Trotted off to my morning spray tan. The shop actually opened up early for me, yet i’m not sure i needed them to, as i rolled out of bed an hour too late, glued a pair of giant eyelashes on and waddled to the Ultimate spray tan parlour, through a bus station, as 8o year old grandads glared at me for being ethnic. (Wait a second Pete’s kitten is clawing my black bra that i flung on the floor last night! For some reason it has feathers on it. God, i hate buying gifts for people that end up ruining MY LIFE!!!)
Anyhow, my little dollops of sexuality. I am feeling full on ‘swaggalicious’ today. There’s no stopping me. I’m a hip/hop handing, booty shaking, limp in my walk DIVA much! Not only have i merrily danced around my kitchen like a gangsta ‘you know it.’ But i have also forced my *bump* to enjoy the same experience. I’m trying to give her great taste in music. Apparently she can hear now, therefore i’m smoothing on the moves for her, so that she can use her diamond dripping champion-like swiggedy, to get whatever she wants in life. Like ‘Mama.’ Mmmkaaay!
Now, we all know i love a bit of the old Hip hop and quite fancy myself as a ‘hip/hop wife.‘ As in the wife of Pharell Williams…who struts around all powerfully,with a smile and a ‘wish you were me ‘sign. (TRAGICAL! I WILL get over myself, i promise. But i’m fat right now, due to preggoness.. so let me be cocky! Infact, ‘cocky‘ is what got me into this rather lovely, best time ever…mess. *Reaches for her JLAgain, i don’t now why i’m made this way. All brillaintly egotiscal and far too cool. But just anything that promotes a fairytale bit of over the top extravagance, glamour, fabulousity, with a diamond encrusted, playful swagga. I simply ADORE!!! I’m loving every delicious moment of life right now.
Had a GREAT day at work. You know when you’re pretending you’re really busy and have a diamante bracelett on. But you really aren’t doing too much to save the jolly old world, except for looking quite the kitten of desire. (I really need to pull myself together. This being ‘preggo’ malarky is making me look like a lazy, pie-eating scrub-fest. I’m excited for my early morning spray tan tomorrow. It’ll make me feel delicious again and fool me into believing that i don’t have a gigantic belly attached to my front. Lol. I am excited ofcourse for the ‘treasure’ that’s about to squidge it’s merry way out of my vagina, in approximately 2 months time. Yet, i’m not going to lie. I truely need to learn to embrace the *bumpage.* When you’re 7 and a half months ‘oven bunned’ you really begin to think that you’ll always just have a *bump* and you forget that you will actually have a baby, instead of it. Is that just me? Great! Right! Okay!
Anyway, last night…when i talked to that posh, old, random lady. The one that i adored. Well she told me that i needed to learn to be constructively selfish. I thought her bit of knowledge was quite decent.
Feeling great today! A bit excited really, to say i have a full day of work ahead of me. Must be the ‘no milk’ in my coffee thing that i’m having to do, due to inappropriate service…which for once hasn’t ended with a ‘happy ending.’ Okay, we didn’t actually WIN the jackpot, but we did actually WIN money. Therefore even though we can’t frolock with our new millions on yachts in France, we can still be happy with the moola that we DID WIN (woohoo) and put it on the Euromillions rollover for Friday! Terrible aren’t we! (I think i’m getting a really germy cough! AND there’s a bald guy racing around me telling me off for having too much coffee….because it’s ‘bad for me.’ He’s also pointing at my friends ‘without milk’ cereal and claiming that that’s unheathly also. All this pointing and moaning would be alright, if he wasn’t addicted to M-Cap. Lol. Maybe he needs to take a looky at the giant health pie chart and really re-evaluate what most regard as ‘yummy goodness.‘ HAHA. I love how he goes around pointing at good clean, non druggy foods and giving everyone a lecture on how bad it is for our system. Maybe he’s just against us consuming legal substances! (‘If it’s not on the Class A list it’s rubbish!’) Love it!! I once had a roomate like that. A proper musclebound health freak. Yet never ate food, because it was evil and only ate…crystal meth.
