Thursday, 23 December 2010

You nearly lost me

I nearly died this morning.

It was more tense than this.

And worse than this.

And even scarier than this.

Yes my friends, I braved the Marks and Spencer's food hall.

Every year my dear Mutti and I tackle the big Christmas shop at Marks and, just to blow our own trumpets, we rock at it. We are fast, efficient and are able to duck and weave through people to snap up the last of the pigs in blankets.

But today was insane - I don't know if people have just got some extra crazy this year but it was just manic. People everywhere, randomly snatching things of shelves, I had a woman tell me that I was 'a selfish, unChristmassy bitch of a girl' as I got the last remaining two extra thick double creams (why don't you order more of these every year M&S - there are never enough!), indeed the woman then tried to snatch one from my trolley. Full of Christmas spirit.

There was a woman crying in the Christmas pudding aisle as they were out of the super luxury ones and 'she just couldn't serve the classic one' and, of course, it wouldn't be Marks and Spencer's if, amidst all this, there weren't lots of little old people who have come out especially, just two days before Christmas, to buy a loaf of bread and Hello magazine* - why do they do that, why not go to their corner shop?

After queuing for an hour and realising that we had forgotten our two £5 off vouchers, we finally escaped. Did we get more than we needed? Probably. Did we not get things that we really should have? Possibly (I wanted those mini roast beef Yorkshire puddings more than anything!).

So now, I am finally at home, making some last minute chocolate and mint bark and some cinnamon and apple vodka and looking forward to a nice glass of my favourite white wine (3pm to early) and watching a couple of my favourite Christmas films before the madness starts.

My to do list is already as long as my arm and I am convinced I am going to forget something but fingers crossed.

x

*incidentally, have you seen Nicole Ritchie's wedding in Hello? It is an.... interesting dress choice).

Double Chocolate Peppermint Crunch Cookies

Oh yes.... these are goooooooood!

Now there are two ways of making them, to start with, I am going to tell you the 'proper way':

Ingredients
350g bittersweet chocolate chips
225g plain flour
25g cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
110g unsalted butter, room temperature
110g caster sugar
110g soft brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon peppermint extract
2 large eggs
4 candy canes, coarsely crushed
Method
1. Preheat oven to 200°C. Line two baking sheets with greaseproof paper. Stir in about 300g chocolate chips in medium bowl set over saucepan of simmering water until melted and smooth. Take about 3-4tbsps of the melted chocolate; transfer to small metal bowl and reserve for drizzling.
2. Whisk flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt in medium bowl.
3. Beat butter in large bowl until creamy, you can use an electric mix for this but a wooden spoon will do it just as well, elbow grease it up!
4. To the butter add sugar and both extracts; beat until smooth. Add eggs; beat to blend. Beat in melted chocolate chips. Add in all the dry ingredients from step 2; beat just to blend. Stir in remaining unmelted chocolate chips.
5. Scoop up a small amount of dough and then roll into a ball (if you are being super specific then it is about a tablespoon amount of dough). Place on prepared baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough, spacing cookies 1 1/2 inches apart.
6. Bake cookies for about 8 to 9 minutes. They will be soft looking - as long as a knife tip comes out clean then they are done, don't make the mistake I made years ago when I was convinced they weren't done so put them back in over and over again - not good.
7. Cool cookies on baking sheet for about 5 minutes. Transfer cookies on parchment paper to racks to cool completely.
8. Rewarm the remaining already melted chocolate over small saucepan of simmering water. Using fork, drizzle chocolate over cookies. Sprinkle crushed candy canes over, arranging some pieces with red parts showing. Chill just until chocolate sets, about 20 minutes.

These are sooooo good and also freezable. Just defrost at room temperature and enjoy!

Now the naughty but easy way:

Ingredients
Double chocolate cookie mix from any supermarket
Whatever other ingredients it says you need on the cookie packet (usually butter and water)
1 teaspoon peppermint extract
About 50g chocolate
4 candy canes, coarsely crushed

Method
1.Make the cookies from the supermarket mix as instructed
2. When you add the water into the mix, also add in the peppermint extract
3. Once the cookies have been cooled, melt the chocolate (as above) and then drizzle over the cookies, decorate with the candy canes, chill and serve!

Now, the second way is the cheat's way but they taste just as good, leave less mess, use less ingredients and take up less time. Plus, with the decoration they will look homemade anyway!

And they should look something like this:



Image shamelessly nicked from the Goddess that is Prudence Pennywise!

Mince Pie Ice Cream

As promised, my delicious Christmas Mince Pie Ice Cream. Last year this got devoured by everyone, even me and I don't like mince pies!

All you need is some sort of blender/food processor (yep - this isn't a technical recipe, think easy and tasty).

Ingredients
9 mince pies
1 litre of soft scoop vanilla ice cream
Things for toppings - sprinkles, sherry, cherries

Method
1. Leave the ice cream out of the freezer until quite soft.
2. Transfer to a blender or food processor, then crumble in the mince pies (I was told without lids but it works fine with them) and blend until smooth - this took me and my super brilliant button pressing finger about five minutes.

3. Return the mixture to a plastic container and freeze for 2-3 hours until firm.
4. Serve with yummy toppings like sprinkles, crushed nuts and even a bit of sherry if you are feeling naughty. You can even serve with a mince pie on the side if you want to super indulge.

This year I am attempting the same thing with Christmas pudding and an extra gag one of sprouts, mainly to torture my brothers.

Come back at 1pm for my Peppermint Chocolate Cookie recipe - YAHUMMY!

Wednesday, 22 December 2010

Tis the season to save money



Christmas is my season. I love everything about it. It is the time of year I look forward to the most, it is the time of year I plan for, it is all about the event for me; family, togetherness, food, drink, laughter - you know the drill. And every year I go a little crazy. Think Martha Stewart but without any of the creative talent - I totally think I can make homemade decorations and at least eleven types of Christmas themed baked goods (FYI, this year Christmas Pudding Ice Cream is on the 'to make' list after last year's Mince Pie Ice Cream success - recipe will appear tomorrow after tonight's hopeful success!).

Now while I do succeed on some of these superwoman tasks, there is one area that I never fail on:

BUYING THINGS.

Yep, I try and compensate for my complete uncreativeness with lots of bought items! I am sure some of can sympathise?

There was the year I bought a four foot cracker that I carried back from London on a train and ended up never getting pulled (2005). The year I popped out on Christmas Eve to pick up some last minute bits and pieces only to come home £200 worse off as I spotted an extra gift for two people and therefore had to get extras for everyone else (2008). And, my personal favourite, there was the year that I spent three evenings straight working out how to rig the shoebox version of Deal or No Deal that I had made, so that my brothers (aged six and eight) would win the new Disney Cars DVD, no matter which box they picked (2006).

