what a difference a typo makes...

A few posts ago, I mentioned the fact that my spleen was stupidly enlarged and that it appeared that it had got much much bigger during the last 18 months. I went back to hospital not long ago for a check up and raised this issue with the consultant. Sypmathising with the situation, he had a look at the results and compared the most recent ultrasound scan with one done 18 months ago and also with an MRI scan that was done at the same time. Judging by the MRI, it appears that there was a typing error in the ultrasound that was done at the same time. The result given was that my spleen was 16cm back in Feb 2010 and 24 cm in July 2011. Looking at the MRI however, showed that my spleen extends right down to the pelvis and was certainly much bigger than the 16cm given by the ultra sound scan indicating that it had, in fact, been 26cm in Feb 2010! Whilst looking at the MRI images was quite scary- I could see exactly where my spleen stopped being protected by the rib cage and how the surface of the liver was bobbly, scarred and slightly shrivelled looking- it was quite reassuring to know that there has not been that much of a dramatic change in the size of the spleen. The concern was that had there been a dramatic increase in size, it would mean that the spleen was being worked much harder than it should have been and could have meant that a liver transplant may be needed sooner than expected. Since everything seems to be pretty stable at the moment though, it is still very much in the future. For now.

Jen x

Shop til you drop

I was going to write a coherently argued piece about the rioting that took place in cities across the country 2 weeks ago but have found that there was just far too much for me to get my head around!

So I will just continue as I have been...

The weekend of the riots coincided with a trade fair in London that I went to with Mum to look mainly at stock for Spring/ Summer next year. Last time mother and I attempted trade fair shopping together, it ended in complete disaster! There was a lot of shouting and a lot of tears and I ended up doing it all on my own. This time, we weere both a little more prepared for how the show works and I also had more of an idea about how much I could spend and what I wanted to spend it on. I am more confident in talking to the sales people and in getting better deals for myself and making sure that I get what I want. Not only that, but I am learning the art of saying 'no'. Something that is very new to me, especially when it comes to pretty clothes. Mum has calmed down too and is beginning to accept that the business is not a play thing for her but is my way of life, my job and my source of income and so has learned that there are times when her decisions have to be overruled. This didn't stop her looking at stands that had one pretty item and asking if we could have it despite the company having a minimum order of £1000... or something along those lines!

3 days of solid shopping later, we went home empty handed (except for the new shoes I had to buy because my feet were hurting so much), but with some fantastic new suppliers for the shop... New designers and new collections the likes of which have never been seen south of London!! Very exciting times for the shop. All that's left to do is sell the lovely new pretties! :)

Jen x

That's Entertainment

As a small, independent retailer, I am often targeted by publications that want me to advertise with them. Last week, I had a phonecall from someone representing a publication for the local cinema. I seem to remember being very brusque during the first phone call as I had a shop full of customers and better things to do than to have someone trying to sell me advertising space. After asking if they could call back another time I hung up and presumed that they wouldn't bother again. At the end of the day, I was relieved not to have heard any more. The following day though, I was called again and this time they said they should come in and show me the publication and the deals they could do.

Later that afternoon as I was flitting around the shop barefoot wearing short shorts, a youngish man comes in. He says what a lovely shop this is and how his daughter (who is 2) would be swinging from the chandeliers. We sit down and chat about the advertising options and make polite conversation. He asks how I got into the job and if I enjoy it etc. all very polite, standard conversation. He asks if I work many hours (yes!) and comments that my boyfriend must find that a pain. No boyfriend, I tell him- men are too much time and effort. A customer has walked in by now so I check that she is ok and help her find a few things whilst mr sorts out the paperwork side of things. Once done, he gets up and shakes my hand to say thanks for the advertising. After trying on a few things, my customer is now back to browsing the rails and I'm standing behind the counter with this bloke in front of the counter. Hands have been shaken, papers signed, and I have a customer who needs some attention- that's his cue to leave. Instead, he asks what I'm up to that evening. A bit taken aback, I may haave told him that that was a bit forward but in my shocked state I couldn't think of anything I might be doing. Then he asked for my mobile numer... my customer is still lurking behind the rails trying not to interrupt the situation... I politely told him that, no he couldn't have my number and he left. At which point I started laughing and my customer came our of hiding and said that she didn't think I looked that desperate!!

That was certainly a first, and a very entertaining one at that! Although he wasn't mr smooth or mr hot, it was still flattering and maybe it won't be the only time I'm asked out by someone trying to sell me something. Lets just hope that if there is a next time, he's hotter!

Jen xx

Good Riddance

After over a week of not seeing South Africa due to birthday celebrations, I thought that I ought to see him at some point (especially since he'd given me a birthday pressie... moving too fast anyone???). We arranged that I would drive up and see him and sort out further plans from there. I had also been invited to go surfing the same day which I was expecting to be in the morning so when I heard that the plan was to go in the afternoon, I had to decline. I should probably have taken it as a sign that I would rather have gone surfing... but I went ahead with the 'date' anyway.

