If we could all close our eyes…

….To all the things we know that are wrong
We could live selfishly protected lives

I saw the most disgusting images that have ever crossed my sightlines tonight. In a magazine there were pictures of nurses posing with babies. Now okay, that sounds none too weird, but these were not healthy, bouncing bundles of joy. They were premature lil bubbas still attached to feeding tubes and oxygen. These sick and twisted humans were sticking the teenie tiny humans in their pockets or making them wave their hands, balancing them in their palms.

My heart shattered into a million pieces of hurt when I saw these photos. The swells of anger crashing against my lungs making every breath hurt.

Now I know there are people out there that are not all too bright. People who do not have the same level of conscience that you or I have. But these women were all nurses. They have studied and trained to be in a profession where they are expected to show compassion, empathy and understanding far beyond what an average joe would. How can you take the most innocent creatures in the world, in their extremely fragile states no less, and abuse them for a few moments of pleasure like that?

This struck me harder than it might most people because I’ve stood in the neonatal intensive care unit and watched as my baby cousin lie there. His body no wider than your forearm. His tiny tummy heaving with every breath he took. I cannot imagine what I would have done had I found out the nurses at the hospital had done anything like that to him. Thankfully, they gave him so much love and attention. The things he needed to help grow into the absolutely amazing little boy he is now. It just breaks my heart to know the babies in these photos haven’t had the same respect, caring and love.

Sometimes I wonder why people still bring children into this sick and crazy world.


you might run on for a long time

run on, ducking and dodging…

So I’ve already started getting slack on updating this baby. Well I’m back. There is no rest for the wicked! Yes, I mean you!!

Ever asked yourself what happens when you mix a balcony of late 20 -> 30somethings with alcohol and balloons?

To be honest, neither have I. And now that I think about it, the balloons weren’t even necessary. Though apparently they provided a few people some fun.

Picture it:
Saturday Night. Stratford-upon-Avon. Lifelong (or mostly) friends gather to celebrate the engagement of their mates.

No no no. Not my engagement. No one celebrated that but me, Lee and the Super Sommelier at Fifteen.

I digress…

So hour after hour, round after round, champers after champers, finds these friends in quite a jubilant mood. As you looked around the room you saw nothing but smiles as you heard people talking about jobs, marriages, wedding plans, pregnancies; all of the things that would normally scare or bore the shit out of people. Seriously, you’ve never seen a lot look happier when talking about the people standing 2 feet away. Thank goodness for the extremely loud, quite deafening dj. It seems that was all he was good for.

But fast forward through the actual event bit. The most fun was had as soon as we walked through the doors into the crisp clean Shakespeare Country air. Visions of chips, burgers, kebabs and curries floated by, creating a hunger unparalled. The group of six seriously sozzled Stratfordians and my sober self set off on a mission. the usual 2 minute walk to the chippy, the 5 minutes to stand around and eat it and then the 15 minutes to dawdle home turned into nearly two hours. In that time, people randomly disappeared for pee breaks, I was taught what a Cockney copper on helium sounds like, bear hugs were exchanged, burnt out restaurants were investigated… but best of all… oh yes BEST of all had to be…

… my own Forrest Gump of a fiance.

Here’s the story:

Lee decides he needs to pee. Fair enough. He goes down some extremely dark alley and Sally and I decide we should hide. We tell the other two (yes, I can do maths.. the OTHER two had left us by this point) to hide as well. So there were stood on one of the main streets in Stratford, up against the display windows of Debenhams. From our oh so clever spots we could actually see our reflections in the shop windows across the street. Figuring we’d be rumbled, we decided to do it anyway… we’d still have fun.

Well… if Lee doesn’t first run past me… then fly by Sally… we tried to hold in our laughter as next he ran by Ricc and Matt. The four of us all looking at each other in disbelief as Lee took off down the road. We thought perhaps he was playing a trick on us, but we saw him check both ways for traffic, and then continue running and running down the road. My inability to stop laughing led him to realise that no…we were not the fastest walkers in town, but infact he had run past us over a block earlier.

It may not sound funny to you, but it was. I shan’t try and convince you because I don’t care. I laughed. And I even laughed again writing this.

Ahhhh Lee… what would I do without you!?

..start a new relationship….

Before anyone thinks they’re on the verge of finding out that I am leaving Lee or cheating on him or intending to do anything extremely silly like that… stop.

Yes, I am in love. And no, it is not with Lee. I mean I am in love with Lee, but I was not referring to him in this case.

But it is not a person that I am in love with. It is a thing and it is a feeling, and it is great.

I am in love with Harrods. Absolutely, unequivicolly, no doot aboot it, head over friggin’ heels!

Some people get this feeling of wonderment when they walk into Fao Schwartz in NYC. All of the toys, the levels, the giant stuffed animals, the step on keyboard from Big! It makes you feel all young and innocent and just happy to be where you are in the moment you are in.

Other people feel the same way when they unwrap the little blue box from Tiffany’s. You see the colour, you know where it is from and for that moment you feel as if you are the only girl in the whole world and there is no way someone loves anyone as much as you are being loved right then and there.

Not that I’ve ever been in FAO Schwartz. And although I’ve been in a Tiffany’s, I’ve never actually received anything from there.

But that is all okay, because I have somewhere that gives me that same giddy-on-the-inside feeling. Somewhere that makes me feel like I am living in a world of my own. Sure I am forced to share it with stuffy older women, rich arrogant men and throngs of tourists, but they do not even bother me when I am in the safe cocoon of Harrods.

