tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32317238619034443142024-03-13T08:39:14.788-07:00Lucia SparkleLucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-60065810285240100582011-11-29T12:56:00.000-08:002011-11-29T13:19:26.707-08:00Behind the scenes of a TV makeover show...OK, so we moved house earlier in the year and like all new home-owners are keen to put our own stamp on our new nest.<div><br /></div><div>Tat was thinking maybe a new settee, maybe a jazzy colour on a feature wall... Oh no my friends, I've gone and done either a very silly thing or a very hilarious thing and have gone and got us qualified to appear on a new kitchen makeover TV show! Yippee!</div><div><br /></div><div>Not one of those "makeovers in an hour, paint your sitting room black and furnish with white leather furniture" type shows, but one of those "have a proper budget, 2 week build, award winning kitchen designer" type shows. </div><div><br /></div><div>Exciting!</div><div><br /></div><div>The premise of the show is to solve "interiors problems" in the kitchen - so all the things that are shot about the kitchen get solved by an expert. So we're going to get a pretty awesome kitchen at the end of it (last filming and kitchen build in February), but do you want to know the best bit?</div><div><br /></div><div>HEAD CAM!</div><div><br /></div><div>I think the production team couldn't believe their luck when I specifically asked to wear a camera on my head and walk around my house carrying liquid in full bowls on a particularly wobbly tray. Not only did I get to wear a camera on my head to illustrate why we "really need table space in the kitchen", we also had a play with teapot-cam, cupboard-cam and washing machine-cam (illustrating the broken floor and poorly fitted unit doors that all open when the washers on a spin cycle)!</div><div><br /></div><div>fun, fun, fun! The slight downside is that Tat and I are actually going to be on the tele at some point in 2012, but I figure that if it's on a cable channel (gold-living-food-catchup-plus1 probably. In my excitement, I haven't ACTUALLY checked, which is a definate error. It might actually be on a good channel. Oops), then no one is going to see it, so we get an ace kitchen for a lot less than we would buy it off the shelf AND we get to have arsed about with a camera crew for a couple of days!</div><div><br /></div><div>Off to practise wearing full make up and giant sunglasses and half heartedly running away from paparazzi with my hand over my face. AWESOME!</div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-19942062967869439162011-11-29T11:57:00.001-08:002011-11-29T12:30:33.320-08:00The Good the Bad and the Ugly (3 of 3)Oh dear reader!<div><br /></div><div>I've only gone and done it again. I know, I know, I'm a pretty dreadful blogger. It's fortunate no one reads me, otherwise you'd be so disappointed in me.</div><div><br /></div><div>So to cover the last seven months in hopefully pithy and amusing style, there follows three posts outlining some stand-out moments: Good, Bad and Ugly...</div><div><br /></div><div><b>The Good</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Where do I start? Just where do I start - so much has been jolly good / awesome / funny / totes amaze (delete pop references as appropriate): </div><div><ul><li>We <b>moved house!</b> We now own a pink house at the top of Hanover that we're slowly redecorating. Being a home owner again is brilliant. It means if I want wallpaper from some ridiculously arrogant Shoreditch 'designer' featuring illustrated woodland creatures smoking pipes and drinking cocktails, I can! And I do! And it's so expensive just thinking about it has given me a nose bleed!</li><li><b>We've been married a year! </b>Being married is ace. We've only had one argument in the whole year (his fault, obvs). I like to think it's because we sit down and work out our problems in an adult and mature manner - although in reality it's because neither of us can be arsed to put up a fuss about stuff now we're in it for the long haul. Arguing's such a waste of time when you can spend your energy laughing at your husbands trumps and rolling your eyes at each other and making faces behind the backs of people when they claim that "marriage isn't for them". Ha! whateves - loveless LOSERS"</li><li>I am 37. Yes 37. Contrary to what you'd think. Being old is actually pretty amazeballs. Firstly, people might think you're a twat for saying things like 'amazeballs' but if they're younger, they're too embarrassed and slightly intimidated to point it out to your face. Secondly, you are now authorised by law to spend up to £50 on moisturiser. Thirdly, you know enough about yourself to be confident in your own skin and appreciate your own strengths and weaknesses. Fourthly, you pretty much don't give a shit what people think of you any more; which, after a lifetime of being ginger, overweight "with a great personality" (or as a family member once coined me "The spit of her father. Who is a man of course") is pretty revolutionary. However, it does mean that if you express an interest in any of the members of One Direction, people get a bit twitchy. Although I don't think there's a law against having them a screensaver....