When I got there, South Africa was not in the best way after a rather late night. Still, we went upstairs and you don't need details! We then had lunch with his parents. His mum is a great cook but a little full on crazy! After lunch, we chatted about what we might do with the afternoon- watch a film, go for a walk on the beach, do something! We didn't really come to any decision but went upstairs and lay down chatting away. South Africa then says to me 'do you mind if I have catch 20mins sleep'. No worries, you go to sleep, I'll have a bit of a lie down and watch a bit of T.V. Not how I'd usually spend a dya off but hey ho. Over an hour later I had dozed off a little out of sheer boredom. I checked my phone to seee the time- 5:30pm- and got up saying I was going to head home. I got very little response and once I'd sorted my stuff out let him know again that I was leaving and started to head out of the door. It was only at this point that he said he would walk me to the door- no questions about why I was leaving and no effort to keep me there. Seriously! I do not have time for someone who doesn't want to fight for me so left feeling pretty angry. I got a phone call as I was driving home to apologise and had excuse after excuse thrown at me- he thought maybe I had to be home for something, he was hungover and not in the mood, blah blah bull shit! I gave him the option- Did he want me to come back or should I go home? From this I got no straight answer so said I was going to go home and wouldn't be coming back. Since this got a similarly non-commital response I drove off with absolutely no regrets. Clearly we are never going to work. That's the thing with online dating though- it's always going to be difficult to find someone who is right for you because there is, in many cases, going to be so little common ground.

I had one more message from him the following day which was a kind of apology but also a whole load of excuses which only served to piss me off even more! So, it's goodbye South Africa and onto the next challenge!!

Jen xx

Surprise!!

It was my birthday a few weeks ago (11th July) and Mum had planned a weekend up in London for the family. She organised it months ago and told me that I just needed to make sure I had taken the weekend off from work and had someone to cover for me at the shop. With this all sorted, we drove up to London. Since Mum and I are pretty good at knowing what the other will like, I wasn't too aprehensive about the surprise she had planned and suspected that it was either a show or a concert. I did overhear a conversation with my brother at one point that confirmed that we would all be going to a concert. As usual during the summer season, there were plenty to choose from that weekend most of which I would enjoy so I was still fairly in the dark. We found where we were staying- a block of holiday apartments in which we were given an extra room because there was a 'maintenance issue' with the twin room my brother and I were supposed to be sharing- then went off for food. After food it was a taxi down the road to the gig venue. Still not knowing who we were going to see, I was actually pretty excited. As we got closer to the gates of Somerset House, it became a little tricky for it to stay a surprise so Mum handed me my ticket. It was to see Stornoway- cue blank faces from Dad, Paul and most others... They are amazing and I love them!!! They are a band from South London who are similar to Mumford and Sons in that they have a very folky influence. They're songs are a bit more mellow than Mumfords but they are definitely an equally talented bunch of blokes. Waiting for the gig to start there were so many instruments on stage that we wondered where anyone else was going to fit. This was Stornoway's biggest headline gig to date with just 3000 people filling the courtyard of Somerset house. It was a beautiful evening in a lovely setting and the music was amazing. I absolutely love seeing bands who know how to play the intruments that make good music and these guys certainly know how to do that! If you get chance, they are well worth checking out- especially their song 'Battery human'- love the song, love the lyrics!

Jen xx

Stoopid Liver

A few weeks ago, I took myself off to what felt like the millionth hospital appointment in a few weeks. This was an ultrasound so nothing invasive or painful but pretty informative. After lying down covered in goo for a while, the doctor informed me that my spleen was 24 cm. This meaning very little to me, she then told me that last time I had an ultrasound (about 18 months- 2 years ago) it was 16cm and was enlarged then. This sent me into a bit of a panic as it essentially means that my spleen is taking on far more of the liver's work than it ought to and than it used to. The ultra sound doctor couldn't really give me much more information about what this might mean in terms of treatment and so it's a case of 'wait and see' until I next see my consultant. Thankfully that's not too far off so I'll be more clued up. Until then, I will not think about it, will not worry about it and will do my best to look after myself. There's no point worrying about things you can't change!

Jen xx

just like buses!

After quite some time of being out of relationships and getting pretty much nothing by way of decent attention from men, it has all come along at once...

After the hilarious, disastrous date; there was the second date with 'South Africa'. We started chatting waaaay back in November, just before I went to Australia. As we got closer to Christmas, and to the stage at which we were going to meet, he told me he'd met someone blah blah blah so I did what any sensible girl does and deleted him from facebook. Which is why I was very surprised to find a message from him when I got home from Lanzarote. I was a bit unsure as to whether he intended our first meeting to be a date or a business meeting (he contacted me saying that he wanted to start up a business in the clothing industry and needed some advice). After a bit more conversation, I figured that it was definitely a date and that his business plan was just a way of getting conversation started again.

