Italia Yodels

Belle was recently asked to go to Italy.

By an Italian man.

Get me.

He emailed me and wanted me to go to Carnivale, by myself, to a gorgeous part of Italy as he wants to 'catch up'.

Apparently he had been talking to mutual friends about my skin and hair (bit weird, i have to say as I've met him twice, once on holiday last July and again on a work trip in September).

Worrying? or a great opportunity? Belle ponders what her life could have been like if i had taken him up on his offer...

Pros of going:

• Free Accomodation, food and probably drinks (mmmm Italian vodka)
  
• Amazing Clubs on the beach
• Beaches (without chubby British men clambering about in their socks and sandals)
  
• Marriage in Italy (enough said really)
  
• Hot weather (Belle has a distinct hatred towards the cold)
  
• Skiing in winter (Belle has never skied, but it's nice to have the option on a great big mountain instead of Milton Keynes' Snowdome, eh?)
  
• Olive skinned babies

Cons of going:

• My boyfriend would probably disapprove.

Time goes by but i'm holding on..

Yes, you did in fact see correctly, i am using a title taken from an Atomic Kitten song.

It sums up how lapse i have been with this blog to a T, baby.

So the new job and the vodka continues, the vodka has upgraded itself to cocktails and Sailor Jerry's (not together, i'm not that much of an alcoholic) and mostly takes hold of my throat on a Friday or a Saturday night. Belle decided to be cheeky today, indulging in a small drink a day before work ends as she spent half of her afternoon emailing the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times.

Today's tipple comes in the form of Savanna Dry Cider (still classy), fresh from the tretcherous shelves of the Sainsburys down the road. Today the normal Sainsburys experience ensued: upon entering through the automatic doors and heading to the magazine and newspaper wall (as one does everytime one enters Sainsburys Superstore), I was halted by what appeared to be a Wizard, fully attired in a velour, purple smock and a black velvet cloak walking just infront of me. His mate, whom i can only class as a witch, indeed also had a cloak but was more witchly dressed in a purple dress and leather boots.

I must admit i was slightly shocked upon seeing this. The sweet country girl that I am is used to the sight of tweed, MUSTO and Hunters (which also make me want to break out in hives) and so i could actually feel my face contorting into confusion. I half expected them to pull out a staff and re-enact the Gandalf scene in Lord of Rings: 'You Shall not Pass to buy Grazia!'

In panic mode i aimed for the root vegetable aisle, clearly normal thinking as my friend S always remarks on how root vegetables are the root of all evil. (I think my brain was aiming for the correlation between their evilness helping me to fight back. Either that or i have subconciously notice that hoards of students congregating near the potatoes and i could hurl one (a student, not a potato) at the magical couple (with my super strength) and run away to hide).

Sufficed to say, after five incredibly tense moments of me eyeing this week's Grazia, the Wizard and his partner moved along to the spice section and I continued on my quest to find toothpaste, magazine in hand.

Getting distracted in the spirits aisle i wandered over to the boldly displayed variations of tasty cider and upon craning my head to get a better look at the price of Kopperburg compared to Savanna, I noticed a glistening off to my left. Turning I bore witness to a 60 year old woman dressed in a full on fur coat, pearls, diamond earrings and high heels, complete with a full face of make-up that any member of a Benefit concession would be proud of.

Sometimes i wonder why i moved to the city.

The joys of Vodka and a new job...

Perhaps the sweestest thing about Vodka is its lack of taste. You can drink, as I may have been doing, say a pint of it; mixed with lemonade and elderflower (i may be a lush, but i am a classy lush) and never really know that the vodka is there......

Except for the headache in the morning and the mild sensation that vodka may be the devil and you never want to see another bottle of Absolut again. Until tomorrow. God, don't you love Fridays?

Belle has been rather down lately as you may have guessed-reason being that she would very much like to be getting on with her life and yet she seems to be sitting on a roundabout (not literally - that would be completely ridiculous, but metaphorically). The same places and faces, the same living environment, the same job. It all gets a little depressing.

And so....

Belle discovered the world of Public Relations.

What a wonderful world this is. Full of celebrities, beautiful houses, exclusive offices, oh and sock campaigns. And Belle gets paid to write.

It's like heaven with a paycheck and a desk space.


Ready? I'm about to sitcom it up!!






Next Time on Belle of the Ball....?

Belle goes in search of a house.........
a mini adventure in real estate failure...



oh crap, i ruined it....
xx

Apparently I may have...

in a fit of rage, deleted half of my posts. Truly sad. Let us take a moment's silence for the 10 blog posts that have been lost due to the carelessness of Belle and her angry, volatile nature.












....don't look up, or breathe, we're having a moments silence.....


















....I can see you doing it................







right, enough of that.

I would try and condense my previous blogs in one giant blog and then it would all be fine, however, I cant be bothered.

So to sum up what Belle has been doing since august I shall simply use one sentence.

Fucking train wreck.....

Oh, perhaps I don't need a sentence.
xx

Colds

Have. To. Be. The. Worst. Thing. Ever.

And I seem to always have one. If I pump myself full of echinacea I might be able to flush it out of my system.

Do believe the echinacea pills to be against me as according to them I should take 2-3 pills everytime I eat.

Perhaps i'm far too paranoid for my own good.......

However I think they're trying to fatten me up against my will.

To Blog or not to blog?

Do we think its immoral to Blog and then job search whilst at work? Probably.

Will I still continue to do it? Yes.

(I will still feel guilty about it though- this probably comes from the thought of being caught doing said searching and blogging.)

Must remember not to use bosses desktop for any of these as she can check computers movements from home. Uh Oh.

Cinderella

I think it will take alot more than a fairy to turn a life around.

I'm not the type of girl who wants a happily ever after anyways, let alone to need to depend on a man, but do you think Cinderella ever turned around and said, 'Oi Fairy Godmother, instead of making me look hot for this ball, do you think maybe you could possibly actually make the slave labour inducing hours working my butt off cleaning for these dirty bitches come across well in my CV? Cos i'm kinda sick of these diggs?'

Nah Cinders you stick to Prince Charming.

Well Over-due

Ok so I realise blogging has been around for an unbelievably long time however, I have only just succumbed to the itchy feet and actually started my own.

In short, I am a writer. A completely unknown writer who works in a job where there is no writing involved apart from taking down orders and creating new rota sheets. My job, which I actually believe to be slowly killing off my brain cells, is monotonously boring at times and I decided I need to actually start writing again.

What a better way than to create a blog and share my confusing thoughts on life, love and style with people who i'm sure won't care, but may be going through the same things as me and might have a take on it.

Perhaps a few lines a day may do me the world of good.......Perhaps not.