Burleyque and the new do!
I’ve slapped myself on the wrists several times for not writing for so long. But it’s just been so busy! In fact the only way I think I can possibly get through this without needing several comfort breaks and a gallon of strong tea is to condense it all into manageable chunks, like they do on Twitter nowadays, condensing great novels into 140 tiny characters. Which in a librarians point of view by the way, is a travesty, but there you go.
Yesterday I was awake for 18 hours solid, doing my bit as a Poll Clerk in the local and european elections. Let me say now that I do not have one political bone in my body, and I’m not about to bore you with more complaints about MP’s expenses, because if you read the newspapers, you’re probably sick to the back teeth of it all by now. No, I just did my bit by getting up at quarter to 6, sitting in the same building all day, and going home at 11 oclock. Combine that with doing a 7.30 start at the bakery two days before and working all day tomorrow, and you have one seriously sleep deprived and grumpy little person. *raises hand* That would be me then. It wasn’t all bad, I was there with two people that were of an older generation than me, but treated me like one of them, which is nice in this day and age, when I get glared at by old ladies at work for being able to tie my own shoelaces without passing wind. The most excitement we had all day was one bitter old biddy, ironically called Betty…ha…ripping up her ballot paper, mumbling ” I don’t know who on earth these people are so why should I vote for them?” leaving us all clawing at our faces, because spoilt ballot paper= lots of paperwork come 10 oclock when the poll closed. But hey ho, I get paid a lot of money for this, and all the other blasted work I’m doing. That almost takes away the pain of having to pay for that person’s wingmirror I took off. Hmm? I didn’t tell you about that you say? Oh, thats a pity. Never mind. Believe me, the cringing has only just stopped at this end, I don’t want to have to put you through it as well.
What else. Hmm. I’m trying to become more involved in the local Burlesque scene where I live, I’ve managed to half-stalk, half innocently track down the organiser on Facebook, and sent her a ridiculously gushy email, and offered her my services. I’d love to march straight up there, tassels in hand and do my own turn, but, I don’t think I’m quite up to that yet, and my choreography probably has a long way to go just yet. But, fingers crossed. Mentioning dancing, I did have some rather sad news last week. Due to family issues my tapdancing teacher can’t carry on doing our Sunday morning lessons, so in 7 weeks time, I will no longer be doing tap dancing. I’m gutted beyond words let me tell you, not only do I love love LOVE the group of ladies I dance with, but I really love my teacher, and I’m so upset that she has to stop, because her daughters’ father is ill, and she can’t do all the travelling and still have time to choreograph us. 
It’s a good job I didn’t buy those ruby red Dorothy tap shoes I was lusting after wasn’t it? Still, I hope to find a new tap school on this godforsaken place soon. Honestly, most of the time I love living here, but for activities for people my age, especially theatre and dance related, are pretty non existent, so I’m not hopeful.
Things are well on the love front, I’ve been having some really nice days about with the beau recently, and also some friends of mine were back from unui briefly, so I spent all the time I could with them. Those were a fun few days, especially when playing crazy golf, I managed to hit the ball out of the course completely, onto the main road, and dented a car. Oops. I don’t think they noticed thankfully!
I’ve been enjoying a lot of new music recently, namely the latest Lilly Allen album, ‘It’s Not Me, It’s You’, very easy going for young Lilly, considering she spends most of her time picking fights with girls much prettier than her in the tabloids nowadays, but it’s nice to listen to, and of course a few notable tunes on there being her latest singles. Also I managed to get hold of the new All American Rejects album “When the World comes Down” which is absolutely fantastic, the Rejects just seem to be constantly impressive with their material, for all the years that I’ve known about them. I’ve seen them live a good few times now with my favourites, Motion City Soundtrack, and although I’ve never met them, I would love to, just to shake their hands for this album. I highly reccommend you get a copy. Oh and do I have to mention the new Green Day album? 
I thought not. BUY IT!
The exercise front is dragging, because I can’t seem to find a secondhand exercise bike anywhere! I think people are having a bikini panic fit all of a sudden and those contraptions you hid in the spare room through winter suddenly seem more appealing than that Twix multipack your dad’s been hiding in the cupboard. I’ve just bought a long chiffon polka dot skirt with an elastic waistband to tide me over until I find one. Bye bye toes! Nice knowing you. When I start my Race For Life training plan you’ll be with me every step of the way don’t you worry.
