Screwloose is an indoor cat. When the door opens, she gets excited and runs out to look. I had come back with shopping (see Asda bags), she was waiting the other side of the door. Taken 05/07/2013
On Thursday we went to Birmingham and had a mint day! We ate jelly at a different sushi bar Woktastic and both broke our own record of sushi bowls/plates eaten. I adored the noodle soup, it made me feel better (cos wasn’t feeling crap but didn’t want to let George down) and I used my chopsticks properly not like in the advert where she stabs them in the sushi (note from George – that’s UBER rude, it is symbolic of funeral incense!).
We went to the import sweet shop CyberCandy where we were spoilt for choice, it is a bit like being in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where do you go first? I got some ‘Fairy Eggs’ for myself, and some gum and a yo-yo for my lil sister Hannah, and George got some onion ring flavoured mints and a drink.
George got really EXCITED in Paperchase at Selfridges, buying really pretty Great Britain map wrapping paper that she is transforming into a gorgeous journal, having images that relate to places on the map – an atlas George style.
I would have got some wallpaper but they seemed to have no shoe themed prints unfortunately, and the perfume one had a fake tan mark which made me grin! Part of me thinks it is slightly bigger than the one in Shrewsbury, but it just seemed like there was more paper.
Next we went to Primark or Primarni as I like to call it (don’t we all…) and George showed me all these dresses that I instantly adored but didn’t want to try them on. Changing rooms are annoying, I swear down those mirrors make you look bigger than you are on purpose (just saying). I get paid next week, and i’m going to be running to my nearest Primark (note from George – they HAVE signed the agreement to raise worker’s welfare after the Bangladesh fire – Asda hasn’t) and getting them, they are perfect for this year’s classic sustainable Spring/Summer trend of print and bows and the odd bit of fringing. I don’t get fringing and never will. End of.
Before we went on the tram to Birmingham though, we went to Costa and no we didn’t fall asleep like last time! George kindly got me a grown up Slush Puppy that I later named mosquito blood because of George showing me all the mosquitos bite scars on her arm (note from George – random conversation, not as bad as it sounds! I’m allergic to them!).
I regret not being up for the Rag Market but i know going there when a tad bit skint is like watching your favourite House episode on DVD, then finding out it’s scratched and keeps skipping, so you miss all the mint one liners – NOT GOOD!
Any suggestions for our next outing?
As I may have mentioned (I don’t remember…) I now find myself unemployed. And to go with this most recent stint of unemployment, I am again looking through the Adult Education Services course guide, for something to fill my time. What shall I study this time?
Last week, during half term, I called up about two courses, one for teaching assistant training, and one labelled ‘Preparing To Teach In The Lifelong Learning Sector’. The woman said she would get somebody to call me back on the Monday, but nobody did. So on Tuesday, I phoned them back, and after being sent back and forth, I eventually got to speak to somebody who could help me. However, she was busy, so she said she would phone back.
By the time she did, I was halfway round Asda. I cocked it up completely, both the phonecall and the shopping. I had picked up two of everything, and the woman was not convinced I was sure I wanted to do the course. Despite telling her I was already doing a degree through the OU, she told me I should probably do a degree. Thanks.
I want to do a TESOL (teaching English to people as a second language) course. There is one at the AES, but the intensive course would probably not be allowed by the Jobcentre, as it is more than twelve hours of study a week. Though the course only lasts two months, this would ‘interfere with my ability to find a job’. So that is probably a no – go. They have a less intensive course, but I have no idea what night that is on. Hmph.
Lucy and I met up in Wolves today for the first time since December! We planned to meet at two, but Lucy’s train had signalling problems around Wellington (I say it was probably stolen cables), and I had to go buy some electric (6 pence left on the meter, all the emergency used up), so we were both a few minutes late. We met at Beattie’s clock, which is a clock on an island outside a department store now bought out by House of Fraser.
We went into Costa (I have a points card), and both got lattes YUM and Lucy gave me my birthday present. HOUSE!
We had a bit of rude and lewd conversation, as usual, about nothing in particular, talked about Michael J. Fox, Dick Van Dyke and Lucy’s nan, then we decided to move round the corner for food.
SUBWAY (I have a card)!
Then we went round town, and Lucy was umm-ing and argh-ing over what new handbag to get (not my area).
Back to River Island, to look again at said bags, she gave me a choice. I told her to buy this one –
As you can tell, by the evening we resigned ourselves to the pub. Hog’s Head being pub of choice, a callback to uni days.
And here’s what I drank.
That’s Goldschlager and Red Bull, with a side of Toffee Apple cider.
Then we went to Asda. For mini cheddars and hummus.
That’s my autocorrect, I like to spell it hommous. But hey.
For a few days now, George at Asda have had a sale on. I think it might be something to do with summer. Or the bank holiday, i’m not sure . . .
Anyway, a few days ago, I spied with my little eye, these jeans on the sale rail. Oh, how I love a sale rail. They were £8. All of them. There were pastel purple leopard print, pastel green leopard print, some nasty patterns, some pastel busy busy rose type flower pattern, and white with tiny black hearts on them.
