Birmingham bound

The bank holiday has landed! I'm about to leave the office, hop and a train and head straight up to Birmingham to see my dearest girls. Spring Bank Holiday weekend is a time long tradition of attending Gay Pride, drinking too much and dancing until our feet can no longer hold us up.

I will also be seeing my closest friend E tonight, fresh back from her four months in Kenya. This has been the longest time, since we met during the first week at university, that we have been apart. I am bringing the DVD's (classic period dramas to feed our addiction to good old fashioned romance), and she is supplying the feast.

This trip will be strange, as it will be my first journey home since I found out I had a new job in London. I had always promised myself, and my friends, that my time in London would be short and that my next job would bring me home. I can't help but feel I've gone back on my word in a small way, but the right reasons I hope.

Have a lovely weekend everyone, what ever you get up to!

High-speed fitness

In our never ending quest to find fun ways to stay fit the girls and I decided to try roller-blading in the park this weekend.

Blading is not as easy as it looks although we were slightly cocky in our ability at first. While picking up our hire skates from a shop over the road from the Hyde Park we piffed at the offer of a £15 hours beginners lesson - I mean how hard can it be? I used to go to rollerworld in derby every week, and I was, like, really good - I could go backwards and EVERYTHING! Wrist guards? No thanks - they are for geeks.

However, our arrival at the park told a different story. We strapped ourselves into our roller-blades and found it not to be quite as easy as I remembered. Que lots of squealing, wobbling around and curses that we had not got the wrist guards. After a few minutes though we managed to find our feet, secured our balance and set off along the path. It was a quite a crisp Sunday afternoon but there were still plenty of people out and about, including cyclists, joggers with prams and religious fanatics all of whom we managed to wobble past without mishap.

Soon enough we were whizzing along the open path and starting to quite enjoy ourselves even to the point of confidence, especially me and S who started picking up quite a bit of speed... which was all well and good until we saw the path ahead drop down a hill. And then realised we'd missed out the small factor of practicing how to stop before setting off.

I knew this could be bad. We were getting faster and the slope downwards was getting steeper. The path led down towards a road that ran through the park leading onto the busy main roads that circle Hype Park, and was separated by bollards and a curb. If there was a hazard perception test for roller-bladers this would involve a LOT of clicking right now.

I started squeeling and manged to skate onto a grass verge, which didn't actually stop me but send me whizzing back the other way only to crash straight into a lampost - which luckily stopped me. Meanwhile S went screaming and whizzing past me, straight down the hill and round a bend at the bottom towards the main road. Luckily she fell over before she got there. Meanwhile along came F in a flurry of frantic arm waving screaming her head off unable to stop. She too went arse over tits.

EVERYONE was staring at us and laughing. Frank Spencer move over. I was hanging onto the lampost for dear life, laughing harder than I have laughed in a long time just happy to be alive and unbroken. F and S were laughing too, trying to pick themselves up off the floor which, dear reader, is not the easiest of things to do with wheels strapped to your feet.

Luckily one of the regular skaters witnessed the commotion, came and rescued me from clinging on to the lampost at the top of the hill and gave us a lesson into how to stop, and then hung out with us for a while to make sure we were ok. I also managed to fall into the sandpit that runs next the path for the horses to ride on as I tried to turn round to talk to someone behind me.

More practice is definitely needed, but once we had mastered the basics we had an amazing afternoon skating up and down the (hill free) road. Blading is fantastic exercise for the thighs and bottom, and I could really feel it the next day. I had no idea that an afternoon of physical activity could be so much fun, or that such a lovely community existed there. Apparently each weekend a regular crowd gathers in the park to blade, skate and hang out - on sunny days there is even music courtesy of a DJ powered with a car battery. And these are not your stereotypical crusty (sorry) skater types, but a real mix of people from all walks of life who just like to skate.

We have planned our next outing, and S is even considering buying her own blades to save on the hire charge. I wonder if this will become a new hobby for me, or just another of my fads? Either way, it was the best Sunday afternoon I've had in London in a long time.

