Pigeon toed

30 06 2010

My friend emailed me yesterday and told me she had just tripped over a bird. Not a fellow commuter, but a pesky pigeon. I am glad I am not the only one who is accident prone, or prone to collisions with pigeons!


In the market for luuuurve

29 06 2010

I was listening to two market traders on Saturday whilst at Borough market. They were shouting “Get your cherries, juicy cherries a punnet for a pound”- finishing off each others sentences at the top of their voices – obviously well rehearsed. There was a lull in the shouting and the man looked at his to his lady friend and said …”Cherry – Oh, Cherry – Oh” , to which she replied “Bayyyybbeeeee”. Aaaarrrr love at the market :)

I’ve still go it.

28 06 2010

Weirdo magnet.

I was on the bus last night glistening with perspiration when A young man got on and tapped me on the shoulder. My money was on the “Do you know if this bus stops here?” question. OH NO. He started off with “I had to get on to tell you that you are gorgeous”. I kid you not. Ordinarily I would have been flattered, but he didn’t even give me a chance to respond with some well thought out quip before then next “line” was delivered. It was hilarious. I could hardly keep up, the lines kept on coming. He asked me if I was in the military (I was wearing a khaki maxi-dress), I glared at him silently. He then said “I do love a jar head”. The best line of the journey was without a doubt his response to me telling him I thought I was a shade too old for him (he was 20)…. “I’m cool with a Sugar Mommy.” I resisted temptation and ran off the bus!

Oh… What’s Occurring?

25 06 2010

Listening to podcast’s during the daily commute really does make the journey much more entertaining. However laughing out loud and having an excessively large smile on your face does make you seem like a bit of a weirdo. I highly recommend it!

!!! Unexpected item in the bagging area !!!

23 06 2010

I am not a big fan of the self-service till – they make me nervous. I lose the ability to read instructions. I fail to identify the matching vegetable from a line up of photos. I always buy an item that requires an authorisation code, and for some reason I can never work out where the bar codes are, or where the change is dispensed. Not to mention the added pressure of a long line of people behind you, all thinking they can scan much quicker than you.

Anyway, this week I popped into the shop with a friend to buy a bottle of wine, and she used the self-service till. One item. How bad could it be? She scanned the wine and then came the beeping alert “DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN BAG?” Choice: YES or NO. It took a few seconds to register the command and to wonder what to press if you don’t have your own bag, but you don’t need one of their’s either. It had been no longer than 2 seconds, when from behind came this voice. “You need to choooooose whether you have your own bag or NOT…“. Her shadow appeared before she did. A substantial shop assistant about 15 years my junior, who preceded to explain, in a loud condescending voice, how to work the self-service till, starting with the question about having your own bag. I got the giggles, but I had to remain composed because I knew she could swipe me into the bagging area with one hand, and I wouldn’t stand a chance. After being reprimanded we choose “NO” trying to hurry the process along. Then because it was wine – there was the beeping sound, and flashing light alerting¬† the scary shop assistant of the need to verify that we were of age. She was truly terrifying and loitered around until we had stumbled through paying and the cash-back options. Never before has self-service been quite so scary, or quite so amusing!

Sunshine = Happiness

23 06 2010

Today is one of those days where singing into your hairbrush is mandatory. Sunshine = Happiness.

Don’t you hate it

22 06 2010

when you sleep on your arm. You go to sleep with two normal arms, and you wake up with one massive, heavy immovable arm. It’s never great to spend your initial waking moments in a massive panic thrashing around the bed flinging a lifeless limb around in an attempt to get the blood moving again.