pain and yet still laughs at the silliest things

So far this year I got upset when… ‘wanna-be funny guy’ made a hurtful comment

In a nutshell, my philosophy is this… always keep smiling - it makes people wonder what you’re up to

Oh my god, where’s my arse gone?

OK, that’s not a joke question just to get people’s attention, its a serious query. It was definitely there last night, I saw it briefly as I walked past the bedroom mirror but today its vanished… gone… but where?

It’s really odd… I’ve been on my annual ’january healthy eating’ kick and have felt so much better for it that I’ve carried it on into february, therefore I guess I must be losing weight but how can an arse just be there one day and be gone the next? (Especially when you consider that most of the arses that I know never go away that quietly!)

I noticed the dramatic departure ‘coz I put on my favourite black jeans this morning and they look, and feel, decidedly baggy – especially around my bum – but they fitted just fine two days ago when I last wore them…

I know this is supposed to a good thing as getting in trim was the reason I decided to do the healthy eating thingy anyway but I didn’t really want my bum to go anywhere – it was probably one of the few bits of me that I quite liked and now its gone! I’d actually like the top bits of my arms to go, or a little bit to disappear from my thighs and waist, but my bum, along with my boobs – they should stay where they are!

So, if anyone sees my vanished arse… tell it my favourite jeans and I miss it and please come back. I’ll happily swap it for my tummy

Snow now please…

Please mr weatherman, I want it to snow…

Bit of a weird request really seeing as last week, when the cold white stuff was forecast, I was sitting there keeping my fingers crossed that it didn’t! But no, I’m not just being awkward (although usually I am), the reason I want it to snow now is that my black emu boots have just arrived in the post and I want to go out and play in them.

I do have a valid reason for buying the boots – even though this winter has so far been mild in the extreme. Darling boyf and I are off to prague in march and I needed some comfy footware that would keep my tootsies warm. These will certainly do the trick but I really don’t want to wait until prague to wear them… there’s no fun in buying new stuff unless you can wear it straightaway, so come on mr weatherman, send us some snow now please…

The perils of old age

A very wise person once said “A hangover is when you open your eyes in the moring and wish you hadn’t” and boy-o-boy, that was me on saturday morning.

Friday night was absolutley great – the girls and I had a fab night, lots of laugher, gossip and good grub… but also lots, and lots of alchohol… Our hostess has calcluated that the amount of empty wine bottles littering her kitchen meant that we definately had a ‘booze-filled’ night and my protestations that I’d only had about three glasses of wine and only one glass of bubbly are apparently absolute rubbish… admittedly I only filled my glass up three times but apparently we were all filling up everyone’s glasses when we felt the need - five of us drinking… you do the maths!

This would explain the state I was in towards the end of friday then… When our designated driver (bless her) dropped me home she was convinced – as was the other giggling and very tipsy passenger - that my ‘ickle pip’ had just dashed up the road. I immediately ran after him, loudly telling him that it was nearly midnight and waaaay past his bedtime – Note to self… avoid the neighbours for a while! Three times I almost caught him but three times he ran away… so I was very cold and very concerned when 10 minutes later I stumbled into the living room, all set to tell darling boyf off for not making sure that cats were in when there I noticed pip, sitting happily on the sofa. Hmmmmm… doppelganger cat strikes again!

I also remember being very concerned about how and when I had cut my finger and bruised my hands (still no ideas on that one) and I then proceeded to think it was a very good idea to show darling boyf the valentine pressies I had bought him earlier that day (no surprises for him now unless it involves me spending more money!) I then stumbled off to bed happily humming songs from the Sound of Music – very bad karaoke with Kath on the piano earlier in the night – whilst loudly telling darling boyf that I had hardly had anything to drink

Needless to say, saturday morning found me feeling rather sorry for myself. I don’t tend to get sick after drinking but I do get killer headaches which tend not to deplete till bedtime, I also have a tendency to feel very sorry for myself and expect darling boyf to be very sympathietic to my plight!

I’m sure I used to be able to drink much more than I can these days, and I certainly didn’t used to get hangovers… or maybe I just slept through them! Is this how old age creeps up on you? Unable to drink as much at 32 as you could at 28… oh well, looking on the bright side – at least the bar bills will be cheaper