"I think it's called yogging"

She is yogging hard.

The title of this post if taken from the legendary film that is course 'Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy' and I was reminded of it today at 6.00am when I embarked on my first run of the summer...apart from it isn't the summer yet. This was the first of many problems I had with this run.

It was cold. It was windy. I looked horrendous. Oh. And the most obvious, did I mention I am an awful runner or 'yogger'?

I am attempting to get back into running after a long, cold winter off but my god does it hurt. It hurt like hell. I am damn proud of myself for sticking with the ruddy though, as I was desperate to crawl back into my bed and schnuggle down, dreaming of muffins.

But, because I try and conform to the "flat washboard stomach and toned thighs" look in a bikini (pretty tough going when you're a bakers daughter let me tell you) I will grit my teeth and struggle through it. It's my own fault you would think as somebody with severe shortsightedness would just think "hell I cant see anyone so I'm fine pigging out and slumming with my pot belly". But no, I am your typical beach flapper:

" ok breathe in...breathe...is she looking at me...why is she looking...breathe...she is looking as well...SHIT! you bent down and now its all ruined...stay composed though...and again...breathe in".

Pretty pathetic seeing it in words up there. Maybe this year I should just get on and relax with a big ol' bucket of fried chicken on my belly whilst catching some rays with my perscription sunglasses and  get on with it.

How happy do they look?!

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Bread Winner or Bread Maker?

Right let’s just get this over and done with before I start: yes I have nice baps, no I won’t touch your baguette and yes I am a master-baker. Finished. 

At the moment as you are most probably aware I am a university student, I like to think I try hard and I’m working pretty well so hopefully I’ll come out with a decent grade. Because, I want to finish university get myself a tidy little job with a bulging cheque so I can tell the (excuse the language) bastards at student finance to leave me alone. 

My friend the other day was asking me how I would feel if I finished uni and yes got myself a nice job but wasn’t the breadwinner in my relationship, a role which I am now calling the bread maker, which aptly fits in with my bakery background and heritage (how neat). And honestly, I don't think I would mind, which I don't know is a good or bad thing. I am not for one minute saying that I will not work hard and will ride of the backs of others but if someone (namely my economics buff of a boyfriend) brings home the ‘dollar’, would I resent them?

Also, this debate has been prompted by my recent love of making cakes (how cute are all these?!):

                                                 (actual cupcakes. how?!)

Should you strive to be the bread winner or be content as the bread maker?

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Coming Home.

Nawww how cute does that sound?
It's going to be short and sweet today(biscuits are calling)..
I have come home for the weekend and am having the nicest of times (nicest being the key word). Home is so comforting and yeah, nice: it is nice having heating, it is nice having food all the time, and good food at that, it is nice having puppies here, it is so nice that I can't say nice enough. As words go 'nice' sounds a little dull or drab in comparison to 'awesome' or 'spectaculer' but for right now, right this moment, nice is the perfect description.

As great as every other place may be it is not my home.
It's nice to be back.

I have just this moment been given this adorable litle trinket- I LOVE home!

Home Sweet Home was never more apt.
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Sun, sun, sun must equal fun. Surely?

England is getting hotter. Right now, you can forget the likes of Australia, Thailand even Spain, because we here in England we have all sun. Right now the sun is ours. It’s currently so hot I must dig out my shorts, my ballet pumps that don't have a sole but are an adorable summery colour and a complimentary summery shade of a cardigan. Maybe even a floral scarf? Am I overdoing it? Am I?

Yes. Yes I am just like every other Brit who sees the sun and goes nuts for it.

Today I have seen so many admittedly gorgeous pictures of summery shots with shorts, flip flops and ray-ban glasses (never all at once though, because that is overdoing it, obviously). My friend is sat here beside me with the sun glowing through the window with a book, all very picturesque, I shouldn't be such a cynic but I am sure this book is just an excuse for him to pose in the sun.. (pretty weak comment there but he wanted a mention). I'm very nearly convinced that it is summer out there. That is, until I stepped outside and was not so warmly greeted by the chilly wind that refuses to lift and leave use in peace.  Yes there is a warm, hazy glow that wasn’t there before but summer? We are being deceived. Unfortunately.

