Sunday, 2 October 2011

...And then there was an omnibus **.

** "...Pertaining to, including, or dealing with numerous objects or items at once..."

Which is precisely what I am doing now, having not written since Monday. A downright shocking attempt at being a regular blogger. However, at least I didn't let it drag into two weeks of silence.

I feel I must begin with the overtly British topic of the weather, since that has been all that has graced various conversations this week. I am aware that we are having lovely weather, and yes I am also aware that yesterday's temperatures make this the hottest autmn on record... but please can we stop talking about it?

I know it's hot.
I don't really like that it's hot.
I want to be wearing boots and scarves please. It was September and now it's October. I want proper autumn clothes please
This morning, I did almost succumb to the heat and consider (albeit briefly) wearing shorts. It meant foraging for them in the depths of drawers and now that our calendar summer is gone, my 'tan' has faded. I say 'tan', really it was a skin shade darker than my natual British glow... or translucence, if I'm being honest.
Rather than display this less than worthy attempt at a summer body, I opted for a simpler (and safer) combination.
I resorted to jeans and a pretty camisole, choosing to save the eyes of the British public. But some did not act with this level of thought or common courtesy. I saw bottom skimming shorts on bottoms that were eating them, and topless men who were sporting larger and considerably more wobbly 'pecs' than some females.
It appears that our judgement of appropriate attire flies out the open window as soon as the sunshine rears its happy yellow face from behind usual English blanket of grey cloud.
I beg you people, please consult a full length mirror before leaving the house... and if in doubt - don't.

Call me harsh, rude, unnecessary, mean, bitchy ... but you will all thank me for the preventative measure since I know (and secretly you do too) that we will never be able to say "Joe/Joanne Bloggs, I don't think you should wear that."  It's so much easier to smile (covering the grimace) and say "Oh I like your shorts."

So aside from bizarre wardrobe choices, what other events must I share with you this week?

- On Tuesday, Reese's Pieces (a staple of the American candy store and delivered with love by Miss USA) saved my life at 3 o'clock. Or choc o'clock as it has become known by the team. It appears our sugar levels drop simultaneously so we pull various assortments of cocoa-based snacks from our secret hiding places (never trust sugar deprived women, even if they are colleagues) and enjoy a brief mid afternoon siesta - without the sleep. Except my chocolate stash was empty and I had forgotten to replenish my stores. Apparently Miss USA has two stashes - her draw and her handbag! Excellent planning.

- It was announced this week by the Transport Minister that they were considering raising the speed limit on UK motorways from 70mph to 80mph.
Phillip Hammond, Transport Secretary, was quoted on the BBC Radio 1 news saying
"...We will be bringing all those drivers who regularly speed back on to the right side of the law..."
May I just say that this is a truly wonderful plan. Rather than fining those drivers who speed we'll just raise the limit to encompass them instead.
I will admit, and not proudly, that there are occassions on the M25 when my speedometer is waggling furiously over the 80 mark. And I slow down again. But if we make the limit 80mph, doesn't this mean we'll probably end up doing 90mph before saying "..Whoopsy! I must slow down"
And surely Mr Hammond (not of Top Gear fame - who I'm sure will have something to say about this new plan), increasing the maximum speed will increase the number of accidents. We aren't used to driving at 90mph and will probably underestimate the thinking time and stopping distance...
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Besides Brian can't drive at 90mph, so I'll be one of those annoying drivers. The ones I hate.

- I also needed a hair cut. Nothing extravagent. Nothing exciting. I realised that it was time to face my hairdresser. There were some serious split ends to sort out and I had to admit that I'd been dying my hair myself.
I would happily say I was quite assertive. I'm quite happy to speak my mind. But when faced with a skilled hairdresser brandishing sharp scissors... You say anything to keep your hair safe. I walked out with a perfectly normal hair cut. And an appointment for colour.
It's fine, I can cancel it later.

- There was a moment this week, when I thought I could move out. And rent. Ha. Fat chance. Turns out that I can't do either. My maths skills and saving aren't too great. I thought they were alright. So that was a bit of a reality check. I set a new goal though -  so I'll be a grown up little girl soon. (Living on baked beans again.) 

- Oh and I don't like Pop Tarts. (Sorry Miss Hendo, I know they came all the way from Vegas)

And here we are... Sunday night.
I'm full up with roast dinner (and a cheeky Wispa), the headache I had is gone, I've done nothing (sometimes that nice)... oh I dyed Mumma Dodd's hair (sorry, I lied) and now? Well I'm sat ready to wait for a bit of Downton Abbey.
Can't wait.

Have a good week everyone - lets fast forward through Monday.