This is the time of year where my poor little purse gets the most battering (approaching the £2k mark last year - shhhhhhh!). Now this has left me in quite a quandary this year - due to the wedding (9 weeks on Saturday people....) I simply don't have the extra cash that I save throughout the year so spending has had to curbed and cut. Boo.

So instead of throwing money at the season, this year will follow the theme of fun and frugal.... fungal if you will - wait, that doesn't quite work does it?!

I am collecting some cheap but season of goodwilly (hee hee hee) ideas. Do you have any?

So far I have written a super fun Christmas quiz for all the family and, as a lovely Christmas gift to you all, I will happily email it to you with answers if you like - perfect look-how-much-effort-I-have-put-in-for-a-fun-filled-family-day activity.

Tomorrow I will also be posting some cost effective Christmas recipes including Mince Pie Ice Cream and Peppermint Double Chocolate Cookies - all super easy and super tasty.

Anyone got any other fun, cost effective Christmas tips?

You can have my autograph later

This weekend, Steve and I went to Manchester. We shopped (more on that in this afternoon's post) and ate and were generally merry.

After a busy last day, wearily we made it to the station and, with an hour to kill and a temperature of -13, we made it to the slightly chavvy pub at the top of the station.

As soon as we got in there I could tell something was weird... the staff were all whispery and super smiley. We ordered drinks (to celebrate our just remembered sixth anniversary), ate some food and enjoyed ourselves, all the time with pub staff nudging each other and smiling at us manically.

About 15 minutes before our train, we started to get our stuff together (Steve is one of those people who feels the need to wait by the train for at least ten minutes), Steve went off to the bathroom.

While he was gone, one of the bar people came over to clear the glasses, she glanced up at me:

Nice Bar Lady: I hope you have a good journey.

Me: Thank you, you too! Merry Christmas! (Don't ask me where I thought she was journeying to.... although she probably doesn't live in the pub in Piccadilly station. That would be weird).

Nice Bar Lady: (Glancing around) I just wanted to say as well, we all really love you and your husband here.

Me: (Unsure of what to do): Oh.... thank you.

Then the Nice Bar Lady looked over at the other staff who were all gathered together smiling like insane people, she did a big thumbs up accompanied by a little excited dance. All the other staff waved at me, bouncing about as they did so.

Steve returned from the loos and we very quickly left.


The Steve and I, when we were a little younger and cuter


Now, apart from the Boaz Myhill incidents, there is no-one we look like. At all. Especially not as a couple.

Who on earth did they think we were?

Friday, 10 December 2010

OK.... lets clear something up

Before I start - this is certainly not aimed at you, you lot always get my name right. However....

my name is spelt LIVY.

That is L - I - V - Y

It is not Livvy, Livi, Livvi, Livie, Lyvvy, Lyvi, Leevy or Levi. It is also not Libby, Lizzie or Lyddy.

It is short for Olivia.

That is O - L - I - V - I - A

It is not Oliver, Olivier or, my personal favourite, Alyvia.

Now we are hitting card season, please try and get it right, it is my name!

Just to be clear - I have no issue with you getting it wrong first time, 'Livy' is an unusual name and unless you have been told then it is all guess work.

BUT....

when I have already sent you a card, with my name clearly at the bottom or if I have spelt it out to you in the past or if you have known me for 26 years and are related to me (oh yes....) then please, I beg you, respect the fact that it is my name and spelt a certain way and that, by not getting it right, you are basically just showing that you really couldn't give a monkeys.

Thank you.

Livy xxxxx

ps I met another Livy last week but her name was short for..... Sullivan! x

Thursday, 9 December 2010

Merry Christmas

Is something ever so beautiful to you that you feel like you want to cry?

My Christmas tree is.

Every year since I have had my own flat, I have insisted on a real Christmas tree. It's something I just can't compromise on. And Steve always complained. Always said a pretend one would do. But he always gave in and I always bought a beautiful real tree.

Today my 2010 tree arrived. And it is just gorgeous.

I arrived home at 8.30, after a long, 12 hour day, to find that my Steve had managed to get my tree in the stand, angling it perfectly so that it branched out all evenly and strongly. He had carefully wound the lights round, making sure that there wasn't an inch that didn't have a brilliant white light peaking through.

And then he watched quietly as I painstakingly unpacked all of the decorations that I have collected over time and carefully picked, and slowly decorated the tree, stopping every few minutes to ensure that there were no gaps.

Excuse the blurry picture. It truely is beautiful, I wish you could all come and see it for real.


Now I am sitting here, at the bottom of my tree, our tree, gazing up at it, marvelling in its beauty and wonder and loveliness.

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Baby scan*

For a very special project I am currently working on, I am scanning literally every photo I have. Every single one.

Now, being the precious, amazing first born that I am, that is a lot of photos of Baby Livy (FYI - newborn Livy through to one year old Livy = not so cute (see Exhibit A) but year old Livy through to five year old Livy = very, very cute (see Exhibit B)).

Exhibit A (but I luuurve the duck ball thing)


Exhibit B

So, last night I am scanning away and, as I am sure any of you would, I am overcome with awe at the adorableness that is Baby Moi. Therefore, while Steve is watching his incredibly dull Man-In-Socks programme (you know the sort, they send a boring man to somewhere, where he usually digs a bit or investigates something old or sciencey and then talks, a lot, about it**), I was stopping every two seconds to show him a new picture of me doing something.

He was bizarrely annoyed by this, I have no idea why.

Anyway, we got to one particular photo:




Me: Look at how cute I am on the ride.

Steve does not look

Me: (Waving the photo about a bit) Look at my cute hair!

Steve does not move his eyes from the TV

Me: (Brandishing the photo in a desperate way) Look at my little blue coat!

Steve finally takes the photo. He studies it.

Steve: Very cute. You look very serious though.

I snatch the photo back.

Me: I'm riding a motorbike - it is not time for fun and games Steve!

* Ha ha ha ha ha ha! I know what you all thought!

** The thing that annoys me the absolute most about those programmes is that they are all speculation! Nothing is actual. It is all... 'We can presume that such-and-such came from such-and-such because we found a pot in the correct 50 mile radius.' Tis all made up I tell you! x

Monday, 29 November 2010

Cluck cluck cluck

For I am a hen.


Oh yes, and on 20th November I had my weekend!
To start with, let me say two things:

1) This is going to be picture heavy - be warned

and
2) I had no involvement in the planning - which was AWESOME!