Anyway, other than all that, i’m loving my friends today. I’ve managed to book a spray tan. I accidentally booked Loverboy one, and just this second called him to ask him if ‘a 9.15am slot was alright?‘ He thought my call, was his actual alarm and *shocked* himself up in a panic, whilst rummaging through sheets for his phone. I can’t think of anything worse than having to be woken up in terror, during a deep much needed sleep and hearing my nasal voice on the other end, at Volume 10, asking if a 9.15am spray tan would work. He sort of calmly, but nicely shunned the idea and simply because…he’s half BLACK.
Yesterday, i must have eaten something dodgy because i have the runs. I’m in a weird little predicament really, where i can tell if my belly hurts because my baby inside it, is somersaulting around, or if i just need a poo. I’ve never had the bambino kick as much as she has today…and all of last night. Then i noticed that after i Tweeted that i had the runs. A yucky ‘being’ told me i had ‘no life’ and thought he was all brave and funny. Well yeah, you are behind a computer screen doll face. If you were infront of me my ‘Va voom’ alone could whoop ur booty. Bottom line, i can tweet whatever i want, whenever i want. Plus, i’d never tweet that to someone i didn’t actually know..surely that’s a tweet that you save for your closest friends. Here I am juggling future Motherhood, a showbizzy career, a company, my love life and my normal day job, whilst finishing my book, and writing my blog. I’m like some kind of kitty genius..AND i’m doing it all with a *wink.* I’m keeping everything a float and making my world happen, then a moody ‘yawn fest’ from Twittersville, tells me that i simply have ‘no life’ because with all of the above, i have the runs! Haha. Life is Greatness! I did see the funny side to it all, because i’m not an utter dick of headary. Yet no that more people should spread playful happiness then a passed parcel of ‘hate.’ I’m all for speaking ya mind. But say things passionately and not just for a bit of ‘Look at me.’
What i will remind you all of, is the fact that no matter what anyone says YOU ALL have a life. A GREAT One of deliciousness. Infact, it truely is ALL we have that is just ours. I believe in fate…yes. However, know that you can meander your meaty chunk of ’100 years’ whichever way you want it…regardless as to whatever ever the party poopers say. Also remember that it’s always the people doing shitter than you in their life that comment on YOUR life negatively, for no real reason. ‘When people hate you for no reason. You KNOW you are the best!’
Luckily, i got saved by a Tweet of marvel, from a ‘Deeva’ much friend of mine, who i adore mucho much. They reminded me of my priorities and told me that when a Glamour Puss reaches the pretty stage of boredom, the best thing to do is begin stalking ‘One Direction.’ I do miss my ‘stalky’ days of utter hilarity…in glitter and UV rooms. I actually love ‘One Direction,’ and simply because not only is one from my hometown of Doncaster and they’ve had a dream come true. But they’re also like boozy minatures. Like those tiny bottles of gin, vodka and whisky you can get at petrol stations for just over a quid. Obviously, those little ‘handsomes’ are worth a tad million pounds more. However, they’ll always be my little minatures. Now, i’m older, i don’t even enjoy stalking anymore. What has become of me!! UGH!!!
Oh and quickly, oddly i’ve been recieving a jolly few messages about my hatred for pork pies. Now i like pork and i thoroughly enjoy pies. I even adore the combination of the two. HOWEVER, what i don’t like about a pork pie, making me despise them, is the fact that the pork, NEVER fits the PIE! It doesn’t work and like my fear of sausage dogs…i simply need to stay away from them. I don’t like a loose fit. I like accurate measurements of all of life’s goodies.
If i one day marry Loveboy. (Yes we are having our baby in sin.) I will have inherited a younger sister in law, who once poured bubble mixture, all over the smooth kitchen counter, removed all of her clothing and was later found swimming in it..well on it…well…I LOVE IT!!! HAHAHA. I will say that this was actually when she was younger and she was actually also found climbing onto of a work surface and caught drinking cups of fish bowl water, out of the fish bowl. I swear, it’s the act of pure loopy genius! Perfect family for a Wunna to nestle in. It can’t GET better than that!
