tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55058025042442244672024-02-19T20:21:54.707+00:00lipstick & leopardprintUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-47695359914991193602011-04-08T19:06:00.001+01:002011-04-08T19:06:48.743+01:00I am a strong, independant womanz that can now eat MUSHROOMS...<div style="text-align: justify;">...were the immortal words i uttered (yelled) as i walked into my friends house after breaking up with my ex (he didn't like mushroom, couldn't put them in anything). ignoring the fact that after that mantra i spiralled in to 5 months of virtual alcoholism and insanity, but while being a near alcoholic and slightly in need of a padded cell, i was independent. and loved it! so... what happened?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">i have realised i have what is called "dependency issues'. yes. a afflicition usually reserved for those of the male origin, however, in this context, i mean it in the complete opposite way. I have realised that when i am with someone, (a boyfriend) that i start off aloof, maybe even standoffish. "i don't want to loose my independance" i cry to my female friends, I enjoy being my own person!! and the a few months down the line. BOOM. Uh-Oh. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Its not enforced by anyone but me (this time). In contrast to my ex, my current beau is the bees knees, the cats pyjamas, if you will. I love him dearly with all my heart. he's never made me feel like i have to answer to him, never ever made me feel like i can't go out with my friends or do things on my own, so why have i somehow managed to bind myself to him, limpit style?? It's irritatingly pathetic. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Boyfriend is away this weekend for a friends wedding. Invitations were sent out before we were together, I have no idea who this person is, obviously, i'm not going. That's fine. (apart from when people ask me where he is this weekend, the response to the answer is met by a confused look, and "oh, why aren't you going?" - but i'll leave that slight humilation alone for now). and so, (before you judge me too harshly, i will stress, that i don't get to have much proper one on one time with BF); instead of embracing a weekend where i don't feel the need to shave my legs, can actually paint that chest of drawers that i've been meaning to do for months, or enjoy some quality time with friends or just in my house which i haven't seen much of of late, i wimper, "I miiiiiiiiiiiiiiss him." I mean, i'm not the best feminist at the best of times, equal rights, sure, but i'd trade you my career for 2 kids and baking anyday, but that's not the point. When did it all go a bit 17th Century?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I feel abandoned (i know i'm not), I feel lonely (my best friends will be round in approximately 20 minutes), I feel like a complete moron!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This, has been quite cathartic. Thank you. In the time it has taken me to read through this I have drawn one conclusion. Women, it's true what they say, we're mental. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">i am going to go and enjoy my boy free weekend, embrace my hairy legs, but more ugly than hairy legs is dependence. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.dreamy-hairstyles.com/image-files/rosie_the_riveter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.dreamy-hairstyles.com/image-files/rosie_the_riveter.jpg" width="247" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-38865657952501718092011-02-16T12:55:00.001+00:002011-02-16T13:05:44.768+00:00I'm on my way, I'm on my way Home sweet home, tonight tonight..(motley crue)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">courtesy of Nelly Duff</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've been rather rubbish at this blogging lark haven't I. Sometimes it's a real struggle to think of something to say. Something of any interest anyway. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Its been a busy month or so though, insomuch that I have moved house. (hurrah!)</div><div style="text-align: center;">At 28 years old, i am FINALLY in a living situation that I love. I moved out of home when i was 21, and ever since where ever i have lived i have not been truly happy. Now, i have moved in with one of my greatest friends, into the most BEAUTIFUL house. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are busy 'nesting' i suppose. The cupboards are full of chocolate and wine. And we've just had Sky installed. (goodbye life) - no really, Chocolate, Wine and Broadwalk Empire sounds just about the most perfect evening in the world. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am busy decorating my room. And SO SO SO excited to finally be able to buy household items. Seriously, our kitchen looks like Cath Kidson showroom.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have homes for things. THAT IS EXCITING. not everything i posess has to live in my room. I put my medicines in the MEDICINE CABINET in the BATHROOM the other day. This thrilled me. (loser). my books are in a bookcase. I HAVE CUSHIONS. and we have a fish! oh and it's just all so exciting. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I know this sounds pretty ridiculous to most people, but really i've had a pretty rough deal when it comes to living situations. Here is a brief overview:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">2004: i moved out of home to live 100miles away with my then-boyfriends of 3 months (yeah, like that was going to work). I moved in with his parents. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">2005: we moved into our own house. perfect. kinda. except we had to live with one of his friends, so it wasn't 'ours' and the relationship was crap and i was unhappy anyway.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">2006 - 2007: then-boyfriend I and i broke up and i lived in no less than 3 houses. given that the break up happened a bit like this: "so, we need to renew the lease in a few weeks?" "yeah, about that. i'm moving out" -so i had to take shelter where i could, i moved into a spare room at an acquaintances house. She had a mental mental cat that would screech at me and scratch me. I think it may have been the devil.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Next house was another houseshare with some "young professionals" - a couple and the guy's girlfriend. The duration of my stay there was heavily accented by a random french girl taking the other room except never actually sleeping in there as she was shagging the brother. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Next, and it was a houseshare with two friends. Which started off pretty awesome until one of them smoked so much pot in the 6 months we were there that he developed psychosis and sold all his posessions at the boot fair, quit his job and spend his whole day sitting on his window cill in his pyjamas. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">After that failure, i moved back to my mums as i found a job in London, stayed there for about 2 months. mmmm... moving home. Well, didn't i just feel like the accomplished adult. So, when another aquaintance was looking for a housemate for the spare room at their house.. i went for it. I went for all 8ftx8ft2 space, with only a sofa bed and a PINK Argos canvas wardrobe. I mean, i did what i could with the place but when the floor space is so small you're tight rope walking to your bed and when the kitchen and bathroom haven't seen domestos in at least 5 years, what can you do? </div><div style="text-align: center;">I stayed there 2 years, i wouldn't have but i spent my weekends in Canterbury so i was barely there. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">late 2009: after eventually finding a job back in Kent, I moved in with my then- boyfriend III. (There was a then-boyfriend II, but he doesn't really feature in any living situations - i can count. promise)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yet again another mistake. This house was probably by far the worse (mostly because i actually have to live in it. 5yearabsentdomestoshouse i really only stayed in occasionally)</div><div style="text-align: center;">oh no, then-boyfriend III house was something special indeed.<br />
