Monday, 14 November 2011

High Waisted Headiness

Hello and welcome from my new 33 year old view point. I am WAY more mature now which should make life a lot easier from this point forward.

Firstly, I must tell you about my exciting new and mature jeans. I had forgotten the pure and unadulterated joy of a high waist band. I have, for the last 48 hours, been enjoying the extreme comfort of a pair of high waisted, skinny, black, 'proper' (i.e not from a supermarket) jeans. They safely enclose all wobbly tummy fat and leave you with a great feeling of security - my stomach is not about to spill out anywhere and there is nothing moving when I walk. I love that feeling.  These are making me very happy and I intend to live in them from now on.

The jeans are as a result of my exciting birthday shopping trip to Bromley on Saturday. Yes people, my birthday was an overwhelming success. I would go so far as to say it was totally fabulous. It began with hilarious stage whispers from the children and K as they decided how long I should be left to 'rest for a bit longer' in bed and then continued on to the opening of several beautifully wrapped gifts from K, a stunning home made card from Bea, blowing out the candle on my K iced cake, breakfast in bed and some napping until I eventually emerged from bed at 10am to have a bath and get ready for the hairdresser's. My hair took a joyous three and a half hours and was directly followed by a three hour shopping trip in Bromley with my lovely friend who drove us there and back - oddly we only seemed to manage three shops in that time, H&M, Zara and Primark. Miserably I didn't manage to find much I liked so I settled for styling K and bought him some amazing new outfits, myself a top and of course the perfect skinny jeans and then came home in time to put the children to bed and get ready to go out. Another very kind and generous friend then arrived to babysit before K (dressed head to toe in his new outfit and I in mine) took me to a lovely place in Crystal Palace where I ate a huge amount of food and drank cocktails for the first time in ages and we even took a cab there and back. Such decadence. Oh, and the best, most decadent part of the entire day was that whilst I was sitting on my big birthday bottom for hours at the hairdresser's, a wonderfully thorough cleaner was tearing through the house tidying and cleaning it. She even did the inside of my microwave! Can you now see why it was the best birthday ever? I can feel your birthday envy from here.

I don't know about the man, but money definitely maketh the marriage. I am not sure why the millionaire Beatles told us that all you need is love because that is a pile of poo. Love without money is like putting a seed on a concrete slab and hoping it grows. Call me materialistic (I am) but even the most basic of lives needs money to sustain it. My first birthday with disposable income has made me feel incredibly happy, lucky, loved and spoilt and as a result, a hell of a lot nicer, both to K and to the children. Yes, K could have spent many hours learning to crochet and then made me a hat with his new found skill, or, like he did last year, recycle a large photo frame with very stinky magnet paint to produce a new magnet board for my kitchen but actually, nothing says I love you like giving you a wad of cash to spend, lots of pretty pink presents, having your hair done and a cleaner cleaning your house. Plus, one of his gifts has made me ever so slightly cooler - it was the Florence and the Machines CD and it contains the best song ever - Shake it Out. It is highly unlike me (as some of you already know) to like music that isn't from a soundtrack or playing in the background to a very sad scene from Grey's Anatomy, but I am totally in love with Florence and her machines. The whole album is amazing and even G has grown to love Shake it Out played very loudly in the kitchen. As a direct result of K spending money I am happier and possibly a bit cooler - now isn't that better than a crocheted hat which would have just made me hot and messed up my hair?

Oh, I must also mention Friday's lovely birthday celebrations with my friends which was, as expected, perfect. A very kind friend let us descend on her house for lunch and I was presented with a cake, candles, cava and cards. And smoked salmon and toasted panini but they don't begin with c. They also very kindly gave me a gift voucher for the beautician's at the end of my road. I am overwhelmed with the possibilities of exciting treatments now at my disposal. It was seriously the best birthday I've had in an incredibly long time - potentially since my 21st birthday party. Or when Dad was alive and used to give us a lovely fat cheque on our birthday. They were great days.

Anyway, I am still recovering from the lack of sleep on Saturday and the drinks on Friday night (I forgot to mention them) so I need to get going and get some more sleep to try and catch up. After all I am not as young as I used to be. Although I will now be enjoying my sleep an awful lot more as a 33 year old as I shall be enjoying it in my new comfy pyjamas after bathing in my new bubble bath and reading my new book. Oh, and I still have the excitement of my new iphone and ipad arriving this week. These are incredibly heady times. I may faint with all the excitement. 

Shake it Out, Shake it Out, Shake it Out, it's alwasy darkest before the dawn, etc etc etc (Just be grateful you're not K - I have been singing this non stop)

I shall catch you on the flip side. Laters. Innit. (I am a bit cool)

1 comment:

  1. I have been informed that there is only one machine. Not multiple machines. I blame my new found maturity which has clearly gone too far and propelled me into the sad mum stage where I mis-pronounce names as I desperately try to prove my youth and coolness. I don't care. I shall just shake it out.