I wish I had time to take a photo that showcases these shoes better as they are the most beautiful and comfortable thing I've bought this year. They're tan suede wedge desert boots.
Busy day today. I started a DAFNE course which is all about diabetes and now I have to walk the dog before meeting Mr M to ring in his 21st birthday at midnight (because 2 parties this weekend is apparently not enough). I'd also just walked home before this photo so that is genuine wind-swept hair and british winter cheeks.
My pose remains pretty awkward but at least my face doesn't look so gormless, and I kinda like the cheeky collar pop.
I'm wearing a different outfit tonight, what's the protocol for two outfits in one day?
Scarf - Liberty for Comic Relief
Seriously loving this scarf, buy yours here
Also, Comic Relief T-Shirts here. I got Queenie.
Busyish day today. I went to the gym this morning with Mr Good and then had lunch in a supermarket cafe (his choice). Then home and cleaning out the rabbit shed.
You know, I love America's Next Top Model. Seriously, love it. I've seen every cycle. And every cycle there is at least one girl that gets criticised for 'forgetting her face' - her poses are great, but her face is vacant. Every single cycle I've been like "WTF dude?? Just look at the camera all serious! How hard can it be?"
Seriously, why am I so stupid at taking pictures of myself? Here's my process;
Turn on crappy camera. Put on anti-shake, flash and self-timer mode.
Balance camera precariously on something. Step tentatively back.
Realise camera will definitely fall. Move it to somewhere more solid.
Press shutter button to begin 10 second beeping countdown.
Rush back to the agreed* photograph area.
Arrange body into casual/hopefully non-awkward stance.
Wait for camera to take photo.
Watch flash.
Realise did not do anything with my face in the photo.
Review photo. Be disappointed in my face. BAD FACE
Seriously, man, it's hard.
That aside though.
I bought some new wellington boots from the supermarket, they were only £12.50 and they're really comfy. They're a softer rubber then my old ones, and have more of a Hunter-esque molded foot, as opposed to old-fashioned boot-style wellingtons. I decided to take Darcy for a muddy walk to test them out. I took my camera and got a few pictures of myself enjoying the cold weather.
Waterproof Coat - Marks and Spencers (Similar)
Wellingtons - Asda
I adore these wellies. I had a proper squelch in the mud while Darcy minced around it, not wanting to get her feet wet. I think I might get some pink rhinestones and bedazzle them a bit, just on a couple of the swallows perhaps.
Pretty dubious accessory choice but I always do this so I leave my pockets free.
Lead, worn as belt - Jollyes (always a good selection, this particular number was on sale!)
Ear muffs - Christmas present, so ask Santa ;)
Scarf - $5 from a guy on the street in New York
What do you think? Should I bedazzle my wellies? What do you think of my practical, dog-walking look?
I really need to invest in a better camera, a tripod and a less incredibly awkward body.
Also my face looks unusually aggressive.
I liked my hair today though. I love putting bows on high pony tails, it gives it a real fifties feel.
Quiffs are my fave.
Here's a dreadful quality full length too.
Darcy has had a hair cut today so she feels awkward too. Or at least she looks like she does. Possibly because I can see her eyes properly for the first time in several months.
I was in work today so I had to wear black and white.
Sorry about the fuzziness/bad lighting; I was in the office/stockroom while the photographer was in the toilet/locker room.
I quite like wearing white tights instead of black for work. It really lifts the whole look.
Also I've only realised from seeing these photos how much you can see my bra through this blouse. Cami next time.
Have got my Bumpit in again and my hair half-pulled back. Big on top + Half back = Country and Western Singer to me, for some reason. A colleague said I looked very sixties though so that's nice.
I also wore my Laura Ashley knitted blazer for travelling and these photos in the garden.
Darcy decided chasing was more fun than photos
Windy today, so cold even though the celcius is up.
Fringe needs trimming. A bit too Claudia Winkleman for my liking.
I love this brooch; it makes this jacket look really Austrian.
Just realised I have to leave for the gym in like thirty minutes to make it to my aerobics class. I am so tired :(
Darcy is 1 year old in less than two weeks, which means I've had her for about 10 months. Before I got her I had no motivation, no interest and no enthusiasm for life.
Pigpen didn't want a dog. MR convinced him, saying "We'll just get a medium-sized dog..."
For most people, including Pigpen, "medium-sized" does not mean thirty kilos.
However, we were determined. We drove a five-hour round trip with Miss H in tow to visit the litter at seven weeks and this is what we found.
A crate of nine puppies; three blonde and five black. They all got let out of the crate and Miss H and I sat on the floor while they crawled all over us and licked and nipped us. It was more adorable than a Care Bear hug.