</li><li><b>Tat officially looks like and acts like Karl Pilkington</b>, which by default means that I also find Karl Pilkington unbelievably attractive and frankly downright sexy. It was OK when KP was on the radio and no one really knew who he was and people noticing the similarities to Tat were occasional and passing. But NOW, he's been on the tele loads, I'm actually faced with a thinner version of my husband complaining about all the things he usually does, moaning about just wanting a sit down and a packet of crisps - but not only on the settee beside me (usually picking his nose) but also ON THE BLEEDIN' 42 INCH PLASMA TELE! If it wasn't so unsettling, I could put the surround sound on and have an orgy (*reaches for parental control button on blog settings*)</li></ul><div>If this year has been so good, just think about 2012 - it's going to be OLYMPIC!</div></div><div><br /></div><div>(see what I did there)</div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-53305147426605675022011-11-29T11:44:00.001-08:002011-11-29T11:57:34.632-08:00The Good the Bad and the Ugly (2 of 3)Oh, be still my heart! the BAD!<div><br /></div><div>Snakes alive, where does one start?</div><div>This year has the potential to be an annus horribilis, if it wasn't such an amusing phrase to write. OK, I exaggerate for comic effect, but honestly, this year has been tough</div><div><br /></div><div>At various points in 2011, we have faced:</div><div><ul><li>Financial ruin after potentially defaulting on our mortgage due to some frankly, shonky, advice from a tired and inexperienced ING Direct call centre worker about the speed in which he could transfer large sums of money (not an experience I recommend repeating if you're fond of not vomiting from fear)</li><li>Total debilitating heartbreak after having to take our much longed and planned for dog back to the RSPCA after a change in circumstances made it impossible for us to give him the type of home he needed (I thought I was sad when the last hamster - Biscuit - died and we had to give the cat - Spider - away due to Tat's selfish sudden allergic reaction. Man alive, that didn't even touch the sides of how I felt having to give Fred back. Bursting into tears hearing dogs bark behind closed front doors is still now a regular occurance. Sheesh!)</li><li>Various deaths - most recently an ex boyfriend who took his own life (not actually processing that one yet...)</li><li>Redundancy scares</li></ul>All in all, what I am calling through my glass half full eyes - a steep learning curve.</div><div> </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-24865375248954555872011-11-29T11:33:00.000-08:002011-11-29T14:02:58.844-08:00The Good the Bad and the Ugly (1 of 3)So the Ugly....<div><br /></div><div>Well, in the past seven months, I suppose I've got to count the following:</div><div><ul><li><b>My stress hives</b>: BLOW ME DOWN IF I DIDN'T ONLY GO AND DEVELOP A NEW REACTION TO STRESS! There's smug little me, thinking I know it all about my physical reactions to stress - that I'm coping just fine with a little light eczema around the joints and a crooked back, when LO! The day we take Fred back to the RSPCA, I wake up with what can only be described as a medieval looking bumpy rash over 30% of my upper body! It took 2 weeks, a load of antihistamines and extensive research from KarlTat on google images (don't, honestly, if you've just eaten it won't help you), but I'm cured. Horrah! can't wait for that to come back....</li><li>My <b>reaction</b> to the fact that I was the <b>only person who voted for a Pantomine fancy dress</b> theme at our work xmas do this year. I didn't know I had such petulance in me! Secretly impressed with my own "toys out of pram" posturing and loud exclamations about soullessness and boringness. Absolutely the attitude and behaviour of a Board director during this turbulent economic time </li><li>Repeat appearances of my <b>husband's long toenails</b> (lets just call them "tree climbers" and be done with it)</li></ul></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-78569144793348969532011-04-15T15:44:00.000-07:002011-04-15T15:49:49.362-07:00My husband Karl Pilkington<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDlb9k-wfPE/TajKiIq6b_I/AAAAAAAAABw/Od-nLxumsuM/s1600/karl.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDlb9k-wfPE/TajKiIq6b_I/AAAAAAAAABw/Od-nLxumsuM/s320/karl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595945224799678450" /></a>So, Tat's started to be mistaken for Karl Pilkington. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Sometimes I find it really funny, because Tat is in fact a grumpy, lazy Manc - so the fact they look the same as well is quite entertaining. But it's quite weird sitting next to Tat on the settee listening to him moaning about something and watching Karl Pilkington on the tele, moaning about the same thing.<div><br /></div><div>Wish Tat was as successful. I'd bet we'd be able to buy a much better house and we'd be friends with Stephen Merchant. </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-71827535713782002532011-04-15T15:26:00.000-07:002011-04-15T15:44:41.873-07:00Renewed efforts to lose a stoneRight. This is it. The last year I get wingey about being a stone over weight.<div><br /></div><div>I've got an appointment with the fitness instructor tomorrow at 10am to get a new regime that tackles the saddle bags and the bingo wings. </div><div><br /></div><div>I caught sight of myself out shopping last weekend and fair enough, I had a raging hangover, so my powers of deduction weren't as sharp as usual, but I swear to god, my upper arm was sagging over the top of my elbow when my arm was bent straight. I have the arms of a 50 year old. And not a Madonna 50 yr old with muscles (and probably a penis), but the arms of a 50 year old dinner lady. Most probably the one who got sacked from my middle school for stealing toilet paper by smuggling it out of the school, wrapped round her legs like old lady bandages under her tights.