<br />
first thing you need to know is that it was TINY. like, couldn't swing a gerbil let alone a cat, tiny. and in this space there lived a dog. not a small dog, a basset hound. a great big fuck off huge basset hound. who didn't know his own name. A special kind of stupid. and not just stupid. oh no, destructive, angry, bitey and generally loathsome.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not that i blame him, i'd be an angry little motherfu**er if i had to live in a kitchen about as big as my arse (which although larger than the average, in terms of kitchen size probably not so big) on unwashed bedding, getting about an hours human contact a day, and that mostly through a grill separating the living room to the kitchen.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">the kitchen floor wasn't cleaned. Angrydog would protest wee quite alot and it was mopped up with kitchen towel, maybe a spray of anti-bac spray and then left. he'd been there 4 years and i bought a mop about 6 months before i moved in. I recall it was used once with all the novelty of a 3 year old getting a new toy and then left to fester outside the back door until the handle went rusty, the water in the bucket fell stagnant and the mop itself, mouldy.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then-boyfriend III also used to use wax in his hair daily, this resulted in a waxy film covering everything in the bathroom and the sofas (thus resulting in a lovely glue for Angrydogs' hair to affix too)</div><div style="text-align: center;">BASICALLY... he didn't clean. There was no room for any of my things. It didn't feel like home. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But thankfully we broke up anyway. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So... 2010: i moved (very quickly) into a houseshare nearby. To start with it was pretty good! the house was nice. and the one housemate that was already seemed nice too. (anything other than the word nice doesn't really fit here). Anyway.... it was... uh.. nice. then some more people moved in and it wasn't quite so nice. But it was somewhere to lay my head. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">By now, i was 27, and as you can see from my 'tales 'o woe' i hadn't ever really had a place to call mine, or lived with anyone i actually really really wanted to live with. </div><div style="text-align: center;">i'm not asking for sympathy.. i made all those decisions and without alot of them i wouldn't be where i am now (which is very happy by the way) but yes...I needed a Home.(with a capital H), stat. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">it came about, (in not the best way) that one of my best friends was looking to move too; so we decided to start looking together. it took a while of on/off searching, (mostly because we were indulging in a bit of post break up crazy) but we found it. Our House. and we moved in last week. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd like to invite you all round for tea from polka dot teapots and cupcakes made in my new silicone cases and we can sit on our sofa and drink wine and watch tele. and in the summer, you can all come round for BBQ's in the MASSIVE garden that's ALL OURS!!!!!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm hoping i'm writing well enough to make my relief and happiness at finally having a real home, palpable. and that it makes some sense how this isn't just another move. and even if we don't stay at that house for long its going to be one of my favourite experiences of my life. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-40550140681124400972011-01-06T11:09:00.001+00:002011-01-06T11:10:24.752+00:00pickly subject...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.reflected-loaf.co.uk/images/67_Gherkins.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="http://www.reflected-loaf.co.uk/images/67_Gherkins.gif" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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This Christmas, I was deprived of my Gerkhins. I was quite upset by this. I thought i should drop the good folk of Marks & Sparks a line to let them know my dissatisfaction. I do hope I get a reply...<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Dear M&S,</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>This may sound like rather an odd complaint; however, I would like to voice my disappointment at the lack of gherkins available over the festive period. Yes. Gherkins. I realise that this pickled good is probably of little importance to you, however, for the past 28 years there has been one staple of my boxing day left over lunch, and this is the Marks & Spencer gherkin. True to your tagline, these are not just Gherkins. They are Marks & Spencer Gherkins. They are tiny pickily cucumbers floating in a sea of dill and mustard seeds on top of a thatching of sliced onion. I daresay Harrods food court couldn't do a better gherkin. Oh, how I look forward to these every year. Alas, this year they were nowhere to be found. Nowhere, not in my local store in Canterbury, not in your brand spanking new Simply Food store just outside Canterbury, not in St Albans, Watford, Winchester or Southampton. Has there been a national cucumber shortage this year? For when one walked down the ailse of Sainsbury's, Tesco's etc there were jars and jars of the things in their resplendent glory. Sadly, they are not M&S and simply would not do.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Despite my huge disappointment, and the fact that for the first time in my life my boxing day sandwich was sorely lacking on the pickle front, I am sure you will be glad to hear that this incident alone did not ruin my Christmas, however, it was a close call.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Please tell me that I will not have to suffer the Mrs. Elwood soggy, sour gerkhins again that that by some cruel twist of fate that the above stores had simply sold out and I was just unlucky, not that they have been discontinued as one of your lovely employees dared suggest. For this, I could not take.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>As an end note, please, despite the hilarity of the subject matter, this is a serious complaint. I really do love your gherkins and I was very much distressed that I couldn't find any in the run up to Christmas.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Yours sincerely,</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Caroline </i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-23691727304282618462010-12-21T12:49:00.001+00:002010-12-21T12:51:31.773+00:00the best laid plans of mice and er..women...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.corbisimages.com/images/67/A019A299-4CB9-4263-AC7F-74ABA9B3CC61/42-20042253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.corbisimages.com/images/67/A019A299-4CB9-4263-AC7F-74ABA9B3CC61/42-20042253.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, I have been rather rubbish haven't I? After all that talk about blogging I seem to have gone 6 weeks without a peep. So sorry. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would claim to be wonderfully busy, with no time at all to document my fast paced social life, but, in fact, as is often the way, these weeks have passed me by in a haze of "meh", "squeee", "bah!" and back to "meh" (I do prefer onomatopoeic verbs, even if i do make them up myself) </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">anyway, with Christmas rapidly approaching, i have found myself feeling the need to document a few things. what does christmas mean, to you, rather.. not in a biblical sense?