Pete and I have our first ever photoshoot with each other at the weekend. I’m excited. He’s nervous, yet secretly loves it. I found myself having a 40 minute long conversation with an old posh lady last night, who wanted to help me with my pregnancy, by passing on her knowledge. I don’t know her at all. But i loved her. I feel greatly comforted around older posh women. I don’t know why? I just feel warm around them and filled with a cuddle of life knowledge. It embraces me. Infact, she told me that she also used to be a ‘teeth and boobs’ model. I adore how non-judgemental old posh women are. All open, warm and wise. People are under the misconeption that they’ll commit to utter snobbery. Yet each one i’ve randomly found myself talking to has nodded at me with approval. I love talking to strangers. Luckily none of them have waltzed me to a cellar.
Just got home and was feeling rather stressed, after quite a lovely, calm morning. I was being nagged by a boy who wanted me to give him one of my phones and i despise ‘naggers.‘ They never win with Chrissie Wunna. I’ll absorb their naggerooing and then quite merrily just say ‘No.’ Infact, my not giving in, annoyed him so much, that he began smoking again, after quitting for Xmas! Woohoo! He wanted a phone and he’s unfortunately had to leave the mental battle, with NO PHONE (lol) and an addiction. It’s how i roll…and all that jazz. Luckily, coming home, then hating on pork pies and men who park their car too close to my car door deliberately whilst i’m preggo, meaning that i am unable to *squeeze* out between the inappropriate for my size gappage..has made me feel better. Well that’s a lie. I’ve always hated pork pies and rude men. Talking to everyone on Twitter and replying to my Tweets, after a long work day is actually what made me perk up a little. I’m no longer stressed. I’ve shaken it off, with a Tweet and a wink. When i feel like i’m free and inspiring others. It mends everything. It’s not the nagging that annoys me. It’s the feeling trapped by it, that winds me up. (I think i’ll make an Oolong tea…before i write the rest.) I tweeted whilst being on the loo today. Glamour, Glamour, Puss, Puss! I had my pants by my ankles, diamonds in my ears and my Blackberry Torch out, as i commited to a giant Preggo wee, in a gym toilets. I’m quite positive that this is the reason, why i must have my own show. *Calls ITV2- Gets rejected.*
Anyway, a great deal has happened today. I’ve been at work ALL day and well incase you didn’t know my current daily surroundings consist of ‘Lucy’..who finds hair in her tuna and gets really ill from it. I watched her carefully poke her way through her salad cautiously, as i munched on a bacon sandwich. To my right, was Rebecca…who is 19, has plum coloured hair and was ill today. Rebecca and I actually went to the same school as each other. (But i’m an unfortunate decade older.) Today she told me that when she’s ill,everybodies got to be really ‘awwwww’ with her, or she gets upset! (Hah. I love that. I believe she’s a Glamour puss in the making.) I’m tango more along the lines off, if i’m in a little bit of toruble or a little bit ill. I want MAJOR sympathy. But if i’m in BIG trouble or a whole LOT of ill. I’ll pretend i’m utterly fine, like a a giant sexy idiot, tottering around like nothing is wrong. Yet suffering in silence with every high heeled *strut* forward. I’ve a kitty cat that has been through a great deal emotionally, so it’s bizarre that i’d be such a twat over it really. When you’re down, know that someone somewhere really does have it a lot worst than you and really might not have the same heave of strength that you have a burning on the inside!
The other people i have around me on a daily, respond to the names of ‘Claire’ who i adore simply because she’s a ‘tell it how it is‘ kinda gal, who is a total secret romantic and wears ‘slut‘ spectacles and has apparent ‘shoes for sex.‘ LOVE HER immensely. I don’t even have shoes for sex and i’m a floo-to-tha-ooozy. I think Claire’s sort of tough, but gentle all at the same time. I like it…a lot. Then there’s Laura, who is ‘Barbie.’ Today we watched Beyonce toss her golden sequinned booty around, on a telly, as we opened mouthed glared in awe and also as her soon to be brother in law, grumbled on about how that will never be us by plant pots! To all you kittens out there who hear the ‘that’ll never be you’ nonsense from a being behind a plant pot, KNOW that you can be ANYTHING. I’ve proved it and watched dreams come true, for both me and my loved ones! Magical. Really believe you can do ANYTHING and you WILL!
