Even my hair's vegetarian.
Ooh, a very rude man called me 'carrot' outside the station yesterday. I suppose, at least, I am already completely aware of the very carrot like nature of my locks, and am able to dye them if I were bothered should I wish. Failing that, pin them up and reveal my significantly darker hair underneath. He, however, has to spend the rest of his life looking uncannily like a turnip*.
I went out to do some grown-up shopping today (i.e: important things needed in the day to day running of a household) and came back with pick 'n mix and a monkey on a pencil. It's times like this I wonder what kind of parent (not that I'm remotely broody) I'd make. I suppose it depends on how metaphorical offspring feel about brown furry monkeys keeping their pencils warm. *My* life wasn't complete without it.
Meanwhile in the dreamscape, I spent last night playing around with Robert's hair** and was able to fly (a skill that's ben demonstrated before, albeit with flapping. A bit like swimming through air). This is why dreams are better than reality.
Dreams > Reality.
That's: DREAMS > REALITY.
See, a year without Larreh but my Mathematical skills haven't completely disappeared. That's how good a teacher he was.
And OMG, Happy Birthdaythons to the Stephen Fry! Who has, in a way, already had an honorary birthday. But hey, if it's good enough for the Queen he certainly deserves one too.
* Sadly I realised this vegetable similarity a fraction of a second too late and he'd already crossed at the lights. It seemed churlish to run across the road after him to return the compliment.
** On his head. Obviously. And I don't know why he wanted it wet. You don't question these things, especially when you don't usually get the chance to help out in reality. Having said that, his DNA has technically been in *my* hair.
I went out to do some grown-up shopping today (i.e: important things needed in the day to day running of a household) and came back with pick 'n mix and a monkey on a pencil. It's times like this I wonder what kind of parent (not that I'm remotely broody) I'd make. I suppose it depends on how metaphorical offspring feel about brown furry monkeys keeping their pencils warm. *My* life wasn't complete without it.
Meanwhile in the dreamscape, I spent last night playing around with Robert's hair** and was able to fly (a skill that's ben demonstrated before, albeit with flapping. A bit like swimming through air). This is why dreams are better than reality.
Dreams > Reality.
That's: DREAMS > REALITY.
See, a year without Larreh but my Mathematical skills haven't completely disappeared. That's how good a teacher he was.
And OMG, Happy Birthdaythons to the Stephen Fry! Who has, in a way, already had an honorary birthday. But hey, if it's good enough for the Queen he certainly deserves one too.
* Sadly I realised this vegetable similarity a fraction of a second too late and he'd already crossed at the lights. It seemed churlish to run across the road after him to return the compliment.
** On his head. Obviously. And I don't know why he wanted it wet. You don't question these things, especially when you don't usually get the chance to help out in reality. Having said that, his DNA has technically been in *my* hair.