The One Where I Turn Twenty-Seven gaaaaaaahhh

It's been a long time Chinas, a long old time. I've been too busy to blog, what with turning 27 and all. The English graduate in me is desperate to turn that 27 into a twenty-seven but time is pressing on us, Old Beans, and I'm not writing twenty-seven every time, so I'll just leave it as 27.

So I woke up on the eve of my 27th birthday and was all 'oh man, this sucks. My last day as a 26 year old OR, as I pronounce it, 'nineteen'. Woe is me, for it is rubbish to be nearly 27, probably as bad as actually BEING 27.' And then to celebrate my last day as a 26 year old, I did some lovely things like not running and eating Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie and Port Salut on oatcakes with chutney and WINE and it was good.

And then I woke up on my 27th birthday and I thought 'HOW CAN I BE TWENTY-FECKING-SEVEN?! I'm still deciding what to do when I leave school! I'm still always thinking 'I'll wear shoes like THAT when I'm a grown up'! I'm still going to the shop regularly to buy pick n mixes! I hate mortgages! But the truth of it is Chinas, I'm a 27 year-old married Librarian with a mortgage and a job and everything. And I'm no longer nineteen, and I can no longer dream of being an astronaut, and I can no longer drink with wild abandon because hangovers now last about a fortnight.

But then I had a flash of inspiration. 'Why not, WHY NOT', I thought to myself  'see this as a chance to do everything you've ever wanted to do and BE everything you've ever wanted TO BE? Why not make your 28th year (gaaaaaahh) the YEAR OF OPPERCHANCITY?

So I'm going to! I've made a list of resolutions that I'm going to share with you, but FIRST! A picture of me with my present from my brother (Calpol):

OH YES LADS THAT'S ME WITH BETTY! Is that the best present anyone has ever given anyone?! Answer: yes. I love her with my whole soul and Husband HATES her, although she freaks out the cats which Husband finds very funny. I said we should bow every time we walk past her and Husband refused, and that's very disrespectful to her Maj and she'll be WELL annoyed if he ever does that in real life. He'll be in the Tower before he knows WHERE he is, and I won't visit him because I'll be having crumpets at Buck Pal.

Anyway, RESOLUTIONS:

1. START SELLING 'CRAP WHAT I'VE MADE', because I've been talking about doing it for ages but then what if nobody buys it?

2. GET GOOD AT RUNNING - I can now run my full circuit without stopping, here's a picture of me after I did it for the first time ever:

(I promise this is really me and not Usain Bolt, however similar we may look)

3. STOP READING HEAT MAGAZINE AND TRY TO STOP CARING ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IN TOWIE - pretty self-explanatory, this one.

4. HAVE A KEBAB - never had one before and I think I would like it.

5. TRY A DEEP-FRIED MARS BAR - never had one before because I know I would love it, and eat them FOREVAH and then turn into one of those people who gets so fat that they grow into their couch.

6. WEAR ALL THE SHOES - or sell all the shoes if not worn.

7. PICK UP A MASSIVE SPIDER - maybe.

8. BE A BIT MORE SENSIBLE - I'm not really a sensible sort of person. I'm more of a 'LET'S MAKE A LOL-CANO!' than a 'Yars, well, interest rates being what they are...' and I think I should maybe try to get somewhere in the middle.

9. TAKE MY MAKE-UP OFF BEFORE BED - I know this is really jakey (JAKE - Scottish word meaning unclean, dirty person who is usually drunk and/or stoned) but I hate washing my face in the sink, and I'm not having two showers a day, and my make-up removing pads live downstairs and I can never be bothered to go down and get them and I just generally am rubbish at taking my make-up off and that's that.

10. DYE MY HAIR BLONDE - DONE! Did it last week! Not sure if I like it though.

11. TRY TO LOVE MY EYEBROWS - very unlikely, this one, but I will try.


And that's THAT!

The Unlucky PJs

Hello. I have a grave topic to share with you today, Chinas. The Curse of the Unlucky PJs. Here they are: *WARNING! DON'T LOOK AT THEM IF YOU ARE WORRIED ABOUT BAD LUCK*

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking 'those don't look so bad!'. They are, my friends. THEY ARE. Here's a list of bad things that have happened whilst they have been adorning my person:

1. I wore them when I stayed over at my friend's house. My friend then moved to Singapore.

2. I was wearing them whilst skipping down the stairs in Bumbaleerie Mansions and I tripped over the stupid cat and broke my neck. Nearly.

3. Every time I wear them I spill wine on them. And let me tell you, no matter NO MATTER how hard you suck, you CANNOT get all the wine back out of them.

4. When I bought them, Husband and I got into a HUGE fight on the way home from the shops over how much I'd spent. Coincidence?

5. I was wearing them when I realised the tadpoles had been eaten.

There's more, but the above have probably shocked you too much for me to continue so I won't. But I trust you are suitably convinced that these PJs are unlucky.

But I'm trying to break their unluckiness. I'm away from the Bumbaleerie crib at the mo so I decided to bring them with me. I phoned Husband.