A long time distant

I realised the other day that I have an addictive personality but a short attention span. I dive into new things with glee and enthusiasm believing I have discovered a new way of life. Take writing my blog - on starting I truly believed I would be writing if not every day then every other day. And for a short while that was true. I was obsessed - checking to see if anyone had commented, checking how many people had looked at my page and sitting on the tube planning what I was going to post about.

And it's not just blogging; budgeting, saving, making soup to take to work, exercising, dieting, being more friendly to people when I'm out, eBaying.... they are all things I have taken up only to forget about within weeks.

Anyone would think I was an Aries!

So quick life update (if anyone is interested):

• Got a new job! Doing communications for a very large organisation - very excited. Who said anything about a recession.
  
• Moving to Angel - Fulham has had it's day.
• Frenchman - Nothing really happening aside from him ringing me when he gets drunk and trying to talk to me, I totally lost interest in him a long time ago - but like him as a friend.
  

So life is about to change in a big way really. Since I moved to London nearly two years ago now I have worked in the same job and lived west - which has been great but a change is as good as a rest.

I keep getting that nervous feeling that things could get stressful. Moving house is never simple, and this will be no exception. We are spliting the house basically - Me and the two girls moving to Angel and the boys staying put in Fulham. Which is sad, but we can't put our lives on hold if everyone isn't on the same page. Which leads to the question, live as a three or find two new boys to omve in with us?

I think the consensus is to find two new male housemates to live in a five bedroomed house, but I am apprehenisve and quite fancy living in a girlie flat now. Boys are great and all that, but they are secretive and never do any cleaning. And finding two new housemates at the same time as finding a house will jsut add to the stress, combined with the fact I am starting a new job. all this change does not a happy me make.

Well for better or worse, Angel here we come.

The Jade Goody effect, hypochondria and a spot more retail therapy.

The week so far has been kind of stressful. I am a complete hypochondriac, but the kind that has such a phobia of receiving bad news (that I am always certain I am going to receive) that I am too scared to go to the dentist or doctors. As a result I worry worry myself half to death over any little niggle, but never dare go to get anything checked out. The phobia is so bad that I go faint in surgeries, and I find it impossible to give blood samples as the panic attack that always comes makes my vain contract and disappear from the surface of my skin.

But this week I decided it was time to confront my fears and booked my first dentist appointment in four years, and my first smear test at the doctors.

The trip to the dentist was HORRIBLE. I was very distressed to discover I have GUM DISEASE which he told me, very kindly, can cause stroke, heart disease and infertility. He took an x ray of my jaw (he must think all my teeth are about to fall out) and I have to go back and have an £110 session with a dental hygienist. All because I was too scared to go to the dentist for years. AND he says I grind my teeth and I have the teeth of a 50 year old. He says this is often due to stress. Well that is one more stress I had not thought about stressing about before… gum disease! Ta Dr what-ever-your name was. Also, I was so freaked out just from being there that I thought he had a special moving chair to relax people... and asked him to ‘turn it off’ because it was making me feel dizzy, but that was actually just me being on the verge of fainting.

The doctors this morning wasn't much better. As soon as I walked into the office I warned the nurse that I have an irrational fear of anything medical and that I may get distressed, but I don't think she was quite prepared for how stressed I was about to get. I'm bad at the best of times, but because I'm now 26 and have not yet been for a smear test (because of my stupid phobia), the fear and worry has built up to an unbearable level. Couple that with the 'Jade Goody' effect, and there you have a recipe for Tabby panic. As much as I tried to remain calm (because it's kind of embarrassing falling to pieces in front of a complete stranger over something so standard that every woman must do) I still ended up having a mini panic attack. while the procedure was being done, and then I was nearly sick after.

It's so frustrating because my rational mind knows I am being silly, but I can't control the panic that washes over me when ever I go to the doctors. The main thing is I did it! It's done. Now I just need to wait 6 weeks for the results, which I'm nervous about as I should have gone a year ago. But the main thing is it's done.

After all this drama I'm feeling kind of fragile, and what better way to calm myself down than a spot of retail therapy. Yes I know I probably need a different kind of therapy, but this is cheaper and prettier.