My bestest friend and my sister sorted the whole thing, from the location to the accommodation to the food to the activities to everything. And, it was the best ever. I couldn't have asked for anymore. Add into that all the help from my other bestest friends and you had the recipe for an amazing weekend.

We went to Manchester - my favourite city in the world. Since being there as a student, it is one of those places that just has everything for me and is always the place I choose to go for an idle (or not so idle) weekend. We stayed in a great apartment in the Northern Quarter - perfect for the purpose.


Friday night was the typically perfect start of Hen, the snacking, drinking and chatting. No going out, just getting to know everyone and telling awful stories (they had a wonderful game where they had all written down a memory of me and I had to guess who had said what - on the plus I got them all right, on the minus, it forced me into telling some AWFUL stories. Poor Bent George is all I have to say - who knew that nickname would stick?

Saturday we started with a champagne breakfast (all hen planners - do this! It completely got us over any sore heads and set us up for the day. Will the doctor approve? No. But you are doing this once - do it right!), followed by a trip on the Manchester eye and another quick drink in the markets (Apfelwein, how I love you...). Then on to the funnest thing ever: our cocktail making class.

Yep, all eight of us descended on Obsidian on Prince's Street (if you go, ask for Tom - don't mention my name, I have a feeling he was not overly fond of us in the end...) and had a private cocktail class. It was fabulous. We all got a cocktail of our choice to start with (French Kiss = yummy) and then got to (attempt to) make three more. I had assumed that this would involve trying a mouthful of each one.

Nope - we all got one each of the three we tried and, in addition, the 'makers' got the one they made, meaning that we all got five cocktails each. Plus a shot of champagne. And various other shots given for correct answers in the 'History of Cocktails quiz'.

Fast forward two hours and we all, very tipsily, left the bar. Three of us headed off to the shops to buy false eyelash glue and ended up getting thrown out of Debenhams for taking photos of a man doing a knife demonstration (I was so close to getting my free cuts-through-steel-knife)...

You can just see Mr Knife Man

Just as we were being told to leave
That evening we went out for a delicious meal at a restaurant run by a Peter Andre obsessed man and then on to a club to see the superstars that are.......

Mr-I-love-Peter-Andre
BELLE AMIE!

Yep, the girl group who were in X Factor. Whether it was through pity that their tickets were only £6 or the fact we were running on a lot of alcohol, we all cheered wildly as they performed the same three songs they did on X Factor along with the same dance routines...





And then all that was left was for us to stumble home to sleep and then pour our sorry, hungover selves, onto trains the next day.

All in all, the best weekend ever. A massive thanks to my brilliant friends - they really made it a fabulous time.



Snow....

I am in love.

Every year I get giddy when the skies open and the snow falls, I mean, is there anything more luxurious and child-like and brilliant? Yes, it disrupts things and yes it is cold but isn't is glorious?

Here is not-so-sunny Hull, we have lashings of snow. Tis everywhere. And I have loved stomping about in it this weekend in my Doc Martins which I have owned since the age of 14.

Steve? Well not so much.

He was stagging it up in Newcastle this weekend so, of course, phone of Livy was mainly dealing with Hungover Steve (not the funnest type of Steve incidently), moaning on the phone all day yesterday about being stuck on a train.

I had little sympathy, I mean, I was cosied up in our flat, making a list of all the Christmas cards I needed to send, with the heating on AND the window open, watching palm sized snowflakes float to the river below. I also watched The Family Stone, one of my favourite Christmas films ever.

All good in Land of Livy.

ps. Sorry for lack of postage, in my absence I had my hen do! Eeeek - report to come soon! But the main reason for my desertiness (that is so a word) is that, I just haven't felt like writing. I don't know why but I hope I am clearly over that now.

pps. 3 weeks, 5 days till Christmas!! x

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Just in case then I love you all

So apparently lots of people have predicted that the world will end today. I don't know why specifically and, given that it is nearly quarter to two in the afternoon, the prospect is seeming more and more unlikely.

It got me thinking however, I have always loved a good disaster movie. A teen of the 90s, I grew up on Independence Day (why hello Mr Smith and Mr Goldblum...), Armageddon and Deep Impact. There is nothing as exciting than watching the world in some sort of unending peril and, of course, berating them for the silly choices they make (DON'T STAND ON THE BEACH - THE ASTEROID IS GOING TO PLOUGH INTO THE OCEAN!).

Upon meeting Steve, I discovered it was a film genre love we shared, indeed, pretty much the only one (war films don't count Mr!).

It was a few years ago, after watching The Day After Tomorrow, that Steve became enthralled with working out what we would do in the same situation. He came up with a plan:

1. If we are separated then we get back to our flat asap. When there we assess whether we can make it to both our families in a nearby village (you think this sounds sweet don't you? It's not. He remembered that they have fireplaces and we don't).
2. Once in our decided upon safe house, we fill the bath up with water (in case the water supply gets infected) to drink and assess the amount of food we have.
3. We find things to burn (he suggested old school reports).
4. If the worst comes to the worst then we eat the whatever we can find, even if that means the Tofu in the back of the freezer.

There were probably more complex points but, to be honest, I really wasn't that interested at the time.

But now I am having a swift rethink. There are multiple ideas on what might end the world today but, whatever it is, I think I am wholly unprepared.

I have very little food in, I mean, microchips and dried pasta isn't going to get me very far is it? Plus I've just realised I don't have any good shops nearby to loot. I'd be fine for sweets, cigarettes and nasty cider but the big Tesco is a lengthy walk away and getting there would significantly up the risk of meeting zombies/freezing to death.

I should have really thought of this before we moved in.

Sunday, 7 November 2010

Henny Penny calling...


I need help ladies of Britain (and indeed the World). Hen weekend is in precisely 12 days and I have yet to find the perfect day outfit.

Let me explain....

On the Friday night, we are staying in so outfit = cute jammies, possibly some cute, Ugg-inspired slippers. DONE.

On the Saturday night, we are out on the town for a meal and wherever the night may take us = Mad Men inspired steel grey dress which I may or may not get shortened depending how slutty I feel in the next few days. DONE.

On the Saturday day, we are having a cocktail lesson and a professional photographer will be capturing the event (mental note, avoid all rum based cocktails, they make your face do that bizarre lopsided smile) = super cute, casual yet cool day outfit. NOT DONE.

