When I grow up I want to be...

I LOVE this advert. I dare you to watch it and not feel like you are back in childhood and dreaming of being a glamorous air hostess. Check out the shoes... the hair and all set to an amazing 80's soundtrack.



I guess we all know it is not all glamour, but I think there is still some magic in the skies.

My Aunty, my mother's litle sister, was an air hostess, and when I was a little girl I wanted to be just like her. She met my uncle, a pilot, on an international stopover and it was quite the whirlwind romance. One minute she was being bridesmaid at my parent's traditional white wedding in the summer of 1972, then a few weeks later, without telling anyone, she's eloped to Guernsy to marry her pilot before moving to Canada to begin a new life.

I don't think my mother ever really undestood her actions and felt quite hurt that she was not included in the wedding or even privvy to her plans, but I think maybe my Aunty was worried her family would talk her out of the marriage and moving to a different continent with someone she had known for barely anytime at all.

And she most likely hadn't realy thought it through at all - My Aunty was always the wildchild and impulsive sister, compared to my quiet and conservative mum, which is why we get on so well and can sit up drinking vodka and talking untill the small hours when she visits...

She clearly made the right choice though as nearly 40 years later they are still happily married and just settling down to enjoy their retirement in Ontario.

How utterly romantic!

Poorly but productive

I'm still not well enough to go out, and thoroughly miserable, bored and grumpy as a result.

However I have used my day productively and had a massive eBay blitz from my sick bed. I sell clothes generally. Mainly my used stuff that I've got bored of, but also some unused bits.

My friend DD is a print designer for the big high street names, and a few times a month they are given access to the sample cupboard where every piece costs £1. The sample cupboard is packed full of clothes and shoes from the designers have bought from other retailers to inspire their work. Some are absolute tat, but some are real finds.

He always gets me a huge bag of stuff each time he goes in which I look forward to receiving each month. Once he got me and amazing pair of tan leather brogue style lace up shoe boots, that I absolutely adore. Another time he found me a gorgeous black bubble hemmed mini dress.

Of course, not all the stuff he finds me will fit or be to my taste, so up it goes straight on eBay, along with my old clothes and anything else I'm selling at the time.

Once you get going with eBay and the money starts coming into your account it's pretty addictive. In the last month so far I have made £250 and that is not including all the pieces I have listed today.

It's a good feeling to have managed to get something productive done today, but it doesn't make up for the fact that I'm still sitting here in the flat, still in my house clothes and that I can't go out tonight. We're on the guestlist for the fabulous Punk in Soho tonight and I'm currently helping my housemate SH get ready. She is trying to tempt me out giving me alcohol to drink and playing tempting tunes, but I'm not budging. I'm still not feeling well and if I go out and get drunk like this I'll still be feeling poorly next weekend.

A lonesome night in for this little one tonight again then.

Today's most missed memory

Sitting here now in my cold flat, Ibiza last summer seems a million years ago.

This was our view every night, either sitting in Mambo's drinking cocktails, or when we couldn't quite bare to spend 13Euro's on a drink sitting on the rocks with 2Euro cartons of Sangria.

The sunsets are magical in Ibiza, not just because of their amazing beauty, but because as the sun goes down the lazy days end and party time begins. I get a little ball of excitement in my stomach just looking at the picture.

How I miss it. Two amazing care free weeks, with my best friends in the world. Happy days.

I Swallowed a Cactus

I am feeling quite sorry for myself this morning. I have had a sore throat all week, but it got so bad yesterday, along with a fever, that I didn't go in to work, and I am still in bed now. My tongue has swollen up, and now my ear is starting to ache. All on the right hand side of my head/mouth/throat. Wah I hate sore throats.

And it's even worse because I don't have anyone to look after me, or go to the shop and get me orange juice and ice lollies. I would kill for some Ben & Jerry's cookie dough right now. And a biiiig glass of tropicana (with bits obviously).

It has also made me realise I really need to end what is left of my holiday romance with D. I spoke to him yesterday morning and told him how i felt really ill and was in bed, off work etc. Then when we spoke later on in the evening he didn't ask me how I was feeling at all, and after about ten minutes even asked me how work had been - he had totally forgotten or had just not been listening in the first place. It just made me wonder why I bother. If you have been seeing someone for nearly five months it would be nice if they actually made some effort with you.

I've been in a bit of a grump with the situation since Christmas really, he didn't get me a present or make any effort to meet up before I left for two weeks. Then, when we met up a week after I got back we had a stupid argument about the Israel/Palestine situation, and he really wound me up because it felt more like he was just trying to argue for the sake of arguing about something rather than because he felt strongly about it/had any real understanding of it.

I think basically he is just too young for me - and I have felt this all along but there was never really any issues, but over time I have started to notice I have different priorities. He just acts like a twenty-year-old, which is no bad thing by any means, but just not what I need. He is a good person, and it was nice to keep a bit if Ibiza alive for a while, but I think it has well and truly fizzled.

