Me (passing by sign in H&M window): So what exactly is a visual merchandiser?
Him (without skipping a beat): That’s for women. See, then buy.

Weather report: White gipsy skirt alert.

I have decided to export my blog to an alternative provider so I can blog in the shroud of anonymity. Does anyone have any hints or tips to make the transfer go smoothly? And has anyone used Greymatter or WordPress?

Edited to add: Or free blog hosts like Livejournal, Blogger or 20six )?

Sometimes it’s a chicken
Sometimes it’s a chair
Sometimes it’s a piece of cheese
Suspended in the air

– Edward Monkton

Consider yourself told.

According to Bay Trading, I have size 10 shoulders and size 8 boobs. The danger of this in a wrap top is that when you plump for the top that doesn’t imprison your underarms you end up unwittingly flashing random people. Will, of course, have to make greater effort next time with pretty undies.

I also appear to have a size 8/10 arse and thighs and a size 6 waist, and shops who make all their clothes for apple-shaped people should start getting a clue. Although this may cease to be a problem if I continue eating prawn crackers at the rate I have been doing tonight.

Follow-up to EarPlugs

So the Koss Plugs don’t fit. Because I can’t get them into my ear canals, because they are indeed abnormally small. And yes, I did do everything I was supposed to (we tested my technique by putting them in Him’s ears!).

So I didn’t go running (confession: not entirely due to being music-deprived).

So I tried out some airplane earplugs this morning, which proved far more effective, and this weekend I’m going to do some Koss Plug mods.

{dance of joy}

Speaking of dance of joy, did anyone ever watch Perfect Strangers (with Larry and Balki)? Yeah, that’s another cheesy thing I remember.

For some reason I’ve just started thinking about the first-ever pop song I can remember listening to (and learning by heart).

I’ve been away from you for far too long
Too much chances make my heart go frantic
I wanna tell you what’s been goin’ on,
operator give me Trans Atlantic
I sit alone as the night goes by
Stare at the phone and wait for your reply

CHORUS:
Long long distance love affair, I can’t find you anywhere
I call you on the telephone, but you’re never home
I gotta get a message to you, I wanna tell you what I’m going through
What in the world’s comin’ over you

How come you’re acting like a total stranger
I try to reach you but I can’t get through
I got this feeling that my heart’s in danger
I got your letter it was perfectly clear
Havin’ a ball, and wishin’ you are here

CHORUS

Premonition is a funny thing, a familiar kind of pain and easy
Like knowin’ when the phone is gonna ring
Too many times and it’ll drive you crazy
I hear your echo in the longer hall
Call out your name, but no-one’s there at all

Long long distance love affair, I can’t find you anywhere
I call you on the telephone, but you’re never home

(repeats out)

I also remember memorising all the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby and all of Debbie Gibson’s songs. So now you know what decade I grew up in.

And I’d like to say that my music tastes have improved, but no, still same old same old cheesy!

I was really positive the whole of yesterday (helped along by serious romantic buzz through watching Notting Hill, Bridget Jones’s Diary and Love Actually in the same number of days) and somehow today it’s all gone down the toilet.

Bah.

I blame the people who’ve been sending me spectacularly unfriendly emails and the people who make me feel like a complete moron (even if I am, really).

And there’s not really any point to this entry apart from the fact that having a moan makes me feel a little bit better.

Follow-up to Music That Stays Put

So following Him’s verdict that the Sony phones wouldn’t fit into my (apparently) abnormally-narrow ear canals, I am now the proud owner of a pair of purple Koss Plugs. I haven’t tried them on yet – I (rather sensibly, I thought) decided to leave the gymnastics that appear to be required to fit them in your ears properly to the safety of my living room where everyone knows I look odd anyway.

A review to follow, I hope. I’m sure I’ll want to test them out very soon – in all probability by going for a punishing run tomorrow evening to work out all the rotten stuff in my head.

Draw a pig.

Here’s my pig: