68 kilos. Could be worse. Julio fantasies 4, they gave me the wrong baby fantasies 6.
09.23 So. Home. Laundry basket over flowing (C. ‘too busy for laundry’), larder empty (‘too busy for shopping’), house filthy (‘too busy for housework). Am contemplating day of putting this all to rights. Except. Why should I? Will just pop to hairdresser first and get roots done.
12.49 Back to normal at Maison Kevin. Swine flu was actually panic attack brought on by worrying he is 30 and still hasn’t got a wife, children etc. Funny, always assumed Kevin was gay but it appears he’s just shy. Not so sure about the Vicar, who does seem to love dressing up. Anyway am still smarting over ghastly visit from Bridget who was in the strangest mood. Toyed with her food and sulked, just like when she was 16, but she is the same age as Kevin and should have grown out of it. (Thought – should I introduce them? Might be useful to have a hairdresser in the family).
14.17 Colin bolted lunch and rushed out to, well not sure, but some activity that involves green wellies and his swimming shorts (mud wrestling?). Can’t stop brooding about yesterday – in the end was so irritated with Bridget I found myself repeating something I read in Talking Balls. I said being gay was just laziness, and having said it I went on to justify it. Can’t believe I did that, just because B was winding me up.
18.36 Colin back from working party in Kingsford Woods, clearing the undergrowth. Picked up swimming shorts in error as they are the same colour as his woolly hat. Is watching recorded tennis from yesterday while I do the ironing. There must be more to life than this.
Showing posts with label grey roots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grey roots. Show all posts
Monday, 1 February 2010
Friday, 29 January 2010
No need of scales, am perfect woman apparently, Hugh Grant fantasies 0, Colin Firth fantasies 0, real life events many.
08.33 a.m. Spent yesterday with Julio. Looked out of window after breakfast and there was his Merc, with him leaning casually against bonnet, immaculately dressed with lemon jumper slung round his shoulders. Looks just like Louis Jourdan in Three Coins in the Fountain. Wonderful day, but at the end told him I was happily married woman and not to come round here again.
08.47 a.m. Will just see if Audrey and Una are awake. Will spend the day with them and try to mend a few bridges.
08.48 a.m. Found a note in the kitchen ‘gone to the beach – enjoy your lie in. We’ll be near the beach café, do come and join us.’ Oh dear, really don’t fancy playing gooseberry to the pair of them with the waiter and the taxi driver. And look, there’s Julio waiting outside. Naughty boy. Will just go and tell him to give up, since I belong to another.
11.36 p.m. Another perfect day with a perfect gentleman. He calls me Pamela – not Pam or Pammy (sometimes catch Colin staring at me with puzzled expression, as if not entirely sure what I’m called). Julio opens the car door for me and helps me into my coat. We found a deserted beach and walked on it, holding hands. He gently removed my turban and somehow I didn’t care about the roots (hardly show anyway).
11.37 p.m. Am a scarlet woman. Just like Una and Audrey.
08.33 a.m. Spent yesterday with Julio. Looked out of window after breakfast and there was his Merc, with him leaning casually against bonnet, immaculately dressed with lemon jumper slung round his shoulders. Looks just like Louis Jourdan in Three Coins in the Fountain. Wonderful day, but at the end told him I was happily married woman and not to come round here again.
08.47 a.m. Will just see if Audrey and Una are awake. Will spend the day with them and try to mend a few bridges.
08.48 a.m. Found a note in the kitchen ‘gone to the beach – enjoy your lie in. We’ll be near the beach café, do come and join us.’ Oh dear, really don’t fancy playing gooseberry to the pair of them with the waiter and the taxi driver. And look, there’s Julio waiting outside. Naughty boy. Will just go and tell him to give up, since I belong to another.
11.36 p.m. Another perfect day with a perfect gentleman. He calls me Pamela – not Pam or Pammy (sometimes catch Colin staring at me with puzzled expression, as if not entirely sure what I’m called). Julio opens the car door for me and helps me into my coat. We found a deserted beach and walked on it, holding hands. He gently removed my turban and somehow I didn’t care about the roots (hardly show anyway).
11.37 p.m. Am a scarlet woman. Just like Una and Audrey.
Friday, 22 January 2010
60-something, whatever, no time as busy packing.
16.46 Phew, what a marathon, but at long last everything is pressed and folded in tissue paper and laid out on the spare bed. Hard work, but as my mother used to say, Pamela, if you pack properly you will never have to spend your holiday ironing (have packed travel iron just in case though). Have managed very nice capsule wardrobe with last summer’s basics plus a couple of extras from the Sales. Navy as the base colour (slimming) with a few touches of soft apricot. Have even found a turban that co-ordinates as sun wreaks havoc with my hair… oh my godfathers, my hair! My roots! Cannot go to Albufeira with roots showing, which they don’t now but hair will inevitably grow an inch while I’m snoozing on the plane – must phone Maison Kevin, I know it’s Friday but I’m a good customer and they will fit me in, I know they will.
16.48 Disaster. Total disaster. Kevin has swine flu and they’ve closed the salon as a precaution. Could get Colin to run me into town, if he were here, which he isn’t as he’s out ‘giving Roderick a hand with his lawnmower.’ Can’t go to Albufeira. Must go. Will spend entire holiday in turban. Will pretend have earache.
16.46 Phew, what a marathon, but at long last everything is pressed and folded in tissue paper and laid out on the spare bed. Hard work, but as my mother used to say, Pamela, if you pack properly you will never have to spend your holiday ironing (have packed travel iron just in case though). Have managed very nice capsule wardrobe with last summer’s basics plus a couple of extras from the Sales. Navy as the base colour (slimming) with a few touches of soft apricot. Have even found a turban that co-ordinates as sun wreaks havoc with my hair… oh my godfathers, my hair! My roots! Cannot go to Albufeira with roots showing, which they don’t now but hair will inevitably grow an inch while I’m snoozing on the plane – must phone Maison Kevin, I know it’s Friday but I’m a good customer and they will fit me in, I know they will.
16.48 Disaster. Total disaster. Kevin has swine flu and they’ve closed the salon as a precaution. Could get Colin to run me into town, if he were here, which he isn’t as he’s out ‘giving Roderick a hand with his lawnmower.’ Can’t go to Albufeira. Must go. Will spend entire holiday in turban. Will pretend have earache.
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