Posts Tagged ‘pyjamas’

Me! I want to join in!

Given that Emily at The Waiting is one of the coolest bloggers I know, I will follow, sheep-like, any suggestions she makes.

“Do Secret Santa, Laura,” she said last December.

“Yes, Emily,” I said and got a present ready for a stranger.

“Come to my child’s 1st birthday party,” Emily said in March.

“Yes, Emily,” I replied, sending in a suitably childlike photo of myself and my brother so we could attend the celebrations.

More recently, Emily teamed up with Zebra Garden, an equally fantastic blogger, to create a kind of Thursday blog-prompt thing. I don’t definitely understand but I said “Yes, Emily,” obediently and resolved to get my head round it.

Fingers crossed I’ve managed and you’re viewing an impressive looking blog badge thing with Emily and Ashley’s names on it?

Anyway, the theme is sleepover so here’s a kind of hashed-together instruction manual of things that must happen at sleepovers. Because Emily told me to.

1. An evening which turns into an unexpected sleepover will require you to sleep in your clothes rather than ask your friend to borrow some because you’re far FAR too embarrassed. You then spend the entirety of the next day in them and don’t see what the problem might be.

2. Warbling along to Christina Aguilera’s Beautiful and really believing you are destined for worldwide fame because of your amazing voice. You’re singing, by the way, into a deodorant bottle.

3. Drinking J2O and acting squiffy because you haven’t quite understood that it is a juice drink which is designed to look alcoholic but actually isn’t.

4. Eating so many fried egg sweets and gobstoppers that you’re on the verge of vomiting but refusing to stop.

5. Playing truth or dare except it’s mostly truths and it’s mostly ‘which boys do you fancy?’ A big secret must be revealed at every sleepover or the whole exercise seems slightly pointless. In the day following the revelation, you must all giggle and look at each other knowingly across classrooms because you all know The Big Secret. Mine, by the way, was the revelation that I had a massive crush on Arnold Schwarzenegger when I was younger. Look, don’t laugh! I know you’ve got some. Haven’t you?

6. Watching a film you’ve watched a ton of times, that you could recite the entire script to but still insisting that you watch it. Mine and my friend Alison’s was The Great Gatsby (the Robert Redford and Mia Farrow version). Another standard one was The Sound of Music (loved it, LOVED it) or Dirty Dancing.

7. Inevitably, you talk about the current ‘issues’ you’re struggling with. Example 1 –  I’m not sure what to do when I go on the sunbed, do I leave my bra on or not? Example 2 – how long should I wait before squeezing a spot?

8. There must, and I repeat must, be some occasional squealing, high pitched laughter and, if you’re feeling risky, an actual scream or two. A parent will then appear with sleepy eyes and implore you to ‘please quieten down, girls, it’s after 1am and you’ve all got a big day tomorrow.’

9. About every fifth sleepover with the same group, there will likely be a falling-out or, at the very least, a change in set-up of the best friends in the group. The subtle change of moving your number 2 friend into the Best Friend spot will have far-reaching consequences which could deeply affect the demoted friend. Until, that is, the following week in school when you have Maths together and you re-establish her in the number 1 spot. 

10. I don’t really have a number 10 but it’s a better number than 9 so I put it there. Um. Okay, let me think of something to say. O yes, I once left my removable retainer thing for my teeth at a friend’s house after a sleepover and I was HORRIFIED! Too horrified to ask for it back. How. Embarrassing. So I left it there and my bottom teeth moved slightly so now they overlap a little. All because I was 15 years old and embarrassed by absolutely everything.

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Tinned spaghetti and chubby Dachshunds

Today, I’m just going to do a quick round up of this week’s Chat magazine. Yesterday contained the best stuff. Today’s is really the stuff I feel I can’t let you go on without knowing.

This stuff is important for your life.

First up, the dog that was so fat it looked like a big pillow. Look.

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The caption next to the second photo says, wittily, “Does my bum look big in this?” And yes, big fat dog. The answer is yes. Your bum does look big in that.

The vet lady who took it in and vowed to then it’s life around describes how she put him on a diet and eventually he lost some weight and then, like a human, he had to have an operation to cut off his hangy skin after losing all the weight.

Ridiculous.

Next, the couple who wears the same clothes and have some for 35 years. I’m pretty sure most people know about them as they’ve been in lots of magazines and newspapers but this picture is something new that I’ve not seen before. Them in matching jarmies. Check it out!

