Im sat in my work room with the poochmeister.
Its 11am (diet coke break) but I'll probably publish this tonight.
Belle went back to school today with a skip in here step but with a blow to my heart.
She really is such a little love.
So much of a love to Mark, at the moment, too.
When he gets in from work she has now started turning the Tv channel from her faves to his - namely 511.....SKY SPORTS. Ugh.
But even so, her considerate nature is so charming that I wonder why the dog can't be just as thoughtful to go and take his gas into another room rather than delivering it here and me being sat here choking in green mist.
So, this mornin'.
Dropped off my girl at school and came back to tackle the dishes from last night.
I know, shame on us.
Its a rare occurrence to be honest but some nights you just want to tuck your legs under your butt on the sofa, with a blanket and remote control and just veg.
Well, Mark did.
I was in here making my fingers and eyes bleed by doing some computer work until 1am and believe me - that was an early night.
So anyway I took one look at the dishes and almost vommed at the carbonara sauce floating in the top of the bowl from last nights suds.
Time for a TV breather, I thought.
Now Im not strictly a morning TV girl.
Jeremey Kyle put paid to that.
He does pick em, doesn't he? And then in fits of spitoon rage you can see his veins popping out of his forehead as he slates some 14 years old boy for sleeping with is cousins best friends dog and bleat on about DNA tests for impending puppy-gate.
Jeremy Kyle does not look attractive when he is riled.
I flicked through all the channels to find something to while away an hour.
Frasier, Will and Grace, BBC Breakfast etc etc.
Then I hit upon Americas Next Top Model.
Im always intrigued by this programme. Its so contrived, over illustrated, bitchy and fake (which is the same as contrived but I needed to spin out the sentence). I think I watch it just to try and a grip of my own life and realise that although sometimes it may be crap - at least it isn't plastic. The would-be models are so nasty to each other (behind backs of course - I mean you NEVER see anyone bitching to someones face, do you?). Well anyway today they were giving 11 models a hair makeover. You know, weaves, streaks, volume, lengths etc. BUT
They actually forced one of the cute girls to cut all her long hair off.
And then bleach it blonde.
Jeeez, I was spitting foam at how they cajoled (bullied) her into it.
And thats the magic of Tyra Banks - drop the line, feed the bait, hook em in.
Rather than sit to the end where you get to watch how the judges choose one shot at the end of every programme (to decide which model should go home next thus explaining to each candidate that she didn't look her best, she wasn't giving her all, the angle was wrong - which, in my opinion is the friggin photographers fault not the model) I went to my work room to start sifting my scrapbooky wheat from the chaff.
And boy have I had a good purge today.
If anyone lives in the vicinity of my house (Wigan) and wants to offload this from me - please be my guest before I change my mind. There is, admittedly a mix of old and relatively new. You take the chance but there is some nice stuff in there that even if I had the time to use, I would prob still use. So one box goes to whomever can cone and collect. Mail me as opposed to leaving a comment, if you do not mind. **edited - they is gone!**
After skimming the surface of my supplies I really couldn't find the energy to be creative. Its like some voodoo curse has been slapped upon me and somebody out there has sucked up all my mojo. Well whoever she is, give it back! Ive got a project to do for Crafts Beautiful and at this rate its going to look not Beautiful. Well, of course it wont but at this rate it **might**.
Anyway I sat at my desk, dog still delivering nerve agent in my vicinity when I decided to go surfin'.
You know when you think "Ill just have 10 minutes" and then 2 hours later you wonder why your backside is wedged to the chair and the circulation to your legs has stopped. That was I. After a quick check that I hadn't induced varicose veins, I started again. The thing is with me, as soon as I start blog rolling I just don't stop. The brightness of the screen makes my retinas burn but I continue regardless and when I get to some blogs that I just cant do without reading, Im also faced with cystitis because the effort of going to the lavvy might a: make me burn some calories (as if Im going to do that) and b: I might miss a juicy post from some unsuspecting blogger of whom is on my faves list, which is as long as a roll of aloe vera extra soft bog roll. **My need for tena ladies just doesn't stop at random outbursts of laughter, I can tell you**
Im sort of glad I did waste 3 precious hours doing absolutely ball-all but surfing as I happened upon a couple of galleries to draw inspiration from. the placement of one embellishment on a layout at Studio Calico set me off with an idea for CB project but all I have to do before I start is try and retrieve my smarting vision, restore my legs to the colour pink instead of a white mass threaded with greeny-blue strained veins and go for that damn pee ive been holding in for hours on end.
Cranberry juice, anyone?