Urgh! I bloody hate shopping, especially in Central London. Especially in the Summer, with all the tourists and group holidays and bloody irritating people........But today was necessary, as the vast majority of my friends decided it would be a good idea to be born in late July and August. You buggers! So I had a serious amount of prezzies to buy and I figured, get em all in one foul swoop and then I don't have to be harangued or harassed more than strictly necessary.
So, I go with these very specific ideas in my head for specific people, which is good, because having no ideas at all is even worse. But of course, my first two plans are foiled by the shop not having the correct sizes and then I start talking myself out of things and thinking, well, maybe I should look for something completely different. But then I think, maybe another branch of the shop would have what I want, it's worth a shot. So I give up on Covent Garden and walk all the way to Carnaby Street, getting only mildly lost in Soho. Even after three years of living here, the place baffles me. But I made it there eventually and of course, they still don't have exactly what I want, so I have to settle for something 95% brilliant, instead of 100%. Still, that's pretty close to brilliant.
But then, the saving grace emerged. The Holy Grail. The Irregular Choice shop and the Sale sign in the window.....haaaaaaaaaaaaaa, and it's like the angels are shining down on me. This is meant to be, I can feel it. My mum gave me money to look for something for my birthday and I already knew I wanted these shoes but I had never thought I'd be over this side of London and now that I was, there seemed no harm in cheering myself up. So I wander in and die at all the wonderfully quirky flats and heels and boots and sandals, many of which are on sale. But then, the shiny patent leather catches my eye, the black t-bar smiling at me from amidst the ocean of colourful shoes. And I clapse my hands on them, stroking the rigid yet smoothness of the shoe, marvelling at it's polka dot wedge heel, my feet dancing with giddiness.
Then a tag catches my eye and my eyes grow wider........They're on sale! They're on sale! They're on sale!!!!!!
Ha ha! In your face, Gods of a shit shopping day! HA! You will be defeated.
But then I slowly realise that these are the only pair out and they are a five. I'm pretty sure I can't squidge my feet into a five, but I try, to no avail. Surely I can't be stricken down at the final hurdle, surely not. Not when they're on sale!
Now normally at this point I would have admitted defeat and left the shop, holey disheartened and pissed off at the world, but a voice inside me said, no, this is not the end, you will have your shoes, just ask the question. So I approach the extremely cool sales assistant, worried that I look ridiculously out of place, clinging on to that shoe with so much hope, and I ask:
"In the sale shoes, is what you've got out all you've got?"
And she replied. "There may be more. Would you like me to check?"
"Yes please." I replied eagerly, like a child wanting more cake. "In a size six please."
In these situations, it's the wait that's so agonising, especially when you have the women's world average sized foot. Which normally means that in all sales, the ones you want are available in fives and sevens, but not in sixes. But pretty soon she emerges, with not one, but two shoes in her hands, a pair. A pair of shoes in a size six, for me! I can't wipe the smile away, I'm practically grinning from ear to ear. All they have to do now is fit. And they do!
I resist the urge to jump around the shop, but I do buy them, and I do rejoice in the fellowship of their much lower price tag. Irregular Choice, I love you! You rock! And you make a terrible afternoon shopping, after a mundane day at work, rather satisfying and mostly worth the struggle.
Now the only problem is the wait until my brithday. But I'm a good girl, I'm sure I'll manage it.
Ha ha. Thanks for reading my very indepth description of what a girl goes through when buying shoes. Maybe now you boys will understand what it means to us. Ha ha. I can't type without laughing. Ha ha.
This was really fun to write. I hope it was as fun to read. Now after my 11 hour day, I'm ready for some tea. mmmmmmmm, toad in the hole for me! Gorgeous!
Happy Tuesday Evening. Hope its a good one, but clearly it wont be as good as mine, because I have amazing shoes. Ha ha ha ha!
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Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Clip clopping, Disney clean freak?
So, this morning I'm up at 7.00 watching Beauty and the Beast whilst tidying up the flat and cleaning everything......As you do. (I must point out here that we were having people over and that I'm not some crazy OCD clean freak......In all honesty I'm normally a bit of a lazy slob. ha ha.)
Anyway. I suddenly realise the flaw in the Disney well oiled machine. Sexual orientation.
As it comes on, they say that the beast has been cursed by the witch and the only way he can break the spell is to get a woman to fall in love with him, and I suddenly thought, what if he wanted a man? What if he was bi-sexual? Ok, I realise this was extremely early 90's, but still.......
Maybe it's something to think about in the future, Disney? Lesbian or Gay protagonists? Bi sexual relationships? You know, mix it up a little.
And another thing I noticed was how similar I am to Belle. She reads whilst walking through the town and I do that through the streets of London. Also, she has that annoying hair that keeps wafting in front of her eyes throughout the whole film. And of course, she's a bit of a weirdo:
"With a dreamy far off look and her nose stuck in a book." Yep, that's definitely me!
Just a short one tonight as I'm pretty knackered.
Does anyone else find it strangely disappointing when they hear a clip clopping shoe noise, coming from behind them and of course you presume it's going to be a woman. But then as they pass you, with their eerily long legs, you realise it's actually a man with pointy shoes on. Come on guys.....that's not fair. It's the one thing that made being a woman pretty bearable. From such a young age, women of all attitude, whether tomboy or gilrly girl, enjoy waltzing around in their mother's heels, clip clopping around. It's all about the noise.