THE Green Bags, the Hamper Station, the Luxury Jewellry, the Candy shop, the women’s designer collections, the sushi bar, oyster bar, deli, cheese bar, the skincare stations, Hermes, Louis Vitton, the stationary department. Even the little section on Lower Ground that is dedicated to Princess Diana and Dodi, with the used wine glass and the engagement ring. Sure it is a bit tacky, but it is all part of Harrods and who Mr. Al Fayed is and what he’s made of that shop.

In Christmas the place is lit up with amazing display windows and thousands of lights. Around Valentine’s Day they have models in PVC nurse uniforms bent over men in suits on therapist’s sofas in the windows.

I don’t know what it is, I just love it. Wandering the food halls, seeing fruits and vegetables I cannot get anywhere else, giggling at the silly punters lined up for the WAY over priced Krispy Kreme doughnuts, taking various escalators and stairwells up and down and marvelling at what I find along the way. You never have to buy, although I often do.

You can people watch for hours. Try not to laugh when tourists bump into things, or attempt to withhold your shock when the person standing next to you buys a £17500 watch, while you clutch onto your £15 worth of purchases thinking .oO(Sucker!!!!!!!!).

There is no other way to describe the place other than my own personal heaven on Earth. It is like my little piece of Utopia in big, bad England.

If Lee ever leaves me, I am going to pursue Mr. Al Fayed like a madwoman. Or get a job there!


Miracle on 34th Street

Actually, I’ve never been on 34th Street so I’d know nothing about any miracles happening there. What I do know, is that I already know where I am staying for the wedding.

Which wedding? My wedding. Well “our” wedding since after all it is Lee’s too.

So, okay, go ahead and say it because I know you want to. Why is it a miracle that I know where I am staying for an event that is only 100 days away? Because I didn’t think we’d know until the day before. Okay that was an exaggeration, but I can do that because I am in charge of this mofo and nobody can correct me.*

Anyway, the point is that we know where we’ll be and that is a nice feeling. I’ve got the song, the hotel, the caterer, florist, photographers, magistrate, cake maker, reception locale… everything but the music.

Two words: Sweet Ass.

*Lee may be able to correct me since he wears the geek pants in this family and can do all sorts of funky shiat to anything on my pc.

For months and months I have searched the internet for an mp3. I was determined to have this song played at my wedding. Sure I have the cd, but it is packed away in a box in Canada and I was not going to buy another cd just so I could have one song. Remember yesterday’s post? I am cheap like that!

So, search after fruitless search, I made a random comment today about wanting this mp3. Out of nowhere like a genie popping out of a lamp, but not looking anything like Christina Aguilera or sounding like Robin Williams, Neil (of SamNeilSam’s blog semi-fame) asks me which mp3. So I told him, knowing in my heart of hearts that I’d still end today on a search for it.

But NO! He not only had it, but within minutes had sent it to me. I swear. If you were at my house you’d be tearing out your hair right now or looking for something to stick in your ears because I cannot stop playing it over and over.

Thank you, Neil! Thank you for my Sarah mp3! You have brought my whinging to an end! You have out years back on Lee’s life that he would have lost through my further moaning about not being able to find it.

You Da Man!


People… oh how they confuse me.

Fair enough, people all have different outlooks, views on life, morals, ethics etc. Some people don’t have any. And then there are those who just blow my fucking mind with their logic. Okay, now I am not the most logically sound person you’ll ever meet (that’s if you’ll actually ever meet me), and I’ve got no issues admitting that. But I also do not complain about the results of applying my twisted logic to a situation, rather than reality.

If I forget to press the start button on the dryer, I am not going to blame Hotpoint for making a machine that doesn’t read my mind. Nor am I going to blame my mother for giving me a dryer as a housewarming gift. Instead I will laugh about what a complete and utter tool I am, shake my head at myself and carry on carrying on. And if it didn’t start because it was broken, then I would just have to go back to air drying the clothes and stare at the machine for the next 3 months wondering what I did to break it, waiting for a MacGuyver style solution to pop into my mind. Then I would buy a new one.

If I want £100, I am not going to sit on the sofa and wait for the £Fairy£ to secretly tuck the note under my lazy arse. No, I am going to do whatever I can to get it. Even if it means working a job that some people may think is ‘below’ me. In fact, if I was only going to do something that was ‘equal’ to my intelligence level… well obviously I’d never work again since they’ve not invented a position for someone as brilliant as myself.

If I wanted something REALLY nice and REALLY expensive. I’d probably sit around and say how much I loved it and how badly I wanted it, and proceed to tell myself why it would be ridiculous to purchase it. If it doesn’t say SALE it MUST be a rip off. Anyway, had I gone ahead and bought said waytooexpensiveforwhatitis item, then I’d have to suck it up and not moan and bitch about not being able to pay the water bill or heating bill etc.

Anyway, my point is that… people confuse me. Logic should be bitchslapped across the faces of those who apparently are downing in the sea of reality without it.*

*This of course excludes me as I am happily floating along thankyouverymuch!


A Whole New World

So here we go. The world has just become a little more dangerous!

Lee has let me loose on the Internet!!!!!

That’s right. Not only my own website, but a blog to boot. Just how special am I?! If you do not know the answer to that, you will soon find out. I am pretty damned special. In a helmet wearing, short bus riding, special Olympic kinda way. But you love me. Or you will love me. Trust me. I’m honest. Some people tell me too much so. They’re wrong! See.. the honesty thing again.

Anyway, that’s it until I figure this crap out.