This week has been really really good for me. My script has been chosen to be used for an advert at work, and because I’m highly professional, I cannot give away specifics, but be sure that as soon as it’s on TV, specifics will be flooding every social media platform I have any kind of presence on so yes essentially just a really arrogant status and a witty Tweet- ‘witty’ being the questionable adjective here.
So I went to the gym today. I know, how impressive do I wanna be? Although after my half hour run, one of the gym instructors saw me leave and yelled (across the feckin gym) ‘is that all you’re doing today?!’ to which I consulted my plethora of incredibly self demeaning, yet humorous responses and tried to say, ‘oh yes- I didn’t want to show everyone else up.’ Now because i’m extremely unfit and had just ran solidly for half an hour, my body was in shock, so whilst trying not to pass out/ eat the sweat on my top lip I responded as thus, ‘yeah- i’m just showing up.’ This does not make sense whatsoever.
Oh christ talking of my gym nightmares, I thought i’d struck gold when I bought my new jazzy trainers, leggings etc for a fraction of the normal price in, you guessed it, Sports Direct. (foreigners- Sports Direct is a huuuuge cheap sports department store, but where people buy branded stuff so they can pretend they stock up all the time in the actual Nike store.) So I get to the counter like, ‘Hey lady, I know what you’re thinking… wow look at this girl obviously just nipping out to buy exercise gear on her lunch break cos she’s so ‘get up and go’, when I spot some sports bottles behind the counter, for a very reasonable £1.99, so I casually say as though I’m rolling in money, ‘oh and i’ll have one of those bottles too.’ Turns out, the ‘Sports Direct’ neon logo, emblazoned across the damn thing, IS NOT A STICKER. I’m not a gym snob by any means, but I look like a total moron swigging my Sports Direct bottle coupled with the fact I had NO IDEA how to use any of the machines. So spot the bloody newbie. Also, I bought pink because I’m a girl and it’s what we do, so there really is no hiding the fact that I am a slightly flabby fish out of water.
The pictures in today’s blog post are a jolly selection (only ever the finest archived material for you guys). Okay, the first two are screen shots of some total legends’ IP addresses. There’s a lot of these going around in London. Props to the Game of Thrones reference, holla at cha sista. The next picture is of me, Skyping my beloved (betrothed) Noodles. I had some very edgy (contrary to popular belief) ripped jeans on, which I decided made my knees look like a sneaky bald man, so I drew him a face because, I am coooool as a cucumber. Next picture is of me doing what I do best- drilling new holes in my new (old charity shop) belt with, obviously, a broken pen and the handle of a brolly. Now that’s what I call thinking outside the box. I have scouts to thank for my ‘adapt and overcome’ motto in my life. Lastly is one of the best pictures I have taken of myself, ever, ever like ever. So I was gonna go for the full selfie, and could already imagine what I was going to write about the epic jumper my grandmother had knitted me, but as I opened good old iPhoto, the beams of light coming into my room made it look like I was being taken to another dimension, so because I’m a weirdo with no friends in London please someone help me I decided to reenact the scene in which I had been locked away for 1,000 years and the vortex had come to collect me.
Right I can’t remember any other worthy details of my week so let’s consult the note taking device on my snazzy phone…
Hahaha… I read one, ‘Spaghetti, tinned tuna, Broccoli.’ then thought, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? It’s a shopping list, bugger. I haven’t written any notes, that’s odd.
This week will be exciting for sure, and to round it off on Sunday, Gina and I have a surprise day together that she has organised as one of my Christmas presents, yay.
Thoughts to end on… What the hell are capers- how are they grown? Excited to use new toothpaste, weirdly excited to be working out (LA here I come) and I wanna move Henry the hoover from my room tonight as he’s freaking me out, just slightly. Oh and I will ABSOLUTELY, my dear Rabbi poetry club leader write a poem but I really must do some preparation work for tomorrow and I think I’ve rambled on enough.