Forgotten Songs

With The Boy out for the night on a Bro-Date, I had a blissful evening to myself. Hurrah! 

And it was after the dishes were done, and I had watched a rather awful program I recorded last night (Breaking Amish on the new TLC channel. For reference it's a pile of bollocks) that I did something I have not done in a very long time. 

I turned off the television, and put on some music. That's right, I am listening to albums, long forgotten in the depths of my iTunes. 

I have 3,347 songs in my iTunes, a modest collection by most standards - but the thing is I very rarely listen to most of them. I don't like to wear headphones when I'm on public transport, mainly because my father raised me to be paranoid and I like to be aware of what is going on around me. 

Too old for Topshop

A recent trip to Oxford Street left me with a sinking feeling.

It all started when I thought to myself - I haven't been into Topshop in ages, I must pop in and see if I can find a pretty spring top. So I enthusiastically walked in and was hit - very suddenly - with the feeling that I was far too old to be in there.

By the top of the escalators were what I can only assume were trendy teens, midriffs and bum cheeks on display, wearing mouse ear headbands and uncomfortable looking shoes.

What I thought was relatively fashionable office wear (navy pleated Ralph Lauren skirt with a tight crisp white blouse showing an appropriate amount of office cleavage), felt frumpy. But I battled through the giggling girls and descended into fashion mecca.

Domestic Bliss Part 4: House Hunting

Recently, the boy and I made the somewhat monumental decision to purchase our first home. A lovely piece of the world that we will own (or rather the bank will) and can start a proper grown up life together of DIY, dinner parties and growing vegetables, perhaps even some chickens.

It turns out that house hunting is possibly the most stressful thing ever.

Before I turn 30: Cocktails at The Rivoli Bar

I have created a list of things that I want to do before I turn 30 later this year. Turning 30 does have that notion that I should now be a grown up, and yet there are still so many frivolous things that I want to do, so me being me, I made a list.

One of the things on my ever-growing list was to go to The Rivoli Bar at The Ritz, so on Friday, The Boy and I got dressed up, and he took me to The Ritz after work for a few celabratory cocktails (his bonus, my promotion)

Domestic Bliss Part 3: Thoughtfulness

This weekend, the boy went to a wedding somewhere down on the coast. I wasn't invited, which I was ok with, as it involved a blissful weekend all to myself.

What was even nicer was that my thoughtful boyfriend brought me home a wedding cupcake. Presenting it to me in paper towel, slightly squished and stating, I know you can't eat the cake (damn you gluten!) but that he thought I'd enjoy the icing.

Hashtag Lucky.