Thursday, 28 April 2011

Royal Wedding Preparations

I've ironed my vintage inspired cherry blossom cotton pyjamas;

I've cleaned my leather shoes, handbag and washbag.

I've grown into my racist haircut which I've now decided is much more Salt N' Pepa than National Front.

I've given myself a lip and chin wax.

Hair dyed.

The home made honey, oat and prune mask has been applied (twice)

The eyebrows are plucked - legs and armpits shaved.

I've run a cool iron over my original 1953 Queen Elizabeth Coronation Scarf.

My Kate and Wills dirt cheap bunting is packed alongside my Rose Cava and my English breakfast tea bags.

Commemorative mugs packed.

Manicure done. Nails already chipped.

Outfit dry-cleaned, I've shined my trusty Kurt Geigers and dusted off my passport.

You'd be forgiven for thinking that I had a bloody invite to Buckingham Palace but no - I'm going one better. Off to a wedding in Dublin where the 'Royal Wedding' will be virtually imperceptible as it is happening in another country. Not a massive fan of the Royals, its the perfect plan for the woman who wants to pretend its not happening.

There is one massive flaw in my plan. Cupcake, the sentimental, weepy Royalist is coming with me and she fully intends to torture me through every second of it.

Its a shame I don't know any drug dealers in Dublin as the only way I cam imagine surviving the whole sorry affair is to be very stoned.

I'm literally out of the door people!!!

I will be back from Dublin on Sunday and my next post will be 'in pictures'.

Like this one was.

Whatever you're doing this weekend. Enjoy!

Friday, 15 April 2011

Ukeleles and Racist haircuts

Can a haircut be racist?

I think mine just might be. Very skint and in need of a trim I set off to the Vidal Sasson Academy two days ago for a £12 haircut. They took almost every hair off my head and left me with a long bit at the front.  I look like I should be wearing a checked shirt, Doctor Marten boots and have a swallow tattooed on my neck. (i.e how racist women looked in the 80's - I tried to find a picture but I just ended uphaving to endure racist websites.....)

Shall we move on to Ukeleles?

Please go to this page and vote for my sister (Olivia Thompson) only if you are not a racist!

(Tip: You may have to click 'like' on the Ukelele festival of Great Britain page before you can click 'like' under her video)

Sorry its a short one today but tomorrow is my birthday - why that should shorten my blog post I'm not sure but its a great excuse for almost anything!

Monday, 11 April 2011

Baby Get Shot

Recently Bushman put a nail in one of our doors and hung a calendar on it. Why he didn't put the nail in the wall I'll never know. Anyway, this is supposed to aid the organisation in our household - shocking in itself as Bushman never organises or plans anything. Ever.

Despite this well meaning attempt at commitment visibility, it's not exactly going to plan.The trouble is that Bushman and I can barely communicate with spoken words and thus the written word poses even more problems. He doesn't seem to understand anything I write on the calendar.

"Wha dis?" he asks repeatedly for every entry for the month of April.

Even after I explain what I have written he asks why I feel the need to put it on a calendar. Like my parents' holiday dates, my cousin's dog going to the vets, etc. I have my reasons - does he really want to hear them?
On Saturday Vivienne Westwood came over for a bottle of wine and an over-salted dish of paella.

"What's this?" she says pointing to a scruffily written sentence on the calendar under April 19th.

I vaguely recognise Bushman's virtually illegible text, the result of too much time spent in the bush in Jamaica building camps and fires and not enough time at school. I squint my eyes, tilt my head and  eventually make out the words "Baby get shot"

Vivienne is utterly baffled. "What the hell does that mean?" she asks

"Well, although it seems to indicate that Bushman has taken out a contract on our youngest, I believe it actually refers to her next set of injections". I say.

Regular readers may recall the recent letter from the doctor regarding baby's lack of injections.....

The most important thing on the calendar at present is the Royal Wedding. Not because I really give two hoots about Wills and Kate but because we get an extra days holiday and I am going to be in Dublin with Cupcake at a friend's wedding. WITHOUT MY CHILDREN OR MY BUSHMAN. The excitement is almost unbearable. Three days and three nights with Bushman in sole charge of the kids.

Do I worry about what will happen when I'm not around to translate the calendar and keep a routine? No. They will all live. They will be dessed in mismatching clothing and eating cake for breakfast but they will live. Will I miss them?

I honestly have no idea.

I'll let you know.