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Looking good….

And last but not least, I couldn’t have put away this week’s Chat without telling you all about the latest value for money in the world of food. Each week, Chat do a column which reviews one item of food from all different shops or brands and grades them out of 10. Well, this week, there’s one which I know you’ll all be itching to hear the results for….

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Yup. Tinned spaghetti. Can we get a shout out for TINNED SPAGHETTI, my friends?! Woooooop! Who loves tinned spaghetti? Waaaaaah! ME! Me!

And in case you’re wondering, Tesco won this one. Their 28p tinned spaghetti was described as a ‘teatime treat.’ If I served up tinned spaghetti in my house and told everyone it was a ‘treat’, I think I’d have a mutiny on my hands.

A teatime treat?! Spare me this madness.

Q is for…

QUESTION & ANSWER

Readers, we are going to have a little question and answer session, you and I. Well, we’re going to improvise a little. Rather than me actually sit round and wait for you to write questions in the comments section and then only get one anyway, which is like, ‘what’s your favourite colour?’ I’m just going to ask myself some questions that I think you might have asked me.

1. What was the most interesting thing you did yesterday?
Put some paper in the recycling bin out the front of the house.

2. That doesn’t sound very interesting. Why was it interesting?
Because I was dressed in my pyjamas, no shoes on, hair resembling a lion’s mane. And the front door closed and locked me outside.

3. I see. Hasn’t this happened to you before?
Yes. I had a pan on the hob at the time, pickling some chicory. There was no spare set of keys that time so I had to break into the house. This time, however, I knew it would be fine because two of my neighbours have copies of the keys. I specifically gave them to people I know don’t go out often.

4. And did you go and get the keys from one of them?
Well, I went next door first and knocked on her door. When there was no answer, I knocked again. The possibility that she was not there had not even entered my mind. After the second knock and a long wait, it became clear that she was not in. As I went back to my front door to make a plan B, a courier van pulled up outside and a man holding a parcel got out and approached the house. I stood there, helplessly, in my pyjamas and signed where he asked me to. Embarrassed, I explained that I was locked out and took the parcel he gave me, like a right divvy.

5. But Laura, of course you were wearing lovely pyjamas, weren’t you? Think Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and I’ve got it, right? Cute, delicate, a bit sexy?
Readers, this is where I must disappoint you for this is far from the truth. Only a blind person would think that my pyjama-ed state yesterday morning resembled Audrey. For the truth of the matter is that I do not lounge around the house luxuriously, wearing eau de parfum and serenading playboys who live upstairs. I do not wear ‘silky numbers’ or sheer satin which clings to me in all the right places. The truth is that yesterday morning I was wearing a desperately unflattering pink number. I had long dark pink shorts, of a kind of cottony material which loses its shape after a few washes. They had a silly pattern of kiss marks all over them and were saggy around the knees. The t-shirt was probably the most atrocious thing about this outfit. It had once hung nicely and not made me look awkward and ill shapen and saggy-boobed. Once. But now it is old and faded and does all of the above. It also makes me look like I weigh about fifteen stone.

6. What did you do after you got the parcel?
I dumped it outside the door and faced the truth that I would have to go to my other neighbour’s house to get the key. Off I went down the road, shoeless, wild-haired, ugly pyjama-clad, in search of a key. I knocked at the door and my heart started to sink as the pause grew longer. I looked for his car, which is always there as he never goes out. And yep, sure enough, today was the day he had gone out.

7. So what did you do next?
There was only one thing for it. I needed to be able to call Danda and ask him to let me in. But I didn’t have my phone with me. I would have to walk to the end of the road, go in the deli (where I work, by the way) and use their phone to call Danda. Off I went again. And I’ll remind you again of my attire. Wild lion hair? Check. Saggy t-shirt which makes you look obese? Check. Stretched out pyjama pants with kiss marks all over them? Check. No shoes? Check. O, and I should probably add here, a little fuzzier than I’d have liked. My little stubbly legs stuck out the bottom of my pink shorts, pale from 7 months of winter and not yet defuzzed for the approaching summer. So there I am, like the trampiest hobo you ever seen in your life ever, walking down the road to the deli. I bit the bullet and just walked in, head down, and headed through the shop, inbetween the tables of coffee drinking mothers and espresso drinking suit-wearers having business meetings and went straight to the stockroom. The staff in there turned and, inevitably, fell about laughing, probably shocked at what a tramp I clearly am at home. I used the phone and called Danda, back to back, about five hundred times. Because, obviously, the one time in the day when he’d left his phone somewhere was the time when I needed him. He was in a shop and his phone was in his cab. He eventually picked up and said he’d be ten minutes. I waited in the back then heard a beep as he pulled up outside so I ran, with what dignity I had left (none) and jumped into the cab and was sped off home to pretend this all never happened. Danda, by the way, laughed uncontrollably when he saw me.

