Yes yes yes, I know I am proper bo shite at getting down to it and writing. It took some shameless revelling in my own glory when a friend asked me to get back to writing, to get my arse into gear and take a stab at another installment.
So what have I been doing that has meant I haven't written for while? Absolutely fuck all that's what. The days seem to be disappearing into some sort of wormhole, that my parallel universe me is enjoying. Right now Polly on the planet Zogg is so overstocked in time that they have been able to read 100's of books, ride bicycles, eat pie, fashioning darling accessories out of left over fabric and old jewellery (note these are all things that I want to do but never seem to do!), while me, Polly on the planet Earth, seems to work, eat, rest, shower, maybe watch some 24, play with Cocobun, go to the gym, clean the bog...hang on, may be I do have time, I just got my priorities all wrong! Eating and playing with Cocobun are the only ones that should be on that list. Alas my ability to make nice things out of scraps of old fabric and buttons runs in tandem with the necessity of working to earn some hard cash. Drats. New plan needed! Short of running off with a rich man (which isn't going to happen, I am in it for keeps with a normally financed Haynesy) then I am going to have to find some get rich quick scheme. A cunning plan is needed and quick smart. Although I do have an unchecked lottery ticket in my purse, that could be step one of my cunning plan to financial bliss. Check ticket and hope blindly for the best that I will be a winner........ahhhhh a winner.........winner........winner..........cue dreamsequence......
......I am running through a foggy landscape, draped in black swathes of fabric like ravens wings, there is a howling in the distance...I look over my shoulder and keep running, running away from the terrible howling......as the fog clears it is plain to see that the fog is smog and steam rising from the pavement manhole covers of Manhattan, the black swathes are the best in Vivienne Westwood drapery, I am also sporting a frigging fabulous pair of Nicholas Kirkwood heels, and the howling is the mad pushing of traffic down Broadway. In my dreams I am obviously a fashionista in New York.
In my spare moments my day dream of choice is to think about what I would do if I won the lottery. With millions of pounds carefully ensconced in off shore bank accounts (doing a Jimmy Carr, it's all legal!), a black Amex kept in a McQueen python tote, Cocobuns in a tailormade bunny carrier on my shoulder and me and Haynesy hailing a cab (keeping it real, no private driver) to take us to some fabulously cool, downtown eaterie. Ahhh thats the sort of dream scenario that I must limit to when I am really sitting in Northamptonshire, wearing really old sagging jeans, a wife beater vest and Havianas.
The top things I normally decide when daydreaming about being a lottery winner:
1) Where we will live or more probable where the locations of our various properties will be. London Penthouse, New York Loft, Italian Villa, Balinese Sunseeker, Northamptonshire ..
2) What we will do for family and friends. Paying off mortgages, going on holidays, buying my mum the cd/dvd of every musical ever and paying Michael Balls to sing The Heat is On in Saigon to her
3) The exact size and layout of my "Dressing Room" and its contents. Yes I will have shit loads of clothes, shoes and bags....I am a girl you know!!
4) What business I will amuse myself with when I'm not on holiday. Photographers studio/art gallery/bar for cool trendy peeps, celeb hang out and generally always featured as being "the" place to hang full of musicians, artists and their hangers on. A bit like Andy warhols Factory with me as the fabulous hostess instead of Warhol and his bad haircut
All totally shallow and all totally never going to happen but that's what day dreams are for aren't they? Escapism, falling into a totally unrealistic other world where I am thin and rich and I can eat pizza without worrying that it's going straight onto my arse.
Ahhh well, back to reality. Back to being Polly on planet Earth. Sitting in sunny Northamptonshire, in my lovely home, writing her blog with his highness Sir Cocobun sitting on her feet and waiting for Haynesy to get home so they can eat and watch some 24 before snuggling up to sleep. Reality aint so bad either. A home, Jack Bauer, a couple of snuggle bunnies and love. What more could I want? Nothing I have it all.
Ttfn xxxxxx
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