I’m tanning and hating that i let myself get this pastey. I’m one who enjoys the disgusting habit of vanity. HOWEVER sinc i’ve been ‘preggo’ i really haven’t been bothered to pander to my usual routine of ‘ohh laa.‘ Now…i hate myself for it. I can’t tell if i’m growing up and loving me how i naturally am. Or whether being ‘preggo’ has lazied me up. Yeah, i got my nails hot pinked today. But i looked at myself, saw how pastey i looked. ( I’m used to the living in Hollywood thang, where i’m always a yummy caramel colour of deliciousness and simply because i’m the kinda floozy who adores to play in the sun.) I weirdly thought i was naturally that tanned. But i’m not. I’m as white as snow. Therefore, inspired by a bit of schloer and Kerry Katona (she’s on my telly and tanned in
Feeling much better today. Getting up and going to work isn’t as diffioso as it was yesterday. Last night, i had one of those pointless barneys with Loverboy. One where i decided to bicker because i’m tired and he dismisses the conversation, by blanking my moodiness and filing it under ‘I’m not going to talk to you, if you’re going to be mean annoying for no real reason.’ ( I kept calling him immature…when really i was as immature as can be. I sometimes hate it when he won’t argue with me. Often being too passive can be annoying to a Wunna. I wanted passion and not a simple, ‘i’m too mature and sane to argue with you, because i love you.’ UGH!Boo to the good kind of mature, sane, love! Being stable and feeling safe with a boy who adores me endlessly, is something i’m not used to. I’m still learning but secretly loving it.
We had just got back from the hospital after visiting his grandma on Ward F at Pinderfields. A ward filled with old ladies, well into their 80′s (I do mean 80′s as in ‘years old’ and not as in ‘side pony, blue and pink eyeshadow and Wham on in the background.’) I had never seen anything so heart breaking. I walked passed a stream of beds, each with a broken boned elderly lady laid in it, asking for help, with their eyes. They looked so helpless and drained. I smiled, i ‘Hello’d’ and then this weird ‘ooze‘ of awfulness surged through me and i just had to kinda of nervously, yet politely do a ‘head down happily’ saunter…with a smile by each bed swiftly. (Code for: I rudely ignored everyone.) If i was honest, i thought that the grannies that we’re ‘not all there,’ a bit fruity and drugged up, would shout something abusive or racist at Pete & I… so i scurried past in my fur. (I’m just being told that my friend ‘Personal trainer Matt’ dreamt that he had a threesome with me and Alexandra Burke last night. Apparently, she wouldn’t kiss him, yet I was my delicious ‘up for it’ WHOREY self….and with a preggo belly. He is also saying ‘It’s not like i go home and think about you all the time Chrissie!’ We all know he has a Wunna shrine.)
Apart from all that, ‘Ross‘ feels ill from eating a ‘mucky kebab.’ Him feeling sick has NOTHING to do with booze, drugs or swagga….just a mucky kebab…that he snorted. ‘Matt’ has travelled to work from London this morning and managed to WIN £40 on scratch cards today!! He also held his mouth up to my ear whilst consuming a Terry’s Chocolate Orange choccie. Claire has recieved slutty secretary glasses from santa and is slowly sauntering around looking far too delicious for her own good, whilst bending over photocopying machines and pouting whenever possible, with her ‘wish i had it’ bum. And Lucy, Bex & I have had our nails done. You can tell a great deal about a girl by what she chooses to do with her nails. All of us went with extensions, fakery and sparkle. Meaning we’re girls that like MORE, have a front and do it in glitter. Bex’s nails are Black with glitter upon them. Lucy went with Purply Glitter tips and i ofcourse went with HOT PINK slag nails, WITH silver glitter ontop! They almost glow in the dark!
Then we talked about how horny our boyfriends are. Lucy’s ‘handsome’ is one who doesn’t enjoy too much of the good old sexytime. Bex’s ‘handsome’ is horny ALL of the time. Loverboy, is mixed raced so when we do indulge in a bit of *rumpy pumpy* it’s dirty. We have ethnic sex…as i like to call it. However, we haven’t been too sexually active during my preggoness and simply down to the fact that i don’t find myself sexy when rubbing my father Christmas belly. (‘Oooh do you like it like that Big Boy.’ KILL ME) Weird though because even though we not having as much ‘panky’ he’s still managed to give me groinal itchies. *Wink-Pout* Delicious!