Next week I am getting my hair cut. Short. With a fringe. Don’t even try and stop me! The last time I had my hair short was when I was about 8, and people actually thought I was a boy, but this time round, dear reader, I have boobs. So y’know, that might help.
Anyways, apologies again. I’m off to go and work on my burlesque name. What do you think of Belle Amore? It’s either that or something like Bea Divine, but I want to get the Belle in, because after all, that’s who I am at heart. Belle Deutrice is my fairy name, maybe that’ll work! I’ll have a think. Any suggestions?
Until next time, remember, it’s not how long it takes, it’s who’s taking you. RIP Marilyn.
Belle x
Times are a-changin’
What a busy few days I’ve had, hardly time to put my feet up and think for a second- but now that I have an (almost) willing audience, I can finally get down to it.
Yesterday was a real humdinger of a rollercoaster ride. It was immensely busy at the bakery, we were down to only one till for the whole shop, which riled us up no end. I suppose the fact that ‘a very nice young man’ coming to install it helped, it certainly boosted my morale a little *winks*. I mean come on, give a girl a break, we’re all women in the shop, the closest you get to male action is the slightly effeminate Saturday boy lusting after that bloke that went off to join the Navy. (Trés obvious, no?) At one point, one of the women that seems to have a ma-husive grudge against me for some reason had a go at me in front of the whole shop, telling me I’d made her look ‘foolish’ in front of a customer, for merely serving her and getting the amount right, instead of her ridiculous amount of £12 to my £5. I wasn’t in the wrong at all, which my boss told her, much to her disgust, and she then moped off to have what was probably her 14th fag break of the day.
It wasn’t all tears and misery though, the day before my boss had pulled me aside to say that she wanted to talk to me about something important the next day, and it had to be when ‘Grudgewoman’ wasn’t there. So quite reasonably I was a nervous wreck all night, thinking about what it could possible be, until I’d convinced myself I was probably going to get fired. Turns out, I was actually given a promotion! Basically I now have a Supervisor position, meaning when my boss is away, I’m in charge! I’m going to be trained up until August, where I’ll be expected to run the whole shop. For a week. BY MYSELF. Bricking it is not the phrase here chaps. But I am really chuffed to be given the opportunity, I am only 19 after all, in my eyes I was worthy, but you do get a lot of flack about age from some employers. The only person I’m likely to get flack from is Grudgewoman, but to be honest, my boss ‘can’t stand her’, and was never even going to consider her anyway. So by default, I win! HAHA! In your (wrinkly old) face.
So far, the girls have been supportive of me, which is really good of them, because to be fair, most of them are about 20 years plus older than me and old enough to be my mother, and for me to be in charge of them, after being there for about 6 months or so is taking the piss a little, but so far, it’s all been positive so I’m really pleased. I love the rest of the girls I work with, in fact I’m going to a Spinfit class with two of them on Monday. I think I might have mentioned that in a previous post. I am really looking forward to it in a twisted way…
Today was another busy day, a brief visit from NYM (Nice Young Man) made it a little brighter, but then was dampened when we found out that the Walking Wookie is going to be teaching us all how to use it on Tuesday. Surely his furry paws won’t be able to use a touchscreen till? We’ll soon find out.
I never got my wages today which was a bummer, as I’ve found loads of stuff in Topshop that I want. Hum. Car insurance is coming up soon too. An expensive time, my friends.
OOH! Went to see Star Trek last night as well, for only £2.50 a ticket too! Bargain! I love small cinemas, it’s so much more personal and intimate than those big complex things. Although we arrived a little late after loverboy worried too much about parking the car, we soon picked it up, and I can honestly say it’s the best film I’ve seen for a long time. The characters are cast to a tee, Abrhams is such a talented director as it is, but with these actors, it’s a truly winning combination, especially the characters of Spock and Uhura. They’re truly impeccable. I urge you to all go and see it as soon as humanely possible. Queue up at the cinema in a sleeping bag like the Star Wars nuts did! I assure you it’s worth it.
Thank heavens for Broadband!
