...Mariah Carey-esque psycho blog rant ahead...
My sporadic posting resumes. Only because last Tuesday's trip to London left me really glowing, and then I got pissed off and depressed again yesterday so I'm doing all the stuff I enjoy to keep that glow up.
Ah it was lovely. Frida Kahlo at the Tate Modern, lunch in Chinatown (bento boxes at Ikkyusan in Gerrard Street, mmm, would recommend it!), and shopping/wandering in the West End (including a very fun spree in Surprise Surprise at the Swiss Centre which resulted in a pimp-tastic fur coat for £15!). Seriously, it's that feeling I only get after a major workout. I was flying!!! Plus earning £120 for doing nothing in DFS all weekend helped! Nice to know I still have a great deal in common with my oldest friend!
...but obviously as time passed I slid back to wallowing in it, getting up in time for the lunchtime news and being generally bitter and twisted and making my mum cry. So today, I've decided having childish tantrums a month shy of my 21st is a little passe. So I'm keeping up my glow...
Today on the internet I've discovered a couple of inspirational photoblogs (I want a photoblog. All I need is a camera...); and ordered loads of wool and bits for a knitting project: Hello Yarn's very cute Fulled Lopi Tote and gorgeous turquoise wool from Knitshop, so I can make afore-mentioned fluffy bag for my uni friend who's off to Germany for the next year!
***
Allegra's worryingly instantaneous attraction to bastards continues...I've developed a crush on cricketing love-rat Shane Warne. All anyone needs to get me all in a tizz is bleached hair, a few earrings and a habit of trouser-dropping (as illustrated). Warney bears a startling resemblance to rugby-playing love-rat S, the inspiration for previous rants on here not too long ago. I guess it's my genetic prgramming to get aroused at the sight of blonded athletic love-rats.
Even more worrying is that the man likes animal print on a woman-I found my heart leaping as he drooled over Jerry Hall's zebra-print Manolos on The Bigger Picture last night. Mind you, Warney doesn't seem the sort of guy to squeal as he peruses the pages of Vogue. Or even read Vogue for that matter. I think(!) what got him going was the fact Jerry Hall was in the shoes. But still, talk about proverbial red rags and bulls. Now if that's not a motive for the epiphany of my rhinestone studded leopardskin handbag I don't know what is.
But on a serious note...what hope is there for me?! I've tried everything to resist the inevitable, from reading unflattering kiss and tells, of which there's plenty, to looking at pictures like the one above, to the fact that Shane Warne is quite simply, fat. And that I haven't a clue about cricket.
Oh dear, I think I need some bromine in my tea come Thursday...
Anyway, I'm off to watch Byker Grove (knitting, Shane Warne, Byker Grove, my life doesn't get more exciting than this does it?!)...ttfn.
Ah it was lovely. Frida Kahlo at the Tate Modern, lunch in Chinatown (bento boxes at Ikkyusan in Gerrard Street, mmm, would recommend it!), and shopping/wandering in the West End (including a very fun spree in Surprise Surprise at the Swiss Centre which resulted in a pimp-tastic fur coat for £15!). Seriously, it's that feeling I only get after a major workout. I was flying!!! Plus earning £120 for doing nothing in DFS all weekend helped! Nice to know I still have a great deal in common with my oldest friend!
...but obviously as time passed I slid back to wallowing in it, getting up in time for the lunchtime news and being generally bitter and twisted and making my mum cry. So today, I've decided having childish tantrums a month shy of my 21st is a little passe. So I'm keeping up my glow...
Today on the internet I've discovered a couple of inspirational photoblogs (I want a photoblog. All I need is a camera...); and ordered loads of wool and bits for a knitting project: Hello Yarn's very cute Fulled Lopi Tote and gorgeous turquoise wool from Knitshop, so I can make afore-mentioned fluffy bag for my uni friend who's off to Germany for the next year!
***
Allegra's worryingly instantaneous attraction to bastards continues...I've developed a crush on cricketing love-rat Shane Warne. All anyone needs to get me all in a tizz is bleached hair, a few earrings and a habit of trouser-dropping (as illustrated). Warney bears a startling resemblance to rugby-playing love-rat S, the inspiration for previous rants on here not too long ago. I guess it's my genetic prgramming to get aroused at the sight of blonded athletic love-rats.
Even more worrying is that the man likes animal print on a woman-I found my heart leaping as he drooled over Jerry Hall's zebra-print Manolos on The Bigger Picture last night. Mind you, Warney doesn't seem the sort of guy to squeal as he peruses the pages of Vogue. Or even read Vogue for that matter. I think(!) what got him going was the fact Jerry Hall was in the shoes. But still, talk about proverbial red rags and bulls. Now if that's not a motive for the epiphany of my rhinestone studded leopardskin handbag I don't know what is.
But on a serious note...what hope is there for me?! I've tried everything to resist the inevitable, from reading unflattering kiss and tells, of which there's plenty, to looking at pictures like the one above, to the fact that Shane Warne is quite simply, fat. And that I haven't a clue about cricket.
Oh dear, I think I need some bromine in my tea come Thursday...
Anyway, I'm off to watch Byker Grove (knitting, Shane Warne, Byker Grove, my life doesn't get more exciting than this does it?!)...ttfn.
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