Back to the point. Saturday night was disastrous date, Sunday was a day with South Africa. We get on pretty well and I really enjoy spending time with him so have carried on seeing him. It does seem to be flying into 'relationship' status though which is a little bit scary. Whilst at his with his best mate, he referred to me as his girlfriend. I let it pass (don't want to appear crazy), but having been single for such a long time, the idea of actually being someone's girlfriend is a little bit daunting. It also doesn't help that whilst the guy is attractive and we have fun together (lot's of fun!), I still have 'sailor boy' in the back of my mind. There was just something about the very small amount of time we spent together that has kept me thinking about him. To me, this just shows that even though I have a great time with 'South Africa', I don't want to be his girlfriend. There is something missing that means that I don't want a relationship with him. Mum reckons that maybe I need to get to know him better before I make any decisions and that I shouldn't let 'sailor boy' affect the decision I make.

But the story doesn't end there... It was my birthday on Monday (thanks for all the messages!) and on Friday night I went out celebrating with the holiday girls. We had a great night oggling the band in uniform in Annabels and also had a few of our much loved 'confession times'. This led to me sending sailor boy a would be drunken message at some stupid hour of the morning to let him know I would be in London over the weekend. As expected, I had no reply despite checking my phone every 30 seconds whilst in London 'just in case'. I wasn't expecting to hear back at all which is why, when I checked fb on my phone for the last time before I went to the land of nod last night and saw the 1 new message sign, the last person I was expecting it to be from was 'sailor boy'. But there it was. 1 new message from sailor boy. Not only that but the response was very positive. I'll be back in London in a few weeks time for work and possibly even the week before for the Vintage festival so watch this space.

In the meantime, I'm going to have to be very careful with South Africa who, having only known me for a few weeks, got me a birthday present and calls and texts frequently... eeek!! gonna have to back this one up a bit and any advice on how the kindest way to do this is would be very much appreciated!!

xx

The oldest trick in the book...

After a few knock backs in the the real world of attempting relationships, I decided to make a bit more of an effort in the cyber world of dating and have been regularly checking my accounts and messaging a few potentials.

Last weekend I ended up on a pretty successful date with a definite potential. More on that later maybe, but the one I really want to indulge you in is Saturday nights little meet up. This guy has been making an attempt to meet up with me for quite a few months now but I'm a very busy girl and don't have a lot of free time. Whilst at a rather disatrous open mic last Sunday night, I arranged to meet up on Friday night. Then cancelled because I had a work event so rearranged for Thursday night, then cancelled because I was playing in a concert for my primary school. This cancelling and rearranging had happened a number of times prior to this so the guy was pretty persistent and undettered. We finally agreed on Saturday evening so once I'd finished work, I went home to get ready. I may be in the minority here but I figured that going to meet someone from an internet dating site probably counts as a date and a date requires a little bit of effort to be made in the appearance department. I am aware that I spend every day in a clothing shop and make quite a bit of effort for work. I also take pride in my appearance and like to make an effort if I am leaving the house for anything other than running down the road to get some milk or walking the dogs. Some people may even go so far as to say that I overdress a lot of the time. As I had no idea what to expect from this date, I went with a fairly standard outfit that could go anywhere. I definitely looked presentable and expected the same from my date. I was pretty shocked to say the least when I clocked the guy I was meeting and he looked like he was heading to the beach. I understand that it was a hot day, but still! If you're heading to the beach, fine, look like you're heading to the beach. If you're going on a date that you evidently wanted to go on judging by the persistance, make an effort!!! Anyway, not wanting to judge entirely on choice of clothing, we went for a little walk and starting chatting. Awkwardly. Again, I don't want to be too judgemental or snooty but I'm quite an intelligent person and I work hard at my job. I may not always have worked hard academically but I was one of those people that got by with reasonable grades without putting in too much effort. He was a 'couldn't be bothered' type and made that clear. I don't tend to get on with that type of person to be honest. We stopped to get a drink and look out over Plymouth Sound which is actually a lovely place to be on a summer evening. As he went to get the drinks, I sent a quick text to mum: 'how do I escape a date?' and half way through my drink, got a phone call from Mum who had hurt her ankle gardening and since Dad was away and my brother was out, she needed me to take her to A&E. Oldest trick in the book. Initially I think I got away with it. I even managed to convince myself at one point that I was worried about my poor crippled Mum! It was probably around the seriously awkward goodbye that he worked out that this was a get out clause but I'm never going to see him again and have no connection to him at all so I'm not really fussed about what he thinks. Would it have been fairer to say to him, you're short, unattractive, boring and need to make more effort and I don't want to spend any more time with you? Or should I have left whilst he was getting the drinks? I think I'll stick with being rescued by Mum (again- best Mum in the world!)