For me, it was my mum's navy blue court shoes and I used to wander up and down the hall clip clopping. It's the mark of a good shoe, just how loud it is. It makes you feel like a real woman and now the bloody men are trying to get in on it as well. Come on.....You already have a penis, why do you need clip clopping shoes too. ha ha.
Anyhoo, after roughly four hours sleep last night, I'm pretty beat.
So, night night.
Helen
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Anyway. I suddenly realise the flaw in the Disney well oiled machine. Sexual orientation.
As it comes on, they say that the beast has been cursed by the witch and the only way he can break the spell is to get a woman to fall in love with him, and I suddenly thought, what if he wanted a man? What if he was bi-sexual? Ok, I realise this was extremely early 90's, but still.......
Maybe it's something to think about in the future, Disney? Lesbian or Gay protagonists? Bi sexual relationships? You know, mix it up a little.
And another thing I noticed was how similar I am to Belle. She reads whilst walking through the town and I do that through the streets of London. Also, she has that annoying hair that keeps wafting in front of her eyes throughout the whole film. And of course, she's a bit of a weirdo:
"With a dreamy far off look and her nose stuck in a book." Yep, that's definitely me!
Just a short one tonight as I'm pretty knackered.
Does anyone else find it strangely disappointing when they hear a clip clopping shoe noise, coming from behind them and of course you presume it's going to be a woman. But then as they pass you, with their eerily long legs, you realise it's actually a man with pointy shoes on. Come on guys.....that's not fair. It's the one thing that made being a woman pretty bearable. From such a young age, women of all attitude, whether tomboy or gilrly girl, enjoy waltzing around in their mother's heels, clip clopping around. It's all about the noise.
For me, it was my mum's navy blue court shoes and I used to wander up and down the hall clip clopping. It's the mark of a good shoe, just how loud it is. It makes you feel like a real woman and now the bloody men are trying to get in on it as well. Come on.....You already have a penis, why do you need clip clopping shoes too. ha ha.
Anyhoo, after roughly four hours sleep last night, I'm pretty beat.
So, night night.
Helen
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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Shakespeare, Potter, Prescilla, Bridesmaids and Eclipse. Busy!
Hey guys, well last I wrote, I was off to the Shakespeare avec Dr C and her charming new fella, Am. Well, I was sceptical, as I always am, but to be honest it was freakin' hilarious. And to add to it, there was some pretty decent sexual tension and all these longing looks across the stage. So, Helen was pretty much sold after about five minutes in. Ha ha. Who knew Shakespeare was a master of the sexual tension? Love it! So I would recommend you try and catch it, if possible. Much Ado about Nothing! Awesome!
Now, when last I blogged, I mentioned what I thought was the weirdest thing ever, which was the guy on the tube shaving, with a portable shaver. I still think that probably is the weirdest thing, but this came pretty close. So, I'm walking back from the tube, late, after the Shakespeare, and of course dodgy headphones are in and I'm on the usual mission to get home as fast as possible. And then I happen to notice a guy on a bike. But not just any bike. A tiny, child's, pink bike with a basket on the front. Bearing in mind he was pretty overweight and about 35 and clearly pissed out of his mind. He was on the telephone too and had completely lost the ability to steer as he wandered from pavement to pavement across the road.
But as he was meandering drunkenly across the road, I found myself thinking: Did he steal it? Is it his own child's? or Does he just like tiny pink bikes? Maybe it's a fetish of his. Who knows? So, that was pretty weird and really funny too. As I came around the corner, he was then driving up and down the white line in the middle of the road. Asking for trouble.......I think so! I was almost expecting to see some crazy headline the next day about a guy run over on a tiny pink bike, complete with basket. But alas, he must have survived the night!
Then Friday was Harry Potter Day, and I was just so giddy all day. I had these random moments at work, where I would just jump and start screaming that it was Harry Potter day, and my kids were like, "What's Harry Potter? What Helen?" Subtext......My teacher is off her rocker! I'm being cared for by a mental patient. Could I have a choice of a sane teacher next time? Ha ha. They wish.
In fact, I think I was so worked up for HP Day, that when it actually came to watching the film, I couldn't take it in. I couldn't relax. I was so tense through the whole thing and I just can't wait to watch it again in a couple of weeks with Cl. Woo Hoo! I have to say though......After 8 films, I finally got my Ron and Hermione kiss. Thank God! And it was pretty good, though of course I would have preferred it if they did it like they did in the book. Oh yeah, Cl, don't read this bit in case I spoil anything. Only kidding, that's it now, that's all I'm gonna say. Except that, it's all over. That's it. Boo Hoo! Well, at least we still have the two installments of Breaking Dawn to look forward to. Ha ha. Freakin' love fantasy! Woo!
I also went to see Priscilla Queen of the Desert with Dr C and Am and it was fab. A huge camp, colourful, every songs a big number, type of show. But it was a lot of fun and it meant I got to see Dr C and Am, three nights in a row. Not sure that was as good for them.....ha ha.
It was quite a busy few days, in terms of doing things, especially as on Saturday me and A went to the cinema to watch Bridesmaids. Ok, so I thought it was just going to be laugh out loud comedy, all the time. Ha ha ha.
But, no. What they don't tell you is how depressive it becomes when everything goes wrong for the lead character and plus her best friend is getting pinched by a complete rich bitch! I took it pretty badly. Again, I blame the funeral which realeased all these stupid feminine emotions, and seemed to plummet me into a dark hole of depression. But really, it was ridiculous. All I was thinking was how hard done by she was, and how I wouldn't blame her if she commited suicide. It would probably have been better than her horrific life. And that's no way to feel during a laugh out loud rom com. Deary me. I think I need to find whatever inner wound is open and oozing, and put a stopper in it, presto! Because I'm getting pretty sick of the old tears. Ridiculous. I think I need putting in a bag of bricks and shaking up. As we say in the Richards family. Ha ha.
Anyhoo, enough of my emotional instability. I had a great night last night, with L, D and T, eating and drinking (a very minimal amount of wine as I felt like poo warmed up) and providing our own audio commentary on The Twilight Saga: Eclipse. He he. It was way better than the actual film.
Comments included:
"My quiff, it's out of control."
And
"Heaven forbid, he should slip in a bit of tongue."
Ha ha. good times.
Well, I'd better get ready for work. Am only half dressed and have to leave in about 16 minutes. Had better give this a quick spell check too.
Happy, manky, grey, undoubtedly wet, Tuesday, to you all!
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Now, when last I blogged, I mentioned what I thought was the weirdest thing ever, which was the guy on the tube shaving, with a portable shaver. I still think that probably is the weirdest thing, but this came pretty close. So, I'm walking back from the tube, late, after the Shakespeare, and of course dodgy headphones are in and I'm on the usual mission to get home as fast as possible. And then I happen to notice a guy on a bike. But not just any bike. A tiny, child's, pink bike with a basket on the front. Bearing in mind he was pretty overweight and about 35 and clearly pissed out of his mind. He was on the telephone too and had completely lost the ability to steer as he wandered from pavement to pavement across the road.
But as he was meandering drunkenly across the road, I found myself thinking: Did he steal it? Is it his own child's? or Does he just like tiny pink bikes? Maybe it's a fetish of his. Who knows? So, that was pretty weird and really funny too. As I came around the corner, he was then driving up and down the white line in the middle of the road. Asking for trouble.......I think so! I was almost expecting to see some crazy headline the next day about a guy run over on a tiny pink bike, complete with basket. But alas, he must have survived the night!
Then Friday was Harry Potter Day, and I was just so giddy all day. I had these random moments at work, where I would just jump and start screaming that it was Harry Potter day, and my kids were like, "What's Harry Potter? What Helen?" Subtext......My teacher is off her rocker! I'm being cared for by a mental patient. Could I have a choice of a sane teacher next time? Ha ha. They wish.
In fact, I think I was so worked up for HP Day, that when it actually came to watching the film, I couldn't take it in. I couldn't relax. I was so tense through the whole thing and I just can't wait to watch it again in a couple of weeks with Cl. Woo Hoo! I have to say though......After 8 films, I finally got my Ron and Hermione kiss. Thank God! And it was pretty good, though of course I would have preferred it if they did it like they did in the book. Oh yeah, Cl, don't read this bit in case I spoil anything. Only kidding, that's it now, that's all I'm gonna say. Except that, it's all over. That's it. Boo Hoo! Well, at least we still have the two installments of Breaking Dawn to look forward to. Ha ha. Freakin' love fantasy! Woo!
I also went to see Priscilla Queen of the Desert with Dr C and Am and it was fab. A huge camp, colourful, every songs a big number, type of show. But it was a lot of fun and it meant I got to see Dr C and Am, three nights in a row. Not sure that was as good for them.....ha ha.
It was quite a busy few days, in terms of doing things, especially as on Saturday me and A went to the cinema to watch Bridesmaids. Ok, so I thought it was just going to be laugh out loud comedy, all the time. Ha ha ha.
But, no. What they don't tell you is how depressive it becomes when everything goes wrong for the lead character and plus her best friend is getting pinched by a complete rich bitch! I took it pretty badly. Again, I blame the funeral which realeased all these stupid feminine emotions, and seemed to plummet me into a dark hole of depression. But really, it was ridiculous. All I was thinking was how hard done by she was, and how I wouldn't blame her if she commited suicide. It would probably have been better than her horrific life. And that's no way to feel during a laugh out loud rom com. Deary me. I think I need to find whatever inner wound is open and oozing, and put a stopper in it, presto! Because I'm getting pretty sick of the old tears. Ridiculous. I think I need putting in a bag of bricks and shaking up. As we say in the Richards family. Ha ha.
Anyhoo, enough of my emotional instability. I had a great night last night, with L, D and T, eating and drinking (a very minimal amount of wine as I felt like poo warmed up) and providing our own audio commentary on The Twilight Saga: Eclipse. He he. It was way better than the actual film.
Comments included:
"My quiff, it's out of control."
And
"Heaven forbid, he should slip in a bit of tongue."
Ha ha. good times.
Well, I'd better get ready for work. Am only half dressed and have to leave in about 16 minutes. Had better give this a quick spell check too.
Happy, manky, grey, undoubtedly wet, Tuesday, to you all!
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Thursday, July 14, 2011
Whirring sounds and arse slapping the night before Harry Potter.
Just a quick one really. I saw the most bizarre thing today, or at least I found it bizarre. Some of you may find it distinctly normal, but then some of you are probably complete weirdos. Ha ha.
Anyhoo, I'm minding my own business, listening to Bats For Lashes on my Ipod and i hear this really weird, sort of whirring sound. At first I ignore it, but then it continues and I think maybe it's my head phones. To be fair, they are buggered. If I have my Ipod out of my back pocket like ususal then every time I walk a step, the sound goes loud, quiet, loud, quiet. Ha ha. I tried slapping my arse, which seems to will it back into action, but walking around slapping your own arse.....hmmmmmm. Weirdo! So now I have to keep it in my bag. But anyway. The sound continued and I honestly thought they were gonna fail me. But as a last ditch effort I thought, I'll take my headphones out and just see if it's a sound happening else where. He he.