8. Good one. I had no idea you were such a nonce.
Well, readers, there you have it. I am, in fact, a big fat nonce. And when I got home from this pyjama-related trauma, I had a text from a friend saying ‘Good look.’ It turns out he’d been in the deli and witnessed my indescribable shame first hand. Brilliant.

9. Is there a silver lining to this story?
There is. I am going to Italy tomorrow and I think, with distance, I can start to heal. I’ve unofficially diagnosed myself with Post Traumatic Pyjama Disorder. I think that’s an illness, right?

A Valentine’s mix-up

Yesterday, I finished work at 3pm and decided I’d potter into town and get some ideas for Valentine’s Day. Unusually for me, I didn’t have anything planned. Now I’m a girl who loves to plan a surprise. Any occasion. I’ll get started on plans months in advance. I love it.

So Valentine’s Day was on the horizon and, for some unknown reason, I just didn’t get round to planning anything. I’m ok at last minute so it wasn’t a major problem but I was a little surprised. That’s why I decided to wander around town for a while looking for ideas yesterday. I thought I could form a plan whilst seeing things to get inspiration. 

I went into the fancy, preppy Jack Wills and perused the sock section. I visited Molten Brown and smelled the many shower gels. I looked at the photo frames in Zara Home, the jumpers in Crew Clothing and the books in Waterstone’s. Eventually, whilst wandering around M&S, I decided on a nice pair of pyjamas (that I will inevitably steal and start wearing within a week) and, remembering that it is just Valentine’s and not a full on birthday or anything, restrained myself enough to just decide to buy some chocolates to go with the pyjamas.

I headed straight for my favourite chocolate shop. It is called William Curley’s and is a haven of chocolatey goodness. It has won awards. It runs chocolate cookery courses daily. Its chocolates are flavoured with the delicate tastes of Scottish heather and Richmond Park honey. It is phenomenally good quality. I always put a little something from William Curley’s on the side of birthday gifts.

Danda called while I was on my way there and asked me where I was.

“O, just in Waitrose,” said I, sneakily. For I am very sneaky sometimes. “I’m getting us some dinner.”

“Brilliant. I’ve been at the garage all afternoon. The gears on the taxi broke. The mechanic just got finished and I’m driving back. Do you fancy going to the cinema tonight?”

“That sounds great. Call me when you get here.”

I hurried to William Curley’s, for I would have to get home and hide the presents before Danda got back or it would ruin the surprise. Turning into the little lane, I started to imagine what chocolate I would pick for him. I pushed open the door, stepped into the shop and looked up…..

…. At Danda!

There was a moment of recognition as we both realised what had happened. He was at the till paying and just suddenly said, “Get out!” pointing wildly at the door, at which I turned on my heel and fled, laughing uncontrollably.

O well. There goes the surprise! And now I have to think of a new plan for the chocolate part of the present, as I obviously didn’t get any. Maybe a hug will do?

Search terms 4

It’s been a while and yesterday I saw ‘evil flab man’ come up so I knew it was time for one of these. I also really love that famous poet Cloreidge, he was good, hey?

is revising in pyjamas ok
du cane court mummified baby
first hot yoga class
i’ve lost my passport and i am unable to travel
wet myself in ballet class
im falling for my trainer
gelatarias
defrosted freezer door now hissing
“alex jones” “truffles”
does george michael live at the grove in highgate
maisey italian restaurant in luton
south east aslan rain forest
35 st mary’s walk scarborough
chihuahua egg cup
strange doll photographs
picture red wine mess
rowley lane dance mat
danda
dont want to finish stories
coubotin tv
lucille ball
june bride pig
truffle butter london
famous public apostrophe mistakes
how to make dolls out of eggshells
when do kingston call for pgce interview
thai kitchen green curry
chan man sin v ag of hk
unlawful act manslaughter revision
things to know about first outing on holiday
things to remember in swimming
salt museum, eua
new weaver hall built in 1960s at the bridge
academy awards donald duck
james bond moment
aslan’s mountain
butcher three bird roast
how do i withdraw from my first challenge
lazylauramaisey
men stupid face
highgate jb priestley
evil flab man
the flask cloreidge
the girl said to me
goji berries muffins
ode to my tooth

I touched the key and….

