i couldn't help but wonder...

so i finally let my hair down at the weekend.

but you see for once, i'm not talking THAT type of hair release, when i say to the girls: "lets go out, i need to let my hair down" (in other words) "we are going OUT. i need to drown my sorrows with the help of whiskey and wine because shit has been hitting the fan ALL week, work has been nothing but soul destroying, my life is verging on meaningless resulting in an addiction to akinator.com and i still act suprised and clap like a demented seal EVERYTIME the genie man gets the correct answer, i've been so unbelievably bored that i have the keys F5,F6,F7 imprinted on my forehead from smashing it relentlessly on the keyboard and i seem to spend my entire life counting down the minutes till lunch at 1pm only to feign excitement over finally getting to eat my soggy homemade cheese and tomato sarnie and a pack of crushed up hula hoops" 6 packs for a quid in iceland if you're interested...

what i mean is, after 3 weeks of wearing the mop in a ballerina bun perched on top of my head from dusk till dawn because i couldn't bare the sight of it in all it's boring, mid length, averagely shite glory since it got hacked away, i decided at long last to wear it down. don't get me wrong, i still can't look in the mirror and face the reality that my boobs no longer have a homegrown brown gilet to keep them warm anymore but in all honesty, i had to give myself a break from the semi essex facelift i was making for myself.


oh and miraculously my headaches have stopped...funny that.

other than this ground breaking news, my weekend with the boy was pretty chilled. a near enough full day of being forced to watch football/sky sports tv which is essentially a really boring busy screen with a monotone speaking OAP who probably played for bromley back in 56' or something, repeating the SAME football news over and over again along with 'breaking news' (really??) rolling beneath him as he jabbers on about the dry teams...basically, the ones that aren't in the top 4.

BORE OFF.

my end of the bargain was much more satisfying. i got to sit cosily with a cuppa in my bubble of all things singing, dancing and generally nauseating for most by watching over the rainbow and glee...oh and some SATC re runs that he didn't mind seeing cos secretly he's learning a thing or two about how us women work/need lots of shoes/clothes/cocktails bought for them. however, i think it's safe to say i've worked out who his favourite character is after his ears pricked up (no pun intended) during this delightful quote from samantha:

"i will wear whatever, and blow whomever i want, as long as i can breathe and kneel"

need i say more?

payday schmayday

for most, payday is their favourite day of the month. you treat yourself to a grande (not tall) starbucks in the morning, a hench lunch because it's the day you can rejoice and not feel guilty about not having to eat your 30th homemade tuna roll, you go down town after work and pick up those shoes you've been oggling online all week and then you're off to paint it red, hitting as many happy hours as poss before you pass out and forget your own name. you wake up the next morning, dragging your sorry hanging arse to mcdonalds to gnaw on a rock hard muffin, you start to hack into the splat of congealed scrambled egg, still not getting used to the fact that the sausage resembles a pattie (because you are basically eating a burger at 10am) which is smothered in sweet sticky syrup from the american-esque pancakes. finally, it's all topped off with a piping hot cup of water that tastes remotely like tea and burns off about 4 layers from the roof of your mouth. just me?

FANTASTIC.

however, my newly imbursed bank account doesn't stay flush for long. cos those couple days after payday is a complete wipe out. i have direct debits and standing orders coming out of my ears, i check my account a week in and i've gone depressingly back to square one.

POOR. BROKE. BRASS.


and as the month flies by, all before i can even sing:

"can you pay my billlls, can you pay my telephone billlls?"

the same scenario plays out like a broken record. (a really annoying catchy one). every month. without fail.

i sit and stare in disbelief at my online banking balance: '1am, £40 cash withdrawl: shoreditch' here, '2am: card payment for a ridiculously expensive round at a pub' there, yet all the while i'm scanning the 'new in' page on asos.com, profusely clicking the 'add to basket' button on jumpsuits, shoe boots and belts. but it's the cheeky tenners that really dent the wallet. the 'fuck it' tenners that are withdrawn on a random tuesday night for a cheap bite to eat and a few bottles of heineken cos it's 2 for 1 on 'beer of the day' at juno. i'm a sucker for a bargain.

but i don't ever learn.