I turn to my right and lo and behold, there's a guy with a cordless shaver, shaving his face, on the Piccadilly line platform at Kings Cross. Ha ha. I thought that was genious! Never seen that before.
Oh and I'll finish on a rant.......Bloody parcel force. Got a text message today, to say my parcel was on the way and I thought great because A's working from home today, so fabulous. Of course, I get home from work and there's a card in the post. They never even tried buzzing and so they just left a card even though there was someone in. I'd love to meet the person that couldn't even be bothered to ring the door bell. What a dick!!!!! Just think what would happen at your work in an equivalent situation, if you did your job so half-heartedly. It makes me MAD!
Anyway.....Breathe and calm. I'm off to the Shakespeare tonight with Dr C. Can't wait to see her and meet her new fella, but several hours of Shakespeare after the week I've had....hmmmmmmmmmmm. Will try to stay awake. Matchsticks at the ready. Ha ha.
Woo Hoo, it's one more sleep until Harry Potter Day. Argyh! The sheer excitement of it all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Helen
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Anyhoo, I'm minding my own business, listening to Bats For Lashes on my Ipod and i hear this really weird, sort of whirring sound. At first I ignore it, but then it continues and I think maybe it's my head phones. To be fair, they are buggered. If I have my Ipod out of my back pocket like ususal then every time I walk a step, the sound goes loud, quiet, loud, quiet. Ha ha. I tried slapping my arse, which seems to will it back into action, but walking around slapping your own arse.....hmmmmmm. Weirdo! So now I have to keep it in my bag. But anyway. The sound continued and I honestly thought they were gonna fail me. But as a last ditch effort I thought, I'll take my headphones out and just see if it's a sound happening else where. He he.
I turn to my right and lo and behold, there's a guy with a cordless shaver, shaving his face, on the Piccadilly line platform at Kings Cross. Ha ha. I thought that was genious! Never seen that before.
Oh and I'll finish on a rant.......Bloody parcel force. Got a text message today, to say my parcel was on the way and I thought great because A's working from home today, so fabulous. Of course, I get home from work and there's a card in the post. They never even tried buzzing and so they just left a card even though there was someone in. I'd love to meet the person that couldn't even be bothered to ring the door bell. What a dick!!!!! Just think what would happen at your work in an equivalent situation, if you did your job so half-heartedly. It makes me MAD!
Anyway.....Breathe and calm. I'm off to the Shakespeare tonight with Dr C. Can't wait to see her and meet her new fella, but several hours of Shakespeare after the week I've had....hmmmmmmmmmmm. Will try to stay awake. Matchsticks at the ready. Ha ha.
Woo Hoo, it's one more sleep until Harry Potter Day. Argyh! The sheer excitement of it all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Helen
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Monday, July 11, 2011
And the pathetic bridesmaid award goes to...................
So, the weekend saw the wedding of the century and my third outing as a bridesmaid, though the previous two times were a good twenty years ago. I tell you, it's much more stressful as an adult. As a kid you just turn up, someone dresses you and then you just walk down the aisle and no matter what happens, you're cute and little so the crowd go "Awwwwwwwwww." As an adult, it's a little different. You stress about the tiniest things and feel like you have to know every little detail, as if we're important at all. All people wanna see is the bride looking divine, but still you feel as though all eyes will be on you and if there's the slightest speck of dirt or pluck in your dress, or hair out of place, someone's gonna notice.
In terms of girliness factors, this was a pretty challenging day for me. Wearing a dress (without jeans), having my hair and makeup done and wearing lilac, very tall heels. Ha ha. The things you do for your best friends hey? Ha ha. Only kidding J, I had a blast. Oh my God, I had eyelash inserts, which basically made me look as though I actually had eye lashes. It was incredible. I think they were definitely my favourite bit. But also, my hair looked pretty awesome. Quite a fifties look, which went beautifully with my vintage glasses, but also we had real flowers in our hair too. We did have a few dress issues as in not having enough chest to stop the gapage, but we looked out for each other, with sixty second updates on 'Boob Watch'. "Oh, watch out, I can see your bra." "Your strap is showing." Etc etc.
The transport was phenomenal. We had this old bus dating back to 1912 (I think), which was just genious. It took ages to get anywhere but was just amazing. I think one of the top moments was when a butterfly flew inside the bride's veil. He he. He well didn't wanna come out. But A to the rescue, our honourary bridesmaid, and all was well. The bride's dress was just amazing, ridiculously amazing and I think for about an hour, that's all we could comment on, just how amazing she looked. There were literally no other words. Amazing!
Well, I'd been stressing for about a week as I was singing at the ceremony and I knew it was gonna be a tough one, but I had no idea what an emotional wreck I'd turned into. I swear my Gran's funeral set it off. It opened something up inside me, and I'm not sure how to close it down again. I probably haven't helped myself as I've been home alone most of the week, watching back to back episodes of Grey's Anatomy Season 5. It's terribly addictive but distinctly depressive. So as a run up to my first public singing outing in nearly two years, it probably wasn't the best preparation.
So, we've made it to the room, a little late as the wedding before ours was late, and we're sat listening to the service and it's all fine until J's sister gets up to read. She struggles through and bursts into tears, setting me off. The tension in the air is unbearable. Just tiny emotional bubbles bursting right before me. I need to strap on a pair, but I'm struggling. I always used to be the biggest cynic when it came to weddings. Why do people cry? What's so sad about it all? It's stupid to cry....etc. But I tell you what, when it's someone that you know very well and you love so much........then it's a whole different ball game.