This got me thinking, even if it were the glorious summer that I am expecting in June and no earlier, how much fun will I actually have in it? I normally just get a little clammy in it and am the unfortunate owner of a irregular natural tan, that is to say when I am fortunate enough to lay and soak up the sun my body goes a blissfully colour while my face lags behind and stays a ghostly shade of pale, so I never really benefit from the darned thing anyway. Then again this is an incredibly grim thought I am having, I DO like the sun, I do. I cant think right now why I am having to convince myself that I do but I am sure that I must love it. 

I love it abroad anyway: give me a bikini and a cocktail umbrella any day. 

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I should be working...

Right now, right this minute, right this very second actually I should definitely, one hundred percent be working. I should be researching, reading or searching for more work that I could do later on. I should be at the library, I should have my head buried in old books and turning my nose up at that old book smell that always reminds me of the elderly women who served me jelly at primary school when I was younger.. (the general elderly smell- at first smells fine and then instantly ages and puts dust up your nostrils). Why do we all do this though, procrastinating is why this country is on its knees, well it’s definitely the reason why I am. I do not need to look at who’s doing what or who on Facebook every five minutes or so but I will. I don't need to look at ASOS’s sale again just to browse through their sale bikinis and then decide I'm actually better off without one, but I will. And I definitely don't need to be writing this, I have a dissertation, a essay and a performance and all the rehearsals to go along with it but I will continue to waste my time twiddling my fingers, or playing with my hair and spending far too long on the ruddy internet..

But still, speak to you all tomorrow!

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"a trim is not good enough"

Today I went for a trim. A nice, easy simple trim. But apparently now a trim is now not good enough, no I will rephrase that, a trim is now apparently, and I quote; "boring". Now that is the the best way to get my money off me, yes look disgusted at my choice of hair cut and then scorn me for being so dull. That is the way to make me feel good. A confident boosting haircut I have ahead of me.. To add insult to injury, I went with a dear, dear friend who is currently sporting a very sexy, short pixie hair cut, very "on trend" and apparently a lot better than mine, proved by the five minutes attention the hairdresser paid me compared to the forty five minutes he spent on her. My hair got snipped whilst he scowled, hers got admired and adored by both her hairdresser and mine.

The end result is that even wih my thirty percent discount I left feeling frumpy, dull and a little bit cheated. But, I will not be ashamed of my choice of a trim! A trim is practical, a trim is needed and surely trims are the one haircut that is always in fashion.

Good on you trim.
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#hashtagshavetakenoff

#epicfail

#wasted

#meandthegirlsareonit

#youarenotontwitter

I have had my Twitter account for nearly a year now and I love it, an easy site where I can speak my mind, stalk celebrities and catch Cheryl Cole having an argument. Brilliant. It also doubles up onto my Facebook account so no need to updated my status. I am the sort of person who will try and write a fairly humorous status, I don't know if it's particularly successful but it suits me better than declaring how much I apparently love someone or how somebody else has seriously pissed me off. Now, as my Twitter feed is on my Facebook feed I have hash tags all over the place: "Who knew drama involved so much reading? #ijustwanttobeatree" for example. But now I am seeing hash tags everywhere. from everyone, it may be petty but hash tags are used on Twitter, not any old person can take them. Soon I'll be getting texts with them in: "fancy coffee? #longday".

I have a friend who now speaks in hash tags like so: "Alice you coming tonight? Hash tag its gonna be pretty messy l o l"
It's horrible!
I am a big supporter of speaking properly so my response to this just consisted of a repetative "excuse me". Now I am not sure if writing this makes me a hypocrite as I use a hash tag but I would like to defend myself by saying I use them in the right context.

So, as our vocabulary gets shorter and our communication dwindles I guess I will:

C U L8R #endofpost

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