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sweet Jesus, aging is a cruel mistress. Not only has my metabolism slowed down, it's practically going backwards. I spent the last few months training for another half marathon and admitedly, my fondness for 'carb loading' starting including less than wholesome items like entire buckets of haagen daas Baileys. But I was running a minimum of 24 miles a week and I wasn't losing any weight.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't even let me get started on my saddlebags. It's like I'm permanently wearing several pairs of those cyclist shorts with the padded arses and thighs. I'm like an inverted Chris Hoy. It's a wonder I haven't sponteneously combusted with all the friction my running must cause. </div><div><br /></div><div>If I could just wire my big fat greedy mouth shut, this would be all so easy.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-84002986629645808822011-04-15T15:00:00.000-07:002011-04-15T15:24:01.021-07:00Getting MarriedWell it's a funny old business getting married isn't it?<div><br /></div><div>You have this image of looking blissful and slender, wafting about in something fabulous, while your fatter and spottier friends hover around the edges of your peripheral vision, murmering their admiration about how spectacular the whole day is and how radiant you look.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, the reality is very different.</div><div><br /></div><div>You spend about a year and a not such a small fortune ordering stuff like bunting, fairy cakes and ribbon. Agonise over the guest list and arguments about reception drinks and the fact you can't stop thinking you're going to fall over in your wedding high heels. Then the day goes by in a complete blur and you can't remember any of it apart from the chronic indigestion and the fact you fell over drunk in front of your mum.</div><div><br /></div><div>My wedding rings are nice though!</div><div><br /></div><div>And the honeymoon to Brazil was awesome! </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-17768029405699083692011-04-15T14:51:00.000-07:002011-04-15T14:59:56.847-07:00Been a while...So I haven't updated this bad boy for a year. I've did this year's half marathon a couple of months ago and realised my last post had been amazed that I got round in one piece after the 2010 one!<div><br /></div><div>In the past 12 months a lot has happened:</div><div><ul><li>I done and got myself a new job</li><li>I done and got myself married</li><li>Me and my new husband are buying a new house </li><li>I have become obsessed with the following tele programmes:</li></ul></div><div><ol><li>True Blood</li><li>Glee</li><li>The only way is Essex</li><li>Peter Andre - the Next Chapter</li></ol><ul><li>I haven't lost any weight</li></ul><div><br /></div></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-64826730406934047532010-03-25T14:44:00.000-07:002010-03-25T15:05:07.672-07:00Run, Forest, RunWell bugger me, if I didn't just go and run the Brighton Half Marathon a month ago!<div><br /></div><div>I am most definately built for comfort not speed, so it was nothing but a sporting miracle that I managed to do the training, let alone get round the course on the day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm a human, chubby, bi-ped and ginger version of 'wacky races'.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have developed a perverse love of running tho. It's bizarrely cleansing. and i LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the waving!</div><div><br /></div><div>There are a collection of moves I employ when I'm out and about:</div><div><ul><li>The grim smile (dispatched when running up a steep hill at sympathetic runner coming back the other way)</li><li>The cheery smile (most popular runners greeting)</li><li>The simple hand raise (usually unleashed at runners of the opposite sex, so you can't be accused of trying to flirt with them by smiling when sweating)</li><li>The open mouthed smile and double eyebrow raise (employed at pairs of female runners older than yourself as greeting and physical exclamation of us hilariously "being too old for this!")</li><li>The double eyebrow raise and eyeball roll (used in foul weather conditions as if to communicate "gosh aren't we bonkers!" to other stupid idiots out in the pissing rain)</li></ul><div>I have committed to three others to raise money for Haiti. </div><div><br /></div><div>And if I hadn't discovered 'carb loading', I would have been expected to have been a size 8 by the wedding. But sadly, my greedy little monkey paws can't stop reaching into the bread bin.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-14138015810198704912010-03-25T14:30:00.000-07:002010-03-25T14:44:35.789-07:00Cheating on Weight Watchers with Slimming WorldWho would have thought it, I've turned to red/green side.<div><br /></div><div>I did it because it was right next to work and they had a big banner outside and it was in a church and I wanted to see if Jesus would help make me thin.