The groom cracked a little on his vows and then J crumbled too and I just lost it. And this was literally a minute before I had to sing. When she announced me to sing, I was already on the verge, on the verge, on the verge. I chomped down on my lip, desperate to get through the song, desperate not to mess up their special day. But of course, J was sat directly in front of me and my mum about two rows behind her. Damn it! So I couldn't focus in front of me, unless I went higher up. And as A pressed play and the music started, I clamped my eyes shut, focing the tears back. Since when did I turn in to some overly emotional female? Urgh!
Well, I forced my way through the song, my legs shaking uncontrollably and for 90% of the time, my eyes were closed. (My old singing teacher, Nazi C would have yelled at me so much! That's the worst performance ever, you had your eyes closed the whole time. Pretty similar comments that she made during my masters.....Bitch!) I literally couldn't look at anyone or anything, otherwise I would've cracked. It's an awful feeling though, when you know you can do so much better, but you're just having an internal crisis. I managed to mostly control my voice, giving enough support to not let it shake as much as my torso and limbs, but there were a couple of flat notes and quivers. But as it got towards the end, I thought, sod it, I'm going for that high note at the end. I'm not gonna chicken out and do the same as the other chorus'. No. I'm Helen, I can sing Katie Bush from the hill tops and I will do this. And do you know what? I did and it was perfect. Just a shame that as soon as I finished singing, I dissolved into tears, sat down and broke down in my chair. And the pathetic bridesmaid award goes to.............Ta da......Me!
I'm sure it could've gone worse. People always say that, but I got through it and I don't think I messed it up too badly, though I did completely embaress myself. I made a pact though, to myself. The next time I sing at a good friends' wedding, I will be in a box, where no one can see me. Or preferably not even in the same room, they can just project in my voice from outside or something. Then it will be fine.
Well, the rest of the day was splendid. And as I had been a bridesmaid, the bridesmaid diet was officially over, and as all I'd eaten was a bacon sandwich at 8.00am, then at 5.30 I was pretty ready for my BBQ. Woo Hoo! Burger, two sausages, garlic pork, minted lamb and salad. Yum! Then Trifle! I pissing love trifle! I was very happy indeed. Then came the speeches and dancing, and of course with J and T having a very similar taste in music to me, it was incredible. I haven't moshed so much in a long time. It was like a Maximes reunion. especially when P turned up. I was so excited! Of course, the lilac shoes were discarded immediately as we arrived at the reception and the moshing began. There were some genious tunes out there. But my highlights included, Killing in the name of!; Poison (mine and J's song); The pretender; For whom the bell tolls; sweet child of mine and Smells like teen spirit. To name but a few. Excellent! And I did manage to lose all the flowers out of my hair and it all fell out, but it was totally worth it.
Do you know what was great? When I got in the car to go back to my parents house and I put my jeans, trainers and t-shirt on, and took the dress off. Ahhhhhh, I felt just like Helen again. Ahhhhhhhh.
Well, I realise the blog kinda just turned into a run down of the wedding, but ah well, it was a great day and two wonderful people are joined together for life. Well done guys, you're way braver than I am. Ha ha. To Dr and Mrs Harvey!!! Here here!!!
Well readers, have an awesome Monday. the sun is shining in Kentish Town and I'm quite thankful to be on a 10-6. Shame we're two members of staff down today. Could be hell day. Eek!
Until the next blog........
Helen
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P.s. Apologies if there are many spelling mistakes, the spell check was not working today. Boo spell check. xx
In terms of girliness factors, this was a pretty challenging day for me. Wearing a dress (without jeans), having my hair and makeup done and wearing lilac, very tall heels. Ha ha. The things you do for your best friends hey? Ha ha. Only kidding J, I had a blast. Oh my God, I had eyelash inserts, which basically made me look as though I actually had eye lashes. It was incredible. I think they were definitely my favourite bit. But also, my hair looked pretty awesome. Quite a fifties look, which went beautifully with my vintage glasses, but also we had real flowers in our hair too. We did have a few dress issues as in not having enough chest to stop the gapage, but we looked out for each other, with sixty second updates on 'Boob Watch'. "Oh, watch out, I can see your bra." "Your strap is showing." Etc etc.
The transport was phenomenal. We had this old bus dating back to 1912 (I think), which was just genious. It took ages to get anywhere but was just amazing. I think one of the top moments was when a butterfly flew inside the bride's veil. He he. He well didn't wanna come out. But A to the rescue, our honourary bridesmaid, and all was well. The bride's dress was just amazing, ridiculously amazing and I think for about an hour, that's all we could comment on, just how amazing she looked. There were literally no other words. Amazing!
Well, I'd been stressing for about a week as I was singing at the ceremony and I knew it was gonna be a tough one, but I had no idea what an emotional wreck I'd turned into. I swear my Gran's funeral set it off. It opened something up inside me, and I'm not sure how to close it down again. I probably haven't helped myself as I've been home alone most of the week, watching back to back episodes of Grey's Anatomy Season 5. It's terribly addictive but distinctly depressive. So as a run up to my first public singing outing in nearly two years, it probably wasn't the best preparation.