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when i was little, it was sitting the the school hall making christingles, trying to sneakily steal jelly tots from under the teachers noses. it was making mince pies with my mum. it was undernocircumstancesmustyouenterthelivingroomonyourown and spending hours sitting in my room peeking at my stocking waiting until i could wake up my parents (5am right? right.) </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when i was a bit older it was going christmas shopping with my friend Alicia. Every year. The 23rd. (we liked to cut it fine... infact, that was the day we got our pocket money). it was the precision and care i took to wrap all my presents. it was the youth club christmas disco. it was spending hours sitting in my room with my sister peeking at our stockings waiting until we could wake up my parents (6am right? right.) </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fast forward a bit. it was getting dressed up in fairy wings and christmas hats and working christmas eve before heading out with all your friends to do the obligatory ohmygoditschristmasiloveyouohmygodimsodrunk (...yeah that bit is still the same 10 years on), getting woken up with a hangover by my sister who was peeking at her stocking and waiting until she can wake up mum (7.30 right? right.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So thats the three stages of a child's Christmas for me. small child, older child, teenager. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">then what? what happens when you're no longer a kid, by any stretch of the imagination. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you move away, you're not there to make mince pies with your mum (at least i'm not, when i fled the nest i flew a good 100 miles south-east which makes popping round to bake pies a bit difficult), you're not there to put the christmas decorations up while listening to Bing et al. and most importantly, you're not waking up spending hours in your room, with or without sister/hangover wondering when you can open your presents (hang on, no matter what i will most likely always have a hang over on christmas morning, so we can scrap that). In fact, you're not waking up in your room at all. You're making new traditions. and BOOM, you're an adult. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">just like that. smacked in the face with a great big wet smoked salmon (and quails eggs).</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">personally, every christmas that i haven't spent at home i have found oddly miserable. i haven't been forced to stay away at all. i've made the decision myself. yet, i wake up on christmas morning with respective OH and my mum calls to wish merry christmas and the familiar satsuma in the back of the throat thing happens and "how could i do this? what am i doing? i want to go hooooooooooome. this isn't CHRISTMAS!?" </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so this year, I am going home. it was a tough decision. a big part of me wanted to stay here with my friends, but then living alone this year, and the prospect of waking up on christmas morning on my own. (NB: if this every happens, it is likely i will hang myself from a christmas tree with a length of tinsel) AND the fact that my grandparents are very unwell, thought it was time to make the pilgrimage homeward.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the hard thing is, i find at christmas, is trying to decide to be an adult or a child. i think a lot of us turn into kids at christmas time, but trying to balance that with the responsibilities of being an adult is a bit of a bore sometimes. So this year, I surrender. I am going to get drunk with my sister on christmas eve (that is an adult trait that is allowed to stay in the childhood christmas wonderland in my head), and wake up and open my stocking with my sister and mum in her room (8.30am right? right.), eat quails eggs and smoked salmon (which i haven't prepared) and wear my goddamn santa hat in the car to visit the relatives. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may even stay up to see if i can see father christmas.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-31547734598747229642010-10-07T11:18:00.000+01:002010-10-07T11:18:23.987+01:00return to sender...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">mostly when i sit down to do something a bit arty, i tend to stick to what i know, which tends to be big bold acrylic or water colour pieces, mostly in a tattoo style. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">however, some time ago i experimented with something a bit more 'conceptual' (perhaps). the piece its self involved no 'actual' artwork as such, but it was the idea behind it that meant something more than pretty colours on a page. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">it was indicative to how i was feeling at the time. i felt it said a lot about the fragility of the heart and such like and how easily things come and go. i decided initially that it was a bit 'emo' (it is) and would never see the light of day, as i felt it made me vulnerable, however, that time has now passed and i thought i'd share it. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEuGjXboPzXbEKuCmfOsJt-ztTyt3FcXvVCXRqX1QqygPXCC5OUpqc6edf1Y2k2vq-glecaQ_kXpKYZAea889x9bjKqdd9Q4UvIM1989836_eoUhE29fEFBbW505JPpu107-Mh1w5_Bs/s1600/photo4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEuGjXboPzXbEKuCmfOsJt-ztTyt3FcXvVCXRqX1QqygPXCC5OUpqc6edf1Y2k2vq-glecaQ_kXpKYZAea889x9bjKqdd9Q4UvIM1989836_eoUhE29fEFBbW505JPpu107-Mh1w5_Bs/s640/photo4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">comprised of nothing more than an envelope, some scribbles and a heavily processed photograph, the 'artistic ability' involved is minimal, however, i quite liked how it turned out. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">xo</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-24170529720951603632010-10-04T15:04:00.003+01:002010-10-04T16:03:52.810+01:00i'm as free as a bird as now...(or am i?)<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.campusgifts.co.uk/acatalog/EM_54-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.campusgifts.co.uk/acatalog/EM_54-lg.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">hmm, i've been thinking. about life and that. mostly relationships. with boys. (or girls, whatever is your preference). relationships of the emotional/sexual variety. in fact, just that emotional vs. sexual. is it truly possible, ladies to have a sexual relationship without getting emotions involved? i've thought a few times in my life that this was possible (and before this post makes me out to be some kind of floozy - i mean literally a couple of times, i'm a bit rubbish [gladly] with my notches on my bedpost and can assure you wouldn't win any kind of contest with my peers), i mean, i didn't want the constraints and hassle that goes with having a boyfriend, and after all, from my experience, boyfriends tend to generally be a bad idea on the whole. but i quite liked the idea of having someone to text, perhaps have a bit of a kiss 'n' a cuddle and little youknowwhat occasionally. that should satiate me right, i don't want a boyfriend. and then it happens and its cool for a while. in fact you feel (by you, i mean me) a bit smug and liberated - i am a modern woman! i am being selfish. i don't care! yeah, i don't need to be a soppy girl, i don't need any of that. ah-ha! i am a man. and then, one day, out of the blue. oh, he didn't text me? why didn't text me? (why should he, its not like he's YOUR BOYFRIEND - you know, the thing you don't want) ok, so, uh, he still hasn't texted. oh he texted, that was a bit vague. i wonder what that meant? i wonder if he wants to see me again? i hope so, i mean i hope 'that' isn't all he's after... oh wait. shit. bugger. penny drops.so that was all you (me) was after and then something happens and DING you like the guy. do you like the guy? he's nice and that right? yeah, sure. do you really think 'A Relationship' would work? no, probably not. BUTHEHASN'TTEXTEDME. and there you have it. girls, we're wired up funny. i know this is no shocking revelation. but men/boys can just 'do the deed' and carry on and somewhere along the line, us girls get caught up and then wham, you're in a bit of a pickle. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">don't get me wrong. i'm not referring to being heartbroken, i just mean, there's a twinge. a niggling feeling. that boys just don't get. we can't seperate the two, sex and emotions. when you're a girl at least. they're they are skipping down the road joined forever in blissful (notalotof) harmony.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">bastards. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">xo</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-41541149228204606172010-10-03T11:01:00.000+01:002010-10-03T11:01:44.281+01:00just sayin...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i would be quite happy if last night just didn't happen. but on the upside, it has made me realise just how much of a better person i am than some other people. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">to think that some people think they have the right to speak to you like you are scum for absolutely no reason at all. once upon a time i would have been upset, but no. not this time. it's just made me realise just how much better am without certain persons in my life. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">yeah. i win. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">xo</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-28531131075550768612010-10-02T10:51:00.000+01:002010-10-02T10:51:09.519+01:00sugar & vice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs311.snc4/40865_419816086492_37992071492_5174994_5430845_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs311.snc4/40865_419816086492_37992071492_5174994_5430845_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">i thought i'd take a little time to talk about sugar & vice designs. </div><div style="text-align: center;">sugar & vice started in 2006 by my dear friend sarah law and her other half. they offer original designs all lovingly crafted by hand, at a very reasonable price! since the recent addition of bespoke acrylic laser cut jewellery things seem to be going from strength to strength. given the economic climate, small companies are going under left right and centre, but sugar & vice have managed to keep their heads way above the water. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">so often when looking at alt jewellery websites, sellers are asking an arm and a leg, way more than what the trinket itself is worth, sugar & vice is honestly priced and you get a free wee gift with your order!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">having seen just how hard these guys work to make their business successful, all the hours, the thought behind the products and designs, it is clear that it is their first love. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">i thought i'd pick out a few of my favourite pieces. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/peapod_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/peapod_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/necklaces/horseshoenecklace.jpg" width="200" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/gothiccameo_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/gothiccameo_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/exclusives/heartbanner_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/exclusives/heartbanner_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/exclusives/namenecklace_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/exclusives/namenecklace_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/drinktea_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/necklaces/drinktea_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/earrings/tikigirl_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/earrings/tikigirl_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/bracelets/lilybracelet_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/bracelets/lilybracelet_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/rings/horseshoering_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/images/medium/rings/horseshoering_MED.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">please take a few minutes to have a look at the <a href="http://www.sugarandvicedesigns.com/">website</a> and their <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sugar-Vice/37992071492?v=info">facebook</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">oh, and that is me up top, with miss sarah law herself and our partner in crime, ruth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-35720701220304004172010-10-01T10:50:00.003+01:002010-10-01T17:12:59.945+01:00last nights outfit...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTM3L251XgD4EiMjzUPpQsrQCoxtTa_x_aa3IQMaNJNYUtcPBrlxm1iasUykpTInxWRzor0TcBQA16KXC3YwRAkUMj-CL3ptaBbxiKKphzXtAnejOdpNimbcNrFZ_MDX8SiGzDnH3Rp4/s1600/outfit+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTM3L251XgD4EiMjzUPpQsrQCoxtTa_x_aa3IQMaNJNYUtcPBrlxm1iasUykpTInxWRzor0TcBQA16KXC3YwRAkUMj-CL3ptaBbxiKKphzXtAnejOdpNimbcNrFZ_MDX8SiGzDnH3Rp4/s400/outfit+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This was last night's outfit to jive class. not particularly awe inspiring. most people tend to just go in jeans, but if i'm dancing i simply can't. it's not the same, i like to feel uh.. 'swishy'. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">i quite liked the outfit, although there were a few outfit malfunctions throughout the night. the dress is 2 sizes too big for me, and needed a quick repair when i got in from work (which turned into major alterations). i wore an elasticated waist belt to hold it all in, as it is too big, i didn't like the silhouette of the top half so i paired it with a cute cropped red cardigan. as i was dancing, i wore simple black patent flats. underneath i wore a 1 layer pink petticoat (this was where the wardrobe malfunction would occur - the skirt of the dress is more of a dirndl style and although full, doesn't swing out so much when dancing, the petticoat gave it oomph for walking around in, but when doing turns, the petticoat swing out from under the dress, thus causing the dress to ride up. ooh err)</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">i don't think i'd wear it for dancing again, but it's a pretty cute day outfit. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">as you can see, i didn't bother with my hair or any accessories. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">to my delight, when looking at the pictures i realised that this really is a budget outfit. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">dress: primark (3 years? ago) £16</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">cardigan: matalan £6</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">belt: H&M £3</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">shoes: Shoezone £7.99</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">news from last night is that i will be going to hemsby, which is quite exciting, only for the saturday, but still, i am rather excited. expect more outfit posts (better ones) in regards to that one! </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">so it's friday, and this week has gone pretty darn fast (thankfully) and i am looking forward to the weekend although i don't have any discernible plans and with needing to save money for hemsby i can't be extravagant, but i believe a 'girlie' night tonight, and a gig tomorrow and possibly a trip over to the beach on sunday. </span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-51597057351819100712010-09-30T16:51:00.007+01:002010-10-02T11:02:39.957+01:00She's gonna love me in my Chevy van, and that's all right with me<a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs067.snc3/13438_445372406534_509496534_6428211_4723204_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs067.snc3/13438_445372406534_509496534_6428211_4723204_n.