hooray for skinny jeans

And not the kind of ones that you need to be a stick insect to wear either. You know, the ones my mom always says that if the wearer were to fart you'd see it. Left me to wonder many a time as a child if that means that farts come out as bubbles. But I (grossly) digress.

I'm rejoicing for the skinny jeans, the ones that you used to be able to wear before you got too fat. You know the ones I mean ;) I'm rejoicing cause today - just 2 days before jetting off for a two week beach holiday - I have managed to fit back into mine. They're from the "pre-boy days", about 2 years old now. And I can fit into them again! Hurrah and rejoicement!

It's funny things like this. I'm not psychologically inhibted as a fat girl (indeed boy will tell me off when he reads this as according to him I'm not fat). I'm not one of those people who lets their weight define them. I am comfortable with who I am and what I look like, and if someone has an issue with it, that's their fault. (Take note, the Amanda Platell's of the world - fat girls can be happy and sexy, far better this way than being a miserable and bitter skinny like yourself.) But I am trying to shift a little bit (more) weight just for me.

So to get back into my skinny jeans today was quite a moment for me. At last, all the deprivation (hah! given my now public donut habit!) and sit ups have paid off!

As a treat, boy rewarded me with a new (tres vampy) bathing suit for the aformentioned holiday...hurrah! What a man, what a bloody good man I have here.

Back in a few weeks with tales of Greece. In the meantime, someone feel free to get rid of pointless celebrities (David Blaine would be a good start) - they're starting to clutter up my trashy mags.

guilt's a funny ol' thing

So every morning when I come to work I walk through this wee 'passage', and have been known to stop at a cafe there. During a period of renovation (following a change of ownership) though my bus buddy and I discovered a new cafe just around the corner which sells divine cakes (none too helpful for the ol' spare tyre I've been sit-upping away at so hard).

Anyway, yesterday lunchtime my bus buddy and I (that sounds odd, as she is more than just someone I take the bus with now - we actually talk and stuff, like real friends, but anyway, to maintain her anonymity here, she will be termed my bus buddy as that's how it all began). Alas I digress. Yesterday my bus buddy and I had planned to go to this new cafe and get tea and donuts. Mmm donuts... Having raved about these donuts at work, I promised the guy next to me that I would bring him one back. But lo and behold, when we got there, there was nary a donut in sight. Fine for us, cause we could have something else (and I can now also recommend their apple danish, mm mm good) but I returned to the office empty-handed, and promised to get them this morning.

Which brings me round to the point of this morning's entry. When I got off the bus, I set off on my way and then it occured to me - if I were to go my usual route, I would have to go past my usual morning tea establishment, and the owner 1) knows me by name 2) tends to sit outside when he's not too busy. But the other way - well, I had started now.

So I continued, praying that this morning, my usual place would be busy. I got lucky. Lady luck struck again when I got to the new cafe and they had an array of donuts. (For the record, one choc ice ring for me, yum, and a jam one for my friend next to me.) And of course a tea ;)

On the way back, I got to a corner and could decide to go left, come round the far side of the office, or keep going straight (the way I tend to go). Habit won in the end, tempted though I was to go and see if the dead mouse was still in the drain, which bus bud had shown me yesterday. This is where I went wrong. As I went past the top of the passage, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the owner of my usual morning establishment sitting outside. Oh no! And I was blatantly holding a styrofoam cup from somewhere else. Oh no! Talk about caught red-handed. I bustled faster, praying that he wouldn't see me through the parked 4x4 (the first time I've ever been grateful for one of those beasts).

And I started to think - why should I feel guilty for buying my tea elsewhere? Surely it's better to keep my promise to my friend at work? (And you know, I quite fancied a donut too.) And then I thought some more - maybe I could persuade the new owner of my morning place to sell donuts (at present he does not) and maybe add peach tea to his selection so I can avoid this ridiculous guilt again.

luxury cars

Why are they called luxury cars? Is it because you have the luxury of knowing that no matter how much of an ass you drive like, you know people will avoid hitting you to save the expense?

That sounds awful. I generally make it a habit not to hit people when I drive - a habit which I am pleased to say I have never broken. A couple posts, yep (who puts a white post in front of a white wall that ends just under your windscreen I ask you?), the odd bush or two, sure, and even a few curbs. But, knock on wood, thus far I have avoided pedestrians, cyclists, other cars and buses, despite some notable attempts on the parts of others.

One of my biggest pet hates is people who don't indicate. It takes not even a second to whack your indicator on, yet can save so much damage. Having been in a car with a friend who promptly drove into the back of someone through a third driver's failure to indicate, maybe I notice this even more. And it makes me so angry. That time, the driver at fault drove off, unaware that his laziness had just caused an accident.

Yesterday I nearly ended up in an accident through someone's inability to indicate coupled with their stupidity over lane discipline on a roundabout. Let's refresh. To go left or straight over, you stay in the LEFT HAND lane. To go right (and sometimes straight, if it's a dual carriageway) you go in the RIGHT HAND lane. Easy, right?

Well clearly whomever was driving the black Jag I nearly drove into must've been sleeping the day he (yes, I saw the driver, it was a man) was taught about roundabouts. Otherwise:

1) he never would have pulled out as I was approaching;
2) he would have been indicating what direction he intended to take; and
3) he never would have been going right from the left hand lane, nearly causing me to go into the side of him as I was trying to leave the roundabout.

Fast braking and a good bit of horn action more than likely saved me, my lovely boyfriend and my wee car. And I know Mr "I'm-too-cool-for-school" wanker Jag knew what he was doing as, yes, he checked over his shoulder (which is how I know it was a he).

Raises some questions. Common sense dictates that, god forbid, had I hit him it would not have been my fault - I was indicating and in the right lane. He was in the wrong lane and apparently forgot how to indicate. But what would the insurance companies view on it be? Technically, my car was a bit behind him (having slowed after boy's nagging as he envisioned this happening) so my car would have been the one at the back, traditionally the driver who is deemed at fault. Being young and relatively skint (I survive dammit, and that's ok for me...for now), I couldn't afford for it to be challenged.

It angers me that this is not the first time that something like this has happened to me, but this time was definitely much closer than last time. Are people really that complacent about driving that they just don't care about the rules anymore?

It scares me more when I'm out on my scooter. I'm fine and in control. It's the other drivers that scare me. There seems to be an in-built notion that non-cars are second-class vehicles, as it were, and are ok to tailgate (like I can go any faster that 30mph at 50cc), undertake on roundabouts and on merging lanes. And yes, beeping your horn at me will of course magically make me drive faster. Moron.

Still avoiding the hairy topic of 4x4s...but know that you are on my list....

Update on mammary discrimination:

These comments from my best friend (who happens to be male)-

Do you think 'men' want women to 'drink a pint and eat meat' to please them?
Also do you really think that 'men' buy into Nuts and FHM magazines? Real men aren't confused we know whats real and whats not and dont buy into bullshit magazines like them.

This is why he is my best friend. He knows what is real, and what is not. I apologise to any men out there that I may have offended with my sweeping generalisation.

And badyogi, cheers for the tip on Gap pants. Will be checking the place out next time I need jeans...

On a separate note, just got back from seeing MI3 - much, much better than number 2. And note the strategic use of wind turbines - maybe I missed something in my earlier post when I dismissed wind farms in cinema....