What an absolute scorcher! And there I was, worrying about finding a winter coat. (I’m still worrying about that, but it’s not such a priority, clearly). I’m more concerned right now about my lack of appropriate footwear for such temperatures. I might just stay where I am, sat by the back door, with the delicious smell of sunshine wafting in. If only I had a bit of sand on the balcony, I’d be out there! Or maybe I’ll actually venture out onto the street. We shall see.
I got in from work late last night, in bafflingly warm temperatures, to find my Frankie Diary had arrived. How lovely. I’m so pleased with it. Wouldn’t it be lovely if I actually had a proper job by 2012 and thereby a purpose for actually having it? Here’s hoping.
So, here you have it, my fads of the week: round two. Who’d’ve thought I’d actually keep something like this up? I must admit, it’s helpful that I’m off today. Plenty of time and no excuses. Enjoy!
Communication.
It has become increasingly apparent to me, that when you live with someone communication of the most banal kind becomes an absolute necessity. It is an actual craft that needs honing, if you will. So, when you find yourself saying something as banal as: This cloth has been used for glass-cleaning, I am placing it back in the drawer; please don’t throw it away, because in the event that you should ever need to clean glass, this cloth is more than up to the job; don’t worry that you personify banality, but simply remind yourself you are perfecting the valuable art of domestic communication. And then live happily ever after.
Navy.
I want everything (clothes-wise) in navy at the moment. It’s just so much friendlier than black. Navy says cool/stylish/effortless, whereas black seems to say i’m-hard-and-lack-depth-and-imagination. I’m well and truly, in the navy.
Fruit.
Yeah, I might be a bit behind with this one. I think I’ve probably mentioned before, I sometimes panic that I don’t eat enough of the stuff. I mean, properly wakes-me-up-in-night panic. I think the biggest part of the problem is that we live in the city-centre and don’t have a car. Stocking up on fruit is therefore something of a burden. So we’ve looked at those fancy online thingys where you can have seasonal fruitboxes delivered to your door. But, being the fusspot I am, we decided it might be a bit risky. So, we’ve vowed to order fruit every week in just a normal online shop. Yeah, we have to do it manually, but at least then I won’t get any apple other than a golden delish. After all, that’s a risk I was not prepared to take.
Potatoes.
No but seriously, I couldn’t live without them. It’s so easy for me to say they are my favourite food ever. Roast potatoes [or roasties, as the boy would say], jacket potatoes [baked spud], boiled potatoes [boilies], mashed potatoes [just mash], potato wedges [yep, wedges] sweet potatoes [hmmm], potato salad, bombay potatoes, potatoes in soup, potatoes in curry, and, of course, CHIPS (chunky, thin, crispy, soggy, salty, on a plate, in a cone, on the beach when sober, on the street when drunk). I’ve probably forgotten something. But I’d like to this opportunity to say: I love you, spuds, you are my nearest and dearest.
Ernie K-Doe.
There are no words for how much I love his voice. It’s my favourite sound this week (and maybe even ever). Completely addicted. Rather than take my word for it, have a listen for yourself. It took me ages to choose which song to put on here, but I reckon this one just about covers every reason why this voice is just so uhhhh.
When I walked into Topshop the other day, I did immediately regret having my hairstyle changed recently. You’ll remember how I deliberated over it massively (I might’ve even mentioned it once or twice). But in the end I did it. Got rid of the beautiful bowl and had a fringe properly cut in. Partly because it’s much easier for me to maintain myself (my hairdresser lives down south, don’tcha know) and partly because I think I might actually want to get to a stage where I can tie it up for once. But anyway, when I saw these mannequins, I felt instant, gnawing regret. Apparently, I was just way ahead of the game. P.S. Excuse the terrible picture – I always feel naughty/stealthy/rushed when taking photos in shops, as if they’ll think I’m trying to steal their ideas (when in fact they’ve rudely stolen mine).