</div><div><br /></div><div>Would Jesus turn my lard into evian? He bloody hasn't - the big resurrected meanie. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the eating plan has been a REVELATION. It takes a while to get your head around it, but it's a godsend for the greedy.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a green day, you can literally eat pasta and rice ALL DAY and it's all allowed. It's just too exciting to go through all the details now, but if you do it right, you can lose 3 - 4 lbs a week and KEEP IT OFF. I tell you it was like an episode of Majorie Dawes and Fight Fighters in there. All of us gagging for a Toblerone, but making do with a Total 0% yoghurt.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyhoot, needless to say, with my flibberdegibbet attitude, I lasted about 4 weeks. I have lost weight, but that's down to the running.</div><div><br /></div><div>And it feels very odd talking about Slimming World as I'm sat here in front of the tele with a mug of full fat Horlicks, burping up the four rounds of peanut butter on toast I had for tea "because I wasn't really hungry".</div><div><br /></div><div>If I was in the film 7 with Brad Pitt, I would be the gluttony murder victim.</div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-66272126726142629502010-03-25T14:11:00.001-07:002010-03-25T14:28:39.806-07:00I'm back!Hello dear reader.<div><br /></div><div>Oh my, has it really been eight months since my last post? </div><div><br /></div><div>I have become as lazy as my darling fiance... oh, yes, dear reader, in those eight months, the following things have happened:</div><div><ul><li>We went on am amazing holiday to Bali</li><li>...where we got engaged</li><li>I ran a half marathon (and committed to four more, like a blithering idiot)</li><li>I cheated on Weight Watchers with Slimming World</li><li>I went for the 70's Fleetwood Mac look for Sian's wedding, accessorised with heaps of bangles and silver gladiator sandals</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div>So the proposal:</div><div>Who'd have thought it, but I'm a traditionalist at heart.</div><div>Sweetheart saved it all up for the second last day and asked me under a full Bali moon on our private beach after a candle lit private meal in our Villa!</div><div>He had the ring in his shorts pocket for 2 weeks before the big night and chose very well indeed.</div><div>Not so well that I can't blow a couple of monkey's on the wedding ring though (heh heh!).....</div><div>We spent al the next day playing in the pool and planning the music and wedding cakes. </div><div>Actually one of the happiest days of my life so far.</div><div><br /></div><div>*wipes away emotional tear*</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I got home and started a wedding scrapbook.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am bridezilla. hear me roar! well... get sniffy about the pantone reference of icing sugar...</div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-28164960716271042612010-03-25T14:11:00.000-07:002010-03-25T14:12:03.321-07:00I'm backLucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-74631228251822933212009-07-25T11:06:00.000-07:002009-07-25T11:44:00.969-07:00Shopping for wedding outfitsWhat larks, dear reader<div><br /></div><div>A chum is getting spliced in three weeks and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i'm</span></span> on the hunt for an outfit.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is absolutely no chance in the world that I am going to be even in the same league of good looking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ness</span></span> as the rest of the guests. For a start the bride is a GORGEOUS <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">blonde</span></span> size 8 who wears the most <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fashionable</span></span> city shorts with high heels and all of her other mates are a maximum size 10, all of which are tanned, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blonde</span></span> goddesses or fabulously sleek <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">limbed</span> brunettes.</div><div><br /></div><div>This tubby <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ginge</span></span>, just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ain't</span> gonna cut it at this party.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, it does give one a certain freedom in the wardrobe dept. They all either don't know me from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">adam</span> or think I'm a bit of a twat anyway, so if I chipped up in a Banana Man costume, it would be rather par for the course. With this in mind, anything off the high street will attract zero interest, so I can look as stupid as I like.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cue the ridiculous shoes I have just bought <a href="http://www.irregularchoice.com/">http://www.irregularchoice.com/</a></div><div><br /></div><div>My boots are so ace and new and brilliant that they're not even on the website yet! They're silver <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">material</span>, with rows and rows of different colour metallic spots on them, with a lace up in blue ribbon at the back. I am going to wear them with either:</div><div><ul><li>a light green vintage 60s shift dress with a big panel of lace down the front</li><li>An electric blue, silk, floor length <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">fleetwood</span></span> mac style 70's number (first choice if temperature is less than 20 degrees)</li><li>A bright green knee length <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">grecian</span></span> style dress I bought in the M&S sale today (is a bit bland, so am going to put different coloured ribbon around my waist to match the shoes and peacock feathers in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">barnet</span>)</li></ul></div><div>Awesome awesome awesome!