So, we've made it to the room, a little late as the wedding before ours was late, and we're sat listening to the service and it's all fine until J's sister gets up to read. She struggles through and bursts into tears, setting me off. The tension in the air is unbearable. Just tiny emotional bubbles bursting right before me. I need to strap on a pair, but I'm struggling. I always used to be the biggest cynic when it came to weddings. Why do people cry? What's so sad about it all? It's stupid to cry....etc. But I tell you what, when it's someone that you know very well and you love so much........then it's a whole different ball game.
The groom cracked a little on his vows and then J crumbled too and I just lost it. And this was literally a minute before I had to sing. When she announced me to sing, I was already on the verge, on the verge, on the verge. I chomped down on my lip, desperate to get through the song, desperate not to mess up their special day. But of course, J was sat directly in front of me and my mum about two rows behind her. Damn it! So I couldn't focus in front of me, unless I went higher up. And as A pressed play and the music started, I clamped my eyes shut, focing the tears back. Since when did I turn in to some overly emotional female? Urgh!
Well, I forced my way through the song, my legs shaking uncontrollably and for 90% of the time, my eyes were closed. (My old singing teacher, Nazi C would have yelled at me so much! That's the worst performance ever, you had your eyes closed the whole time. Pretty similar comments that she made during my masters.....Bitch!) I literally couldn't look at anyone or anything, otherwise I would've cracked. It's an awful feeling though, when you know you can do so much better, but you're just having an internal crisis. I managed to mostly control my voice, giving enough support to not let it shake as much as my torso and limbs, but there were a couple of flat notes and quivers. But as it got towards the end, I thought, sod it, I'm going for that high note at the end. I'm not gonna chicken out and do the same as the other chorus'. No. I'm Helen, I can sing Katie Bush from the hill tops and I will do this. And do you know what? I did and it was perfect. Just a shame that as soon as I finished singing, I dissolved into tears, sat down and broke down in my chair. And the pathetic bridesmaid award goes to.............Ta da......Me!
I'm sure it could've gone worse. People always say that, but I got through it and I don't think I messed it up too badly, though I did completely embaress myself. I made a pact though, to myself. The next time I sing at a good friends' wedding, I will be in a box, where no one can see me. Or preferably not even in the same room, they can just project in my voice from outside or something. Then it will be fine.
Well, the rest of the day was splendid. And as I had been a bridesmaid, the bridesmaid diet was officially over, and as all I'd eaten was a bacon sandwich at 8.00am, then at 5.30 I was pretty ready for my BBQ. Woo Hoo! Burger, two sausages, garlic pork, minted lamb and salad. Yum! Then Trifle! I pissing love trifle! I was very happy indeed. Then came the speeches and dancing, and of course with J and T having a very similar taste in music to me, it was incredible. I haven't moshed so much in a long time. It was like a Maximes reunion. especially when P turned up. I was so excited! Of course, the lilac shoes were discarded immediately as we arrived at the reception and the moshing began. There were some genious tunes out there. But my highlights included, Killing in the name of!; Poison (mine and J's song); The pretender; For whom the bell tolls; sweet child of mine and Smells like teen spirit. To name but a few. Excellent! And I did manage to lose all the flowers out of my hair and it all fell out, but it was totally worth it.
Do you know what was great? When I got in the car to go back to my parents house and I put my jeans, trainers and t-shirt on, and took the dress off. Ahhhhhh, I felt just like Helen again. Ahhhhhhhh.
Well, I realise the blog kinda just turned into a run down of the wedding, but ah well, it was a great day and two wonderful people are joined together for life. Well done guys, you're way braver than I am. Ha ha. To Dr and Mrs Harvey!!! Here here!!!
Well readers, have an awesome Monday. the sun is shining in Kentish Town and I'm quite thankful to be on a 10-6. Shame we're two members of staff down today. Could be hell day. Eek!
Until the next blog........
Helen
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
P.s. Apologies if there are many spelling mistakes, the spell check was not working today. Boo spell check. xx
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Vampires and Ladybirds.
Yesterday:
I managed to narrowly avoid a school party at Kentish Town, charging down the escalator to beat them, only to be met with another one at Kings Cross. They're everywhere. Like ants, invading, irritating. Urgh. Everytime I see those reflective jackets, my body goes into a strange panic. I'm repulsed by the sight of flourescent and probably somewhere deep down, a little jealous. I'm on my way to work, whilst they're on a school trip, all carefree and no responsibilities and.....................I could go on. Anyhoo, they were fairly well behaved and only marginally got in my way, so I guess I can forgive them their youth and general ignorance. *Sigh*
It's so strange though. if they were early years, I wouldn't have a problem, but as soon as I see children over the age of 5, I'm like get out of my way, I'm not paid to deal with you, so therefore you shouldn't be anywhere near me.
Oh, but that's not all. After I narrowly escaped sharing the tube with the mini lollipop ladies and gents (couldn't really liken the vests to anything else really), I crammed myself in against the door. I was practically fondling some woman's ass and on the other side was pressed up against this man so much, that when he bent down to retain his bag, I got a private lapdance. He literally ran his ass all down my side and back up again. Nice.
Now, I am of the English tradition of, give me my personal space, which I know is a useless thing to stand by, when you take the tin of sardines to work every day, but still.........I'd never had myself a private dancer before. Ha ha. Besides, I broke the personal space rule when I tried to get out and ended up scraping that woman's ass. So its all swings and roundabouts really.