Okay, i’m going before i think i’m being funny when i’m really just being smutty! Pete and I have made up even though i was still evil to him, for no reason this morning, whilst buying last minute contact lenses in Wakefield, after i was FORCED to sleep in yesterdays pair. Waking up being able to see is horredous! He thought i was grumpy because i had no food in my system as he bought a River Island hat. Instead of hating me for being a grumbling little doll factory, he dropped his Glamour Puss off at work and then came back 10 minutes later with a bag filled with Preggo foddie like treats. Awww…! You can’t be mean to a ‘Handsome’ like that. I adore him for doing everything right..but only when i don’t expect him too. (Infact, when i’m mean to him, he wakes up and starts being romantic. Learn it girls!)
Okay, really this time i’m off…with my hotpink, glittered nails! I love you. I can’t breathe properly through my nose and i’m emailing a gent who is wrongly using my images to promote himself and his little sex trade industry! Disgusting!
Having one of those really boring days, that can’t be helped. One of those little days where you’re trying your absolute hardest to stay awake, when all you need is to feel the air on your face or to be tucked up in bed, in snugglies, comfort food and a ‘handsome.’ (Infact, i’ve just recieved a text from a gay friend of mine, who’s boyfriend decided to change his sexual preference during the festive holiday! He cheated on him with a GIRL. Like i always say you never know what’s going on behind each and every beings four walls. Behind mine was utter merriment and starry hopes for the future. Behind my friends was heartache. I really feel for him…and because i’ve been through my share if ’achey breaky.’)
If i’m being honest work has actually been great today. (I’ve stopped being bored. Didn’t take long.) I’ve had actual ‘girl time’ and being the Ultimate of ‘doll factory,’ it’s kinda nice to spend time with just the girls. I’ve had Lucy do my hair, i’ve gotten Lisa all excited about drinking in London and we’ve had a good old gossip about love, life, famous people and goodges. Time has flown and now i feel delicious. I’m done in half an hour now!
It’s been one of those days were all i’ve wanted is a spray tan, a weave fitted and my nails doing, after a massage..with a lovely dinner for two. Being a living doll isn’t as bad as people think. I really hope the rest of the work week pans out as wonderful of today.
Loverboy’s picking me up in 30mins and we’re going to Pinderfields to visit his grandma in hospital. I really fancy a slap up meal and a cuddly night of flirty flirty. I like to keep my relationships flirty. It brings them to life and we all hate a mundane dull marathon of ‘i think we’re in love!’ Anyway, i better pack up and get ready to get going! I can’t believe that i’m going to be a mummy in Feb! I’m in that bizarre stage where i’m questioning how it will change my life and what sort of mother i’m going to be? Pete keeps changing the baby name on me…so i’ve been looking up what each choice means. (I really do think we grow into the names we’re given.) If we’re not going to name her after my favourite booze then i really do need to process the meaning of Pete’s choice of girly ’label.’ I mean, it has to be Greatness and filled with kitty cat stardom. This little girl will be MY daughter. I can’t have her named anything remotely normal. It has to have that essential Wunna ‘va voom.’
Other than than, it’s almost home time. Quiet day for this lil’ pussycat really. I’ve been emailed by a gent in Hollywood, who i’ve known forever. I refer to him as my ‘showbiz mum’ and well he’s forwarding an agreement to beable to screenplay my life…which i love very mucho. Oh and i’ve just found out that one of my exes, who used to be a massive dealer of recreational vices (which i am properly against) is now a multi- millionaire. Crap like that always happens to me. Yet he is crippled now, which is rather unfortunate! I seem to date boys when they’re poor and when i dump them…they become millionaires! However, I have noticed that the ones that dump ME, really do end up with a life of utter *sad face.* It’s because they have toyed with hurting a Glamour puss. It’s against the karmic law of lucky ducky! Be warned! We’re the playful kittens of girly love. We mean no-one any harm, therefore if you bruise one…you’re in big ‘life will come and get you’ kinda trouble.