Xx

Time for a Rant...

I feel that I have to have a bit of a rant about the complete uselessness of some of the systems that the NHS has in place.

In October, I went in for an appointment to discuss having a mole removed. A very basic procedure in the scheme of things and something that I had done last year. It wasn't until May that I received my appointment for the procedure to take place. The letter that was sent gave the time of the appointment and informed me that I would be having a local anaesthetic and could eat and drink as normal. It also made me aware in a very firm manner that if I did not respond to the letter to confirm the appointment within 24 hours, it would be cancelled and the process would have to start again. I may be wrong here, but 24 hours is a very limited time in which to confirm an appointment. What if I had been away, even just for the day? As it was, I was unable to make it to that particular appointment and phoned (within 24 hours) to let the hospital know. I was told that I would be sent another appointment in the post shortly but they couldn't book one over the phone. This meant that it would once more be pot luck whether or not I would be able to attend. It seems that hospitals don't understand the fact that some people can't just tell their workplace that they need the day off for medical reasons...

Back to the point. I never received a second appointment letter but instead had a phone call on Tuesday morning to ask if I could be at the hospital for 5pm. That day. When I said I couldn't, the woman was most taken aback and asked for a reason. She seemed even more shocked when I told her that I worked for myself in a shop that didn't close until 5pm. She offered another appointment- 5pm on Wednesday. I agreed to this one (even though it meant missing sailing which I was most gutted about!) and was told that the procedure would take 45 minutes maximum. I arrived dead on 5 o'clock and took a seat in the waiting room. Shortly after I was called for pre assessment where I informed the nurse that I was immuno-suppressed and therefore susceptible to infections, that I had a low platelet count and that I have a history of feinting- particularly when needles are involved. Iwas given my little red wristband and sat down to wait for the next step. Almost an hour later I was taken to see the surgeon and told him the same as I told the nurse- low platelets (bruise easily, bleed lots), scared of needles (feint), immuno suppressed (get infections easily). I'm pretty sure that even the less medically educated would be able to work out that these teeensy little issues could cause complications in even minor surgery. Apparently this lot had other ideas about prioritising patients. The phobia of needles subsequently means that most medical procedures cause an unusual level of anxiety which, to me, makes perfect sense. Still, once I had seen the surgeon I was asked to wait in the next waiting area. At about 7pm I was getting fairly anxious. I was hungry and didn't know what was going on. I called home to say I hadn't gone in and didn't know how long I'd be. There were no nurses around who knew what time I would be going in. At one point I was told that someone was in surgery and there were 2 people after, then me. That could mean anything really. I had no idea how long their procedures were or how many surgeries were taking place that evening or how many surgeons might be working. Just before 8pm, I still hadn't gone in and was definitely worked up and starving. I managed to find a nurse to ask when I would be going in and she didn't know. Another nurse came around and rather assertively told me that she had let me know where I was on the list. I let them know just how worked up I was and how unfair it was on patients to tell them their appointment is at 5 and to keep them waiting for 3 hours. They agreed and said there was nothing they could do about it and that it was an admin problem. I was asked to change into an operating robe and take a seat again. Then the surgeon came out to repeat what the nurse had said about the wait which just got me more upset. Now I was sitting in the waiting room on my own in one of those horrendous operating robes with no back in tears with another 25 minutes to wait before my op. I went to the desk and asked to use the phone again and the nurses that were hiding in the office who I hadn't seen that evening demanded to know who I was and why I needed to use the phone. Whilst I understand why they needed to know this, they're manner of asking was rude and obnoxious. Speaking to mum on the phone had me in tears again and she offered to drive over so she would be there when I came out of surgery. At 8:30 I was finally taken into theatre where inevitably, I broke into a panicked flood of tears as soon as they injected the anaesthetic. By 9pm it was all over and Mum was waiting for me (having already given a piece of her mind to anyone who was nearby...).

It seems ridiculous that so much hassle was caused when all that was needed was a little more communication. All that is needed for anyone going for any kind of surgery is information. A note on the initial letter to say that whilst you need to arrive at 5pm, this is only for pre op assessment and you may be waiting up to 4 hours before your surgery. I find it utterly insane that such a vital piece of information is missed from the letters when it causes so much anxiety and aggravation!!

Rant over- NHS- sort yourself out!

Xx

Holiday

If anyone can safely say they have the best parents in the world, it's me.

