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

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

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.

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