So I've treated myself to a few bits and bobs from TOPSHOP online, all from the comfort of my desk at work:



Grey linen blazer - £40. I have been flirting with this jacket for about two weeks now, never quite justifying it to myself. But after this week I think I deserve it!



And then I just couldn't resist this rose print vest top - £20. It will go perfectly with the grey linen blazer and some skinny jeans. I love the muted tones, will go well with a lot of the neutrals I plan to wear this summer.

I feel much more relaxed now.

Oh, and do you remember the tribal style gladiator sandals I ordered last week? They arrived yesterday, and they look amazing! I'm feeling really exited for summer now. :o)

Finally, a night out on the tiles

I have just had the best weekend with the girls. My best friends, the girls I went to Ibiza with, came down from Birmingham for the weekend and we went to Fabric to see minimal techno genius Ricardo Villalobos play. It was the first night we had all been out together since Ibiza, and happily the night was a much bigger success than the disaster that was Sophie's birthday, back in November.

Fabric is an amazing club if you are into your electronic music. The main room has a crystal clear sound system, with speakers underneath the dance floor that send the beats vibrating through your whole body as you dance. I was back in Ibiza for the night, it was amazing to just let my hair down and forget about everything for those few hours. And even though Fabric is a pretty underground club, it is still a good excuse to get dressed up. I wore a super short leopard print tunic over some leggings, leaving the high heels safely in my wardrobe for the night to enable maximum dancing ability. My best friend Lacey is a make-up artist for MAC, so we all had fabulous MAC eyes going on. I even had the Ibiza bouffant recreated which is H's specialty and I can never seem to do myself.



Highlight of the night was hearing Villalobos play the opening beats of this tune at about 6am, us all screaming with excitement and getting my phone out to record a bit, so we would be able to remember the next day, and track down its name. This took us about two hours of ringing everyone we thought might know the answer on Sunday, and singing 'doob doob doob doooob' down the phone to them in our inebriated state. It was like an itch that was impossible to scratch. Thankfully we eventually found out the tune is Saturate, by the Chemical Brothers. And I think this has become the new anthem for our friendship.

And on a final note, turns out the Frenchman is into his music just like me, as he and his friends also had tickets for that very same night. Thank heavens he is not into rock. Oh, and forgot to mention... the other night with him went very well indeed thank you!

Retail therapy

I treated myself to these today. £40 from TOPSHOP. I love them one minute, but then feel slightly undecided. I think I will have to wait for them to arrive, to see them on my feet. I lived in my brown leather gladiators last summer, and they are still intact, but I fancy something that's abit more of a statement now.

I think my main reasons for indescision over them is that fact they are mainly black, and being a redhead when I'm not fake tanned I'm very pale skinned indeed. Black shoes on pale feet is not flattering. I ususally stick to golds and browns for my sandals which are much more flattering for my skintone.

Of course, during the summer I am pretty much fake tanned constantly, but still the thought of black leather against my white feet is not attractive. I REALLY LOVE THE SHOES THOUGH.

Another French dating attempt

So me and the Frenchman have loosely arranged to go for a drink tomorrow. I should be getting myself organised, planning an outfit and tidying up, but I'm feeling rather un-fussed as I don't feel like it is ever going to happen.

He is always so last minute with arranging plans, I will hear nothing for days and then receive a text inviting me somewhere that same evening - which I can never make as I have a busy life and need some warning to go on a date! Or we loosly plan to do something and it doesn't happen due to other plans getting in the way, such as on the tray roasted cat night.

The last time he text me, inviting me somewhere last minute, my housemate forced me to go even though I was hungover and unprepared. Big mistake. I ended up in a compromising position, wanting to be in an even more compromising position but being unable to facilitate this due to unshaven legs. Exactly why I need more than an hour's notice to meet up.

Also we have the problem of the language barrier. He never understands what I'm saying on texts, and I never understand what he is saying to me face to face. Well I do, but I am concentrating so much and trying to say things simply that I never seem to relax into conversation. But then there is normally loads of people around us, so maybe that would be easier if we were on a date.

God knows.

Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to get the fake tan on the go. Just in case...