Just for some background, I am not a stylish girl. I have moments of brilliance occasionally, but these are pure fluke, generally I am a tight fitting black (if you are lucky, grey) t-shirt/top/vest girl, with jeans. Evening wear comprises of the aforementioned or a dress. Now shoes and bags I do so it will come as no surprise to you that I got the super lovely ankle boots for the day portion of the hen do very easily (Moda in Pelle, £39.50, down from £70 thank you very much).



Today, after getting a hole in one pair of day jeans and tearing a pocket off the other (twas a bad week for Jeans of Livy), I decided to go jeans shopping. With a bad cold. And no voice. Yep, that's right, I was mute.

Turns out, it is a total skinny jean world out there and I am not a skinny jean girl. With relatively slim calves but mahosive thighs, they do not give the impression of 'you-are-getting-married?-what-a-lucky-man-he-must-be', more 'you-are-getting-married?-really?-you-resemble-a-weeble'.

After attacking Topshop, I hit Oasis. And Zara. And River Island. None of which I found The Jeans.

As a quick aside, try signing 'No, these weren't right and made my arse look like a small volcano' to the changing room shop assistant.

So, where do I go? Where do I find the perfect I'm-so-cute-and-sexy-and-casual-yet-smart-bride-to-be-jeans?

And what do I wear them with? So far, I only have the boots and, honestly girls, the pre-wedding diet has not been so successful that I could just get away with them for the day.

Or should I abandon the jeans and pair the boots with something else?

HEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

ps how fab does my hen do sound? Aren't my girls the best? I have had absolutely no involvement with it and I can't wait!!!

pps I am loving being called 'Henny'

pps if I was an actual hen, I would be a black one like the one at the top of the post. The Higgledy Piggledy nursery rhyme was always my favourite when I was little xx

Saturday, 30 October 2010

Seems there is a limit to our love

Last night I asked Steve if he thought we'd ever get divorced (I know, a bizarre thing to ask only four months before our wedding but, hey, unromantic as it is, these are the weird things I think of).

He pondered his response,

"No angel, I don't think we ever will."

A big smile came across my face as I imagined Steve and I as little old people getting afternoon tea (why I don't know as we don't do that now, plus, according to the Science Museum, I won't be the cutest of old ladies).

He continued,

"I mean, I might consider divorce if you went really weird or obese"

I stopped, open mouthed,

"You would divorce me if I got fat?"

"Now wait, I was careful not to say that, I said OBESE. Like, I'd divorce you if we had to remove a wall of the house just to get you out."

I am silent.

Seeing my crossness, Steve continues,

"Don't look at me like that, I've seen you demolish a whole mozzarella steak straight from the packet."

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

And it was gooooooooood....

Hola!
I went to the fair. And I MADE my little brothers go on the waterslide. It was AWESOME! Worryingly the water was fluorescent blue. Like massively, hot-August-day-sky blue. We then trudged, soggy through the rest of the fair, enjoyed the horses - you HAVE to go on the horses at the fair - mine was called Lavelle Dior, which I felt was a totally appropriate Fair Horse name, went on the Bumper Cars, twice and braved a ride called the Super Bob, which, half way round blew 'snow' in your face (read foam).

All of this was fueled by the chips we had on the way in (YAHUMMY!). Now, when at Hull Fair, there is an unwritten rule. You always get your chips from Bob Carvers. Always. This is a very bizarre rule but one that everyone adheres to - indeed, so much so that the queue for Bob Carver's stall is legendary, snaking all round the stall and the ones nearby (I sneaked it this year, turns out just loitering by the counter will get you served a lot quicker).

The Bob Carver choice is bizarre mainly because Bob Carver's does not travel with the fair. It is a business in the city centre that simply set up a stall in the fair each year. The people of Hull can get Bob Carver's chips all year round, any day of the week, from one of the two shops in town. Do they? No. It is Fair specific.

After we had enjoyed the rides, we made our way back down the street, buying candy floss and cinder toffee, brandy snap and toffee apples, on the way. And, of course, finished it off with a big, hot roast pork butty with stuffing and apple sauce.

The fair rocked this year.

ps. my super fun (you betcha) language post went up for all of 10 minutes on Monday before handily deleting itself! I will be attempting to rewrite it today/tomorrow and will get it up asap! Pinky promise! xx

Thursday, 14 October 2010

Where have the smarts gone?

I used to have them. Really, I did.

I used to be able to tell you about language endangerment and specific studies into the development of child speech. I used to be able to talk, for almost 10 minutes, about click languages and lexical functional grammar. I used to be able to read and write in phonetics, I could even make some of the more bizarre sounds.

Now, I can't.

I have, however decided, that the knowledge must still reside in my brain somewhere, it doesn't just disappear, so, with a little bit of study, I am sure I can get it back.

So, that is my aim. And, I hope you don't mind, but I am roping you lot in.

Every week, I will be doing a post on something fun* that I have learnt from my Linguistic studies.

Look out for post number 1 - next Monday!

x

* Disclaimer..... I think it is fun! If you are anything like Steve, you will think that linguistic facts are dull with a capital D.

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

Ah.... me love

I love autumn. Tis my favourite season.

As soon as August fades, I get a lovely tingly feeling in my toes, knowing that the best is just round the corner.

For me, Autumn means pure excitement. It means new gloves, windy weather, crunchy leaves and conkers. It means the Fair (YEYYYYY!), Halloween and Bonfire Night. It means that it is just a hop, skip and a jump away from Christmas (double YEYYYYYYY!).

On that note, I need some advice:
  • To watershoot at the Fair or not? Every year, when at the Fair, my two little brothers and me (and a reluctant Steve) go on the Log flume. I LOVE it. However this year, I have been informed by said brothers that this year they are not so much up for it (I think the oldest's (aged 12) exact words were, 'Ummm.... no Liv, I mean, how dry?'. Which just makes no sense. The log flume is anything but dry). So, the dilemma now is whether to be Mean Big Sister and force them (so I can get my annual picture of us all just as we go down the biggest shoot) or be Lovely Undry Big Sister and realise that, perhaps, going on a water shoot with your 26 year old sister is not so cool anymore (although I'll bet the boys a few years older than them at school would disagree....).
  • Does Fair food count calorie wise? I mean, for pre-wedding diet, it must = V V V V V BAD. But surely, if I eat it when walking, it sort of cancels it out?
  • What shall I be for Halloween this year? In recent times I have pulled off the witch, the bat and the cat and not so much pulled off the spider (there were leg issues). Ideas for this year?

This is actually Hull Fair. I LOVE it.

Gracias amigas xx

Monday, 11 October 2010

All we need is Radio Gaga

Every morning I wake up with a song in my head. Without fail. It is one of my favourite things actually, it comes in that dozy, early morning bit, when you are transitioning from sleep to wake, you know the bit where, if you checked your clock, it would be 10 minutes until your alarm.