But then, on my way home, again I'm shoved in against various tourists and workers, desperate to get home and out of the exaggerated tube heat, when I notce a little ladybird crawling on the ceiling of the carriage. It was one of those yellow ones that you can tell are a little bit evil. But once the movement had attracted me, I found it hard to look away. My eyes traced it's path, but then attracted me to something else. One of the male passangers two people ahead of me had two strange little marks on his neck, two almost bite marks........
Well, you can imagine what's running through my crazy head. A vampire, on the tube, in plain sight. He could probably wipe out this entire carriage without breaking a sweat. Ha ha. Kept me entertained until he got off anyway.
Then all I was left with was the guy that kept moving his hand on the pole. Our fingers touched and I did that immediate, I've been touched by a stranger thing. I yanked my hand away, disgusted, but then forced a smile when he apologised. Why is it that in books, to make contact with a stranger can lead to mystery, intrigue, a look, destiny and many other things. But in reality, it makes you go Ewwww, I don't know that person and he just touched me. Then to make matters worse, just before I was getting off, I accidentally caught his hand again, just to make me squirm all the way out of the tube station.
So, in closing, Vampires do exist, though I think they're in league with the evil ladybirds. And personal space should be respected. i. e. No private dances and no finger touching. Ewwwww.
Happy Brithday Dad.
Happy Wednesday the rest of you.
Helen
xxxxxxx
I managed to narrowly avoid a school party at Kentish Town, charging down the escalator to beat them, only to be met with another one at Kings Cross. They're everywhere. Like ants, invading, irritating. Urgh. Everytime I see those reflective jackets, my body goes into a strange panic. I'm repulsed by the sight of flourescent and probably somewhere deep down, a little jealous. I'm on my way to work, whilst they're on a school trip, all carefree and no responsibilities and.....................I could go on. Anyhoo, they were fairly well behaved and only marginally got in my way, so I guess I can forgive them their youth and general ignorance. *Sigh*
It's so strange though. if they were early years, I wouldn't have a problem, but as soon as I see children over the age of 5, I'm like get out of my way, I'm not paid to deal with you, so therefore you shouldn't be anywhere near me.
Oh, but that's not all. After I narrowly escaped sharing the tube with the mini lollipop ladies and gents (couldn't really liken the vests to anything else really), I crammed myself in against the door. I was practically fondling some woman's ass and on the other side was pressed up against this man so much, that when he bent down to retain his bag, I got a private lapdance. He literally ran his ass all down my side and back up again. Nice.
Now, I am of the English tradition of, give me my personal space, which I know is a useless thing to stand by, when you take the tin of sardines to work every day, but still.........I'd never had myself a private dancer before. Ha ha. Besides, I broke the personal space rule when I tried to get out and ended up scraping that woman's ass. So its all swings and roundabouts really.
But then, on my way home, again I'm shoved in against various tourists and workers, desperate to get home and out of the exaggerated tube heat, when I notce a little ladybird crawling on the ceiling of the carriage. It was one of those yellow ones that you can tell are a little bit evil. But once the movement had attracted me, I found it hard to look away. My eyes traced it's path, but then attracted me to something else. One of the male passangers two people ahead of me had two strange little marks on his neck, two almost bite marks........
Well, you can imagine what's running through my crazy head. A vampire, on the tube, in plain sight. He could probably wipe out this entire carriage without breaking a sweat. Ha ha. Kept me entertained until he got off anyway.
Then all I was left with was the guy that kept moving his hand on the pole. Our fingers touched and I did that immediate, I've been touched by a stranger thing. I yanked my hand away, disgusted, but then forced a smile when he apologised. Why is it that in books, to make contact with a stranger can lead to mystery, intrigue, a look, destiny and many other things. But in reality, it makes you go Ewwww, I don't know that person and he just touched me. Then to make matters worse, just before I was getting off, I accidentally caught his hand again, just to make me squirm all the way out of the tube station.
So, in closing, Vampires do exist, though I think they're in league with the evil ladybirds. And personal space should be respected. i. e. No private dances and no finger touching. Ewwwww.
Happy Brithday Dad.
Happy Wednesday the rest of you.
Helen
xxxxxxx
Monday, July 4, 2011
Skinny, super skinny or painted on? Urrrr, how about neither......
Argh, nearly a week has gone by again, and still only one blog. My humblest apologies. Time seems to be slipping away from me.....literally. Only 5 days left on the bridesmaid diet. Woo Hoo! Not sure if it's worked, but at least I tried. You can't say fairer than that.
Ok, so shopping for jeans. This is the bain of my exsistence. To say I'm particular with my jeans is to say it rains a lot in Manchester. I mean, skinny jeans.......I still don't get them. I doubt I ever will, unless suddenly my legs seriously slim down and I grow about 6 inches. Trust me when I say, my legs and skinny jeans.....not a good combination. So anyway, in most shops your choice is skinny, super skinny and painted on. So of course, I curse the world for having mahoosive thighs and move on to the next shop.
The annoying thing is that I remember when all there were was flared jeans and bootcut and that was lovely. A time when you're ankles were free of constricting material. A time when you could conceal the true size of your legs, beneath an overdose of denim. Ah, those were the days. Granted, I'm talking about 10 years ago when I was in Uni. Ha ha. Since then, it's been the demise of the flares. Oh, until they brought out the skinny flare......argh! See this is also torture for a large thighed woman, because most of the time I couldn't even get a pair on. And they didn't flare much.
