i’m moving into a little place of my own on saturday and so i started to pack my things today (late in the day i know). so far, i’ve cleared out one of my wardrobes and this is what is has amounted to:-

• 2 bags for ebay
• 4 bags for charity
• 5 bags for rubbish collection
• 5 suitcases to take with me and 2 holdalls

my question is - how can i never find anything to wear? you know damn well that the second i throw out some clothes, i’ll be wondering what i did with them and thinking that they’d be perfect to wear today. more to the point, how did it all fit in one wardrobe to begin with? on a brighter note - a whole bedroom as a walk-in wardrobe - come to mamma!

chippy chirpy thursday guys! m x

p.s. if you had to choose between an apple tv or an ipod hi-fi, which would you choose? or is it more a case of both??? hmmmn ponder and get back to me!

ok, so i have an admission to make. i have a stereotype of the kind of person that would drive a toyota prius hybrid. it’s wrong i know, but i automatically imagine an earth mother, wanting to save her planet - after all it is a damn ugly car. it was no surprise therefore when i passed one on the dual carriage way on the way home and found a fragile old lady behind the wheel.

fragile old lady my socks!

whilst pulled up at lights, the little old lady pulls up to me in her ugly car and stares straight at me. that’s what caught my attention as i could feel someone’s eyes in the side of my head (almost literally i swear). before you know it, the lights have changed, the granny’s revving her engine and speeds away. i had absolutely no way of keeping up with her.

as if that wasn’t a bitter enough pill to swallow, she felt the need to do a middle finger salute to me. she must have been at least 80. what kind of 80 year old lady tears you up at the lights and does a middle finger salute to you, in a hybrid nonetheless. the kind of old lady i want to be that’s for sure
poor little bugsy’s had it’s ego dented a little though, so we’re going to have to go and find a 3 wheeler to burn off at the lights, just to make it feel better! (i know, car’s don’t really have personalities - honest )

i suffered the worst ever flight back from new york - i’m still traumatised, i swear. firstly it was a night flight - so i had convinced myself that i would sleep the whole way back and wake up back in england. if only that were the case.

instead i had 300lb fat bob in front of me with the beefiest head in the world with dry patches. i know that’s not a nice thing to say and definitely not politically correct - but seriously, he put his chair back as far as it would go and it practically touched my nose.

not only did this mean i couldn’t put my table down, thus no surface for my mac without burning my lap it meant i had practically a 5cm space for the whole of 7 hours as my chair wouldn’t budge at all.

never mind i thought, at least i had a nice young girl sat next to me and not a stinking old guy. turns out the nice young girl was a stinking old guy in disguise who turned out had the snore of a lion and the dribble of a snail!

i think it’s fair to say i’ve never loved my bed more. i’m still waiting for the day BA sends me my gold card - i’m assuming it’s lost in the post!

i was reading this new blog the other day and it reminded me of a camping disaster that happened last summer! so whilst i haven’t finished telling you about my new york traumas, i feel forced to tell you the story whilst i remember.

everyone knows that one of the joys of camping is that you get to drink in the great outdoors and don’t have to worry about having to get home - genius. anyone who’s been camping will also be able to tell you though, that this causes havoc in the middle of the night when you’re desperate to pee and the toilet blocks are miles away.

well last summer, on a bank holiday weekend, all had been well and i had consumed a few alchoholic beverages with friends when i woke in the middle of the night dying to pee. not convinced that i could hold it all of the way to the toilet block (why am i telling you this again?), i decided to move a fair distance from the tent and pee as nature intended. gross looking back - but you can’t say you’ve never done it!

that alone would be traumatic enough, let me tell you. or that was at least until a bright light started making it’s way towards me. as i looked up, i could see a group of happy party goers unloading from a caravan all laden with torches - which for some odd reason seemed to be making their way to me. within seconds, and i mean seconds, the torches were on me and they were squealing like kids. the only thing i remember hearing is “oh be fair, the poor things staying in a tent” - the humilation you’d think would be enough to put you off of finishing your duties, but oh no, mid-flow, there was nothing that i could do other than wave as they stood there with their torch light on me until i had finished.

as you can probably imagine, i’m hoping the site will give me an insite on how to camp with more dignity - although whether i’m beyond helping only remains to be seen!