It can be any song in the world.

This morning, for example, it was 'Dynamite' by Taio Cruz, yesterday it was 'Ooom pah pah' from Oliver.

The most disturbing part?

That once the song has finished, my voice appears in my head, acting as a DJ...

"And that was Taio Cruz's 'Dynamite'. Great song to get you going in the morning. Next up we have Pixie Lott's 'Mama Do'....."

Brain of Livy = crazy place to live.

Friday, 1 October 2010

And then I kicked him in the shin

Yesterday, I offered to tell Steve a secret, but only if he would tell me one in return. He said he had no secrets. I told him that my secret was my biggest unrequited crush from my teenage years - the one boy I liked for a long time who never showed any interest whatsoever - and said I'd tell him who it was if he'd tell me who HIS biggest unrequited teenage crush was.

His answer?

"Unrequited crush? Never had one."

So in punishment for his cockiness I am going to tell you all about when he was 19. He was out with some friends and saw a girl he liked, he then proceeded to get drunk. So drunk in fact that when he went to dance to said girl, he closed his eyes only briefly and then fell on top of her.

So there.

ps sorry about the lack of postage, it is due to honeymoon busy stuff, work busy stuff and basic laziness!

pps love you Steve.... x

Friday, 17 September 2010

The long and the short of it

Steve is 6'4".

I think that, by anyone's standards, that is tall. Except, perhaps, in Steve's family. For he is the shortest, oh yes, a relevant titch. You see his brother is 6'6" and his Dad is 6'8".

Tis like being with a family of giants.

Having been out with many men in the past.... wait, not many men, proportional to my age I am sure that it is pretty average.... except I have been with Steve for five and a half years now so therefore the number that I had at 20 is only minus one from the number now.... sod it. Fine there were many men. Anyway, I got lost there. So, yes, out of all the men I dated in the past, Steve is the tallest. The others have varied from the tall, to the average, to the small (bless Gabriel, despite what Steve may say, he was not an actual midget, merely 5'2").

I would like to say that all of this multiheighted dating was done as research, all in anticipation of this post but that would be a lie. No, I was just unfussy in my youth (unheightest if you will). Anyway, here are my findings:

Pro tall:
  • I can always wear heels, no matter the height
  • It is muchos handy round the house, in fact my Nana actually books Steve in to change lightbulbs
  • I always feel teeny which, when you have ginormous boobies and a curvy bum, is totally a plus
  • Tall men are totally cute with teeny tiny children
Of course, with every up there must be a down...

Anti tall:
  • I constantly have to change the shower position, which when you are naked and cold and stood in the bath, is not good.
  • People cross over from you when you walk down the street with said tall man, granted, Steve had shaved his head but the glaring like you must kill puppies isn't the best
  • Tall men were never teeny tiny babies. Both Steve and his brother were nearing the stone mark when born. Steve was too big for the cot in the hospital. The risk of giant babies looms constantly over me, I have nightmares of a grown man exploding out of my stomach complete with brief case, cigar and bowler hat. Adoption may be the way forward.
It seems that tall is the way to go boy wise - any wise thoughts from you lot? x

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

This Wednesday I am mainly....

loving my newly painted grey nails.

So there.


ps I have also worked out how to email photos from my phone to my computer (I am approximately 3 and a half years behind everyone else), although I have no idea why it has a grey band at the bottom, maybe it was trying to co-ordinate with my rocking nails? xxxx

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Because I am a little lazy

I saw this on a friend's blog and thought it would be fun. Bold the ones you have done and then post it on your blog! (The explanation mark comes from the original post, it is actually not that exciting).
1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band (well not technically played, more invaded some instruments in a club while the band were on a break. I strummed for about 1 and a half minutes before being asked to kindly leave)

4. Visited Hawaii (hopefully on the honeymoon!)

5. Watched a meteor shower (yep and found it quite dull)

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland or Disneyworld (nope - my Mummy obviously didn't love me enough)

8. Climbed a mountain (when I was 9 years old. And never done it since)

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo (several times although why I don't know, I'm not exactly tuneful)

11. Bungee jumped (hell no and I won't be. Ever.)

12. Visited Paris (yep and, in my humble opinion, best time to go is November. So there.)

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea (no, what a random thing to do)

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch (as everyone who knows me will testify, I am unteachable at art. Seriously no talent or aptitude whatsoever.)

15. Adopted a child (no... although I might like to)

16. Had food poisoning (nope, even after eating raw chicken at uni to see what would happen. Stomach of iron apparently).

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables (Livy's Hand = Hand of Death)

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France (YES! Finally another I have done! It is a lot smaller in real life)

20. Slept on an overnight train (No, but I have slept on a regular train, in the day)

21. Had a pillow fight (Obviously)

22. Hitch hiked (No, but I have been in a car that picked up a hitch hiker. That was a disturbing day).

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (but don't tell my boss)

24. Built a snow fort (many a time)

25. Held a lamb (not only that I have birthed a lamb on my uncle's farm)

26. Gone skinny dipping (shhh)

27. Run a Marathon (No, and unlike everyone I know, I have no plans to. It seems a very long way.)

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse (Yes and I marked the occasion by making an eclipse cake)

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run (I don't even know what one of these is)

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person (well technically, I was only 18 months old though. And my parents went on the boat ride LEAVING ME WITH A TOTAL STRANGER)

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors (This was so designed for Americans wasn't it? Well, I've been to Wales and I've been to Norfolk)

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied (do I have my diamond shoes yet....)

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing (in hindsight, it was a mistake...)

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke (I don't actually think I have!)

42. Seen Olde Faithful Geyser Erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (Why would I do that....?)

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted (well, sketched by the a caricaturist)

48. Gone deep sea fishing (Well I went fishing on a boat in the ocean, does that count as deep sea? My Tante Vreni got a fish hook in her arm).

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (several times, it is awesome but generally windy and you just can't help but want to throw a penny off the top. I didn't.)

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theatre

55. Been in a movie or on a TV show (including once excellent news report where all you see is 14 year old me walking back and forth in the background)

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business (a card making business when I was 7. It was very successful.)

58. Had an encounter with a wild animal

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies

62. Gone whale watching (again, perhaps on honeymoon)

63. Got flowers for no reason (I am that great)

64. Donated blood, platelets, or plasma (a little bit too anaemic unfortunately. Steve does it every few months though)

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp (no, but my Grandad was one of the first soldiers to go into one at the end of the second World War)

67. Bounced a cheque

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favourite childhood toy (like all of them)

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar (YUCK!)