God my throat is hurting. I think sore throat is my least favorite illness and it means I get dehydrated quickly because it hurts to swallow, even water.

Has anyone got any pearls of wisdom for me to cheer me up a little? And if someone could pop round with a fruit pastel ice lolly that would be great.

Bit of a moan about the student loan

I graduated from university and entered the word of work a year and a half ago, beginning the repayment of my student loan pretty much straight away. Each month a percentage of my salary is deducted for the repayment before it even hits my bank account, and I never really give it much thought.

I realised this morning it had been some time since I had seen a statement from Student Loan Company, and also that I actually had no idea what my total debt was. After a quick rummage in my very organised filing system (bottom drawer along with birth certificate, photo albums and some unidentified computer cables), I managed to find a statement. Dated June 2006. With the address listed as my second student house. Oops.

What about online statements I hear you say. Ah yes, online statements! Good idea. Ok, please enter ART ID. What the deuce is an ART ID? Oh that could be it. Yes. Password. Ok most likely this. Now, just for the Secret Answer Question... In what city did you meet your partner? Partner? I don't have a partner! I have a university history of various flings and short relationships, but at no point would I have called anyone my 'partner'. Surely I can't have chosen this question? Maybe I was drunk. I proberbly chose it when drunk back in 2006 and that is why I can't remember it.

Time to call a human I think.

So, after a helpful conversation with a lovely Scotsman I am now armed with my ART ID number (completely different to what I thought it was), email resetting my online password and the total balance of my debt. I owe a grand total of £13,133. Which is not actually as bad as I thought it would be, especially for a Classics degree from one of the top 5 departments in the country. I had it in my head that the debt was over £18,000, so it is quite a relief really.

Another nugget of information I found out from my telephone conversation was that even though repayments are deducted straight from my wage on a monthly basis, my employer does not pass that money on to the SLC until the end of the tax year. Meaning my employer is earning interest my money! This had made me somewhat annoyed. And apparently it is not possible to opt out of the wage deductions if there is still an outstanding balance on the loan.

If they only require one lump payment to be made a year then I surely I should be able to put that money aside in a savings account and earn interest on it - not my employer.

The joys of shared accomodation

I love my housemates, all five of them. I do not, however, love hearing my dear friend J snoring loudly straight through the wall. He must have been drinking, he only snores when he is drunk.

The fact that I can tell how much alcohol he has been drinking by listening to his breathing without even being in the same room just goes to show the walls in the Warehouse are too thin.

Thin walls also lead to the following embarrassing exchanges:

J: So did you and D enjoy watching Silent Hill last night?

Me: Yes thank you J, it was very scary indeed.

J: So you had a good night then? Oh wait, I already know the answer to that one. You certainly sounded like you enjoyed discussing the film afterwards. All night loooong. Ooooh yeh.

Me: Shut the fuck up. [WHILE BLUSHING PROFUSELY]

Delightful. But at least thin walls mean you can hear someone else starting to get out of bed and dive out yourself, beating them in the race to the one bathroom we share. Every cloud...

Panic stations at the ready...

My father celebrates his 65th Birthday in this year. And after a long and successful career in the transport industry it is now time for him to step down and take his retirement.

He started his career on the London busses back in the 1960’s, and often tells me about the day England won the World Cup in 1966, how he had smuggled a radio onto the big red bus he was driving, so he and his cheering passengers could keep tabs on the game. There must have been such a buzz on that bus, I would have loved to have seen the excitement when a goal was scored, and when the final whistle blew!

He worked his way up the industry quickly, becoming a young area manager in his twenties, and then progressing onto senior management moving around the country for his career before settling into the position he holds today, over twenty years ago.

He has achieved so much in his working life, yet he is the most modest person I know and told my mother he didn’t want any fuss over his retirement, so we agreed.

Well, that’s what he thinks! Obviously a life event can’t pass by like this without some form of celebration so we have set about deviously organising a surprise bash fro him. I have just booked the venue, his favourite hotel, and now we have a matter of months to find, contact and invite key colleagues and friends from the breadth of his career, gather photographs, and organise the event; which will involve a sit down meal for 100 people. It is basically going to be like planning a wedding reception but without the dress.

The biggest challenge will come from keeping it all a secret. Mum won’t be able to make many calls as Dad would notice on the bills so I will be taking care of most things from down here, and god forbid anyone should accidentally ring the house and leave their RSVP on the answerphone.

And then there will be the search for the appropriate outfit. It obviously needs to be quite formal, without looking like I’m preened up for a wedding. I just want to look smart and stylish without looking over the top and as though I have tried too hard. Mum is kindly slipping me a few of the queen's notes to help me out, which should ease the pressure of my search, but I need to find my inspiration first.

I can feel the pressure on already to get everything organised in the next few months, but any stress gathered along the way will be so worth it to see the surprise and smile on his face when he walks into that room to be greeted by so many old friends. I can’t wait.