</div><div><br /></div><div>Sweetheart doesn't seem to mind if I look like a ginger <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">leprecaun</span></span> on acid and I don't know any <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">fecker</span></span> apart from the bride, so I'm planning to chip up dressed like I ran through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Littlewoods</span></span> in 1974 on my way to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">marc</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">bolan</span></span> concert, get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">leathered</span></span> on the free booze, flirt with the brides dad and be sick in the taxi home. EXCELLENT NIGHT OUT! </div><div><br /></div><div>Last time I did that though, I had to be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">escourted</span></span> from the wedding reception at 8pm, totally shitfaced after slurring at the people I had deemed as "boring" - "i <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">don't</span> care you're not talking to me - you're all a bunch of c**** anyway!"</div><div><br /></div><div>*close eyes in horror at own shame*</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not all that good with strangers. Sweetheart thinks I'm super confident, but that's only because I have to do the jazz hands <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">shizit</span> for the two of us because he has a massive confidence issue. In reality, I'm cringing inside and have to have about a bottle of rose inside me before I can talk to people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not a fact one of my best <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">marras</span> was concerned about when she made me do a reading at her wedding a couple of years ago - but that's all water under the bridge now. I'm going to make her do a dance routine in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">freakin</span>' leotard at mine.</div><div><br /></div><div>God, better buy something off the wedding list this weekend. With only 3 weeks to go the affordable stuff will all be gone and the only stuff left will be single salad forks (which will make me look like a tight arse) or a dining room table. Damn my tardiness.</div><div><br /></div><div>I tell you what, grapple fans - if I ever get spliced I'm going to make it fancy dress and we're all have a lovely old sing song to Dolly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Parton</span> and Queen instead of all of this stressful giant dress, sit down tea and massive event business.</div><div><br /></div><div>eeks!</div><div> </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-310927977658802252009-07-25T10:53:00.000-07:002009-07-25T11:06:49.955-07:00broken neckSo I totally broke my neck last week.<div><br /></div><div>Well, OK, seriously pulled the muscles in it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Eitherway</span> it was incredibly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">painful</span>. I'm not sure why or how I did it, but I did something odd to the muscles on the right shoulder blade, which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tightened</span> and shortened them, which in turn pulled the muscles on the left side until I was constantly pulling the one that runs down your head and over your shoulder that starts with S and has 6 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">syllables</span>. That was the one that hurt. A lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>Super Sam @ Body & Soul who sorted it put me through 45 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mins</span> of intensive full on agony on Tuesday night - but by Thursday night I could turn my head again and sleep without painkillers. Awesome. I then went back on Friday night (I know, the glamour) for stage two of magical neck recovery and now I can pretty much spin my head around like an owl and could go for a run this morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>What was a bit worrying was my mum emailing me with a recipe for mixing non prescription painkillers to get the most effect cocktail of pain relief. Impressive, but slightly worrying - don't think you learn that from Women & Home. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes I know this post is minus in amusement value. But it dominated my week, so you're hearing about it anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-26207880333198210702009-07-25T10:49:00.000-07:002009-07-25T10:53:37.415-07:00middle class brightonI saw something on my street today, that I only thought I would see on the streets of east <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">dulwich</span>. I am <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">afriad</span>.