We quickly established that all the blonde ones were the most bitey, the boys were most attention seeking and the three little girls we had to choose from all had incredibly distinct personalities. One was incredibly shy, lurking under a bush away from the rest of the group. Miss H actually asked the breeders if she was the runt and he replied "No, you always get a thinker".
The other two were much less mellow; one spent the entire hour leaping on us and nipping our trousers whereas the last one was somewhere inbetween. She had spent a long time licking our faces and smiling at us, but she had also had a nice wander round, exploring the garden. She also had a little white flash on her chest.
She was gorgeous. We quickly decided she was ours.
We had to wait two weeks until we could pick her up, one week of which would be spent on holiday in Croatia. We collected the newly named Darcy at 9 weeks home and put her in her new crate to take home. She was as adorable and friendly as we had remembered.
Half an hour later, this was not the case.
She had already been sick twice, salivated endlessly all over her body and done the most horrifyingly liquid, yellow poo all over her new purple blanket. The gorgeous, cuddly bundle of fluff we had collected from the farm was now dripping, stinking and barking endlessly.
We got her home and settled into her new home, our conservatory (until she was toilet trained at least). She seemed happy, excited and generally delighted by all the attention we were giving her.
I quickly got into the rhythm of having a puppy. Early mornings and straight outside, getting her innoculated, playing with her and lots of cuddles. She grew quickly and, luckily, we didn't have any problems toilet training her or with her crying at night. She also became quite the cheeky character, always throwing herself into play-bows and wanting her tummy rubbed.
Over the past year we've grown together. Darcy is now nearly fully grown at twenty kilogrammes and loves having puppy fights and chases with other dogs. She has had several hair cuts, one perfect and two embarrassing and she has inspired a friend of mine to get their own 'Doodle. As for me, I have been through tumultuous medication changes, various abrupt changes in life direction and intensive therapy sessions; none so helpful as my daily walks with my faithful, furry companion.
Her favourite snacks are carrot sticks and her best friend is Louie. She makes me laugh every day. Her yawns sound like a really noisy zip and she monitors all of our behaviour constantly by following us around. I mean, there have been the occasional traumas but it's mostly been a joy being a dog owner for the first time.
A year since Darcy was born and I am a completely different person. I wake up every morning excited to see my puppy's stupid face and looking forward to our walk across the hills together. Therapy helped. My Family helped. Pills helped. But without Darcy none of it would have been possible.
... to buy some cat-eye specs, as currently my reading glasses are nice but, you know, normal. Whereas these bad boys....
Hello!
Then I'd get another tattoo. I want one on my arm or on the top of my thigh, which isn't somewhere I had considered before I went to Leeds Festival, when I saw a girl with a biggish, sprawling tatt peeping out from under her shorts which I found pretty cool.
Then I'd go to a spa.
Then I'd take some chums to Paris. Or New York. Or Auckland.
If they behaved themselves I'd bring them back as well.
Then I'd buy an old Land Rover, give BJR the Picasso, and then Darcy and I would go on some adventures.
And I'd probably take some lovely people and dogs camping.
Isn't that all rather sensible?
Actually, I just re-read it and it isn't that sensible. But I wasn't just all "I'd buy some Prada boots that I'd be too frightened to wear outside".
Disclaimer: This is if I had like £5000. Not, you know, Lottery or even scratch card money. Just like a few good runs at the bingo, or something. If I had Lottery money I'd pay off MR & Pigpen's debts and mortgate then buy a farm and live there with lots of adopted greyhounds. Also I'd buy a better graphics tablet.
Darcy and I were up bright and early this morning, and headed out to Warrington town centre to meet up with the lovely staff and regular customers of Lush Warrington to take our dogs for a nice stroll in support of Greyhound Awareness Week.
The money we raised will be going to Northern Greyhound Rescue, who work to rehome greyhounds who have been either retired or retired from the track and need loving individuals to look after them.
It was a gorgeous day for walking and at the end of it there was tea, cakes and goody bags for puppies and people alike. The dogs were all very sweet and well behaved, no grumpy growlers or bawdy barkers.
I have never watched X Factor before. Well, I tell a lie. I saw the one last year when Jedward were Ghostbusters, but I've never watched a series of it. This year is the first year that I've been at such a loose end I have tuned for a few weeks on a run. I now see why I have not done this before.The above psychotic behaviour is after the FIRST WEEK I WATCHED IT. Why was I that involved?? What did it matter at all? Oh dear.
Either way, I watched again tonight (a decision I made before I knew it was eight days long) with my mum and tweeted alongside too from my BlackBerry. It was an incredibly long show (2 and a half hours, near enough) with so many adverts that we also watched Superhuman: World's Smallest on ITV4+1 quality) and didn't miss anything, there were so many ad breaks.