Earlier this year, sitting at home in the evening, Mum said that I'd been invited on holiday and did I want to go. This was slightly confusing as I didn't know anyone who would be going on holiday and who would invite me along. She went on to explain that one of the girls from her singing group was organising a single girls holiday and had invited her along (not that my mum is single). Mum turned it down but offered me as an alternative... When she first explained all this I was a little bit dubious to say the least. A holiday with a group of people I had never met sounded like a very strange thing to do. I made excuses like the fact that there was no way I could afford it or take time off from the shop to go on holiday. Here's where the best mum in the world steps in- she offered to pay for the holiday and to cover the shop whilst I was away. For free. I still turned down the holiday but a little while later, having thought it over, decided why the hell shouldn't I go on holiday with a group of girls I've never met?! I get to meet some new single girls in the area who could become friends, and get to enjoy a week in the sun stress free and all paid for. How did I ever think to turn it down in the first place!

Fast forward a few months and a couple of meet ups with some of the girls and eight of us are standing at Exeter airport at 5am about to head of to Lanzarote. Although I'd met most of the girls before and had one particularly good night out, I wasn't quite sure what to expect spending a week on holiday with them. I needn't have worried at all though. Despite being possibly the most diverse group of people you could find on holiday together we all got on amazingly and had an absolute whale of a time. There was a mix of lazing by the pool, cocktails by the pool, eating out, nights out and a boat trip for those of us that could hack it!

What was best about the holiday was that with such a variety of people, comes a huge amount of experience and so for me as the youngest, it was like a therapy session. I have heard some hiliarious, amazing, heartwarming, shocking stories which I would love to share but holiday rules forbid! ;)

Xx

A Pirates Life for me

After my overwhelming desire on the train to London to get my Johnny Depp as a pirate fix, I made a trip to the cinema yesterday to get the big screen experience.

Pirates of the Carribean 4: On Stranger Tides is definitely a better film than the last one. I'm no film critic and certainly would never claim to be so this is purely my opinion (which is essentially what a critics review is anyway). Why is it so much better? There is no irritating Keira Knightly with her super skinny figure and ridiculous voice getting in the way. There is no Orlando Bloom attempting to be a kind and forgiving kind of pirate. Whilst to many people, these are serious downpoints, to me; definitely not! Just give me pure, unadulturated, Johnny Depp pirate :) The fourth film managed to go one better though and threw in Penelope Cruz pirate. Whilst I find Keira Knightly's 'rich girl with a pirate attitude' act far too much of an act, Penelope Cruz as a pirate is far more convincing and definitely way sexier! This even had me debating about who was hotter- Pirate Johnny or Pirate Penelope- can I have both please?!! mmmm that sounds like fun ;) Although it was all pretty stereotypical spanishy piratey, it was still damn sexy and the two of them together work way way better than Johnny and Keira ever could. Throw into the film the rugged christian sailor and the exquisitely beautiful mermaid he falls in love with and this film becomes far too full of attractive people and a set that would definitley be worth a visit!

When you have that many beautiful people to look at for just over 2 hours, I'm honestly not all that fussed about the plot but again, film 4 surpassed film 3. (my opinion only!). Whereas film 3 had me totally confused with an exessively twisted plot, film 4 went back to the old rule of keeping it simple. In a time when we have films such as Inception and Shutter Island thrust at us with their inconceivably knotted plots, it's pretty refreshing to have a film that starts at the beginning and ends at the end. Definitely worth a watch- even if it is just for the eye candy :)

Xx

A Weekend in the City

I knew I missed London but I don't think it hit me how much I missed it until I was on the train back to Devon at 8pm last night.

I arrived in the beautiful capital at 10:30 pm on Friday night after a busy day of appointments and work, hopped off the train with the most useless of wheelie cases we own wearing my standard uniform of highly impractical shoes and headed towards the tube. I checked how much I had left on my oyster and made my way towards Farringdon to find Sarah's workplace. My parents, particularly my Dad, had made it clear that whilst they were happy for me to go away and felt that it was something that I needed to do, they were worried about me. Part of me understands this but at the same time, London is one of the places I feel safest. Walking down the streets late on a Friday night, making my way towards the restaurant where Sarah works, I never once felt vulnerable in any way. The restaurant was an energetic place despite being at the stage where the bar was closing. The staff were all so lovely and Sarah introduced me to each of them as and when she could. They all made sure that I was happy and that I had a drink which is always appreciated after a long day and a long train journey! Once all packed up for the night, Sarah and I walked to her apartment. She has managed to find a great set-up which is a step up from University accomodation but is not as expensive as a central London flat. She has a room and en-suite with a shared kitchen in a modern and secure building. A long catch up and gossip later and we slept like logs until much later than I've done in a long while- we both clearly needed it!

