“Hello Trouble”

30 07 2010

was my greeting down the market yesterday. You know when you frequent a place too much when the market traders greet you so affectionately! I love a bargain. Some girls love a bit of Prada, I love walking back to work with blue plastic bag full of bargains! Yesterday I went down there, with no money in my purse – so I couldn’t buy anything. I stopped at one of my favourite stalls to check out a cute little floral dress. I tried it on over the floral dress I was wearing. Miss Laura Ashley herself. It looked hilarious. WAY too much floral, but the dress was very cute…and a bargain. My market trader crept up behind me said – that’s the nicest thing I have seen you try on (another indication that I spend way too much time and money on his stall). Despite erring on creepy, I fell for the line and before I knew it I was borrowing some cash from my friend – and trotted off with yet another bargain in a blue plastic bag.


Great minds think alike

29 07 2010

Last night I went to a work do. I had on my heels but en route to the bar I sheepishly confessed to my colleague how I had my flat shoes hidden in my bag. I am just not hard-core enough to totter home in heels anymore (I am obviously getting on a bit). She laughed at me and opened her bag to reveal an identical set of Birk’s tucked away in her handbag. Seems we were not alone – after our meal out a few of us ladies left at the same time. We all assembled out front and reached into our bags in unison to pull out the ever practical flat shoes – much to the amusement of the smokers.

No use crying

28 07 2010

On Saturday I went through the whole of the tri-nations breakfast with my friends being extra vigilant not to get any form of breakfast down my pristine maxi-dress. I was victorious (unlike my team). I went straight from there onto the train. Still spotless. Then the girl next to me had a cup of tea. She picked up the milk sachet. I tensed. She tensed. We both were thinking the same thing. Please don’t squirt! She pried it open and whoooops, as feared …. Milk all over the maxi dress. She apologised profusely, but I couldn’t be mad (or cry) because I have done it myself, on more than one occasion!


27 07 2010

Not only was I late for work due to leaving my house way behind schedule as a result of trying on about 40 different outfits suffering from a severe case of  sleep deprived indecision, but now I have to go home to a bedroom full of discarded clothes (all of which I wasted time ironing this morning). I gave myself a severe talking to, as I was throwing off my third pair of heels and second pair of leggings.

Soaking in the hot tub

25 07 2010

I went away for the weekend to hang out with some old friends. It was so good to see them! Over dinner we were saying it is such a shame that as you get older you tend to laugh less. You know the kind of laughing where you can’t catch your breath, and you get the giggles hours later just thinking about whatever sparked off the laughter. Anyway after dinner we ended up back at my mate Rach’s house – her parents have a hot tub – which I have never been in. This visit I came prepared and packed my bikini. I even agreed to go into the hot tub under cover of darkness. It was picture perfect. Chilled vino on the side, fairy lights twinkling for atmosphere and two of my best friends for company. Then I tried to get in the tub. Let me just re-it-er-ate it was UNDER THE COVER OF DARKNESS. I step in and go to step down a step, and it was not where I expected it to be, it was a much much lower curved seat – perfect for sitting in, not so perfect for stepping on – in the dark. Needless to say I stacked it. But it was spectacular – up in the air and down with a splash. I then spent the next ten minutes submerged with just my mouth and nose gasping for breath. It seems the laughing until you can’t breathe isn’t so rare after all.

In the spammer

23 07 2010

Occasionally I get a comment stuck in the spam filter on my blog. This week I got one that made me laugh. It was definitely spam, but the spammers have been on a creative writing course, and are trying a new approach. His comment started with HELP! and then went on to say that he was being held hostage by the mafia and was being forced (as torture) to comment on blogs. Brilliant. Obviously interspersed in the plea for help there were spam worthy comments  – which sounded way more torturous than being forced to comment on a blog.  It even ended with a bit of drama.. HELP, they are coming back now…

Pillow Talk

22 07 2010

The only thing procreating in my bed are my pillows.