I don't know how to use our scanner otherwise I would post a few polaroids we took from our wedding day. It was charming, whimsical, effervescent, I'd hope a real crowd pleaser. I'm happy and Chris is happy so ultimately that's what matters most. That and I get to wear Tiffany's for the rest of my life. And we got a juicer as a gift and my husband has found his new calling.
Today I'm dress in head to toe black, turtle necks and black jeans. I think I just needed a break from the light and bright. And tomorrow I'm going to cut my hair.
The temperature in London has dropped hugely with the one plus being it's sunny and the other plus being it's not freezing yet. I think for the month of November I'm going to consume only juice. My detoxing is rubbish because I always cave and drink or eat three steaks in one week but in all seriousness I'm not going to consume any meat for November and try my darndest not to drink any booze. We have a juice and smoothies recipe book and I know that Chris proclamation of "from now on I'm only buying industrial amounts of fruit" means only a liquid diet. The amount of food I ate on Saturday is unreal. Last night we had pizza as a final hurrah but I honestly can't put anything else solid into my mouth. Well I did have left over pizza this afternoon for lunch but my stomach is so far expanded right now it's unreal.
One highly evident advance I've had biologically from marriage is these spots (or acne) I've had on my forehead as completely cleared up. I still get the odd spot on my face but I've never had any creep up on my forehead until about 6 months ago when it was really bad along my hair line and just simply red and irritated. I woke up on the wedding day and mosturised and when I came back into the bathroom to assess the situation, I noticed that it was completely clear. I think that area of the face is linked with stress so it could be that, or just the fear of dying alone maybe, or ultimately I'm now a grown up and had to grow out of it. Or that the British summer is over and my skin is immaculate in the winter. All of these theories are viable but I'm going with the 'til death do us part' stress relief that I hopefully now, won't be alone for the rest of my life, which I had feared for about 9/10ths of my life.
My husband started a new job today that he is really excited about and I just spent about 3 hours on myspace for the first time in two months, lurking out strangers blogs. I'm promising myself tomorrow that I start getting real and committing myself to doing what I want to do with my life, as now I have one less thing to worry about. Spotty foreheads.
Tuesday 28 October 2008
Friday 10 October 2008
sickly sweet
I have the worst heartburn right now. I think it's a physiological reaction to wedding. Last night, I was scrolling through my ipod looking for suitable songs when I got this massive rush of adrenaline and made my stomach a bit upset. It could be largely in part to the fact of schmultz, i.e. we don't want anything schmultzy. Ugh, my stomach just gurgled again. I think I need to clean this entire flat to get rid of this feeling. I could so easily throw up right now.
Tonight is 90s dancing with Pippa, Jonas, I'm sure others are coming along as well. Tomorrow is girls night, which I'm not sure what that entails but it's going to involve champagne and an edited version of London. The very cosmopolitan London, the clean, steely London, with bricks and soft lightening. None of this knife crime, crowded, dirty London. This elegant London is also the same I'm showing my mother when she comes as well. I can't image her boding well with the east end hoodies. However, in my mother's defense, the woman has become a bit hip. When we were home, she was telling me all of this Amy Winehouse gossip and singing along to both her and Katy Perry. Apparently my mother knows all the words to 'I Kissed a Girl' which let me add, has really only started to become popular here (but I still think it's a bit sub-par, and laugh at Chris' version- I Kissed your Mum, not to be confused with my mother's version which is mutually exclusive from Chris').
Tonight is 90s dancing with Pippa, Jonas, I'm sure others are coming along as well. Tomorrow is girls night, which I'm not sure what that entails but it's going to involve champagne and an edited version of London. The very cosmopolitan London, the clean, steely London, with bricks and soft lightening. None of this knife crime, crowded, dirty London. This elegant London is also the same I'm showing my mother when she comes as well. I can't image her boding well with the east end hoodies. However, in my mother's defense, the woman has become a bit hip. When we were home, she was telling me all of this Amy Winehouse gossip and singing along to both her and Katy Perry. Apparently my mother knows all the words to 'I Kissed a Girl' which let me add, has really only started to become popular here (but I still think it's a bit sub-par, and laugh at Chris' version- I Kissed your Mum, not to be confused with my mother's version which is mutually exclusive from Chris').
Tuesday 7 October 2008
cheating sleep
I am such a loser. Few reasons why. One major one being that I've back in London for a week now and have completely screwed up my sleeping schedule. Few reasons for that. When we arrived home last Tuesday, I took a nap and therefore couldn't fall asleep that night. Which lead me to not being able to fall asleep during the subsequent nights (a.k.a all of this week, thank you very much) so now I fall asleep at 3.30am and wake up at 12pm really befuddled, and with lots of hair all around my face. Green tea may also be playing a part in this. I should stop making my green tea taste like a double espresso and should probably stop drinking it after 9pm. Honestly, it's 2.44am and I'm jittery.