I'm a breakfast person. I NEED my breakfast and get seriously grumpy if I don't get it. I don't care what time of day I wake up, the first meal of the day has to be breakfast. On our little sailing weekend a few weekends back, we discovered that Cafe's in small Cornish towns don't serve breakfast after 10:30/11am. London- a different ball game altogether! We found a great place where we could get a good breakfast and a much needed cup of tea until 2pm. Not only that, the place also had a bar/club out of which people were still stumbling out whilst others inside were still going and probably intending to keep doing so until Sunday. Once fully awake, Sarah and I took a walk around the area which has an amazing selection of boutiques and vintage shops- I can see Cherry Cherry fitting in so perfectly! If only I could afford to do so... ahhh we can but dream... Not long after, Lois arrived and was in need of food so back we went to the cafe for a catch up and gossip! Lois is in the process of setting up an online vintage shop- massively exciting and writes a fab blog which you can find here! There was definitely not enough time in the day to talk about everything so I'll just have to head back soon... what a shame!

Later that evening, I donned my new shoes :) and made my way to Leicester Square to meet Ben. Now as much as I love the buzz of London, Leicester Square was heaving! I've never seen it like that before except when there's an event going on. A quick trip to the theatre ticket booth later and we had ourselves a pair of decently priced tickets to see 'Jersey Boys'. After more food and more gossip, we made our way to the theatre. Although it's not a show that's been at the top of my list, I would totally recommend it to anyone! I know I'm probably not the best person to recommmend any show as I usually get so involved that I think most are amazing but this really was a great show. The guy playing Frankie Valli had the most incredible voice I have ever heard and the ballads were particularly captivating. The one irritating thing that you will almost inevitably find with a show like this is that the majority of the audience will know the songs and there will always be someone who feels the urge to sing along slightly out of tune and slightly out of time. On Saturday night, that person was sitting behind me. I won't say that I didn't sing along at all as that would be a lie but I did limit myself and at least I know that when I sing it is in tune and is in time! After a stroll towards Covent Garden with Ben reminding me to post the bills that I'd been carrying around, we went our seperate ways.

Sunday morning I met Sarah at Kings Cross to return her key and in typical Sarah style she had left her railcard at her boyfriends place and was waiting for her train home... It was retrieved in the nick of time as is also Sarah's style! I spent the morning around Oxford Circus trying to get stock only to discover that whilst the rest of London is open on a Sunday, wholesalers are not. Lesson learned. After a mooch around Carnaby street I made my way towards Charing Cross to meet a slightly worse for wear Bex for lunch. We ended up in Covent Garden in a pub that I remember as being much less pricey and much more relaxed last time I went there. Another lesson learned. Food was good though and the cure magician kinda made it worth it. Once Bex had made a move back home, I made my way back towards Trafalgar Square and took advantage of one of the free things to do in London- The National Gallery. Not only is it free entry but the cloakroom is also free so I was relieved of my wheelie case for a while! I do enjoy looking at art but I've discovered that I'm quite picky about what I find worth looking at. A lot of what is in the National isn't what I like. There is quite a lot of religious art and whilst I think something like the Cistine Chapel is incredible, many of these are quite garish and full on. I was quite excited to find that they were doing a renaissance art exhibition but was disappointed to find that this particular exhibition would cost me a whole £10! At least wondering around allowed me some time to recover from pulling the suitcase everywhere and I could just be and recover.

I finished my day by heading back up Regent Street to Carnaby Street where I once found a great little cafe that was a bit like an american diner and served the most fantastic pancakes. I'd been craving them all day so found the cafe, which was still serving the pancakes but had changed the decor. It's now a hawaian themed place called 'Kua 'Aina'. I have to say that whilst I can see how it fits in with the area more now, I much prefered it as it was before. It just felt a bit grottier before and as strange as that sounds, it was just a bit more comfortable. That being said, the food was just as good and the staff are really friendly so I'll almost certainly go back again! By this time it was 5pm and I made my way to Paddington. Although my train wasn't until 8, I was happy to sit with my book and just relax.

There are so so many things I love about London; the fact that I feel so safe there, that whatever you wear, people don't stare and people are on the whole well dressed. I think this is part of what makes me feel so comfortable and safe. I like to dress up and make an effort with what I wear but in Plymouth and Devon in general this draws attention in a way that isn't always appreciative and is more often sleazy. In London however, I can happily wear what I want and know that I'm an not going to be the best or worst dressed person on the street. I may get a few looks but these are more likely to be admiring glances than the leers I get at home. When it comes to how other people dress, in Plymouth usually 90% of people look like they can't be bothered and don't care how they look, whereas in London it's 90% that do care how they look and pull off whatever look they might be going for.

Despite how much I love London though, I know that for the time being, there is no chance of me moving away from home. The situation as it is means that the support I get from my parents, both financially and emotionally is the most important thing for me at the moment so moving out and moving the shop will have to wait until things are more stable.

Xx

Hey, I put some new shoes on...

... and suddenly everything is right- now wouldn't that be great!

