My weeks seem eccentric when I try to take stock of them week by week.
Started off with a fancy dress party I organised, but due to the nature of things, I hadn't sent the invites out early enough to get a big crowd. I was X-Men's Storm, so had fun with the whitest wig I could find. It wasn't white enough really, but close enough. Every party clear up seems to involve removing silly-string from places around the home that I hadn't realised had been sprayed. It's a rule never to grow up, so I'll still be doing this when I'm 90.
Topping up my tan has obviously been a part of this week, just looking at the sun is enough to pep up the melatonin levels in my skin. The tone changes from honey to full on. I never seem to appear bi-racial to anyone. Probably as my mother has some Spanish heritage so I guess there are no 'blonde genes' in my family tree.
Off to buy new summer make up, several shades darker. People always advise me not to try make-up on my hands which is eventually for use on my face, but I always do it. This week my hands are reacting horribly, with an angry rash. And yet my face will allow me to use the same products. I'd love to know why my hands are allergic to chemicals that my face isn't.
Having a party on a Sunday meant I inevitably overslept for my work with autistic children on the Monday. Taking my daughter to school in a cab so that I could get to where I needed to be on time was an extravagance that I don't usually make. The children are all different and this was 1-2-1 with a new boy, who couldn't understand more than one thought at a time. The patience I've learned while trying to communicate with autistic children has opened life up for me. Always impatient by nature, I've learned to take more things in my stride and appreciate the little things when they do eventually arrive.
Visited my grandmother in her nursing home this week. Her Alzheimer's means that she fixates on one film, or song, in a similar way. At the moment she's obsessed with wearing green, watching "Singin' in the Rain" and looking at one particular picture of my grandfather. She'd been having a party in her room, sharing crisps and a joke with another resident with the same name. It went slightly wrong when the woman saw a photo of my grandfather and suggested that she'd 'been out with him'. Relations turned frosty at that point, but then they introduced themselves to each other all over again. "Really, but that's MY name" every ten minutes is actually amusing to watch and harmless for both of them. They both claimed to enjoy the party, even though it was spontaneous and they will have forgotten about it by next week. Little things.
Did some promotions work in Shoreditch this weekend. Hipsters and strange wall art are just part of this corner of East London... Not sure what I think about this...
I think I'd prefer a Banksy, but I suppose it's better than too much grey concrete.
Monday and Tuesday off, then the unknown starts again. Speak soon.
Started off with a fancy dress party I organised, but due to the nature of things, I hadn't sent the invites out early enough to get a big crowd. I was X-Men's Storm, so had fun with the whitest wig I could find. It wasn't white enough really, but close enough. Every party clear up seems to involve removing silly-string from places around the home that I hadn't realised had been sprayed. It's a rule never to grow up, so I'll still be doing this when I'm 90.
Topping up my tan has obviously been a part of this week, just looking at the sun is enough to pep up the melatonin levels in my skin. The tone changes from honey to full on. I never seem to appear bi-racial to anyone. Probably as my mother has some Spanish heritage so I guess there are no 'blonde genes' in my family tree.
Off to buy new summer make up, several shades darker. People always advise me not to try make-up on my hands which is eventually for use on my face, but I always do it. This week my hands are reacting horribly, with an angry rash. And yet my face will allow me to use the same products. I'd love to know why my hands are allergic to chemicals that my face isn't.
Having a party on a Sunday meant I inevitably overslept for my work with autistic children on the Monday. Taking my daughter to school in a cab so that I could get to where I needed to be on time was an extravagance that I don't usually make. The children are all different and this was 1-2-1 with a new boy, who couldn't understand more than one thought at a time. The patience I've learned while trying to communicate with autistic children has opened life up for me. Always impatient by nature, I've learned to take more things in my stride and appreciate the little things when they do eventually arrive.
Visited my grandmother in her nursing home this week. Her Alzheimer's means that she fixates on one film, or song, in a similar way. At the moment she's obsessed with wearing green, watching "Singin' in the Rain" and looking at one particular picture of my grandfather. She'd been having a party in her room, sharing crisps and a joke with another resident with the same name. It went slightly wrong when the woman saw a photo of my grandfather and suggested that she'd 'been out with him'. Relations turned frosty at that point, but then they introduced themselves to each other all over again. "Really, but that's MY name" every ten minutes is actually amusing to watch and harmless for both of them. They both claimed to enjoy the party, even though it was spontaneous and they will have forgotten about it by next week. Little things.
Did some promotions work in Shoreditch this weekend. Hipsters and strange wall art are just part of this corner of East London... Not sure what I think about this...
I think I'd prefer a Banksy, but I suppose it's better than too much grey concrete.
Monday and Tuesday off, then the unknown starts again. Speak soon.
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