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 604px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 604px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">on tuesday i had my first taste of a proper classic bike and car meet at the blue pigeon</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> in worth, kent. i have previously been to various car shows, but this was the first more intimate "less poncy" more fun one i had the pleasure of attending.</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">the landlady, marylin and her partner have recently been taking part in </span></span><a href="http://www.channel4.com/4homes/on-tv/three-in-a-bed/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">channel 4 tv show "three in a bed"</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and channel 4 were there to film. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">sadly(?) i don't think i made it on to camera but enjoyed the sites. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">there weren't too many cars there, given that it was a fairly small car park outside the pub, but there was lots of chatting, drinking and sitting on bonnets of very pretty cars.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">there was an older couple there, i don't think specifically for the meet itself who had a couple of gorgeous dogs, and i got chatting. they commented on the way we were all dressed and asked if we could dance. well yes, we can, so nicky and i had a little jive amongst the cars, which was fun. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">we weren't there for very long, the trouble with standing around and looking at cars, is that well, you're standing around looking at cars, and being less of a petrol head and more of an appreciative of the aesthetics of older cars, it was soon time to go. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">only one thing tarnished the evening, sadly, and that is the immaturity of some people. hey ho. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">i am pleased to say that marylin won! i'm not sure when the show will be aired, but you'll get to see lots of awesome hotrods and it seems like it'll be a bit more interesting that what i usually see on that show (from what i have seen)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">i am afraid i did not have my camera, so there are no pictures of that evening, however, as it is on topic i have put a picture i took at the Chicken Run 2010 back in July which hopefully you'll enjoy. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">xo</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-2561708659814334962010-09-30T16:45:00.003+01:002010-10-01T16:22:16.004+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">following on from my last post, i bring you the 'Espresso Martini'</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2 shots of espresso</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">25ml vodka</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">25ml kahlua</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">12.5ml baileys</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">12.5ml tia maria</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">12.5ml amaretto</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">pour all over ice and shake, strain into a martini glass and garnish with a few coffee beans. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">be hopelessly awake for hours. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">perfect for when you're out for the night and you're starting to feel a bit sleepy around the 8-9 o'clock mark. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">enjoy</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">xo</span></i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-31496883773485715162010-09-27T10:07:00.004+01:002010-10-01T16:22:56.260+01:00all good things come to an end...<a href="http://www.exchange3d.com/cubecart/images/uploads/aff1375///NeonSign_Cocktails.zip_thumbnail1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.exchange3d.com/cubecart/images/uploads/aff1375///NeonSign_Cocktails.zip_thumbnail1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Mondays. i don't like them. suddenly your weekend has come to an end and it's back to the daily grind for another 5 days. *grump*</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>having had a rather fun weekend, i am less than pleased to be sitting at my desk. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Friday night was spent watching Deathproof with rather pleasant company and saturday involved a drive up to london to see the Ben Cooper Trio, then a brief visit to the boston arms. I have to say i'm always rather disappointed with the london 'rockin'' scene. everyone seems much more concerned with the way they look rather than having fun. given that it was £10 entry and there was not really any dancing, just a lot of standing around. I did however sample many cocktails and purchased a new top from </i></span></span><a href="http://www.collectif.co.uk/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Collectif</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>. Now, i had not yet had a chance to visit the new store in camden, the last time i went it was a pokey little thing. this new store is a-maz-ing. i could have spent hundreds of pounds. there were so many styles and prints not even featured on the website, and as with most things, it was delightful to actually be able to try things on rather than order online and not actually know how they will look. So i purchased the deloras top in red and white. I adore this cut, I already own the red and white polka dot wiggle dress in the same style, which I have decided to wear tomorrow to the </i></span></span><a href="http://http//i34.photobucket.com/albums/d149/thebopcat/bluepigeoncarmeet.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Blue Pigeon Classic Car Show</i></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I digress. Yes, so saturday was fun, and yesterday was also good. I went over to The Farmhouse tent at the Euro Fair in Canterbury's Dane John Gardens to be a supportive face for a friend who was djing. despite the monsoon style weather causing a lack of attendance just about everywhere it was nice to catch up with some people briefly and have a little dance. Then a few sunday afternoon cider's sheltering in a pub before heading home to be lazy, order pizza and watch Juno with a friend. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i> </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>I think i'm getting rather comfortable with my "singledom" now. i don't think i really want any more than a little male attention to keep me satiated, which i think is a rather good place to be in really. </i></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-4857516883723373702010-09-24T15:12:00.004+01:002010-10-01T16:23:23.171+01:00Things...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vy6yaJZZfPP9J5EaeKQd_dcwXjZakDq9W4u7KBnL_UY0ds6fMzsxZd5bUSB5lWpuy_RuvnmqTg0otPz7HOsJr0M58H0S9fR46hyphenhyphenGMCVRGZbgfAioGfEtf_wSVXDzd38Is-vK8oVoqA0/s1600/vintage+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vy6yaJZZfPP9J5EaeKQd_dcwXjZakDq9W4u7KBnL_UY0ds6fMzsxZd5bUSB5lWpuy_RuvnmqTg0otPz7HOsJr0M58H0S9fR46hyphenhyphenGMCVRGZbgfAioGfEtf_wSVXDzd38Is-vK8oVoqA0/s1600/vintage+2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 567px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>yes, things. What is it about things that we covet. Everyone likes 'things' whether your interest lies in technology shaped things, to clothing, ornament type things, garden shaped things. We all, unashamedly love things. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>When was the last time you had a "ohmygodihavetohavethisismylifenoworiwillcertainlydie" moments? </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>i have these moments quite frequently, so frequently in fact that years ago i managed to get into a ridiculous amount of debt in order to own these thing. the things in question, were clothes, trinkets. if i had gone on a round the world trip, or had even bough an insane amount of valuable vintage then fine. but no. most of these things are now ludicrously dated and are sitting in massive suitcase in my basement (which until a few weeks ago had developed its own ecosystem and was producing fungus from the walls - nice)</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>my new passion, kitchen things. never mind that i haven't actually done a "big shop" in months and despite only having a can of kidney beans, a jar of lemon curd, a jar of marmite and an array of herbs and spices in my cupboard at home (im not joking, i finished off the last of my pasta a few days ago, i was going to have it dry but i procured some pesto from my housemate last minute) - i like kitchen things. My le creuset casserole sits proudly on the window ledge even though that hasn't been used in god knows how long, along side various kitsch trays adorned with elvgren girls, about 12 cookery books. on the side sits my polka dot tea set (unused). Recently Wilkinson were offering pastel cooking utensils and jugs and bowls and ddlasjdfhlsfj everything. que "</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>ohmygodihavetohavethisismylifenoworiwillcertainlydie" moment. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My point is, is that i don't suppose anyone really wants to think of themselves as completely materialistic. i mean, i value family and friends much more than "things". but owning things seems to make you feel better. how many times ladies have you felt down in the dumps and just wanted to buy something to make yourself feel better? i guess the term "retail therepy" was coined for a reason. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>moral of the story - owning things makes you feel good. yes, i guess i'm materialistic. i'm dealing with it well.</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>xo</i></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-3213102292692624372010-09-24T12:42:00.005+01:002010-10-01T16:23:47.402+01:00Fun and Games...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qoyhEOZwLg8/TJyw8090iwI/AAAAAAAAABo/RhYFoBim09I/s1600/melancholy_autumn.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520481802305964802" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qoyhEOZwLg8/TJyw8090iwI/AAAAAAAAABo/RhYFoBim09I/s320/melancholy_autumn.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>So, Yet again a ridiculously long time has elapsed since my last update. there is much to say but i shan't say it. suffice to say that since my last update, the hypnotherapy didn't last and my boyfriend and i broke up in may. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>as we peer expectantly towards 2011, through the yellowing trees, cooler days, longer nights i don't think i will be the first one out of my group of friends to happily wave good bye to this year. 2010 has been turbulent to say the least with many more downs than ups for most everyone i know. whether it be money worries, career based or good old fashioned heart break the gods seem to have been out in force this year wrecking havoc all over the place. with only a few more months to endure i sure hope things start to look up for everyone. i for one will be welcoming 2011 with open arms. </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Friends, 2011 will be our year.</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>xo</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-33495276505960168442010-03-30T12:38:00.004+01:002010-10-01T10:28:57.865+01:00<div style="text-align: center;">T<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>hursday 25</i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>th</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> March, I had </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>hypnotherapy</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Why? To stop eating. Not literally stop all together. That would be </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>ridiculous</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, to stop OVER eating.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I am obsessed with food, or rather, is that </i></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">'was'. </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>My life mostly revolved around food:</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bored:Eat</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Sad:Eat</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Angry:Eat</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Happy:Eat etc etc</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>and I couldn't stop when I was full. Just kept eating. Snacking. Picking. Just one more biscuit, just a small bit of cheese (x5). Walking down the </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>highstreet</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> was like </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>torture</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, a variety of fast food outlets, </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>cafes</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, restaurants, patisseries all oozing out their inviting smell. I felt like Alice in Wonderland except everything had a little label on it saying "Eat Me".</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I'd see a recipe and start to salivate, I was hopeless at food shopping and would either come out with EVERYTHING or nothing at all in fear of buying a loaf of bread would lead to me eating the whole loaf and a block of cheese.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> it wasn't JUST my compulsion to eat, there was portion sizes. My boyfriend has (as most men do) a MUCH faster metabolism than me and can eat and eat and eat. So when we cook, I have to cook </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>al ot</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> more, and he gets double portions, or rather he should, but I always ended up dishing up half and half, (after the </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>obligatory</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> cook's snack whilst cooking).</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Now, by rights I should be the size of a house. I'm not, I am overweight. UK size 14. 12 if I'm lucky. But certainly not FAT. I used to be though, and last year I managed to loose 3.5 stone (43lbs). I went a bit crazy really, barely ate and survived on diet coke and cigarettes. But I did it, went from a size 18 - 12 (</i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I've</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> put a little bit on....) between January and April/May 2009.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>But I could see the old habits returning. "Oh... I'll just have this, Oh, just one more." Trouble was I could see I wasn't normal in my eating habits, my friends love food, and we like to go out for meals, but they're not OBSESSED like I seemed to be?