I’m working all day today! I’m sitting next to a ‘Lucy’ who is seemingly hungover by a kettle, after flicking a girl int he head the evening before and a ‘Lisa’ who enjoys to stand in doorways with a sore kareoke throat. Don’t think i didn’t have a sausage McMuffin this morning. I’m running on coffee and simply because i couldn’t for the entire life of me get up this morning. I set my alarm for 7am. (Quite optimistic choice of time really.) I went for the ‘fuck it’ option and rose from my snugglies at 8.11am. Infact, that’s a lie. I saw 8.11am and again went with the ‘aaah fuck it’ option and like the little dolly that i am, nudged Loverboy expecting HIM to get up for me, only to here him lift his head and say, ‘But where’s the football??‘ WTF!! I don’t enjoy nonsense, when i need others to get up. The only acceptable nonsense is by moi! I actually really thought i absoluetly would no way beable to get up this morning for my day of work. Yet now i’m up, here and coffeed…it really isn’t too bad. I’m loving it. (Yet i could be delirious? Plus everyone around me are talking about how drunk they got and willies, which makes little sober me jealous. Tinsel really isn’t as fun when sober. It’s the person gyrating in it, that matters. *Wishes she had wine.* )
Anyway, i’m knackered because i stayed up to watch ‘Real Housewives’ last night. It didn’t come on and in it’s place was a man named ‘Alan’ dressed up as a woman, singing about the Marriot hotel. I was laid on Loverboy who was laid on my *bump* (kinda like an ethnic game of Lazy Twister) and i found myself getting all into the whole Bob Geldof ‘Live Aid’ story. It made me want to save the world for a good few minutes. I mean, if he can pull that off in 12 weeks ( i can pull a lot more off in less time *wink-pout*) then anyone can do anything. It inspired me, whilst i mouthed tablespoons of Ben & Jerry’s (Cherry Garcia.) All anything takes is balls, guts, passion, determination and energy. I have ALL of that…plus boobies. I really am going to conquer this world! I can’t wait to have my bambino and get back to showing off. (Helloo entertainment, i’ve missed you. Which reminds me, i really need to finish my book!)
I’ve noticed that a lot of people dream of doing things, yet never do them. Now Crimbo is over and we’re in that limbo stage of resteroo, before we mosey into 2011, in streamers. It’s probably a good time to get your cunning plan of victory written down. When i was a wee one. A little Burmese girl from Yorkshire. All i wanted was to go to Hollywood, do entertainment and marry a movie star. The only difference between me and the girl next door with a dream, is that i had the guts (and mild stupidity) to do it. If you have a dream, all you need in order to make your come true is to DO IT and DO IT before you manage to talk yourself out of it. Fearlessness and the powerful ability to NOT care what others may think of you is all that matters. (I’m accidentally being all ‘preacher’ much again aren’t i. The coffee must be kicking in. But really…it’s not. I feel like i have a lazy left eye this morning. I’m like Lisa left eye lopez…but lazy.)
Can’t think of anything else to tell you other than the fact that LOVERBOY (who fancies himself as a bit of an artist) tried to DRAW me the other night whilst..(OMG i’ve just got up and TRIPPED over my own laptop cable and fallen into a Lost property box!! Worst preggo ever!) Anyway, yeah…whilst i was asleep Pete grabs a pen and paper and draws me. Then all proud of himself, he nudges me up, puts this bit of white paper in my face, points at a pen sketched face of me and tells me i’m beautiful.
I LOOKED LIKE A FRICKING MAN on it! A MAN! Infact, i couldn’t tell if it was a tranny version of me..which i really don’t mind too much, as i’ve been called that on numerous occasions and they do have great eyelashes. But a MAN is really quite worrying. Now most people get woken up and asked if they would like a gentle cup of tea. I get woken up, by an excited male and have a pen sketch of myself, making me look like a MAN… shoved too close to my face! AND i was grey and white leopard print pyjamas, that he’s now shrunk from over tumble drying. I look like a nursery rhyme character in it. My pyjama top is now like a belly top.
Now, i’ve been drawn a lot by a couple of people around the world and they have done almost impossibly accurate sketches of me. Plus..for those of you who didn’t know, i’m quite good at a bit of art! I got an art scholarship into school and everything. Go me. I don’t know whether i was just grumpy from being woken up and having a phone camera light *flashed* in my face every three seconds, by the Father of my *bump* or whether i was deeply insulted with his drawing of me. But i sure as HELL woke up, looked at the picture and then yelled at him for being rubbish, worthless and not as good as me! LOl. I’m awful! (We did laugh about it.) He loves his drawing soo much that he has it on his phone as a screensaver and showed each member of his immediate family around a dinner table. (‘Do you think this looks like Chrissie?‘) Every single one of them politely *paused* an then said ‘NO NOT AT ALL PETE!’