<div><br /></div><div>A whole family wearing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">crocs</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The father was a too old for the jeans and hat he was sporting</div><div><br /></div><div>He was playing a harmonica while his women folk (all wearing funny bits of material <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wrapped</span> around their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">coiffeured</span> heads) all simpered with delight</div><div><br /></div><div>i bet they had mung beans in their hessian shopping bags</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">noooooooooooooooooooooooooo</span>!</div><div><br /></div><div>Where are the gay <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">body-poppers</span> and vomiting teenagers? where are the pierced <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">rockerbillies</span> with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">mexican</span> skull tattoos?</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh - it's OK readers - PHEW - a very drunk homeless man is asleep in a neighbours doorway a couple of doors down on the opposite side.</div><div><br /></div><div>THAT - my darlings - was a close one.</div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-64031135136397051652009-07-25T10:44:00.000-07:002009-07-25T10:48:55.804-07:00ANNOYING GOOGLEMan alive, they're pissing me off!<div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Every time</span> I want to log into this ruddy blog I have to reset the pass word - TO THE SAME PASSWORD I MAY ADD - to get access.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know they're making it super annoying and hard because i still <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">don,t</span> have a a google mail account. I don't WANT one. I have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hotmail</span> AND a yahoo! and yahoo! has just started to get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">interesting</span> with all of my contacts starting to get a bit more vital.</div><div><br /></div><div>Am going to start looking for new blog facility - but I bet it's going to be really hard to export all of my current posts to a new one. Bah!</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone with any advice (out of the 2 people that read this, that 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">obv</span> including myself) please let me know. Is really annoying</div><div><br /></div><div>Ta <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">muchly</span></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-48326681352906219562009-07-18T01:39:00.000-07:002009-07-18T01:49:17.681-07:00Looking forward to seeing RB later<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Calloo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Callay</span>, dear reader, I am seeing one of my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">bessy</span> pals, RB later today.<div><br /></div><div>She is one of the most impressive and professional people in the world. She pretty much <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">redfines</span> the word 'inspirational' in each job she has and if they could, I think her line <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">managers</span> would clone her and make an army of PR soldiers to take over the world (although secretly, you know PR people actually run the world anyway...).</div><div><br /></div><div>She has also been my boss twice - and she is fucking hardcore. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, what I particularly love about her is the fact that although she is super human and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">uber</span> professional in the work place, not many people know that:</div><div><ul><li>when she gets home late at night, she often puts lumps of cheese in the microwave to melt them before eating them</li><li>she has a season ticket to the Oval (is it called a season ticket in Cricket-land?) and when she goes to matches, she sits and watches it while listening to the commentary on headphones (loser)</li><li>she gets annoyed at her lovely husband because he doesn't like many vegetables</li></ul><div>I am very much looking forward to seeing her and her mum (who also has bonkers hair) later and drinking too much red wine and probably falling over.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Horray</span>!</div></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-58734025755505033742009-07-18T01:26:00.000-07:002009-07-18T01:39:11.474-07:00meeting new peopleAlthough sweetheart hates it, now we're settled in and been in Brighton for 6 months, I'm trying to get us out and about to meet people and make friends.<div><br /></div><div>Lat night we went next door to our fabulous neighbours for a couple of civilised drinks to get to know them and our neighbours on the other side.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dear reader, it's 9.27am the next day and I am still drunk.