</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Enough back story. A woman at work is also a </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>hypnotherapist</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, talking to her jokingly one day about her hypnotising me to stop eating , she said she would. A couple of months later, I decided, well it can't hurt can it? She did it for free, so I had nothing to loose. So last Thursday, after work I "went under".</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Now, it's not "going under" I was fully aware of everything that was going on, I can remember everything she said to me, I can remember everything I said to her. She had told me she was going to do a re-frame. Change the way I think about eating and food. After about half and hour it was over. It was quite emotional in places as she tried to go back to where perhaps in my life I started overeating and why I may have etc. She also made me think about something that has happened that made me feel really happy in life. Several things and to hold on to them, let the feeling wash over you etc. then anchor it between your thumb and finger and keep it there. That is your anchor. any wobbles, any worries, use the anchor, pinch your thumb and forefinger together and that feeling will wash over you.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Now... I'm not skeptical at all, I'm quite open minded, but at the same time I had no idea if any of this would work. Why would it, I didn't feel any different afterwards, I wasn't "under", there was no great </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>epiphany</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>. It was 6.30 and I was going home to make me some dinner before I went out to meet a friend for a drink. (ah look food again)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>So I went home, made a jacket </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>potato</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> and tuna. I ate it, and </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>bizarrely</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, I was full. Actually full, it wasn't a big potato. only a small bit of tuna. (thought </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I'd</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> try and be good) - I went to the pub to meet my friend and was actually struggling to have a drink because I felt so full up. Weired. Mind over matter.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Next day, got a sandwich at lunch (M&S Count on Us) and </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>CoU</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> crisps, couldn't finish the crisps. Threw them away. didn't want them.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>In the evening, had a ready meal as I was going out and didn't have time. One of those piddly little things. Full.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Way home, was hungry, had a chicken </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Shish</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>, BF wanted to get big greasy pizza. Now, I was actually hungry, so I ate. I didn't want something greasy and bad, i wanted something relatively healthy.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Saturday, friends and I went out to lunch, they had pizzas etc, I really </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>wasn't</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> very hungry so I had a starter and was full, didn't even want the garlic bread that my 3 year old friends son didn't want, (and </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>believe</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> me i would have polished that off in a second a week ago!). But again the strange thing is is that I </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>GENUINELY</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> don't want it.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This behavior has carried on and on, I even went out for Curry on Sunday evening. I couldn't finish it all and I couldn't finish my lunch or dinner last night.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>just simply too full, I don't think about food unless it's a meal time, and I still love food and love to cook, but don't want it unless </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I'm</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> hungry.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>It's fantastic, of course I don't know how long it'll last. But it's as if my whole attitude has changed. L (</i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Hypno</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> lady) thinks it should last forever really, as it's a </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>re frame</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>. Not an aversion to food.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I love food, but I don't want it thanks!</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I feel like this must be how normal people are with normal eating habits. I don't want to spend my life on a diet. I just want to be able to eat what I want but in moderation and stop when I'm full... to be able to recognise when I'm full.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And that's exactly what I'm doing and hopefully in a few weeks I'll see some results in the way of lbs.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I am going to use this blog to document how well I do and how I feel about food </i></span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>as well</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> as day to day things that I love such as dancing, Vintage fashions and lifestyle, sewing (or rather my comedic attempts to) and various other bits and bobs which make me, me.</i></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-43925712985815937082009-06-10T13:18:00.006+01:002010-10-01T10:33:04.315+01:00<div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ah ha. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Haven't updated in forever. I sorted started it didn't I, and never came back. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>162lbs now. Good stuff. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>What else. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Well, to be honest I have become rather enraged about something the last few days, and that is the BNP. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Obviously I am anti fasist, but I am also the first to admit that this country does have a lax attitude to immigration and that something does need to be done. Also the way that as a </i></span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">technically</span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Christian country, in some instances some towns have been reported as not allowing Christmas Lights to be used and replaces with the religiously ambiguous, </i></span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Festive Lights.</span></span></em></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I also get annoyed at the volume of people in the country that don't make any effort to speak English. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>HOWEVER, Nick Griffin, Holocaust denier, joined the National Front at 15, chums with the former leader of America's infamous Klu Klux Klan, is HE REALLY what this country needs. Aside from his accutly repulsive physical appearance and demeanour... how coudl ANYONE in this day and age not perform a quick Google search and read up on the BNP policies and then conclue that this is the best that Britain has to offer politically??