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job (yep, from the Co-op. Apparently I was not committed to the Co-op family.)

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone (No, thank goodness)

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person (again, hopefully on honeymoon)

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car (I don't think this will ever happen)

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper (the first time being when I was 3 and sang a solo in the nursery nativity. I then cried because I didn't want my photo taken. Always a diva).

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox (Yep, and measles and German measles and mumps. All before I was a year old).

89. Saved someone’s life (well I threw my Kitty out of the fire before I jumped, some people say that she is just a cuddly toy BUT SHE IS REAL!)

90. Sat on a Jury

91. Met someone famous (not only that but I was chatted up by Nigel Havers and referred to as 'a mystery blonde' in The News of the World when photographed with Harry Enfield - we worked together at the time).

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby (nope, on the to do list at some point though)

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

100. Taken a martial arts class
 
Wasn't that dull?

Monday, 13 September 2010

Some tips


Today I thought I would give you some excellent (and some not so excellent) tips:

Tips that deserve the title of Very Useful:
  • When putting a duvet cover on, use pegs to keep the corners in the corners.
  • When cooking sauces, add frozen vegetables to it and then mush them in so they are undetectable. Steve will then not moan about them. I'd imagine this would also work with small children.
  • Life is too short for ironing. No-one ever looked back on their life from their death-bed and thought, if only I had done more ironing.
  • Clean everything with white vinegar. Yes, everything will smell of vinegar but I think it smells nice. I really don't care if you do.
  • If you are about to jump out of a burning building, do not, I repeat, DO NOT, throw your phone out first. You will not find it amongst all the bushes for ages and will be seen as a lunatic by the nice policemen trying to help you.
  • To top and tail string beans easily, do it while they are still in the bag - tip to one side so all the ends line up, chop, then do the same with the other end.
  • Shave your legs with baby oil, makes them super soft.
  • If you're feeling lazy or unmotivated, get showered and dressed, do hair and make-up. Guarantee you'll suddenly feel more enthusiastic about the day ahead. Please note, this does not work if what you are in fact feeling lazy and unmotivated about is getting showered and dressed.
Tips that some people do not believe but I KNOW are correct:
  • If your neighbours are annoying, give them a rude comedy nickname, which you can mutter under your breath every time you see them.
  • If you eat a large quantity of sweet/fatty food, two or three minutes on the exercise bike will balance it out.
  • If you read the first three pages of The Times/Independent then people will think you are super clever and you will be able to comment on everything
  • If you put optics up in your kitchen then you will think it is a good idea to have a vodka and juice (for the fruit portion obviously) every night
  • Don't ring your Nana while drunk. She really won't find it as funny as you do.
  • Don't run when drunk - it only feels fast
  • When drunk and asked to walk in a straight line to get entry to a club, do not pretend you are walking a tightrope.
And finally the most important one of all:

*Don't try and melt your home waxing strips with your GHDs. you will end up with wax on your hair, but not the hair it is supposed to be on.*

Please feel free to share your tips, useful or from experience. Loves loves loves x

Friday, 10 September 2010

The hotness of me



Today I got persuaded into going to a Sixth Form Induction Day for work. I arrived and sneaked to the back where I went over my notes of what I had to say to the group of oh-so-cool 16 year olds when my turn came.

While doing this, the induction staff were running the always fun bonding activities, one of which was to go round the room and ask each learner to say one good thing about joining the sixth form and being on the induction.

There were the usual, unenthusiastic answers; no uniform, calling staff by their last name, more freedom etc....

Then they turned to one boy (who looked like a young, hot Robbie Williams - can I say that or is that very wrong? Sod it. He's 16 isn't he? He was quite cute, there I said it.) and asked him,

"What's the best thing about being here today?"

He paused.

Then,

"The mega hot woman stood behind me."

And he turned and pointed.

At me.

Oh yes people, I've still got it.

ps who knew 'mega' was back in?

Friday, 3 September 2010

Return of the blonde



Oh yes.

I suddenly realised tonight that our home insurance had run out. And, given that those adverts are on constantly, I decided to go on a certain comparison website to see what the best deal was.

I know, how grown up of me.

Anyway, it turns out that there are lots of very complicated questions when selecting home insurance, how much is in my flat? Do I count the 108 pairs of shoes? When you say over 400m away from water, does my flat count, given that it overlooks a river but is two stories up?

We managed to tackle most of these and then came to the following:

When do you want your policy to start?

That's easy, I think, today!

No, counters Steve, tomorrow.

"But what if our flat catches fire tonight? I have a history with fires you know Steve."

Steve looks exasperated, "I'll stay awake till midnight."

"Yes, but then you'll go to sleep! What if the fire starts then?"

"It'll be after midnight, so it'll be tomorrow and the policy will have started angel"

I pause. I think.

Steve continues, "Why... when did you think it would start?"

I pause again, knowing my answer is going to sound very silly.

In a small voice, "When I woke up."

Steve laughs outloud, so hard he can hardly breathe,

"You thought that the insurance company would start out new policy on the stated day, starting from when you woke up?"

Even smaller voice.

"Yes, I mean, that is when my tomorrow starts."

He has just about stopped laughing.

Thursday, 2 September 2010

The Boy who went one worse

In the summer of my lower 6th, just turned 17, I met Dave. He was lovely and again, had a car. He played me Destiny's Child songs down the phone and told me I was the most perfect girl he'd ever met. I admired his blatant honesty.

We happily dated for a fortnight, going to friend's birthday parties and the cinema. He decided that he would go to the local university instead of Edinburgh as he didn't want to leave me. Slowly but surely, I felt all the signs of teenage infatuation (also known as True Love to a 17 year old).

Then one night, he invited me to dinner at his parents' house. This was the moment I was waiting for. In my head, this was only one step away from a proposal.

So, dressed up, I went along to his house, and enjoyed a lovely meal with his lovely, if somewhat on edge, parents.

It took until dessert to find out why they were so on edge.

Turns out that Mr Dave not only had a girlfriend but a pregnant girlfriend at that.

And again came the sobs.

Wednesday, 1 September 2010

The Boy who Taught Me Romance

Freshly heartbroken from the Marine and his bad choice of names, I threw myself into going out and, while on one of these nights out, I met Grant. Grant was 21 and had a car. All big things to 16 year old Livy. I caught my hand in the club (the joy that was LAs in Hull) and told me I was pretty, all while staring at my top (which if I remember correctly had a picture of a hen with horns and the words 'Horny Chick' under it).

