Weekend? Who knew. I’m working the whole thing while the boy plays with new computer parts. Rolling my eyes. I’m also still trying to action my new years resolutions. Yes, I’m aware it’s already mid-January, but what can I say, I’m something of a slow-starter. Must go, the gym is a’waiting. (And I’m rolling my eyes). I’ll be skinny and rich before you know it.
So here you have it, as promised, my 2011 in phone photos. Having got these together, I don’t think I’ve done as good a job at recording the year as I normally would. I blame changing phones, changing apps and being generally indecisive. So, another resolution – take more phone photos.
January. Apparently I wasn’t on phone-photo-form this month. I could only find two. An appalling self-portrait and a dinner I was clearly proud of. It is only the interests of consistency that I am including these.
February. In fact, it seems I didn’t start the month off very eventfully at all. Apart from an important 50th birthday party, February was also sparse.
March. I remember being surprised that it was March already. My boy did some drawings (isn’t he good?). I did some writing (hmmmm). Boom.
April. Wedding celebrations, anniversary celebrations, blossom.
May. Silk shirts, spring salads (always delicious and always made by the boy, of course), pints of beer and football.
June. Festival-chic and shoulder-pad-chic.
July. I see a fascination with shirts emerging. More silk here. Along with weddings and general out-and-about-ery.
August. Birthday! Otherwise known as FOOD and BOOZE.
September. A dash of Indian summer, a dash of interior design, a dash of sadness, and a dash of general arty-ness.
October. Friends and music and changing hair.
November. Work experience. Jack Daniels experience. Another clock photo. Apparently I take a picture of the clock whenever I’m concerned that time is running away from me.
December. Suddenly seems I’ve got the hang of my new phone and its huge amount of mega-pixie-blah. Food, booze, presents, trees, lomography, hangover-food, milkshakes, home.
I haven’t had a day off in 18 days. And even that day, 19 days ago, didn’t really count as a day off, because I wasn’t feeling well for one reason or another. Nothing to do with Jack Daniels. And I’ve got two more juicy days of work ahead of me. But it’s not all that bad because I saw my name in print for the first time today. Nice. But like I say, I’ve got a manic couple of days ahead, so I probably won’t be around here much. Follow me on twitter, though. No doubt I’ll have some right-wing not-right to moan about on there. Anyway, I’m off to bed to finish my book. More on that when I’m done – I just thought I’d better check in and ask you all to stick around. I’ll be right back!
Coffee. Toast. Sunshine. Washing. News. Frozen Planet. Work. Applications. Piano. The boy. Lasagne. Book. Bed. My day is going to go something like that. Have good ones! I’m doing an excellent job lately of posting completely irrelevant pictures, so why change that now? The divine Patti.
So, I’ve got the afternoon off. I planned to come home and send out a few emails, you know, catch up on my admin. But no. Hotmail is not working. For, I think, the first time ever? So now I feel stranded. I’ve just had a banana and a diet coke. And that’s about all I have to report. Oh, apart from the fact that when I wore my new jeans for the first time the other day, they ended up with beer all over them (booze Britain) so I washed them immediately. Stepped out in them for the second time today and have come home with mud splashed up the back of my leg. It’s not even raining? Only me. Harumph. And now, because I’m so annoyed about all of the above and more, here’s an aesthetically pleasing picture.
I left the house for the first time in four days earlier. I was excited to begin with but quickly realised I’m still not one hundred per cent and that the general public are generally vile. Like the man picking and sucking his tooth behind me in a queue (apparently he didn’t notice the fact that I kept turning round to glare at him). Honestly though, are people for real? After getting the few bits I needed, I hurried straight home to snuggle back up. I may or may not have watched another episode of The Model Agency which I discovered on 4od last night. I wish I hadn’t found it. I wish there weren’t seven episodes waiting for me. I’m going to have to ration myself. It is so addictive. There’s one girl featured in the documentary who reminded me instantly of Penelope Tree. Which can only be a good thing.