Kinda like these –
Yea. I boughts them. Except, I bought them today, not Saturday, when I first saw them. I had to wait for some Paypal money to transfer over. Here’s the price tag –
Can you see? It says £3. Three pounds! For some skinny jeans!
Now all I need is a top to go with them. That’s always the problem with new styles for me. I don’t have matching clothes. Any ideas?
I came across these jeans whilst doing my rounds on the Daily Mail site, as you do. They are skinny jeans that make you LOOK THINNER! They have this stripe, you see, down the side, which is tapered towards the ankle, and it creates an illusion, making you look thinner! Yay!
Now, I know i’m not fat. Some of my friends still think I am positively THIN. I’m not. I think i’m just normal. But we’ve all got hang ups, lumpy bits blah blah blah PICTURE!
This is Miranda Kerr in her designer pair . . .
And this is some Mail on Sunday woman modelling the George at Asda pair, to be launched soon.
They will be £16, from size 8 up to 24.
I’m still hung up on the two pairs I saw today. White with tiny black hearts printed on, and a pale teal with flower print. They’re £8 each in the sale. I know which i’d rather go for. But then, i’m greedy and need.more clothes.
Lucy and I met up Wednesday. It was pissing it down outside, I was running an hour late due to replying to emails, and I stopped to talk to a friend and go to the Post Office on the way. We agreed to meet in Asda cafe, which turned out to be a good choice, as they had cheap coffee, and it was warm and dry.
Usual chit chat ensued, Uni, work, plans, our Scouse tutor’s wedding plans (and the PowerPoint presentations about them), people we both knew. But then, our conversation took a sinister turn. For me, anyway.
If I hadn’t been so hyped up on coffee, fake Red Bull and tiredness, i’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have done this in such a public place. Especially as there was a family sitting behind us, and I was painfully aware that the daughter was under ten, and facing me, so she could probably hear every word I said. And some of you know I am a massive prude in real life when it comes to my own activities.
We talked about The Sex.
That’s not what I actually call it. I don’t actually call it anything in real life, as I generally don’t talk about it. But we were there, and we were talking about it. Stories from our teenage years, and from Lucy, more recent years. A boy, whom we shall call ‘C’.
C used to live in the same Halls as Lucy, when she lived in Compton. He’d call her up for booty calls after his work as a DJ, to which she entertained him. At the time, this was a great source of amusement for me, as she would come into class late, tired and refusing to divulge to our friend T. When Lucy moved out to different Halls closer to the SAD (School of Art and Design), he still called her, expecting her to travel the three or so miles out of town to his, have some fun, and then be kicked out onto the street. She no longer entertains this boy. I do believe he is the same boy who brought his current ‘call’ to her flat and asked for a pizza. Or something.
All this was fine, and i’d heard it before, until she said that he had said this –
“You’ll like it this time, Luce, i’ve got lube”
Cue the inane cackling of laughter. What a chat up line. Gold star, matey!
Which led onto my story. My story also involves a person called ‘C’. I can’t really divulge too much information as to who C is, as i’m massively embarrassed to have entertained such an idiot in my house. However, I still think those close to me have their suspicions, and may even be able to put one and one together and figure it out.
When I was about . . . 14? I know it was June, it was Shifnal carnival. I was single. Most definitely. We had been drinking, My friend, her boyfriend P; and I don’t remember where C came into it, but he did. To my house we went, and I left my friend downstairs with her boyfriend, as she never really got time alone with any of them unless she was at mine or theirs. Me and C went upstairs to the spare room.
I didn’t plan to do anything with them, but I didn’t want to be in the same room as two people ‘getting it on’. So we went somewhere else that wasn’t MY room. C really was an ugly boy. I didn’t plan to do anything with him, but we ended up getting round to it. Then he asked THAT question –
“Do you want me to put it in you?”
What kind of stupid question is that? NO I BLOODY WELL DON’T! Up to this point, I think I hadn’t had anyone actually DO anything to me like that. Not through lack of trying, but I was the ugly one in my group, and I was shy. In fact, most of the time, it was my friends who set me up with people. In that ‘my friend says she likes you’ kinda way. I do remember on one of my birthdays, we were out on a under 18’s club night, and my friends were going around telling people it was my birthday and sending them my way :S Weirdest night ever, getting off with a gay male friend and a strange girl. She was called Kimberley. Never met her before, never met her again.
I said NO to C. So he goes –
“OK, tell me when you’re done then.”
After a bit, I got bored and pained, said ‘yes’ to being ‘done’, and went downstairs to see if it was safe to go into my living room.
I do remember, the next day a group of us saw him in the street. I ended up kicking him when he was on the floor, literally. I don’t remember why, or what he said. But he’d made me really angry. And nobody could make any sense of my actions.
So that’s the story of my MOST EMBARRASSING EVER story. All told in the middle of Asda cafe. We’re so classy, yes?