I wasn't really a rebellious teenager in terms of fighting, or going out and getting totally trollied on questionable vodka when I was younger, no that came much later on, when I realised that earning money in the week meant I could go out and drink fluorescently coloured alcopops at the weekend, whilst dancing on a rather unsafe depiction of a speed-boat, in an even more questionable bar, after shimmying ungracefully up a pole (yes, up a pole, takes some practice, let me tell you, and not easy in heels), then trying not to fall off said speedboat, or at least not whilst spilling any of my drink. No, I was quite a good girl when I was younger, too good actually, even though I was a little cow at home. So this morning when I woke up feeling like I wanted to go and do something completely spontaneous and something which I will probably regret next week, I wondered if the universe had decided it was time to make up lost ground and reclaim my teenage youth.
It's weird, but I strangely like it. So I'm going to dye my hair very red tomorrow, yes, it will probably end up orange because it's already meant to have red in it (although I'm sure I was sold a duff with that hair dye, because it's only red in certain lights - definitely not what it said on the box). And secondly, I'm going to have my nose pierced. Tastefully of course, I'm not going to go the whole bull-ring thing, a nice sparkly little stud will do nicely. I'm having to do some research first though, I've heard that the side you have pierced means something in some places, I don't want to have the right side pierced only to find out later that it means 'slapper' in Hindi, or vice versa. So if anyone can shed any light on this before I go ahead and get someone to stick a hole in my nose, I'd be most grateful.
I might even get another tattoo .....
Has this rebellion got something to do with being 30 (whisper that quietly) in July?!
I think it may have something to do post-man syndrome. You know, when you go through a break up, how you're meant to get a new hair cut? Well I don't want a new hair cut, I'm growing my hair so that wouldn't be helpful, instead I'm going to dye the mop red and turn my nose into a sieve.
And if it all goes wrong, the best thing is I can blame the boy! Not my fault at all, not my idea, and nothing to do with my bad judgement. No, it is all down to he who shall not be named. Sorted.
I do like this idea, I could do all manner of things and claim insanity due to being emotionally battered and bruised. Hmm, where to start ....?!
This week, apart from my regression in years, I've been out every night for various things, and y'know what, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to cope with staying in for the day tomorrow. Turns out, I quite like being a social butterfly, I've not done it in far too long. I'm learning what it's like to have a social life again now that summer is over and I can't jump on a plane at regular intervals, which unfortunately has the nasty side effect of draining the bank balance and running up the credit card bill. Don't get me wrong, I am skint with a capital S, it is January after all, and my plastic has taken a hit, but I've felt the need to be with my friends and I've made the effort to try and lift myself out of the funk that the boy has put me in. I say I've tried, I'm not saying it's necessarily worked. See, it's all his fault again. My credit card bill is now his fault too. This excuse I like.
|My first Konad attempt|
For those of you that don't know, Konad is nail art stamping and it's oh-so-easy that even I can do it under the influence of wine. Yes, I'm drinking wine too. This is also his fault.
You can find more stuff on this wonderful invention, that is Konad, not the boy, here.
Unfortunately, with January, comes the obligatory depression of bad weather and very busy travel agents. I've spent most of the month, well when I've not been out zumba-ing or drinking hot chocolate (rock n' roll), looking at Travel Republic again. This is an addiction that is threatening never to leave me. I don't really want it to if I'm honest, I like holidays, I get a rather worrying rush from pressing 'find flights' and waiting, wondering if I can get a return to Dalaman in peak season for under £200. Not happening I tell you. What I did find was a very cheap week in May, one that I am very tempted to book, as a nice little prelude before the annual two weeker later in the summer at some point. Well I say annual, it wasn't really annual last year was it? I spent more time on a plane flying back and forth over Europe than I did going out in my own town. Mind you, can you blame me? A night out in Ches Vegas ain't really the high life. But anyway, I'm half dreading summer and half stupidly excited. The dreading part is because I seem to be incapable of not settling into normal life in summer, I'm always wanting to be elsewhere. This tells me something. Unfortunately the bank balance does not agree.
One day, defintely one day.