G.U.T.T.E.D.

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I apologise in advance for the meandering nature of this post, but everything is relevant ...
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Part One

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First, it is important that you know about one of my telly crushes.

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Yes it's a certain Mr Nick Knowles, T.V. presenter and D.I.Y all-rounder .

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I'll happily watch an old episode of "D.I.Y S.O.S" on U.K. Home every day.
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Don't misunderstand me ...

It's not like I watched that episode where he was only wearing a towel 3 times in one day or anything.
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Oh wait.
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Yes I did.
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And it's not like I hope that in each episode he gets to knock out a chimney just so he gets all sweaty and covered in dust, and look a little bit, well, manly.
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Oh wait.
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Yes I do.
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Part Two
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This is Bill Bailey.
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He's a very funny comedian here in the UK.
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Part Three
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Rewind to 4 months ago and a telephone conversation.
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Me : "Hi jelly*bestfriend. It's me, Mrs*Jelly."
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jelly*bestfriend : "Hello Mrs*Jelly"
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(We're quite formal like that)
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Me : "Do you fancy going to see Bill Bailey live in concert in August?"
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jelly*bestfriend : "Yes I do."
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Me : "Righto. I'll get the tickets ordered"
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Part Four
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Rewind to last week
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Me : "Hello jelly*bestfriend. You know we're going to see Bill Bailey next week ...?"
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jelly*bestfriend : "Yes"
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(She's a woman of few words)
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Me : "Well I don't think I'm going to be able to make it for reasons that I shall tell you about, but don't really want to disclose on my blog when I write about it next week"
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jelly*bestfriend : "Oh that's a shame. I'll go with my husband instead"
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Me : "Righto. Hope you both have a lovely time."
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Part Five
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So jelly*bestfriend and her husband went to see Bill Bailey in concert last night.

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Here is a text I got from her during the interval

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So if you need me for the next few days, I'm the one in the corner sobbing quietly.
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Not Quite Twiggy ...

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Regular readers will know that I have ongoing issues with my hair.

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Well today was the day I finally got it cut.

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I went into the salon clutching my "I want to look like this" photos which every hairdresser must hate.

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These were what I wanted:

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This is how it looked in the hairdressers.

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And this is how it looked when I got home.

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I promise to not leave it so long before cuts next time. *
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* Disclaimer : written in case my hairdresser reads this. In all likelihood it will be another six months ...
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I Did It First ...

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I can't help wondering if she reads my blog ...

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Remember back in December?
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And if she does, do you think she's told him about this blog-post?

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Life's Big Questions

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Life is full of difficult questions, but basically, it boils down to two major ones.

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Should we get a dog?

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Or have kids?

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I'm going to say dog ...

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... because they're much easier to give away.

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Every Picture Speaks A Thousand Words ...

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Translation:

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Dear Weather

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Memo to : The Weather

From : Most of the UK

Date : August 2009, 2008, 2007

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It has come to our attention that you appear to have mis-read the last memo.

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It stated :

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Rain, rain, go away

Come again another day

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You seem to have substituted the word "another" for "every"

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Management took a long time constructing this rhyme and for you to misinterpret the meaning is a blatant disregard for our general well-being and vitamin-d intake.

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Please look into this oversight immediately.

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Failure to act upon this memo may result in the ending of the rhyme being changed entirely.

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And not necessarily for the better.

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Hair Today ...

Dear Hair,

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When I was little, you were an interesting shade of, erm, orange.
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Early in our life together, we shared a haircut that was apparently inspired by a bowl.
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My mum tells me it is a "Purdy" cut - all the "rage" back in the day.
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(Personally, I think the hairdresser misheard "Purdy cut" for "pudding cut")
(sorry mum, I know you thought I looked "cute")
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For a dodgy time in my youth, you made me look like a boy.
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We've tried a perm a few times
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Admittedly, there has been the odd ocassion when you have helped me look sultry and siren-like.
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We've tried pretending the sun has streaked you blonde

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The only time you suited me short was when we went for one of those "makeover" photo-shoots.

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But who has the time to do that every day?

So I decided to "grow you out" and I've happily let you do your own thing for the last 3 years.

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Only visiting the hairdressers 3 times in those 3 years.

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I had that blip a while ago when I tried to dye you a shade of auburn, but you rebelled and went purple.

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(So that's orange, blonde and purple we've tried)

I've even had a go on this very blog (here) at seeing what we would look like with various different hairstyles.

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Sadly, the one that suited me the most was a 1970's afro - the complete opposite of you, so no chance of recreating this look for real.

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So. Here's the point of my letter.

I'm getting bored with you.

It's not you, it's me.

(okay, it's you)

The problem, as I see it, is, you just sit there - doing nothing.

I know technically you're dead and everything, but perhaps if you could give me a little kink now and then ...?

I am grateful that you are not showing any signs of going grey.

And despite all the twisting, plaiting and bunching I put you through, you've kept your ends nicely un-split.

But it's getting to the point where we NEED to go to the hairdressers and get you properly styled.

When we do go, could you perhaps pay attention to what the stylist is doing and maybe then stay in that style for longer than 2 hours?

It's not too much to ask - is it?

Because - after all ...

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Love,

The person that lives under you.

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