For the last 10 days I have sat (im)patiently by my phone waiting for it to ring. I have allowed myself to accept that it is not going to but that doesn't stop it being just a little bit painful. Once again, I've been rejected and rejection in any sense is painful. What I possibly find harder is that the person who has rejected me this time asked me why I lacked confidence. I felt myself letting go and believing that something may actually happen and that this person might come to care for me. People have been reassuring, telling me that there could be any number of reasons why I am still waiting for that phone call. This is of course true and anything could happen but there comes a point when you have to be realistic and that is the stage I have reached.

My mum once said something to me about myself that has really stuck with me and struck a chord. She told me that no matter what life throws my way, I have the ability to pick myslef up, put my face back on adn get on with it. So that's exactly what I intend to do and is precisely why I'm heading up to London this weekend. It's just a little chance to escape and I am looking forward to it more than anything, despite the fact that no one else seems to be around!! That doesn't matter though. What does matter is that, courtesy of the aforementioned Mum, I have a fab pair of new shoes and an amazing handbag so I can look hot! :) Although these material objects may not make my phone ring, the fact that when I said to Mum I had fallen in love with a handbag and she replied with "you can have that too then", I assured her she didn't have to do that her response was "you deserve it". That kind of love makes me feel a million dollars and I'm happy in the kowledge that there will always be someone who sees me and treats me as a princess. Who cares if that person is my Mum!

Xx

I'm confused.

People tell me I'm insecure for no reason. I am insecure. But from what I can tell at the moment, this is with pretty good reason. I've been single now for 5 years. In that time, I've had a few guys show interest and then just stop. Nothing. Either that or I get srung along with the old "I really like you, but I've just come out of a relationship and I'm not ready" line. That's why, when I met a lovely sailing gentleman last weekend, I told myslef that I wouldn't get my hopes up. Yet here I am waiting for the promised phone call, checking my phone every two minutes and refusing to send another message lest I seem like a crazy stalker type person, the kind of girl I never wanted to be. The kind of girl who texts incessantly and demands answers- that's just not fair to anyone! But at the same time, I want the damn answers! I want the reasons why I get to a certain stage and then get ignored. I'm not a particularly crazy, obsessive, extreme girl and do have some good personality traits (despite the odd hanger obsession).

What annoys me the most is that at this moment, I'm getting myself in a complete state over someone who I knew for less than 48 hours and they have managed to gain this ridiculous hold on me that has, I admit, crushed me a little bit. The bit of confidence I initially gained from the encounter has been destoyed tenfold. It's no wonder then, that I am no longer the same outgoing, confident girl that I have been. The one who isn't afraid to put herself out there.

This is not meant to be a self pitying post, or a plea for attention. Nor is it an attack on men. It is merely a way to express a little frustration!

Xx

If I Had a Hammer...

... I would probably be too dangerous for words.

I have recently come to the conclusion that I am not a tolerant person despite what I have to exude whilst at work. Underneath that sweetly smiling face is often the bubbling anger and frustration at people and the way they can be.

Let's start off gently.

In my shop, I have a little teensy bit of OCD surrounding hangers. Yes, hangers. They have to be right. The shop has wooden hangers, some have 'non-slip' grips on them and are straight hangers, some are skirt clip hangers and the rest are standard hangers that curve forward slightly. This curve is representative or the shoulders so it is clear that the clothes sit on the hanger facing forward, i.e the tips of the hanger point slightly more forward that the centre of the hanger. Then, in order for them to sit evenly on the rails, the hangers all face the same way which in turn means that all the clothes face the same way. The hangers are then placed on the rail with the hook facing away to make it easier to take the item off the rail and get a closer look. To me this is all logical and sensible and a way of making it easier for everyone.

Why then, do people firstly have to take the clothes off the rail, look at them and then ram them back onto the rail in a completely disrespectful manner, facing the wrong way with the hook towards them. If it was easy to take off the rail, why do you need to make such a flipping song and dance about putting it back on the rail!!!!

It gets worse when people try things on. Putting thing back on the hanger the wrong way round and attempting to be helpful by putting things back, the wrong way round, back to front, skewiff.... arrgghgh! Then there's the people who can't even be bothered to put things back on the hanger and leave hundreds of pounds worth of delicate silks strewn across the floor... excuse me!?! Do I look like your butler/ house maid?? NO- pick it up!

Now we've established that I am 100% neurotic, let's see how to calm me down. To me it doesn't matter which shop you are in, be it Topshop, Harrods or Cherry Cherry, it is basic manners to treat the staff and the clothes with some degree of respect. Please, please, please, try not to yank the clothes around on the rail, if things fall off, pick them up, if it keeps falling off, let someone know. When you've tried clothes on in a boutique, hang them up and leave them in the changing rooms. Someone will rearrange them and put them back where they belong and how they would like them to be hung up. That even saves you some time and effort! woo :)

In all fairness though, if you come in with a smile and are lovely and friendly to me, I won't mind so much about the hangers...