And lame. Part b. When I was home, in retaliation for all of my stuff stolen over the years, I stole a few of my sister's books (sorry Emma). With Choke by Palahniuk coming out in cinema I thought I had better read the book before seeing the movie because I can't erase images from my head (not that I can really erase written word, but for me, personally, it's better to read the book then see the film. I've had to abandon books that I've seen the film to first mid read because all I'm seeing are flashing pictures of said film...blah blah blah). Anyway, the temptation of the film and only having 30 pages left of the book lead me to light up my internet crack pipe equivalent (wiki:) and bloody wiki the damn movie. So scrolling through, all is fine, except then reading the character descriptions, giving away the massive revelation. I am so annoyed with myself. I found out the next chapter, when finishing the book at 2.20am this morning, however that's my favourite part of anything, books, movies, philosophy, what have you, where it comes crashing down and you feel so clever for figuring it out. It's extremely vain but enlightening, and also a great feeling of community that you, along with a New York Times Bestseller slew could figure out the symbolism, metaphors, head-scratching hilarity that ensues, not necessarily just in this book and film adaptation but in all. And I'm lame because I spoiled it all by looking on IMDB and wiki.
Further revelations for later, probably tomorrow afternoon. Or today afternoon.
And lame. Part b. When I was home, in retaliation for all of my stuff stolen over the years, I stole a few of my sister's books (sorry Emma). With Choke by Palahniuk coming out in cinema I thought I had better read the book before seeing the movie because I can't erase images from my head (not that I can really erase written word, but for me, personally, it's better to read the book then see the film. I've had to abandon books that I've seen the film to first mid read because all I'm seeing are flashing pictures of said film...blah blah blah). Anyway, the temptation of the film and only having 30 pages left of the book lead me to light up my internet crack pipe equivalent (wiki:) and bloody wiki the damn movie. So scrolling through, all is fine, except then reading the character descriptions, giving away the massive revelation. I am so annoyed with myself. I found out the next chapter, when finishing the book at 2.20am this morning, however that's my favourite part of anything, books, movies, philosophy, what have you, where it comes crashing down and you feel so clever for figuring it out. It's extremely vain but enlightening, and also a great feeling of community that you, along with a New York Times Bestseller slew could figure out the symbolism, metaphors, head-scratching hilarity that ensues, not necessarily just in this book and film adaptation but in all. And I'm lame because I spoiled it all by looking on IMDB and wiki.
Further revelations for later, probably tomorrow afternoon. Or today afternoon.
Thursday 2 October 2008
here comes a low
Cyborg bitch- my new way of describing myself. I can sit in a car and take multiple abuses about my character but someone asks me a valid question and it pushes me over the edge. I lost my nerve today. via email. It's actually rather anti-climatic because I followed the annoyed vent paragraph with an apology for being a turbo bitch however I feel a bit guilty. Sorry Suzy. Blame the jetlag and the 'w' word.
So home. I went, and now have a lapsed jaded perception of the word. I actually have that lost feeling where I don't know which way is up, which again could be attributed to jetlag but it could also be that I'm becoming a bit of a c-u-n-t. At home, I went to visit friends in Toronto which was extremely fun but different. I'm no longer part of that community and not that it's apparent but you can't help but notice the tug.
Feet up I'm thinking about home. And I suppose noticing all those things that were different about it last night made me realise how good it is to be here, and how anal retentive I am. My skewered version now is here. I just wish that my dad hadn't become so sentimental and my mother wouldn't feel so sorry for herself. Maybe what I'm feeling isn't jetlagged but that I'm being yanked in directions that I don't want to go in, but I'm in this car, and even though I am myself, my character isn't there because I can't say anything. Don't mention the word 'schlep' to me either. What a miserable old bint I'm becoming. Or that I slept 7 hours last night, 20 minutes the night before, and 6 hours the night before that. And I can currently hear Chris snoring through the walls.
So home. I went, and now have a lapsed jaded perception of the word. I actually have that lost feeling where I don't know which way is up, which again could be attributed to jetlag but it could also be that I'm becoming a bit of a c-u-n-t. At home, I went to visit friends in Toronto which was extremely fun but different. I'm no longer part of that community and not that it's apparent but you can't help but notice the tug.
Feet up I'm thinking about home. And I suppose noticing all those things that were different about it last night made me realise how good it is to be here, and how anal retentive I am. My skewered version now is here. I just wish that my dad hadn't become so sentimental and my mother wouldn't feel so sorry for herself. Maybe what I'm feeling isn't jetlagged but that I'm being yanked in directions that I don't want to go in, but I'm in this car, and even though I am myself, my character isn't there because I can't say anything. Don't mention the word 'schlep' to me either. What a miserable old bint I'm becoming. Or that I slept 7 hours last night, 20 minutes the night before, and 6 hours the night before that. And I can currently hear Chris snoring through the walls.
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