Enjoy!.......Mine:
Eden's:
Monday 16 June 2008
Glorious Gardens
I have recently discovered a fab blog http://martagon.blogspot.com/ and since this I feel it only natural, pardon the pun, to celebrate my beautiful garden of only one year....and to add in a few lovelies from the Eden Project.
Sunday 15 June 2008
Getting Old
Today seeing my grandfather who is 95 and very frail struck me with one of those moments, that despite still looking 17, I am no longer 'young'. I have reached an age where I feel like any career decisions made in the next year or so are crucial, and that I really should start using anti-wrinkle cream on my decolletage, and that I should really take my make-up off before bed and stop wearing short skirts designed for 16 year olds.
The trouble is I still can get away with being young-ish, this is heightened by the fact that despite being over the legal drinking age by nearly 6 years, I still get asked for ID, even at the petrol station...the words 'I thought you were joy-riding' did not go down too well when I pulled up at the pump aged 19 and late for work as you can imagine. I am also struggling with the concept of getting my hair cut to a more suitable style, as my boyfriend often suggests as he looks at my ever so bland, dead straight locks from day to day. The issue with this is, I hate doing my hair, it is the biggest hassle of getting ready in the mornings and if Mr GHD hadn't arrived when he did, my hair would still resemble that of the contents of a pot noodle most days. Plus my face is still slightly pudgy (another trait that has not left me since my youth) so a shorter hair cut will only emphasise the roundness of my cheeks and the Wallace-ness of my chin. So what other options are there? I suppose when I've got 5 hours for my hair to dry naturally it looks OK but then I am still left with my roots that I swear grow quicker than the length of my hair suggests.
Other foibles of my body are my inheritance of my Dad's skinny legs and knobbly knees (gosh I am painting a stunning picture here for those who don't know me). So, when I look in the mirror I forget that I am nearing the age of 24 and that I need to start taking life seriously, and not carry on watching Disney with my also quite young minded friends and crying when I can't do something. So why have I not mentally grown up? Has the sense of responsibility not hit home that I have a house to keep up, a mortgage to pay and two very cheeky rabbits to look after? I suppose after dancing round the sitting room with my older and equally as immature sister to music on 'The Hits' indicates it hasn't.
The trouble is I still can get away with being young-ish, this is heightened by the fact that despite being over the legal drinking age by nearly 6 years, I still get asked for ID, even at the petrol station...the words 'I thought you were joy-riding' did not go down too well when I pulled up at the pump aged 19 and late for work as you can imagine. I am also struggling with the concept of getting my hair cut to a more suitable style, as my boyfriend often suggests as he looks at my ever so bland, dead straight locks from day to day. The issue with this is, I hate doing my hair, it is the biggest hassle of getting ready in the mornings and if Mr GHD hadn't arrived when he did, my hair would still resemble that of the contents of a pot noodle most days. Plus my face is still slightly pudgy (another trait that has not left me since my youth) so a shorter hair cut will only emphasise the roundness of my cheeks and the Wallace-ness of my chin. So what other options are there? I suppose when I've got 5 hours for my hair to dry naturally it looks OK but then I am still left with my roots that I swear grow quicker than the length of my hair suggests.
Other foibles of my body are my inheritance of my Dad's skinny legs and knobbly knees (gosh I am painting a stunning picture here for those who don't know me). So, when I look in the mirror I forget that I am nearing the age of 24 and that I need to start taking life seriously, and not carry on watching Disney with my also quite young minded friends and crying when I can't do something. So why have I not mentally grown up? Has the sense of responsibility not hit home that I have a house to keep up, a mortgage to pay and two very cheeky rabbits to look after? I suppose after dancing round the sitting room with my older and equally as immature sister to music on 'The Hits' indicates it hasn't.
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