</div><div><br /></div><div>Man alive, we put it away. I can't even remember getting home and we LIVE NEXT DOOR. Yikes. I whole <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">heartedly</span> expect I was a massive twat and won't be invited back, but I am a bit in love with all our neighbours now. </div><div><br /></div><div>N&M on the other side are pretty much the most attractive couple in Brighton (annoying? yes, of course) and have an amazing house that they've gutted and renovated and they are about 5 years younger than us (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">feckers</span>). I&C next door's house used to be a restaurant and the original <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Lavendar</span> Exchange! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">I's</span> dad is a ridiculously talented artist and they have two cats I think I probably tried to smuggle home under my dress.</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, the sense of utter <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">inadequateness</span> that I feel on a daily basis at work, has been amplified about ten fold by trying to make friends. Boo. It all makes me want to go and have another tattoo. I think drawing something else on my body will make me a more interesting person.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mum, look into my eyes - you didn't just read that - these are not the droids you are looking for....</div><div><br /></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-11055320850418027462009-07-18T01:13:00.000-07:002009-07-18T01:26:09.294-07:00British Military PunishmentI've thrown myself into the fray, dear reader and joined British Military Fitness with one of the girls from work.<div><br /></div><div>I have to confess, the idea of being bossed about by a burly soldier in big boots and combat trews a couple of time a week was actually more compelling than the exercise part of the deal, but I thought that if I got thinner WHILE being a perv was a massive bonus.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">soldiers</span> are older and not as lush as I was anticipating (unsurprisingly, they don't look anything like all the blokes in Platoon) and they actually work you like a bitch.</div><div><br /></div><div>Stella and I made <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">the</span> SCHOOL GIRL error of volunteering to go up a group from the pansy blues to the reds on Thursday and I swear to god I've snapped something that I didn't even know I had inside my tummy.</div><div><br /></div><div>They literally make you drop down and give them 20 (press ups - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fnarr</span>) if you don't pay attention and on Thursday, we were all spotted standing with out hands on our hips after doing the assault course (going under the cargo net was my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fav</span> bit. although i wasn't very good at going in a straight line) trying to stop ourselves vomiting from exertion, so we were made to run to the next instructor with our hands on out hips shouting "i will not put my hands on my hips".</div><div><br /></div><div>It's would actually be totally hilarious if I didn't want to die after every class.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll be a size 8 this time next year though. </div><div><br /></div><div>Which will be a total result as currently my thighs are a size 8 each. </div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-3199650740637087122009-07-18T01:03:00.000-07:002009-07-18T01:13:01.026-07:00freakishly healthy people at workOK, so you know I'm chubby and eat and drink too much yeah? and I have no <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">discernable</span> "skills" other than being able to put my whole fist in my mouth and play music on my teeth...<div><br /></div><div>Well the new job is really testing me in ways I never expected it would. Dear reader, they are ALL massive health freaks.</div><div><br /></div><div>In my first few days I discovered the following:</div><div>They all want to do the new Brighton marathon "because Brighton has been lobbying for one for ages" - I'm sorry = WHAT?!? fuck me, at our old gaff in SE London the locals were lobbying for a new needle exchange centre, but we didn't all have to become bloody smack head to "support it"</div><div>About 70% of them have tried at least one extreme sport - the girl that sits opposite me wake boarded TO WORK the other day</div><div>Two of my bosses have done the Tough Guy race (google it, go on, I dare you, get behavioural targeted by an endurance race) 4 years in a row</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's all a bit stressful to be honest. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's bad enough moving to a new city and a brand new job, to find out that you are a totally inadequate human being in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">you're</span> first few days is a little more than I was banking on.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hmm</span>, Bank...Bankers... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">chiiiiiiiiiiiiips</span>...........</div><div><br /></div><div>STOP STOP STOP!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Must stop eating cheese on toast in my knickers and sleepy t-shirt and go for a run!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh</span></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-59963899801105029572009-07-18T00:55:00.001-07:002009-07-18T01:03:39.862-07:00new job = awesomeSo I have been in the new job for 4 (count em) weeks and larks a mercy, it's going frighteningly well. I have so far convinced them of the following:<div><ul><li>I know what I am doing</li><li>I know what I am talking about</li><li>I am mostly sober</li></ul><div>All in all a bit of a result!