Ironically I had already kissed a boy that night, someone called Phil, Grant seemed like the obvious next step to complete the Mitchell Brothers set.

So kiss him I did, come 1am, we exchanged numbers and I went home, floating on a cloud, knowing that, where Mr Marine had failed, Grant would definitely be The One.

The next day this was confirmed with a text message; Grant told me how great it was to meet me and how he couldn't wait to see me again. I quickly arranged for us to go to my friend's birthday party on the following Friday night.

On the Friday he picked me up in his Skoda, and we went to the party, there we snogged in the corner and danced to Westlife before he drove me home. After 10 minutes of trying to persuade me to have sex with him in his car (I go for the classy ones), I left, again on a cloud of love.

The following Wednesday, I received a message from him saying I would be out on Saturday and why didn't I come out and stay with him over night, I could tell my parents that I was at a friends.

Being the good girl that I was, I said I didn't really want to and that I would feel strange staying at his house.

His house? he replies?

No, he meant a hotel, how could I stay at his house? What would his girlfriend say?

And so, heartbroken, I stopped texting him, sobbing my poor naive heart out.

A Marine? EEEEEEEEEK!

I have dated some pretty strange men in the past.

And I have been dumped for some pretty bizarre reasons.

The trials of my love life have been mentioned on here before; remember the Valentine's Day disaster? And the first kiss?

Well things only went downhill from there really. When designing this post, I made a mental list of all the weird boys and strange men and bizarre situations I can remember... suffice to say, I could be here all day so instead, you will get them broken down, over several posts over the next few days. Come back at 4pm today for entry number 2: The Boy who Taught me Romance.

Post first kiss, my next tryst with romance was with a boy in holiday in France, I was just 16, he was nearly 17 and, in France's hot July, we spent a fortnight kissing on the beach and, in a much more unsavory choice, a disabled toilet (what can I say, we were young and had been told off for loitering near the pool). We held hands and told each other how much we were in love, we planned to run away with each other after we got home, he was going to join the marines and I was going to go with him and be a doctor (I had yet to get my GCSEs so not sure how that was going to work). On the last night, we exchanged jelly bracelets (it was the summer of 2000) and cried about how our evil parents were tearing us apart.

We texted and called for a while after that, always telling each other how we would be together again, and then I found out the deal breaker.

As you may recall, I have been forever obsessed with names. I always planned what I would call my future babies. I dreamt of a boy then twin girls and read name books to decide what I would call them. I was therefore thrilled when Mr Marine said that he wanted the same!

Fate ,16 year old me decided, and I eagerly set about telling him my names, for my son, Ronan, he did not have a problem with but when it got to my twins, my beautiful twins, Britney and Billie (lets just remember which year this was people....) he had an issue.

He was fine with Britney ('Bit weird to call my daughter after a bird I want to do but it kicks ass' - he was a classy guy) but Billie - no. Firstly, he didn't want to do Billie and secondly, he wanted his daughter to be called:

Shannaleah.

Like chandlier but without the D.

And just like that our love was over.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Can you help?

Yep, Steve and I are still (STILL!) debating the honeymoon. We have got it down to a country - the good old US of A (although I am still having pangs for Brazil....) and when we'll go. And we have even got it down to the type of holiday - multicentre - and even two out of the three locations - Hawaii and Vegas but not the third.



So this is where you come in, I am hoping that my lovely readers are well travelled and would like to share their where to gos!

Our trip will comprise of:

4 days SOMEWHERE
7 days Hawaii (at the minute we're thinking Big Island - any tips?)
3 days Vegas

Where shall the somewhere be?




We have the whole of America to chose from!

We have considered the three obvious: LA, New York and San Fransisco.

LA - I'm just not too keen on, I want 'real' America
New York was our first idea but I am just thinking, is four days enough and it is tres expensive, probably worthy of its own holiday the following year perhaps....
San Fransisco - the main contender at the moment. I have been and liked it, Steve hasn't.




But is there anywhere else?

We are open to all suggestions - Mid West? Texas? Alabama? We'll do it! But we want things to do, interesting places to go and a central location.

So come on! Any of you crazy about Memphis or Oklahoma or Salt Lake City?

Big loves x

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

You better comment NOW!!

I am a pretty immediate person.

If I have an idea and tell someone about it, I want them to respond with an answer straight away. I was about to say before I even tell them but that would be mightily dissatisfying wouldn't it?

Likewise, if I enquire about something, an item I am thinking of buying, a play I may want to go and see, I get extremely annoyed if the company in question doesn't immediately get back to me.

Once an idea is in my head then I want it sorted at that precise moment.

Can I come to Birmingham the weekend of the 12th?

YES I CAN.... what do you mean you have to check if it works for your other friend? I can so lets do it. NOW!

It is the reason I once ended up in Blackpool with no-one to see, the reason I once booked 12 tickets to see Fame and ended up selling 6 of them on Ebay and the reason that my inbox is currently filling up with emails from 102 different Dessy stockists regarding the prices of bridesmaid dresses (anyone want to know the most cost effective place to buy Alfred Sung styles D446-449? Email me, seriously. I have a spreadsheet.).




So, in an effort to curb this habit (because it pisses everyone off. Including me, also, just reading back, why isn't 'habit' spelt like 'rabbit'?), I decided to actively seek out things that would try my patience, things that would make me wait.

So, when browsing notonthehighstreet.co.uk, I came across something I most desperately needed: an apron with the words 'Save Water, Drink Champagne'. I immediately go to purchase it. Now here, I would usually go straight to the 'Next Day Delivery' option. But instead, I pause, I ponder and I move my mouse just a centimetre to the side and click the big button that reads Standard Delivery.

And I feel pleased. I feel all proud of myself, I am obviously nearing full maturity and adulthood. I am feeling so proud in fact that I award myself one star on my reward chart in the kitchen (current categories 'Exercising for 30 minutes' 'Not eating cheese' 'Being generally lovely' and 'Not pinching Steve' - if I get 20 stars a week then I get a chuppa chup lolly; 30 and I get a Sylvanian Families baby).

Fast forward to that evening, I am getting antsy. I have tried to tell Steve about the apron, and, apart for some droll comment about it being of no use whatsoever as I don't cook (he lies!), he seems remarkably unimpressed.

He'll eat his words tomorrow, I gleefully think.

And then I remember.

5-7 working days!

The next day, I deliberately told a colleague the truth; that I didn't need the advert sign off right away, that the deadline wasn't until the following day, that she had time to look over it. No rush.

The day after, I asked Steve if he had sorted out when he'd be finishing work on Saturday so we could go to our 6 month venue meeting. He hadn't. And I smiled sweetly and just asked if he could look into, it being only a week away.

