this week
This week is action packed, and rather unfortunately, very little of that action seems to have anything to do with work that actually needs doing.Monday was the disastrous Forecasting in-course assesssment which I won't discuss any further, as it will undoubtedly make me feel depressed, not to mention stupid.
I finally got my hair cut on Tuesday morning. Heidi didn't take off as much length when I saw her before Christmas, so my hair was really getting quite long and the layers needed to be tidied up (not to mention my fringe, which could have qualified as a curtain). I was feeling slightly more adventurous so I asked her to go a bit shorter, and make the layers a bit choppier whilst still keeping the layers long. She point-cut into the ends and worked some sort of wizardry on the rest of the hair, ran some straightening irons through so the layers were more defined, and then proceeded to make them even choppier. I have no idea what else she did, but I love the result. My hair hasn't been this short in ages - it just about grazes my shoulder, and could qualify as swingy supermodel hair. I love it.
Tuesday night was a night out with friends. Dinner was at Satsuma in Soho, where I ate 'like a horse', according to my friends. They are all male, and I happen to eat more than they do, which is a rather embarrassing and disgusting habit I really ought to stop (i.e. eat before meeting with them, and nibble daintily at a salad when I'm actually with them). Ocean's Twelve was slick, with a brilliant acid jazz soundtrack, but its plot was baffling at the best of times, terribly incomprehensible, with gaping plot holes. Its redeeming factor - Catherine Zeta Jones' wardrobe - all sharp tailoring and sky high heels. Very lovely. Plot aside, the film was enjoyable nonetheless. A romp. But a rather fluffy one indeed.
Today, just about my only female friend and I went shopping. I don't think I have ever shopped for over six hours straight, and it wasn't that we shopped till we dropped - we simply shopped till we weren't actually allowed in any more shops because they were closing. We were looking for things to wear/accessorise for my birthday party, and needless to say it was a very productive (too productive, in fact) shopping session. I bought two small make-up items, two basic scoop necked cotton tops for everyday wear, a gold shell necklace, a pair of kitten heeled court shoes for spring, and shoe insoles (very exciting). I didn't spend very much, as most of the things I bought were either inexpensive or on sale, but it felt like I did because I had picked up so many little things. It is rather nice having a female companion whilst shopping - they actually offer an opinion, instead of a grunt and an 'I'll be waiting outside' as my male friends do.
Tomorrow and Friday will be spent grocery shopping. D and I need to pick up some food and drinks for the pre-dinner drinks, and I'm letting him get the alcohol (last time I tried, I got carded, so I won't push my luck in attempting to buy several full size vodkas, rums, wines - in the eyes of overzealous cashiers I still apparently look under 18). Then I have to clean my flat as it is in a rather sorry state.
Saturday is a big day - my parents arrive in the morning, and then my birthday party is at night. The party was inadvertantly planned before I knew that my parents would be in London, and they have been very good about me not spending that evening with them. I've already warned them that I will probably be stumbling home at 3 a.m. completely pissed. Keith has suggested that I get my parents drunk, and imagine my dad 'making little winky lovey dovey faces at [my mum], and [my] mum all red faced and giggly'. For those who know my parents, I'm sure you can envision why I nearly fell off my chair giggling at that image.
If any of you can suggest a way to factor work into all of this, do let me know...
L'Esthete @ 23:46