So, as I desperately search for the perfect pair of jeans, I come across several in Next. Now I have made friends with Next in the past couple of years, as they do have nice wide legged and flared jeans and normally I can get away with an 8, which makes me smile. But on this occasion, I try on the 10s and they're about 3 inches too big on the waist, fairly snug on the thigh, but that was expected. So then I try the 8. Dear lord, I could barely get them on and fastening the button was torture. So needless to say, I'm obviously a 9, but my thighs are more size 12/14. It's annoying the hell out of me. It's not like I can just saw a bit of thigh off. Though that would be nice. Anyhoo, I should stop ranting about my thigh size. I know Beyonce's happy with hers and gets them out at every availability, but we're not all that gorgeous and confident and rich. Some of us simply want them covered, but not accentuated, just quietly understated would do. That's all I want!
Exhales calmly......
On a happier note, I got a super cute pair of Etnies in the Schuch sale. Yum. They are lush! They have a lovely rounded toe, which is one of my stipulations for a good shoe and they are this beautiful shade of blue, with white stripes and laces. I red heart them! Though, I'm trying them on and thinking, at some point I'm gonna be too old to wear these.....hmmmmm, I wonder when that will be. Well, not now anyway. Ha Ha! I defy the Gods of age as I still get I.D'd and most people think I'm about 8 years younger then I am. So I think I still have a few years of cute Etnies left in me yet. Muhahahahahahahahah.
I was up in Wigan for a Hen Do at the weekend. Eek, I was drunk as Ken and Ken was drunk! (It's a weird Wigan saying for those of you that think who the hell is Ken. We have a whole load of vocabulary and sayings that just ain't heard anywhere else. But I'm managing to disperse them across the country and even into Italy through my fella. Ha ha.) There was far too much wine drunk by myself and presumably others and I fell asleep at me Mum and Dad's in my clothes. I haven't done that in a long while. Uni flashbacks, Uni flashbacks. Ha ha.
Well, the deal is, no alcohol this week, until the wedding on Saturday. Lots of singing practise as I'm singing at the Wedding. Eek, I hope I don't screw it up. Lots of writing as A is away three nights this week. And of course another blog. Two in a week is the plan, let's see if I can manage it this time.
Thanks for reading. It's much appreciated. I'm glad I can provide some mild entertainment with my bitter rants. Have a great week guys......Urgh......Monday.
Helen
xxxxxxxxxx
Ok, so shopping for jeans. This is the bain of my exsistence. To say I'm particular with my jeans is to say it rains a lot in Manchester. I mean, skinny jeans.......I still don't get them. I doubt I ever will, unless suddenly my legs seriously slim down and I grow about 6 inches. Trust me when I say, my legs and skinny jeans.....not a good combination. So anyway, in most shops your choice is skinny, super skinny and painted on. So of course, I curse the world for having mahoosive thighs and move on to the next shop.
The annoying thing is that I remember when all there were was flared jeans and bootcut and that was lovely. A time when you're ankles were free of constricting material. A time when you could conceal the true size of your legs, beneath an overdose of denim. Ah, those were the days. Granted, I'm talking about 10 years ago when I was in Uni. Ha ha. Since then, it's been the demise of the flares. Oh, until they brought out the skinny flare......argh! See this is also torture for a large thighed woman, because most of the time I couldn't even get a pair on. And they didn't flare much.
So, as I desperately search for the perfect pair of jeans, I come across several in Next. Now I have made friends with Next in the past couple of years, as they do have nice wide legged and flared jeans and normally I can get away with an 8, which makes me smile. But on this occasion, I try on the 10s and they're about 3 inches too big on the waist, fairly snug on the thigh, but that was expected. So then I try the 8. Dear lord, I could barely get them on and fastening the button was torture. So needless to say, I'm obviously a 9, but my thighs are more size 12/14. It's annoying the hell out of me. It's not like I can just saw a bit of thigh off. Though that would be nice. Anyhoo, I should stop ranting about my thigh size. I know Beyonce's happy with hers and gets them out at every availability, but we're not all that gorgeous and confident and rich. Some of us simply want them covered, but not accentuated, just quietly understated would do. That's all I want!
Exhales calmly......
On a happier note, I got a super cute pair of Etnies in the Schuch sale. Yum. They are lush! They have a lovely rounded toe, which is one of my stipulations for a good shoe and they are this beautiful shade of blue, with white stripes and laces. I red heart them! Though, I'm trying them on and thinking, at some point I'm gonna be too old to wear these.....hmmmmm, I wonder when that will be. Well, not now anyway. Ha Ha! I defy the Gods of age as I still get I.D'd and most people think I'm about 8 years younger then I am. So I think I still have a few years of cute Etnies left in me yet. Muhahahahahahahahah.
I was up in Wigan for a Hen Do at the weekend. Eek, I was drunk as Ken and Ken was drunk! (It's a weird Wigan saying for those of you that think who the hell is Ken. We have a whole load of vocabulary and sayings that just ain't heard anywhere else. But I'm managing to disperse them across the country and even into Italy through my fella. Ha ha.) There was far too much wine drunk by myself and presumably others and I fell asleep at me Mum and Dad's in my clothes. I haven't done that in a long while. Uni flashbacks, Uni flashbacks. Ha ha.
Well, the deal is, no alcohol this week, until the wedding on Saturday. Lots of singing practise as I'm singing at the Wedding. Eek, I hope I don't screw it up. Lots of writing as A is away three nights this week. And of course another blog. Two in a week is the plan, let's see if I can manage it this time.
Thanks for reading. It's much appreciated. I'm glad I can provide some mild entertainment with my bitter rants. Have a great week guys......Urgh......Monday.
Helen
xxxxxxxxxx
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