See, progress.

Except, I am now sitting here, new apron on (I accidently called the website and pleaded with them to express it for an inordinate amount on money), emailing the venue to confirm the time after standing over Steve while he sorted out his working day. And the colleague? Yep, she's no longer talking to me after a not so patient, red marked email.

Sunday, 22 August 2010

The joy of Steve

Steve is reading the paper.

After laughing at the majority of the headlines, he comes to the personals.

"Shy female seeks experienced males"

He pauses.

"Well she can't be that shy if she's decided to put it in the paper."

Friday, 13 August 2010

The weekend

First of all, can I say a big thank you to you all for the support I got after Wednesday's post. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. Seriously, it was so lovely to hear all your kind words and did give me that extra bit of strength and reassurance to know that I would be fine. Oh and Steve has asked me to tell you all that the upsetting issue was nothing to do with him, apparently I made it sound like I'd caught him with a hooker or something. Not the case. Steve is all good. Just so we're clear (acceptable Mr?).

Anyway, today is Friday, all is right in the world again and I am venturing to London tomorrow to see my fire girls for the first post blaze reunion and also to try on the bridesmaid dresses! Ooooohs all around please!

I'll do a post tomorrow about plumbers (mainly because mine has pissed me off) but, as a Friday question, I would like to know two things:

1) What one BRILLIANT BEYOND AMAZING THING you are doing this weekend?

and

2) Whether I should treat myself to a teensy glass of wine tonight, diet be damned?

x

ps Two of my lovely commenters (that I know of) are in the Rock My Wedding's Find a New Jenny competition - good luck ladies! x

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Sinking fast (but hopefully bobbing up like one of those buoy things within a day or so)

Today life is pretty rubbish.

I am generally struggling this week, partly because I just am (please tell me you sometimes have weeks like this?) and partly because it is the one year anniversary (totally the wrong phrase) of something tomorrow. Something that I found out, that impossibly changed nothing but also everything and that I am partly still dealing with and struggling with, even though I have been told by several people that I 'should be over it by now'.

But it is never that simple is it.

And, being the chronic over analyser that I am, I am second guessing myself. Should I have dealt with this by now? Should I be over it? Should it have ever mattered in the first place (as one  person told me)? Am I being self indulgent?

And that's just the simple, one layer analysis.

Go a level deeper and there's more. Third guessing if you will. If I am being self indulgent then isn't it technically my right to do so as it is my issue? Can I force myself to be over something when I know deep down I'm not? What right have others to tell me how I should feel?

And fourth guessing, another level further.... What if I am being so self indulgent that I don't see it for what it is and that others are right and that in fact I should be over it? What if by allowing myself to think these things I am stopping myself from dealing with it all correctly? What if those people who are lecturing me and telling how to feel are only doing so because they know more than me about this and are only doing what is best?

There are several deeper, uglier and more confusing levels that I can, and often do, go to to analyse and think on but by telling you those you are likely to become so confused and be sure that I am, in fact, an insane Livy, trapped in the currently not so fun Livy world and believe that I should be labotomised immediately.

Instead I will tell you that, rather than remain calm and just get the hell on with it, I instead decided to fall off the healthy eating band wagon and purchase a sausage and cheese panini.

Doesn't sound nice does it?

It wasn't.

But I ate it anyway. And then felt sick and now feel angrier still at myself.

So, here is the new plan.
Get through today, head down, work hard, go home, try and sleep without any form of nightmares (which is the classic Stressed Livy symptom)
  • Tomorrow, wake up, ideally from a lovely night's sleep, more likely tired and stressed, get through the day again, head down, work hard, go home, look forward to sleep and sleep
  • Friday, I WILL FEEL BETTER. The day will be over and it is a new year start.
The silly thing is, why does that '1 year' mark even matter? Why, in my head, is tomorrow harder than last Thursday or a Thursday a month ago?

Minds are silly things aren't they? So here is a picture of me, younger and far more stress free (apart from five minutes later when I fell off...).



Hoping to be back with you soon, but sane and fun and much less sucky. x

Sunday, 8 August 2010

He's nearly as famous as me

Why is it that whenever I shave my legs I seem to miss my knees? I mean, how is this possible? They are in the middle of my legs

In fact, I remember shaving them each time. Perhaps my knee hair is somehow razor resistant? Or that it just grows like super super fast!

Oooooh, I forgot, anyone watching Pete Versus Life on Channel 4?

You should.

Firstly, it is awesome.

Secondly, remember Lola my lovely sister? Her boyfriend is in it.

Yep, my potential brother in law (prother-in-law if you will) is playing Jake.

And he rocks.

Livy out x

Saturday, 7 August 2010

Will the Real Livy please stand up

I have been ill.

Like properly, yuckingly ill.

On Wednesday night I felt a bit wrong, then by midnight I felt a lot wrong and by 3am I was throwing up. Muchos.

It was horrific, I was convinced I was dying and, throughout, the thing that upset me most wasn't the fact I was sure I was about to die.

No.

It was the wedding. We've got it all booked and sorted, I mean, what a waste of money if I went and died.

So I did what any sensible girl would do and decided to find Steve a replacement fiancee he could marry next February instead.

This obviously was a big undertaking and I made my mind up straight away that it would need to be someone I knew and what would be more perfect than one of my bridesmaids?

I ran them all past Steve.

Me: OK, so there's Alex, my sister. Would that be weird?

Steve: This conversation is getting weird.

Me: Fine. Ummm.. Katie is so great and you too have loads in common, I mean, both your Grandmas are called Ivy!

Steve: Both are Grandmas are called Ivy because they are the same Grandma. We are cousins.

Me: That's legal!

Steve gives me a look of pure 'move on'

Me: OK, well Cadi's out as she is only 6.....

Back to my computer looking at photos of various friends...

Me: So that leaves Kazzie, Julia and Laura. Now Laura is so creative and fun and makes the best apple pancakes but she has been known to ask the waiter to pick her food and you get mad at me when I ask only your opinion, let alone the waiter..... Kazzie is the best and works in a publishing agency so would probably get you free books and she can belly dance, oh, but she works in London so it'd have to be long distance. Julia is great and the closest location wise, and neither of you like peas plus she would be a good mummy to our fish... but wait, a lot of her fish have died... maybe my fish babies wouldn't be safe.

I look up. Steve has gone.

Tired, I close my eyes and the next thing I know it is the next day and I feel better. I am not going to die!

I am relieved, not only that my impending death has been postponed but also because finding a replacement me turns out to be a bugger.