I’m now back online after weeks and weeks (or so it seemed) of problems with our internet connection. I resorted to using whoevers’ computer was nearest, hence annoying the hell out of my boyfriend repeatedly. Well, he just had to have a nice shiny laptop staring me in the face everyday didn’t he?! Let’s get to the juicy stuff.
I HAVE GREEN DAY TICKETS! This is the pure highlight of the week, no, rephrase that, perhaps of the 21st Century…(breakdown :p) I’m so excited! We really thought we wouldn’t be able to get any but just managed before it sold out completely. I mean sure, I am in seated instead of being standing, like I was in 2004 when I saw the legends themselves for the first time, but I think I can overlook that fact for a number of reasons. 1, it’s been so long since they toured, 2, I am getting to go to London, which I’ve only ever been to once, and I’m very excited about the prospect of going to the O2 Arena, and 3, I get to go with my best friend, my dad and my boyfriend. The only small problem about this is that we only have two pairs of tickets situated most probably at opposite ends of the arena, meaning my best friend has to sit with my dad whilst I, obviously sit with my boyfriend. I have apologised profusely to her, no offence dad, but I expect she’d rather sit with me…what a dilemma.
In other news, I have been feeling a little low recently, for a number of reasons…apart from the lack of internet I’ve not had a good spell mentally, popular opinion is that I’m depressed *rolls eyes*, but I shan’t believe that until they haul me away to the funny farm and lobotomise me. I just think I need to do more to keep myself busy, so I’m endeavouring to join SpinFit classes, (in short, cycling to a virtual reality road shown on a screen to dance music. Basically torture on wheels.) volunteer at the local cat shelter ( I love cats. It’s my downfall. I WILL end up a mad old cat lady in old age, You wait.) And generally do more fun and exciting things. Wish me luck!
Oh, and Lady Gaga is following ME on Twitter. LADY FUCKING GAGA! I am not worthy to even lick her shoe. But I wish I could. Adieu for now mes amis!
My boyfriend is highlighting his hair
Lord help us all.
What a strange day, full of odd little snippets- like the woman who came up to me at work and said “Someone tells me you tapdance, is it any good?” Excuse me…WHAT? Who is this someone and how do they know who I am and especially where I work! Part of me just thinks that it’s someone from my class but the other part is convinced I have a 60 year old midget stalker woman that’s going to be there steaming up my windows when I open the curtains tomorrow morning. Other news. My boss is back today, and harmony is restored, just about. Am trying to plan a very long holiday from work, on which I hope to decide what to do about work. At the moment I have two foreseeable options. Quit my current job for something that pays a damnsight more than 4 measly quid an hour, OR, carry on how I am and be generally miserable as I cannot afford road tax and my stupidly high insurance at once…bugger. Either way it spells misery in some shape or form so I’m going to take solace in a packet of Rolos, and mentally abuse myself as I realise I’m supposed to be in training for the Race for Life now.
Hahahaha my boyfriend’s now realised he hasn’t dyed any of his fringe. Maybe there is some hope for happiness for me yet!
It’s far too late to be doing this…
Frankly there are far better things I’d rather be doing at this time of night than writing a blog…such as sleeping, or at least not blasting my eyes with neon light from this infernal machine. But as you’ve probably noticed, I haven’t updated in about a week I think now, and it’s partly because my computer at home decided to lose all internet connection and I’m currently scavving internet from my boyfriend.
Quite a lot’s happened really, so much that I really don’t know how to go about writing it all down! I guess the logical thing is to go chronologically and start at the Bank Holiday Weekend, and my trip to the Flamingo Park 
Apparently my parents tell me they took me there when I was little, I trust their words but mind you, that’s almost as silly as telling me that last night while I was asleep an Octopus came and did a little tapdance at the end of my bed, I’m sure as hell not going to remember it am I?! Anyway, I ended up feeding and stroking a penguin which was a rather pleasant experience, it felt rather like stroking a wet dog….with wings.