take the weekend just gone for example. i spent a 80 quid in less than 24 hours. 40 going on munch, a couple bottles of rank tesco's own rose for a girls night in and yeh erm...ahem...hmmm. another pair of shoes.... BUT LOOK!


absolute crackers aren't they?

yeeeeahh so...

the other 40 quid might aswell have gone down the bleedin' drain after a shocking haircut. the crazy bitch hacked off about 5 inches of my mane after me telling her specifically i wanted to keep the length. she was clearly deaf aswell as dumb and basically left me feeling naked. and with a face like thunder. i've been wearing up it in a bun ever since and will not be letting it down till it's back giving rapunzel a run for her money.

so payday can get stuffed. for all the joy it brings for the first 5 minutes of friday morning, it only brings sadness and inevitable unstoppable spending. oh... and don't be alarmed the next time you see me, if i'm stumbling round the joint sporting a french crop, wolfing down an egg mcmuffin bought with my last fiver and shouting obscenities at the dick that chopped off my locks...but all in my new heels of course.

my new bff. lol. ttyl.

i am currently coffee'd up to the eyeballs and have basically been asleep (just unfortunately have to have my eyes open) since being back at work on tuesday. i am in utter disbelief that i've sadly had to return to the grind, feeling like we deserve more 4 day weekends right?? not gonna happen though is it? dev.

and lets not stop there. i am also seething at having to return to what can only be described....as hell. being forced to listen to bbc radio 2 ALL DAY EVERY DAY, whose playlist include the crooning warblings of katherine jenkins, a fine mixture of terrible old school michael bolton/simply red/m people album tracks and an incredible amount of cheese infested 80's power ballads played on the hour, every hour. and don't get me started on jeremy vines daily 'takeover' at 12. lets take a look at todays glorious line up:

"Jeremy discusses National Insurance, Lionel Shriver, Darren Day and heckling".

that's entertainment right there.

who the hell is lionel shriver and why is darren day up for discussion...ever??

FML.

so whilst the sun beats down on my back, beckoning me to rinse out my full lunch hour and cruise the kentish town chazza shops then moan to all and sundry about how broke i am only 7 days after payday, let me first introduce you all to my new bff.

we're tight. like 2 peas in a pod. like punch and judy. sooty and sweep....

not that i've ever met him like.


AMAZING.

ok so he has got a slightly irritating face and the bit about the video case was a tad OTT but the rest had me saluting him all the way! if he was even a little good looking, he'd be a man after my own raging heart.

we just love to hate.

april FOOL

i am hungOVER. because i basically thought my long easter weekend started last night. in the boozer.

shucks.

in my defence, i was watching the incredible arsenal game in a pub in finsbury park with a boozy bunch of gooners. i'm a girl so don't worry, i'm not going to harp on with football chat cos quite frankly, i don't know enough about it to do so. although i'm pretty sure i could give jamie redknapp a run for his money in the commentating stakes because he is utter TURD. but anyhoo, i think it was quite obvious to see that we did get ridiculously dicked on in the first half, embarrassingly so but we jumped straight back on the comeback trail with a little help from theo:

"theooooo, theooooo, theooooo"

and a cracking pen from fab fabs. but in all the excitement, jumping up and down, having a three way hug with the boy and our mate ben, my back all of a sudden became drenched in stella as an over hyper lager lout basically dashed a whole pint onto me.

LET'S PLAY SPOT THE DICKHEAD... he's behiiiiiind you!

but i let it go and in true romantic style, the bf gave me his shirt and promised to buy me some chips after the game. SOLD! to the girl with sopping matted hair and beer stained jeans. it's the small things.

so as my hangover proceeds to get worse by the minute, i gladly nominate myself as the april fool for today. was a silly mistake to get wrecked. on a wednesday. a school night. knowing full well i have 4 days and nights of wining and dining to get through somehow. it's ok though, i started the day with a mcdonalds hash brown, a mug of sugar with a couple teaspoons of tea and have already filled my water bottle up 3 times.

"i'm gonna wash that beer right outta my hair"

literally.

have a EGGcellent easter, hope it's spEGGtacular (yes, i am LOLing to myself even if you're not) and eat your body weight in chocolate.

lots of love from me and my mate below; this being the last time you see him cos he is getting munched, annihilated, exterminated.


oopsy.