Not entirely sure what’s happened to me this week, besides not going to the gym, getting more job rejections, wishing it would get colder more quickly, worrying about Troy Davis and listening to Ernie K-Doe on repeat. Other than that I’ve bought a lovely new jumper! Hence wishing the temperature would take a tumble. But more on that [beautiful navy fisherman’s knit] another day.
Anyone who knows me will be familiar with the fact that I’m something of a faddy and whimsical girl with a propensity for short-term infatuations. What I love this week, may well be forgotten about the next. With this in mind, I’ve decided to do a weekly feature on exactly that. Five things that are going up in my world right now. You’ll soon see that my infatuations can be very wide-ranging and peculiar. So, here you have it: my fads of this week.
Interior Design.
At the moment, I have a particularly soft-spot for vintage pouffes. I also love to collect anything made from amber glass. The silly thing is, we RENT. I wish I could store my landlord’s furniture on the roof, to make room for my recent [more tasteful] acquirements, but instead we are forced to CRAM. But seriously, I spend an inordinate amount of time collating images (day-dreaming/wanting/fad-ing) of interior design spaces that I love, for future reference. Only, I wish I could act upon it now. I’m sure the boy doesn’t feel as broody for furniture as I do, but this can only be a good thing, as it means I will be sure to get my own learned way, when the time does eventually come. Ha!
French.
Yep. You got it. One day I WILL speak French. One day I will be chic and live in Paris and like dogs and jam and buy fresh bread daily. One day, I WILL be a lady. Je pense que ouais.
Irma Thomas.
Counting every drop, about to blow my top, I wish this rain would hurry up and stop; I’ve got the blues so bad, I can hardly catch my breath – the harder it rains, the worse it gets. One day, magically, I’ll be able to sing like Irma. No but seriously, her voice makes me ache and long for all the things I can’t do and all the things I can’t have. Girl got it good.
Tax Rebates.
Sometimes, they come when you least expect them. Like, you know, for the first time EVER and three years late. If I’m honest, the first thing that sprung to mind? Well actually, it was two things. In quick succession. Berlin. Followed swiftly and seamlessy by: Russell and Bromley. (Is that three?). No but seriously, who could go to Berlin without a new pair? Haaaa. This fad will end soon, I promise. It MUST end soon so I can resume normal, basic-shoed, life. (Please, let me forget you ever existed).
Steak.
I’m sure I read somewhere once that it’s entirely possible to crave the good old red stuff. I can’t remember the last time I indulged on a fancy plate of steak and chips. I must rectify this soon. It’s not the sort of thing I would cook myself (I will never succumb to the chip-pan and/or oven-chip). So steakhouse date is to be soon. In a bit, Sirloin lad.
At one point, this blog became little more than an exasperated weather report. You’ll no doubt have noticed that I’ve since made a conscious effort to step away from the weather. But today I’m sure you will forgive me when I say these two small things (small in form, maybe, but ominous in their meaning): FOG and COLD. For the purposes of this blog, I will leave it at that. But if you’d like to know more (as I’m sure you do) I have, of course, not actually left it at that. Have a look on my twitter page for the complete story. Ok. So, that will be that. Dare I mention the winter coat search? Let battle commence.
Today went something like this: work this morning, cinema this afternoon (I finally saw One Day – the boy put his foot down and refused to participate but I couldn’t wait any longer so I went on my own and consequently couldn’t cry with anywhere near as much abandon as was necessary), came home to carbonara for dinner (the boy’s way of making up for the fact that he refused the film – it’ll do!) and now I’m watching a little football and may or may not have coincided that with the ordering of the Frankie Diary 2012 (I missed out spectacularly last year – it was completely sold out by the time I even heard of it). So, that’s that. Oh and by the way, the book is way better than the film, but you should still go and see it, if only for the Jim Sturgess aspect.
Another by-product of my novel-mania is that I end up with a stack of catch-up reading to do (I need to calm down with the compounds, I know). I simply must make a start on this stack before my next book delivery arrives (I have learnt that I’m sucker for an amazon book delivery – swoon!).
