Erm..everyone keeps calling me ‘orange.’ I’ll have you know, that i simply ADORE the result of my once a week spray tan..(yes I DO have matching spray tan day with my very handsome-even though he’s just puked in my downstairs toilet-Keiran.) I try to venture to The suntan centre in Pontefract at least once a week now, to get those ever so delicious, fake bake tan lines. I’m not one to attempt to look like i’ve been onced over in Tippex, then rolled around in flour. My spray tan is yummy..so you can kiss mylittle glitzy orange arse.
Other than that, i’ve been working it, owning it and unfortunately buying washing machines. I cannot AT ALL, think of a more BORING thing in this entire world to buy, than a fucking washing machine. When you have no interest in something..the spending money part of the whole tangoo, be it a boy, a girl, a hobby, a bill or a washer-frickin-dryer…is CRAP. But whatever, at least i’ll finally have clean pants and i won’t have to keep on buying new, or scrubbing my own gusset in the sink..even if they are polka dotted.
Worked all day. Loved it. Couldn’t at all fit into my trousers, but pretended i could. Over the weekend i’d been out around Wakefield with my ‘handsome’..after meeting Ruth for a gin and before realizing that everyone in Wakey on a Friday is either on drugs or chavtastic. People kept weirdly stopping me and Keiran, attemtping a really drunk convo with us, that began ‘Oh hey mate…i haven’t seen you in ages’ and ended ‘does your girlfriend have any chick friends i can date?’ It was the same convo, different face each time. Keirans showing me more love than ever right now. (I mean a lot of things were said to each other, as we cuddled in bed, the other morning. It’s made me feel loved and secure. Yet bizarrely made him feel quite the opposite? He’s on my sofa right now, being ill. It’s awful when the people you adore are all sicky. I think i need to reassure him that i love him, especially because it seems he’s feeling down right now.)
Infact, BOTH my little baby Ruby and my ‘handsome’ Keiran are ill right now. I have Ruby puking at nursery. Keiran puking in my toilet and here i am in my baby pink dressing gown, and boobs, having a Baileys by a Christmas tree.
I sat opposite a boy on the early morning train to Leeds, who was reading a bright yellow book on ‘social media.’ He kinda looked up at me like he didn’t like my orange face and pink lippied pout too much…even though i was totally working office wear. I smiled. He didn’t…and yeah, that was the end of that little moment. (If i was Gay Adam…he would’ve have counted that as a relationship. ) I’m looking at my ring! (The one on my finger, not bum.) I LOVE IT. I finally feel all stable, loved and happy. I love that Keiran loves me. I mean if i ever did love a boy…it’s probably now and with him. We’ve done really well in the time we’ve been together. 12 weeks. I feel like i’ve been with him for years!
Anyway, my pink robe can only go so far. I don’t have time to blog the rest of life out. I’ll have to do it tomorrow. I’ve run out of Bailey’s. I’m off to guzzle more, then it’s head off to bed time, for another early start to my day. I’m not a morning person. I can’t even open my eyes in the morning..which in your world might be okay, but in my world is quite tedious, when you already have tight slanty eyes and giant fake lash central upon them.
FYI, I have the best Crimbo tree EVER. Be very jealous.