</i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I saw something that outraged me on Twitter just now, "tweeted" by some ignoramus.</i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"British Jobs for British People" </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>First of all, (this is could be a gross over-estimate - but indulge me) I assume that most of the people who voted BNP or share their ideals are of working class background. And this is not merely an assumption, I have yet to see or hear an articulate, well educated BNP spokesperson or candidate.</i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Now.. lets turn to council estates. Most of the ones I have visited or know of are predominately full of British white people. Having never had a job in their lives, spewing out babies at 13 and spending my money on White Lightening, Special Brew and Super Kings. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"but they can't get jobs... All the jobs are given to immigrants" Really? Really? I have a job. So do my friends. So does my mother and my sister. Immigrants don't have our jobs. We do. Because we went and got them. Sourced them. Applied for them. Y'know... checked websites, newspapers, did one of those CV things, worked at school, got some GCSE's, like, y'know. AN EDUCATION. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Could it possibly be fact that 58% of new doctors who enter the NHS stitching up the latest brawl between dole swallowing idiots are in fact immigrants. Now, I don't suppose the government went... right... we only want immigrant doctors. Perhaps that's because those people worked bloody hard at their education and wanted to work in a country where (supposedly) has a tolerant attitude towards foreigners and accepts them as their own. That maybe the best person for the job and absolutely nothing to do with the (shock horror), the colour of their skin and that actually they're just better than you. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>These people are so eager to blame everyone else for their short comings. The fact that you have never had a job and have claimed the dole ever since you turned 16 is not the fault of the honest working Indian Doctor, Polish builder etc... it's because you're crap. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The more I see of this country the sicker it makes me feel to be a part of this country. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I could go on. But it's lunch time and I'm hungry. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Noone will read this anyway, so I won't bother looking it through for spelling errors. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Until next time I have a bee in my bonnet. </i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Goodbye</i></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>xo</i></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-28231397012549660722009-03-27T00:27:00.005+00:002009-03-27T00:32:56.509+00:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >I forgot, I wanted to post this picture. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >It's from our day trip to Rye in Sussex a couple of weekends ago.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >Inside the tourist office, up some stairs was a whole room of vintage fairground amusments.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >He is the creepiest and my favorite. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >I give Rye 10/10.</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" >It might be one of my favorite places ever. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTKLCJc2bhFw_kFFf8lxyRRg5GU2n4CA3rOYYNSK9VAtZM_MVz_wpGurOO3cEdhc3OmOUXBwkhFx31whq74frat2PaKwbgVN3QQ5GFv8jqyi4BeFEXc8EE7LylqZQAlFCI6zSC7nG11M/s1600-h/sailor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTKLCJc2bhFw_kFFf8lxyRRg5GU2n4CA3rOYYNSK9VAtZM_MVz_wpGurOO3cEdhc3OmOUXBwkhFx31whq74frat2PaKwbgVN3QQ5GFv8jqyi4BeFEXc8EE7LylqZQAlFCI6zSC7nG11M/s320/sailor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317658522651950162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">xo</span></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-87026884693614924462009-03-26T15:53:00.003+00:002009-03-27T00:19:11.503+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRhZUCd9b9CkJpDyY1EwWnBh70R-GM2zg6WpANq8Rpb4ZAsnceUsBvlceWBlfLc6uMRe99SAMsLUWhU4893O-pRe7uqKUPwdoRGFlJfzfSdIOE5YMHZKxnN8uVuSSgKeQMBzW9-G-8pk/s1600-h/stepthisway.jpg"><br /></a><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Today feels like it should be Friday.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">My mum is posting me a box of morroccan spices so I can make the dish I made her on Mothers Day for The Boy over the weekend.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Thank god for weekends.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">It can't come soon enough.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRhZUCd9b9CkJpDyY1EwWnBh70R-GM2zg6WpANq8Rpb4ZAsnceUsBvlceWBlfLc6uMRe99SAMsLUWhU4893O-pRe7uqKUPwdoRGFlJfzfSdIOE5YMHZKxnN8uVuSSgKeQMBzW9-G-8pk/s1600-h/stepthisway.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRhZUCd9b9CkJpDyY1EwWnBh70R-GM2zg6WpANq8Rpb4ZAsnceUsBvlceWBlfLc6uMRe99SAMsLUWhU4893O-pRe7uqKUPwdoRGFlJfzfSdIOE5YMHZKxnN8uVuSSgKeQMBzW9-G-8pk/s320/stepthisway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317655309388306578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">xo</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5505802504244224467.post-6851720547134768682009-03-25T22:34:00.003+00:002009-03-25T23:03:45.658+00:00<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >I'm not very cool, I'm not a geek either. I'm fairly average. I am quite nice. Maybe. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >Maybe you'll read about my life. It isn't very exciting.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >I thought I'd start this blog so that I could mostly doument my life and have a place to post pictures of cupcakes and rainbows as well as my friends and I getting rather worse for wear on a Friday night and pictures of pigeons.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >I'm also in the midst of a successful diet and have recently gone from 219lbs to 179lbs. Still another 21 to go. So I can write about that here. Maybe.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >Hopefully it will stop me from eating pizza. I like pizza, and cupcakes, and chinese food. And cider.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >My boyfriend lives 100 miles away with most all my friends, in Canterbury. I visit every weekend and stay near London during the week. For my work. Which isn't terribly exciting. If at all.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >I like vintage things. I wish I could afford all the great peices I've seen over the years.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >I like history, especially World War I & II.</span><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >And this is my favorite picture from the last week</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pigeon feet. This was from when The Boy and I did touristy things in London on Saturday</span>:</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsSIoP1_owLM9b6odxHXHuUtX9z4lq8IeVfq5X4MqhX2V-nvU5V5FFm4zwZL3uUmlOtR5GluvetP1G3YOWsa1LmF-DL42LLAIl66bZQrMAqNqRB9PGB886pzpk3QvSuOXCPD-3y07WkiQ/s1600-h/pigeon+toes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsSIoP1_owLM9b6odxHXHuUtX9z4lq8IeVfq5X4MqhX2V-nvU5V5FFm4zwZL3uUmlOtR5GluvetP1G3YOWsa1LmF-DL42LLAIl66bZQrMAqNqRB9PGB886pzpk3QvSuOXCPD-3y07WkiQ/s320/pigeon+toes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317264124406872226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">xo<br /></span></div><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1