Xx

Untitled

Man number 3 is another dating site find.

I'm not sure where I stand with this one so he will be referred to as "untitled". We started messaging way back in November. Earlier this year the messaged stopped and I assumed that he had found someone so left it at that. Suddenly an email pops up and it picks up again. I thought it would be rude to ask why the long break so left it. We finally met up last week in the morning before I had to head to work in the afternoon. I really enjoyed our messages which were entertaining and witty and full of a bit of playful, flirty banter. He's an intelligent guy which is what I need- someone who I can learn from but who doesn't mind that I'm reasonably intelligent and ambitious. This posed a problem when actually meeting face to face. Our communication has been limited to thought out emails for such a long time and I had quite high hopes that I ended up being someone that was me but not quite me when we met. I really wanted to be able to chat easily but was constantly aware of myself, how I looked and what I was saying. Something about me just couldn't fully relax. This may have hindered my chances with "untitled" as there has been no mention of a second meeting... who knows... don't want to get hopes up again as that can prove to be painful!

Xx

I've got to see you again

Back to internet dating and we have "I've got to see you again"...

Sadly this sentiment did not come from myself but from the other party involved. After a reasonable length of time getting to know one another through the standard dating site messages, the time came when it was becoming clear that a meeting was inevitable. I pretty much already knew this was not going anywhere and was selfishly enjoying a little male attention (we all need attention from the opposite sex now and then). So the first date came around- I had hoped to meet somewhere between our two locations but he insisted that I work too hard and deserved to be taken out properly so I agreed to be picked up and taken out for dinner. On first glance, I was even more sure that this would not go anywhere. I know it's not fair to judge on looks though so I kept an open mind and let the lanky, slightly weedy, geeky looking guy take me out. Plus I couldn't exactly turn around at that point. We shared some great food and reasonable conversation but there was nothing really there for me. He on the other hand, felt that he had to see me again and I'm too chicken to say to someone's face that I didn't feel the same. By the following day, we had arranged to meet again just a few days later. The day before the second date, a dozen red roses turn up at the shop and alarm bells start ringing. I honestly thought the postman must have the wrong place. How did he know my full name? how did he know the address of my shop? And yet I still turned up for the second date- a leisurely morning being treated to lunch in a nearby town. All very lovely but still no spark and with the added aprehension that he knew more about me than I had divulged... The next few messages through the dating site only served to put me off more and more. He had already planned the next four dates and was cleaning and tidying his house for my apparently imminent visit.... It was then that I sent THE message. The one no one likes sending but it really, absolutely, definitely had to be done!

Thankfully I have avoided any further contact with the slightly stalker type and am alive to tell the tale :)

Xx

Hot 'n' Cold

Time to start the catch up!

I can't quite remember where I left off with the last blog but I now own a shop- A clothing boutique in Devon. It's bloody hard work and after coming into the business at a fairly unstable economic time, I am spending most of my life pretty broke and trying to think of new ways to bring people to the shop at very little cost. This lack of funds and time leaves very little time and energy for sorting out the love life. Despite this, I've managed to rack up a few potentially entertaining anecdotes from recent experiences.

I'm sure I have been through the first online dating meet up before so won't go there again. After that we had "Hot 'n' Cold". I met "Hot 'n' Cold" on the night of my graduation and there was definitely a fairly quick mutual attraction. After a night of getting on very well, some interesting conversation and the rest, I drove home in the snow at 4am promising to let him know I had got home safely. Although there was a reasonable amount of alcohol consumed on his part, I allowed myself to believe that there was also a reasonable amount of attraction and, having not had much success in the area for some time, allowed myself to get my hopes up- big effing mistake! One moment there would be a great deal of flirting and an arrangement made to meet up, then silence for weeks and last minute cancellations. We finally met up again 2 months after the first meeting and had a great time together, both agreeing that we hoped to see one another again. He was away with work for 2 weeks and we would definitely meet up when he was back. Nearly 3 months later, still not seen the guy. Somewhere in between that second meeting and now, I got fed up of being the girl that really pisses me off that I was turning into. We all know the one. The girl who constantly asks "why isn't he replying to my texts?", "What have I done?", "I can see he's online, so why the fuck isn't he talking to me?". After a couple of messages reminding him of my existence, I figured that if he was interested, he'd let me know and if he wasn't, he wasn't worth the effort. Irritatingly I felt a pair of earrings that were an 18th birthday present there and will never get them back- dammit!

Xx

Deja Vu...

Here I am again!

It's 12:40 am and I can't sleep so after a nudge from a friend in the pub Sunday night, I am back to blogging again...

There's a lot to catch up on so prepare yourselves. There is also a strong possibility that, considering the time, there may be little sense and many spelling and grammatical errors in the first few posts. Please accept my apologies for this but there are so many jumbled thoughts strolling around my little brain that need to come out.

Xx