Here is a summary of my thoughts on this week's X Factor.
Reaction to 'Wild Card' announcements and far too excited about Diva Fever.
FYD: Better dancers than singers. Had literally forgotten them after the commercial break directly after their performance. Now, four hours later, I wouldn't even be able to describe any of them to the police if they assaulted me.
Matt: MR and I hated it. What is the appeal of this guy? And who let him put that fucking hat back on??
Rebecca: I was looking forward to her and found myself very underwhelmed. Fantastic dress, but very boring performance. I put 'Good advice, Simon." On twitter but can't remember what he said. No, I can! He told her to get over sad stuff and cheer the balls up. That must be why I added the 'Heroic'.
Storm: Amazed me by looking even more tragic and middle aged than he did already by dying his hair pink and wearing glittery Gaga makeup. His vocals were, you know, but him in general is an awful concept. MR's notes on the performance;
Bel Ami: All I could muster up was and that is still all I have to say.
Cher: Diva Fever: I was momentarily thrown by the hugeness of the hideous suits, but then it all made sense when I realised there was stripping involved. They were entertaining, and had surprisingly good vocals (well, the one of them that actually sang did).
Kati Wastrel: I hate her. I agreed with Louis, the song was too big for her. She made Freddie Mercury come back as a zombie just so he could kill himself again.
Mary: I actually loved her. I liked that the song, the hair, the dress, etc grouped her in with soul divas like Shirley Bassey, as opposed to making her into the new Susan Boyle. Niccolo: Rubbish song choice, Danni Minogue. And poor Niccolo knew it about 10 seconds into his performance which rendered the entire thing really frigging awkward.
1 Direction: High expectations; and they were excellent. They didn't ruin Coldplay.
Wagner: It was really annoying me that Louis kept calling him WAG-NER. I wanted to give ol' Vaggy a little cuddle when he finally said 'IT'S VAG-NER'.
Aidan: Treyc: After my rant on Facebook you would think I would have been amazingly excited, yes? No. All I noticed about her was that she looked really uncomfortable in her dress and her arse looked pretty huge. MR thought she was sat down at one point, which was making her look like she had back, but it was in fact allllll her.
I just looked back over this post to check if I had included everyone. I only counted four names and realised the two I had missed were John and Paije. Ironically, all I had put about John was; Failed to make an impact there, buddy.
Paije: He was amazing, no idea why he was the only one I didn't post about. He was very, very good (not that I can remember his song), but the only distinct thing I remember about his performance was MR saying 'Why are his shoes so massive?? Look at the size of his feet!'
Double throwing off tomorrow. I reckon Niccolo and maybe Wagner or Bel Ami
You know who doesn't deserve to get thrown off any show, ever?
I think I should be in charge. Every time something goes wrong, I always think "I could easily fix that". Like global warming and the NHS. I mean, it was some old Welsh guy who came up with the health service, surely a young English girl can sort it all out.
As my duty to the UK, I have decided to make this blog an advice forum for David Cameron's secretary (Nick Clegg) to steal ideas from. However, this advice needn't apply only to the UK; people world-wide can start campaigns to have these simple concepts introduced to their countries*.
My first issue is fat people. Here is a fat guy:
Fat guys are great. They provide a lot of necessary comic relief and ease people's consciences, eg; "I'm eating this donut, but at least I'm not as fat as that guy.
However, sometimes fat guys ruin all the good they do for modern Britain by conducting themselves innappropriately. In order to help them live better, more productive lives I have compiled this list that I like to call; The List of Things Big Fat Guys Shouldn't Do.
Number 1: Big fat guys should not walk incredibly tiny, skinny dogs.
Number 2: Big fat guys should not drive tiny cars that they seem to fill, and which they certainly outweigh.
Number 3: Big fat guys should not sit in weak, plastic garden furniture.
Number 3 and a half: They should especially not sit in weak, plastic garden furniture with their shirt off, showing off their man bosom.Number 4: Big fat guys should not pretend to exercise.
Number 5: Big fat guys should not wear light t-shirts that are a bit too small, meaning you can see their pit stains and the shelf of fat-guy flesh that hangs down beneath it.
Number 6: Big fat guys should also not wear normal-sized jeans because they fit their arse and legs, but makes their arse crack and fat-guy flesh blossom over the top like a big muffin.
See? Simple!
The only exception to these rules is Jorge Garcia, should he ever visit our gentle shores;
The above psychotic behaviour is after the FIRST WEEK I WATCHED IT. Why was I that involved?? What did it matter at all? Oh dear.
and they were excellent. They didn't ruin Coldplay.