Moving onto more recent matters, at work this week I had to contend with my boss going on a rather forced ‘holiday’, meaning I had to endure a whole week with a walking hairball who thinks he knows better than I do. I would need a small army’s worth of fingers to count off the amount of irritating, pointless things he did during that very small space of time, but lets just go with saying, surely when you work with food you can put two and two together and realise that cookies + bright, white hot lights for 6 hours a day= STALE COOKIES. So what does he do? Put our entire stock of cookies out on the shelf so they can go as dry as an old sanitary pad. No one’s gonna want those! I literally felt like ripping his silly little ponytail off and beating him round the head with it. It’s pretty rich as well that he expected me to train a woman at least 25 years my senior, and a few more in the following days, considering I’ve only been there 6 months. Still, he still managed to let one of them sell the ‘display only’ macaroons, so at least I got some kind of revenge. That poor bastard probably broke his teeth on that beauty.
Last night I spent (in my humble opinion) a very well deserved night out with some good friends, at a Burlesque show, and later going on to a pub to be deafened by very badly played Status Quo songs and be glared at by the locals- because how the hell did I have time to change out of a black and gold pantsuit AND take off the outrageous eyelashes I glued to myself in the car? Imbeciles. The burlesque wasn’t bad, the host was a terrible comic who actually believed we were laughing with him and not at him, but some of the girls really didn’t seem to grasp the true concept of burlesque- maybe I’m being too picky, I said to myself and several others (the ones that would still listen!) afterwards, but my psychologist friend even admitted that he’d seen better strip shows, at least they were more seductive and teased the audience more…With this lot it was very much a case of- lose the gloves, lose the hat and BAM! NIPPLE TASSELS A GO GO! Not exactly the ‘Art of the Teese’ as my dear Dita would say. Never mind. Next time I’ll get up there myself and shake my tailfeather, at least then they’d really have something to laugh at eh?
Until next time, which I promise won’t be as long, Adieu.
Start at the beginning…
Is what I’m telling myself today. I apologise again, profusely, for the lack of updating. To be fair, the last few days have been, for lack of a better metaphor, a rollercoaster, and I’ve only just managed to unbuckle myself and try not to throw up on my shoes.
Speaking of throwing up…don’t worry I didn’t really, but on Thursday, if you had tried to make me eat a Hot Cross Bun that’s what I probably would have done. At last count at closing time we had 209 Hot Cross Buns left over at the bakery. 209!! God knows how many we were sent at the start of the day but that was how many we still had and just couldn’t shift. Being around the smell of spices and cinnamon all day might sound like absolute heaven to some of you, but trust me, when you see them everyday like I do, and they’re under your nose, and the smell’s in your hair, and your clothes, and under your nails…and…and…EVERYWHERE…you start to get a little sick at the sight of them. I felt quite ill for at least three hours after I left work, and was screaming at my mother to give me anything but sugary substances for dinner, because I just don’t think I could have coped with any more sweetness! That is…until the next day
Today being Good Friday, I had the day off, which was a godsend after being so tired after yesterday’s Easter escapades, but as to whether it was actually ‘good’…well, the jury’s still out on that. Without going into too much detail, because after all I do want to keep some mystery about myself, my grandpa is back into hospital yet again. He’s 92 now, and not had the best medical history, especially of late, in his life he’s had four heart attacks, which led to a pacemaker, and in this year he had a stroke, and then had to have major brain surgery to remove blood that was forming there. So you could say, he’s doing pretty well all things considered. Two days ago however he was carted back off to hospital again because his carers thought he was looking a little peaky, and considering he’d already been there for a six month stay once this year, we weren’t too enthusiastic about hearing that piece of news. Turns out he has suspected heart failure, which we’ve been told is treatable, but he’s never going to really ‘get better’ as such, and visiting him yesterday did nothing for my mood, considering the man in the bed directly opposite him (I suspect) had dementia, and was constantly screaming for help and writhing round in his bed, and later on, actually trying to make a break for it whilst the nurses’ backs were turned. It wasn’t pleasant, but after losing the other three of my grandparents to cancer, I’m kind of used to hospitals and death by now. The sad fact is that we don’t know if, or when he’s going to be coming out.