</div><div><br /></div><div>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">feckers</span> made me pitch in my first week and do a presentation about online PR and search "stuff" in my second week at an industry exhibition, but according to our website, I "swam" despite being thrown in the deep end. They obviously haven't realised that the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">rictus</span> spasm of fear on my face isn't actually a smile yet. Ah well - I'll start being evil quite soon and forcing my team to get in on time and they'll regret hiring me - but by then it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">will</span> be too late as I will be over my probation period. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">mwha</span> ha ha..!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's a great company tho - we genuinely do some ace stuff - so regular readers who want some proper online PR - TAKE NOTE! and give us an opportunity to pitch for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">your</span> business. I promise you won't regret it.</div><div><br /></div><div>(honestly, as if I have regular readers...)</div><div><br /></div></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-90423339729723138132009-05-04T02:18:00.000-07:002009-05-04T02:23:52.361-07:00back on weight watchers - 18 points a dayOh good grief<div><br /></div><div>I'm only a bloody stone heavier than I want to be. How did that happen? Literally ALL I've been eating is choclit and cheese - I mean that's protein and sugar - no carbs OR ANYTHING!</div><div><br /></div><div>But anyhoot. Breakfast has been toast without butter and jam. 4 points.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have 14 points left for the rest of the day. Even the wet catfood pouches are looking tasty already.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-12447834671047805442009-05-02T04:27:00.000-07:002009-05-02T04:35:34.984-07:00parents down for weekendWe had the first set of parents down last weekend. Mine. So a real baptism of fire. Happily we were all drunk for about 50% of it, but these were the moments of note:<br /><ul><li>Mum's barely concealed delight at spotting the naturist beach and an elderly penis on the walk to the Marina</li><li>Dad getting cross because he couldn't work the new mobile handset Tat had given to mum</li><li>Me and Dad getting sunburnt - the ginger force was strong in our house last weekend</li><li>Mum loudly talking about being able to see the sea when she was sitting on the toilet when the windows were open and the neighbours were outside</li><li>Mum nearly walking into a wall when she saw Chris Eubank</li><li>Mum getting cross when she found out we hadn't told her that David Walliams was having lunch in the same place as us (see mums reaction above for reason why we kept that one quiet)</li><li>Mum getting confused with the fact our bedroom is down stairs and repeatedly walking in the wrong direction to go to the kitchen</li><li>Dad getting cross when restaurants gave us bread at the beginning of the meal "I haven't asked for it, so I'm not paying for it"</li></ul>Can't imagine how fun packed Christmas will be!Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-89848436700457709602009-05-02T04:24:00.001-07:002009-05-02T04:27:01.237-07:00my sitting room looks like the OdeonSo we have a bigger sitting room since we moved. But not so big that I don't notice when sweetheart "smuggles" in new giant surround sound speakers. At the moment we have a 42 inch TV (which he isn't happy with any more and wants a projector - WHAT?!?) and 3 massive speakers around it that don't even fit on the TV cabinet thing.<br /><br />Sadly it's now his responsibility to find a new piece of furniture to house everything, so I'm going to be staring at it for years to come<br /><br />*sigh*Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231723861903444314.post-77544576300645931862009-04-05T04:17:00.000-07:002009-04-23T00:37:59.541-07:00power plate actionSpurred on by the thought of going on an expensive holiday this year (big up the house sale - watch my profit turn to nothing as I squander it on global warming long haul flights and on shoes)... I've upped the anti (i wish it was auntie - imagine how hilarious "upping up your auntie would be) and as well as the gym, I'm also now doing power plates with one of the girls at work.<br /><br />GOOD LORD.<br /><br />Dear reader, if you have enjoyed some power plate action yourself in the past you'll know just how bonkers it is.<br /><br />You basically stand on a huge vibrating metal plate and do half an hour of your normal exercises - dips, press ups, leg stretches, etc. 25 mins of power plating is the equivalent of an hour of weights. Sounds too good to be true until you've try and walk quickly back to the office afterwards to find that your internal organs have turned to jelly and all of your previously underused muscle groups are freaking out and shaking.<br /><br />They are berillinat though. Have just been to gym today and after 2 PP sessions, I can run faster and further and have upped my weights on the machines.<br /><br />Awesome. I'm going to be like a size zero batman. Lush.Lucia Sparklehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12652886856603760262noreply@blogger.com0