It’s June, also known as the beginning of the end. On Saturday I had a half an hour debate with myself over whether I should put on tights: if I wear them I look like a Wednesday Addams wannabe, and if I don’t I have to show the world my less than supermodel legs. In the end I decided to go for the lesser of two evils and try to give off the image that I’m wearing 120 denier control tights to push the boundaries of what’s accepted by society. Summer just isn’t my forte, but instead of writing yet another post about how I miss the pleasure that a mild, cloudy, day brings me, I’ve decided to be more positive and mention all the things I’ve been loving as of late.
- Actors from my favourite television shows tweeting each other. It’s been 7 years since The OC ended, and 7 years since I said goodbye to the small glimmer of hope that Seth Cohen might move to England and fall in love with me. However, seeing Kelly Rowan and Melinda Clarke at dinner together, and Peter Gallagher tweeting about it afterwards only solidifies my love for the show and gives me hope that Kirsten and Julie might one day be back on our screens, bitching about the Newpsies. It also cements my theory that I care more about fictional characters than real people.
- Spending time with my family. This past weekend I saw my Nana, and after an hour of chatting about biscuits and seeing her new M&S skirts, I informed her that I’d be home in a week and would pop round to see her. Her response? “I’ve seen you now, you don’t need to bother with that!” She’s a gem.
- Animal interspecies friendships. Dogs kissing cats, cats hugging bunnies – you name it, I’ve seen it – I can’t think of anything better than endlessly clicking on YouTube videos of animal BFF’s. I’ve always been a soft touch, but I might as well settle in with a tub of ice-cream, The Notebook and a box of tissues now because I’ve officially lost all ability to pretend I’m secretly hard as nails. If a cat can cuddle a bunny then surely there’s hope for the rest of humanity too.
- New hair. Now my life can also be a poorly made romantic comedy, complete with makeover montage where I fall down the stairs wearing my new heels afterwards! Quick question – if there’s no-one around to like my selfie, did it ever really happen?
Of course, I still hate passive aggressive tweeters and people eating on public transport, so at heart I’m still the same miserable cow that I’ve always been.