So that wasn’t too cheerful, combined with the fact that I’m having trouble with the bloody taxman again, and I didn’t get my wages on Thursday as promised because our boss was ‘too busy’- how can you be too busy?! We need money to live and you just forget? How convenient for you! Because of course you’ve probably paid yourself this week, but the poor little minions who actually front your business and work their fingers to the bone week in week out, don’t possibly deserve to get what they’ve earned on time… *Rolls eyes* Can you tell I’m not best pleased? Still, I’m trying to stay positive. After having a good argument with the boyfriend and promptly sitting in the car by myself and crying my eyes out for half an hour, I felt a bit better, and we went to the local amusement arcade, dodging a lot of Asian holidaymakers and families on bikes, trying to ‘make the most’ of the Bank Holiday weekend despite it pissing down with rain constantly for the past 24 hours. I won a pen with Hannah Montana on it amongst other plasticky type items…I wanted the High School Musical one, but hey, with those machines you get what you’re given, and also an oddment of keyrings and a Bambi mobile phone charm. Which would be great, but my phone doesn’t have anywhere to put one. Grr. After a highly nutritious dinner of stuffed crust pizza and chips followed by a second course of a Raspberry Cream Split I feel a lot more positive, and am going to spend a small part of the evening Twittering myself senseless.
You know what? I feel so much better for letting some of that out. I love blogging.
To Twit or not to Twit?
I had a very interesting conversation with my mother this morning over a late breakfast. Well, I call it a conversation in the loosest possible sense of the term, it was more like an epic rant on her half with me tactfully trying to slot in the odd comment here and there. Stupidly, I made the offhand remark that, after going to dinner with some friends last night, one of themproceeded to go on Facebook and upload some godawful pictures of us within two hours of taking them, and how I thought it was madness that she must have literally got home, thrown down her handbag, and fired up the computer straight away. My mother, took this as not only her queue to go into a full scale rant about Facebook, but other, completely innocent social networks, such as Twitter! Take this as a snippet of the conversation.
Mum: “I just don’t understand why people want to follow all these celebrities on Twitter, I’ve got enough going on in my own life, why the hell would I want to read about other people’s?!”
Me: (meekly) I have Twitter…
In my head however, I was plotting a full scale protest against what my mother had just slated, my love of the moment, my beloved Twitter. Without Twitter I wouldn’t have known a good twelve hours before the newspapers got hold of it that Jamie Oliver had a baby girl called Petal Blossom Rainbow (SO CUTE! I love the idea of naming girls after flowers, I’d call mine Lily.) and likewise, how would I get through the day not knowing the fact that Lily Allen has a major hangover, or Russell Brand was tormenting more innocent yet randy women? My mother just doesn’t seem to grasp the concept that as humans, we find other humans’ lives fascinating, it’s the whole idea of being able to be part of something that in the real world we could never even hope to be part of- taking a look into the personal life of a celebrity is almost like getting a sneaky look at their diary, and it’s that kind of mindless trivia that I live for. Being of an older generation that was conceived pre-internet and never really had any celebrities worth following anyway (save Monroe and Hepburn) my mother obviously thinks that we’re all just a bunch of sad internet geeks with no livelihoods and no real friends.
Which may be true, but she didn’t need to point it out did she?
Happy National Cleavage Day!
Get em’ out for the boys! Or…y’know…don’t.
If you’re under 50 and they’re not sweeping the floor behind you as you walk then it’s ok, after that I would have to issue a health warning…not to you, but to the people around you to shield their eyes for fear they might go blind.*grins* I’m just jokin’ with ya. I did wonder why today I’d been silently admiring my own two, it may well have been for the fact that due to severe overheating the previous day at work, I finally decided to relinquish the four layers (No I am NOT joking) I’d been wearing until then and take it down to a mere two! Then what does it do? Get stupidly cold. It knew. It just knew. At least I still had enough layers on to make sure that any aforementioned goosepimpley nubile cleavage didn’t stun the older clientele at the Bakery and make them choke on their Belgium buns. Learning about National Cleavage day with only a few hours to go though, from the oracle himself, Russell, I do wonder whether I should do something to celebrate. I may just postpone it a few hours and wear something scant to work tomorrow, or maybe I should run around the garden right now for the sheer hell of it in my delicates.
Or maybe not.