Although i’m really tired and not yet awake, i’m actually blissed over with a delicious *ooze* of excitment. I’m having one of those moments where i really think wonderful things are going to bless my future. I’m just one of those kitty cats that was born under really lucky stars. After today i’ve run out of contact lenses. UGH! I should’ve gone this morning and got some!
Use this time of limbo wisely. ‘Lisa’ has static trousers and i have a human in my uterus. My life. My way. Loving it! x
Well helllooo Boxing day! If you’re from a rather more exotic land and you are unaware of the term ‘Boxing day’ know that i’m simply referring to the day after Christmas, where i woek up topless, with a beautiful ‘updo’ that would suggest i was either a QUEEN or a bridesmaid, littered with clipped in flowers of gold, with my mixed raced ’Handsome’ to my left and my bra (black one) hanging off my phone charger that was seemingly plugged into the wall.
Usually when this happens, i’ve had some kind of totally worthy night, that most would file under ‘sin’..yet I being the Ultimate Glamour Puss of ‘ooh laa‘ and cheeky chappy elbows, would file under ‘good clean times..‘ HOWEVER, i really just had a nice Christmas day in fur with my family and Loverboy’s family. All warm, calm, happy and filled with love, via turkey. (This is the first Crimbo i’ve attempted sober in a very loong time. Luckily, i LOVED it but probably because i got gifts!)
Okay, so yeah ofcourse i’ll wish you all a very merry xmas (even though it’s now technically *popped* and packed away,) as i truely hope the good old man in the red suit squeezed his way down your chimney and dropped of a few goodies that brought a happy smile to your face. The kind that makes your eyes smile and your heart flutter. If you didn’t enjoy such excitement…i hope you had rum. But i will say that more than anything this year, aside from the time i’ve had with my family, i’ve thoroughly enjoyed my FOUR entire days off work!!!!! I’ve LOVED IT! Infact, i could get used to it, loved it. The only problem is that i also enjoy the moola that comes with the ‘going to work’ thing, (the root of all evil..which makes us believe we can’t survive without it..when we really can, as it’s not what life is AT ALL about. Love, happiness and the relationships you have with people are the only thing that truely matters! Money just seems to make the journey easier in the world that we have been made to live in. You only do LIVE once and regardless rich or poor…you WILL die at the end of it all…therefore making sure you have a jolly old time, doing whatever makes you happy, is the key factor to it all. The people who judge you are simply the people who don’t see life for what it really is!)
I love how i went off on a tragic ‘save the world’ ramble then. Forgive me. I’m a floozy. Okay, a great deal has happened, meaning i can for the life of me indulge in the itty bitty detail of it all.
I feel amazing! You do not even know how ace it feels to beable to enjoy a delicious lay in, with your ‘Handsome,’ look at your phone clock and realize that it’s 9.50am and you don’t actually have to be at work! Woohoo! I am thoroughly enjoying my Xmas off and to mark the occasion i am tending to a lush Christmas pamper of ‘Glamour pussness.’ I’m draped in diamonds, pearls, with a rather dolly curled ‘updo’…i’m preggo so i unfortunately keep realizing i have the body of a Father Christmas. However, whatever…i feel YUMMY! How YOU feel, is all that matters! My body feels like it’s finally allowed to chillax and calm down, due to the assurance that i have no work for 4 days! FOUR DAYs! Mocktails for everyone!! Therefore i’m going to decorate myself in streamers, get the piece of glitter that i have still in my contact lens OUT (i’m still seeing life through the eyes of what seems like a disco ball) and not only am i going to get my nails done…but i am also going to indulge in a spray tan and a massage.
I’m currently at Loverboys. He’s away teaching my brother to drive, as i sort my vagina problem out (all done now, by the way) and i fall around his kitchen, on garlic skins. Don’t ask! I intended on washing the dishes up. On my way to the sink, whilst i had quite an unfortunate merry skip a going, i skidded on one of the dangly balls on my eskimo fur boots, then onto a garlic peel, then into the splits *screaming*...whilst holding my *bump.* I think i may have sworn a bit too. But only something like ‘AAAAH FUCKING BA