Ok, so I’m still not done with this week’s Chat magazine. You’ll be glad to hear we’re revisiting it and this time, I’m heading to the ‘Spirit World’ section, with Chat’s medium, Tony. Now every week, there’s a picture of a key.

The ‘lucky things that happened to readers’ last week were….

Kate baked the perfect chocolate cake for her son’s birthday.

Peggy learnt to ride a bike (she’s 60).

Maggie’s dog has finally stopped chewing her shoes.

Apparently those things happened because of touching the key. Amazing. So if you’re reading this and you want some amazingly good luck (if you are going to make a cake, ride a bike or get a dog, maybe) close your eyes and touch the key and report back the lucky things that happened to you as a result of it. Let me tell you about my day yesterday after I touched the key. The luckiest day ever!

I woke up at 4.15am to do an online exam, my last thing for my law degree, and my computer didn’t break in the middle of it! Wow!

I made a cup of tea and didn’t spill any of it on myself! Amazing!

I wasn’t late for work! In fact, I was three minutes early… Lucky!

I was very tired but I didn’t fall asleep standing up! Omg!

I had five coffees but didn’t have a heart attack! Gosh!

Someone annoyed me at work but I didn’t punch them! Brilliant!

I had a sleep when I got home from work and didn’t fall out of bed! Yeh!

I made a tasty banana bread! Fantastic!

I made a nice dinner for a friend who came over! Fab!

The football was on but I read a book instead so I wouldn’t get bored! Great!

The washing dried on the line outside so I had clean pyjamas for bedtime! Amazing!

You see? All you sceptics out there. I bet you’re eating your words now, aren’t you? See how LUCKY my day was after I touched the key? I might write in to Chat to let them know how much they helped me and they might put me in their Lucky Key column.

I heart Chat.

Theft! Murder! Burglary! Blackmail!

No, this is not what happened to me yesterday. It’s the subjects I’m revising for tomorrow’s Criminal Law exam. Sorry if you came to read this expecting some interesting stories filled with police, a battle between good and evil, a fight for life, some vigilante justice and hero of the She-ra variety.

Unfortunately, I am not She-ra. I am just Lau-ra. And I am spending today in my front room, which is kind of like a dungeon now. Curtains always closed (so I don’t see the outside world and feel tempted to go for a walk or anything). No music allowed because it distracts me. Empty water bottles, mugs, containers that once held food and little scraps of paper are scattered around everywhere. I have some relatively serious hand cramp issues. For your information only, I also stopped brushing my hair a few days ago and will change out of my pyjamas only when I leave the house to go to exams. When I walk down to the deli to get food, I often just throw a jumper on over my jarmies and hope no-one will notice. (They do.) One positive development has been that I have stopped living off cake and muffins. A move toward the salad/quiche/proper meals section of the deli has improved matters. I no longer enter and pick up a jar of peanut butter and scurry off home with it hoping no-one sees me and judges me.

I’ve eaten maybe a hundred oatcakes this week. I get funny addictions when I’m in a situation of stress. Like last year, when I got really ill and had the emergency operation (C is for), I got really addicted to Top Gear. There are a billion episodes being repeated constantly and I was just all over it! I’m not into cars at all, I don’t drive and now that I’m well again, I’ve got no idea what was going on because I’ve never ever watched it again, since getting better. Top Gear?! Jeremy Clarkson?! And that other one who had the crash and almost died, what’s his name? Richard something?

So anyway, my exam addiction is anything of the oatcake/cracker variety. It’s puzzling.

I am also addicted to making flashcards. I think flashcards make the world a better place actually. We should all try making some.

By the way, there are no stories from yesterday’s Equity and Trusts exam really. There was an essay question which I had suspected might come up but hadn’t had time to do as much preparation for it as I would have liked. But no major disasters. I don’t think there were anyway!