Me: Husband it's me.
Husband: Hello, light of my life! What are you...
Me: Let's forgo the Oxbridge pleasantries. I'm phoning with important information regarding the unlucky PJs. Do you think I should pack them and try to break the unluckiness? Or play it safe and wear some luckier peejoojes?
Husband: Well, I don't believe in Unlucky PJs so....
Me: That's ridiculous reasoning. I don't believe in Evil Mexican Vampire Goats, but we know THEY exist.
Husband: *silenced by this completely valid point, no matter what he says later*
Me: Yes. So should I take them? Or be safe?
Husband: You decide. Listen, I really do have to go back to work now.
Me: *huffy now* O-KAY-UH! I was just CHECKING-UH

So I've brought them. But I'm maybe cheating a bit, cos I've got another pair of pajayjays that I might wear if I decide that unluckiness is not something you can break. But I'm trying to be brave, so I might wear them. But then again, I might not.

IN OTHER NEWS: I've started making a new dress, YAAAS. I went to the Canary Islands and now my skin is peeling off. I lost four and a half pounds on holiday, and I don't know where it went (four and a half pounds in weight, not in Scottish Yen) and Husband lost three. How? Dunno. I have taught the unfriendly cat how to say please (FACT). I can now run almost my whole running route (just under four miles) without stopping. I found a lovely nail varnish topcoat that costs less than a pound (Scottish Deutsche Mark, not weight) and it makes nail varnish last for ONE HUNDRED YEARS. AND the Bumbaleerie Sweetpeas are BLOOMING!

A Well-Spent Jubilee Weekend

The Jubilee weekend has been lovely, and I've used my time very, very wisely (<---- not true). I finally bit the bullet and got a proper pair of running shoes and took them for a spin tonight - they worked well, but so they should for the money I spent on them. It is soul destroying having to buy shoes you don't even like when you could have spent them money on shoes you would really, really have liked...BUT no more shin-splints, so that's a good thing. Have you ever bought running shoes? It's mortifying, they make you go on a treadmill to 'try them out' (WRONG, it's so they can laugh at you) although the nice man serving me didn't ask me to do that, I think because of the mournful look I gave the treadmill when he pointed at it. Or maybe it was because I shook my fist at it, I dunno. Either way, I came out with a horrible shiny pair of stupid-face running shoes and no more leg cramps.

I got another very exciting bundle through in the post: CRUSHED WALNUT SHELLS to make pin cushions AND they sharpen your pins too! Isn't that cool?

ANSWER: No actually, not cool at all. The stupid crushed stupid walnut shells went EVERYWHERE, and it turns out you need a LOT of walnut shells to fill a bird-shaped pin cushions AND it's really difficult to get it so stuffed that it feels nice so MINE feels like a half-empty bean bag. Not happy, not happy one little bit. Very furious actually, because I had to hoover my sewing room and I hate hoovering. But then I did something nice:

It's the first of my vintage pinnies, after my dressmaking lesson from Len. The binding should actually be lace but lace is a whole lot of trouble, and I said to Husband, Sister, Len, Roy, the big cat, the stupid cat, myself and the lady in the co-op: Why make it hard for yourself? And they all agreed, stick with the binding. So I did. I was in two minds whether or not to tidy up a bit before I took this picture, but then I thought nah, it looks rustic, plus it's very bohemian to be a total mink. I still have to gather the top (of the apron) and put the band on, and do the ties BUT it's nearly there. It's lovely to make aprons, I would highly recommend it. Today I also dug my front garden and planted loads of Hydrangeas (I think my new favourite flower) and Lavender (I think my new favourite smell) and I am pleased with the finished product:

 It'll look just peachy when they all grow a bit. I've also got a heap of sweet peas growing up one end of the garden but my neighbour was outside and I didn't want him thinking I was taking pictures of him (or, now that I think about it, my garden. It's a bit strange to take pictures of your garden isn't it?) This was not a relaxing afternoon's work by the way. First, the garden was absolutely COATED in weeds. Imagine all the weeds you've ever seen in your whole life. Now imagine that they are heading to the Jubilee celebrations in London with ninety-million of their closest friends. Now times that by eight-four, and THAT'S how bad my garden was. Phew, that's hard maths isn't it? I should have just taken a before picture. Never mind.

Second in the not-relaxing list:  I had to keep bending over....and I was wearing a tunic and leggings....and two wee boys passed sniggering....and I'm CERTAIN they were laughing at my bumbaleerie. That thought haunted me all afternoon.

Third: I hate spiders. I hate them with the fire of a thousand splendid suns. And they know it. Every time I venture outside they prick up their ears (?), gather a lynch mob and scuttle out going 'GET HER, GET THE CURLY ONE, GET HER!'and I have to run away shrieking.

But today, I have a message for them.

GOOD LUCK GETTING ME NOW STUPID-FACE SPIDERS, COZ ONE HAS NEW RUNNING SNEAKS!