Rain, rain, go away, come again another day. Oh, but I keep forgetting – it’s good that it’s raining because the hose-pipe ban might be lifted. Errrr, do I care about the hose-pipe ban? Errrr, no. Not a drop (ha!). I don’t even have a hose-pipe. So rain, please, do one; and on your way, tell the sun to get his bloomin’ hat on. (Alternatively, take me back to those Somerset days, where I was having to use an umbrella for shade).
Sunday cleaning, sunday coffee, sunday ebay sessioning (selling, not buying – at last!). And the Sunday sound? Sarah Vaughan. I WIN.
Have you seen the American Apparel high-waisted jeans? Sorry, should I say the four-way stretch high-waisted side-zipper pant lite, ha! Well, I’ve seen them and tried them and I love them. They fit like the glove of your dreams. They will be more than perfect for winter. Too comfy. Make your tummy look super flat. The sort of stretch that you know won’t go baggy. However (there’s always a however with American Apparel, isn’t there?), they only do one leg length. You know, the one-size-fits-everyone-but-me leg length. About 10-inches-too-long leg length. Gutting! All leg growth alternative remedy suggestions welcome.
Coffee time! And a ham sandwich for brunch due to my lack of butter and thereby the inability to make the toast of my dreams (well, it’s not strictly a sandwich, rather some ham in pitta – have I ever mentioned my phobia of the humble sandwich?). But that’s enough about pitta. I’ve got to work later, boo. Though I don’t mind really since the sun has decided to completely disappear and the Manchester rain is back with a smile on its face. Have lovely Saturdays! Hope the sun shows his face where you are.
You know when a dress literally has your name on it? Like, if you were shopping with friends (not that I ever do this, it’s against my laws) they would say Oh, it’s so you! Well, since my eyes have made a bit of a recovery (they’ve been rather inhuman of late) I stumped up the courage to wander up to my favourite vintage shop (you all remember Retro Rehab, don’t you?). I knew they’d have new stock in and I’ve not been in for ages and I don’t like to miss out.
New stock they did indeed have, my dress being amongst it. Love at first sight. It’s hanging on the outside of the wardrobe (where all things must hang until I’m over my crush – only then can they move into the darkness of the other side) and I’m rather chuffed that it’s mine. Perhaps you’ll be wonder what all the fuss is about, but trust me, it couldn’t be more me if it tried.
Anyone else wish they were in polka-dots with the sand beneath their feet? At the moment I’m drinking coffee, trying to speak in French and pondering a massive overhaul of my record collection. All lovely, but I do rather wish I was in polka-dots, sand beneath my feet, not a care in the world…
The world cup final. Without England. Should be used to it by now, shouldn’t I? However, I’m allowed to wish things were different. Of course I’m still going to watch. I’m allowed to be bitter though, aren’t I? To soften the blow we have bought the ingredients to make mojitos. Yum. I will take a sip of my mojito every time there is a corner. And every time there’s a free kick or a goal kick or a throw in. And a foul. And a dive. And a whistle blown. Oh, and any goals! Or any hitting of the post or bar or any misses of a more spectacular variety. And if there’s a penalty, who knows what I’ll do. Basically, I’ll be drinking my mojito throughout. It’s the only hope I’ve got.
Guess what, I’ve become all technical: you can now follow my blog with bloglovin, if you feel so inclined… So yeah, follow me? Blah blah blah.