A rather short update for you tonight, for I tire easily. The Winehouse tribute, although looking like a man in drag, sang and even spoke like Miss Winehouse herself, and did her a fair bit of justice. Sadly the evening was marred by the appearance of a rather gruesome twosome that I’d rather hoped I’d left in their pathetic little schoolgirl mindset of raving and getting off your trolly on WKD or cider, whichever is cheapest in Tesco at the time. Managed to cause some jealousy over my kick ass shoes which very nearly redeemed the evening, only then to nearly twist my ankle on them whilst going to the loo. Nice look. *slaps forehead* Plus my straight friend, (Well, he says he’s straight, I’ve only ever took his word for it really, a man that kisses that badly must be gay, surely?! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it anyway.) got chatted up by a gay guy which was a rather embarrassing experience for all involved.
I must leave you now, for I am being poisoned from the ear canal inwards- my boyfriend has just decided to put Simply Red on. Pass the sick bucket?
Belle
They tried to make me go to Rehab…
I said “Oh go on then, I’ve got nowt better to do until Corrie’s on.”
Tonight I’m going with some friends to see an Amy Winehouse tribute act, if you hadn’t guessed by the blatant title of this entry! I’m not sure whether she’ll be completely authentic though, I mean surely if she’s going to be true to Amy then she’ll either not turn up at all, or turn up at a minimum of three hours late, stinking drunk, mumble a few lines of her songs not necessarily in the right order and stumble off again in search of a drink on her teeny tiny heels. Mocking aside I am a really big fan of Amy’s, and I want to see this girl do her justice, so I’ll be sure to let you know what it’s like.
Today saw the insatiable Russell Brand take to the streets of ‘Lan-dantaaaahn’ and join the masses on the street to protest about….something. Forgive my complete and utter ignorance but despite reading the papers everyday without fail I have no bloody idea what they were protesting about. I spend most of the time criticising the Page Three Girl and saying that I could do better. It was probably something to do with money though, considering it was at a bank…anyway I heard Russell on the radio whilst I was making up the rolls at work, and it brought a little smile to my face. You might want to check out the videos he posts as well, little gems they are. www.russellbrand.tv
In other news, my two oddball cats have just been terrorising the feline population of the. About 5 minutes ago a strange new cat that I’ve never seen before, at least not around these here parts, decided that it wanted to set up camp under my car, and stay there. Well, that’s all well and good but my two cats, silly twerps (And that’s the pre-watershed wording) that they are thought they’d go and see what he was up to. Cue scratching, hissing, some very low pitched prolonged (and really rather comical) meowing from my female cat, and we soon had a fight on our hands. It took me to go out there and break it up, proudly displaying my bum to any innocent passers-by as I tried to crawl under the car to get the bloody fool out, but all he did was go further under there, like a splinter where you really don’t want one. Oh the excitement of my life. Aren’t you glad I share this with you all? Happy evening everyone.
Breaking News! The cat has now acquired an ally…the stray cat that we feed has joined in and barricaded our two cats in the house. I am now part of a hostage situation. More updates will follow.
Motivational Speaking
I’ve developed a sense of utter complacency…I just don’t see any reason to move from this chair.
Sadly, the bright lights and neon aisles of Tesco are calling to me, as I’m trying to embark on a healthy eating kick at the moment, (as I seem to do every other month) so in order to stop myself eating the lovely sticky gooey Easter type treats that are in the cupboard, I must hide them behind not so nice or gooey things that I’m told are good for me, and hope I will not succumb to them. I know full well that I don’t need to lose any weight, god forbid, because judging by the size of me already I think I’d just disappear, it’s just I’m not happy with this stomach of mine. I always look like I’m about six months pregnant, which isn’t a good look. Not even when you’re in a long term relationship like myself. I’ve been told that it’s caused by all kinds of different things, but to be honest, I think it’s just good old fashioned flab at the end of the day.
I noticed it more when my boyfriend was taking pictures of me for this Underwear model competition I’m entering today. Usually I’m not one to feel self conscious about myself, well…not in private anyway. Testament to this should be the fact that I was running around my garden in a thong in temperatures of 7 degrees in plain view of the entire neighbourhood whilst trying to take some arty outdoors shots. Ironically the ones we took inside turned out far better and I needn’t have frozen certain parts of my anatomy off for my art. Such is life. Still, the fact was that there was back fat, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t even think it was possible to have back fat! Needless to say I will be doing several ab crunches a day from now on and eating only carrot sticks whilst doing yoga.
…
Excuse me I’m just going to go and dig out those chocolate digestives.
