Sorry for the prolonged absence. PC problems and a week off work combined have kept me off the radar (I could access everyone else's blogs, but not my own.... go figure)
So I have two posts that I was going to put on here, and one for today.
I suggest you grab a cup of tea, and prepare for a bex and a good lie down, because this is going to be a long one....
A GOOD WEEK.
Sorry for the absence, people, I had the week off work, so no blogging for this little cookie.
So for those who are gluttens for punishment, here;s a brief look at last week:
Failed to sleep in on my first day off. Barely slept at all. Wnet to the pub with Danny, my brother, for lunch, went shopping and BOUGHT TWO SKIRTS. It's a monumental thing that people get to see my knees now, so it needed to be put in capitals. Trust me, it did.
Went underwear shopping. I'd say lingerie, but I had to buy a sports bra and sensible underwear for wearing with the new skirts. Met The Boy for lunch at the Oxford Scholar. Won a Southern Comfort Lanyard. Found out what the word Lanyard meant. Saw The Boys office. The Boy asked if he could see my blog and considering he was checking my e-mails, doing my banking and generally being his usual sweet self, how could I refuse? The boy sets up his own Blog after reading mine.
Got m hair done, FINALLY. I now have straight, shiny, lovely coloured HAIR, instead of a poodle-esque afro mess. The Boy came over and we watched Black Books. Kinda.
FRIDAY - Well. Friday could use its own post. Friday, I woke up rather grumpy, as is my wont, and wandered out, bleary-eyed, to collect the mail. And tripped over something that had been placed right in front of my front door. Luckily, I noticed the name and address on it before I kicked it flying. It was a box-of-flowers shaped box, and it was addressed to me. ME? Huge-dressing-gowned-Peter-Alexander-thesearen'tuggbootstheirhomeboots - booted - crazy eyed me? So, gingerly - just in case they were a bomb, or some kind of practical joke - I carried them inside, bewildered. Totally and utteryl flabergasted. The Boy is the only person (I hope) who would send me flowers. Why would the boy send me flowers? So I opened the box, and, squealing far too girlishly (Yes, Boy, I squealed) saw red roses, a box of Lindt chocolates, potpurri, and rose oil. Roses. Red Roses. Lindt chocolate. Then, as if it could get any better, I opened the card that came with them. They were, indeed, from The Boy. And he'd written me a poem.
And a real-honest-to-goodness poem.
Written for ME.
I am, therefore, nominating The Boy for best person EVER.
Turns out Friday was one month since we'd gotten together. I've been so wrapped up in the goodness that it hadn't occured to me, but The Boy notices and decides to send me Roses.
And you know the best thing? (Apart from the above) I let him read this Blog last week, and there was a post that said things were close to perfect, and the only things I needed for perfect were a packet of Tim Tams that never runs out and a big bunch of flowers. And he gets me the bunch of flowers.
Before he had even read the Blog.
Anyway, he's started a Blog. The Boys blog can be found here . Check it out, not only because he's my Boy, but because he says several nice things about me, and if you're in need of cheering up, his post of last Friday should put a smile on your face.
It did with me. But, The Boy can do that to you.
Couldn't get out of a one room building
13 hours ago