Rain, rain, go away.

One thing you have to know about me: I really hate the rain. Yesterday, whilst walking to meet my friend for a shopping trip, I somehow managed to kick up practically a whole puddle's worth of dirty water all over my feet. As if my toes weren't numb enough due to the cold anyway! And subsequently, said dirty water ruined my beaut velvet shoes. I was so upset, I had to go and buy myself a 17p Freddo to make myself feel a bit better...

The worst thing was, at that particular point in time it wasn't actually raining (so I can be excused for wearing inappropriate footwear!) The ground was just a mass of puddles, which is great if you're dressed for the watery weather with a pair of wellington boots and a mac on, with a rather large umbrella to protect ones barnet. Unfortunately however, I wasn't dressed for the weather, and so I was largely unimpressed.

For me, rain is the worst type of weather. Granted, I'm not the biggest fan of wind, but at least it doesn't soak you to the skin. My favourite type of day is the crisp, cold wintery mornings when the sky is bright blue and the sun is shining. Those types of days make winter seem beautiful; when the ground is frosty and wrapping up for the cold is an attractive prospect. Those types of days, when you don your coat and gloves and you can see your breath in the cold, are the best. It makes you want to go outside and enjoy the cold sunshine. I love days like this in Autumn, when the leaves are brown and cover the ground, and when they are dry and crisp underneath your feet. Last week for example, me and the boy went for a walk in Jesmond Dene, which is just beautiful all year round, but especially in the autumn. Autumn leaves make for wonderful photographs. Here are a few of my favourites:

                                                  Me, on said Jesmond Dene walk.

                                                        I heart this photograph.

                   My friend Philippa, on another Jesmond Dene expedition a couple of years ago.

Rain however, does not make for lovely walks or trips out, like autumn does. Rain ruins trips, whether you are planning a day trip or even nipping to the shop for a pint of milk to warm yourself through with a cup of tea having gotten soaked by said rain. In fact, rain only ever appeals to me if I'm inside my house, tucked up and cosy with my gas fire on, with a film and preferably my boy, when I can stay indoors and stay dry all day. I don't mind the rain when I have nowhere to go and it's hammering on my window, because more than anything it makes me love even more the fact that I'm indoors. Yet there are very few days when I don't need to leave the house at all, meaning I am a target for raindrops and subsequently they keep falling on my head.

I have been caught in many rainstorms in my time. A few weeks ago for example, having left The Journal offices and en route to the Metro station to go home (not before a quick trip to H&M mind), I was caught in a hail storm which soaked me to the skin. This time, I was really thankful that I had my large leopard print umbrella with me (lifesaver), yet again my shoes and the rest of me was absolutely drenched. Another time a couple of years back, I was on my way back from lectures in my ginger fur coat, when the heavens opened. This time, I was without an umbrella, and in my 30 minute walk home I was left looking like a drowned rabbit. Not great. Once I finally arrived home, I jumped straight in the shower for fear I would die of cold, and sat by my electric heater for the rest of the night. My coat took forever to dry, it was just lucky I have about 12 fur coats so the only consolation was that I at least had another coat to wear the next day...

It always seems to rain on my parade.

 This photograph is pretty apt.

You see, raindrops always seem to spoil my day trips out, especially when I plan things for when I venture to the motherland. It NEVER stops raining in Cumbria. I cannot count the times I have planned to go to Keswick for a boating and picnic trip, which has been spoiled by the rain. And the ratty, which is this very cute wooden steam train that goes through the countryside and takes you to this little village called Eskdale, which is just picturesque. Me and the boy finally managed to go at Easter this year, when my cousins from London were visiting and my sister was at home, so we all ventured out and had champagne and strawberries on the ratty (it sounds way more sophistocated than it actually was as we were a little rowdy to say the least). Yet up until this point, out ratty trips have been spoiled by the weather. One time me and my dear friend Emma actually ventured to Keswick in the rain with wishful thinking on our side, hoping that once we got there the sky would clear and we would be left with sunshine. Needless to say, this wasn't the case. The ever growing hole in the bottom of my very loved but very battered Office boots gave me wet feet, and I subsequently felt like I had trench foot for the remainder of the day. How attractive.

At Leeds festival last year, I was given the greatest gift ever: a plastic rainhood. You see, my Topshop pac-a-mac failed protect me from Glastonbury's downpour (my hair was soaked as it clearly wasn't waterproof), and so I was incredibly grateful for the ingenuious hood so loved by grannies. Given that the weather was never torrential rain, my fur coat was enough to keep me warm and dry, and the hood served to protect my barnet. I got quite a lot of comments on it (it surprisingly went down a treat), and for a couple of months afterwards I hailed my rainhood as the lifesaver to any umbrella-lacking situation. Now however, I realise I have neglected it for quite a while. It will however make an appearance at next year's Glastonbury, as it is possibly the easiest solution to a quick shower there is. And at least it's waterproof!

                                          The much-loved rainhood. I'm such a pensioner at heart.

Luckily, it isn't raining today, meaning I will be able to go outside without having my backcombed barnet flattened by the messy little raindrops. However, after yesterday's puddle incident, I feel my need for the Vivienne Westwood wellingtons is definite. Please Santa, have mercy on my tootsies.

Holidays are coming.

Yesterday, I started to properly get into the festive spirit by watching Elf and Miracle on 34th Street back to back. Tucked up on my chesterfield sofa with my Cath Kidston throw and my gas fire on, it was my idea of Sunday afternoon heaven. The only thing lacking was my new Christmas pj's and mince pies. You see, I LOVE Christmas. It's my favourite time of the year. And ever since I saw the first viewing of the Coca Cola advert, my anticipation has been increasing by the day. And more than anything, I'm looking forward to buying my first proper Christmas tree and decking my house out in seasonal decorations. In my University houses, we all returned home for Christmas mid-December, and so having a Christmas tree seemed a bit pointless. So this year, I am embracing the decor, and cannot wait to buy my first real Christmas tree. And even though I will be returning to my motherland for Christmas day, the boy and I plan on having an early Christmas dinner together on the 23rd, complimented by my decorations and a Christmas film marathon. You see I have such a large family it simply wouldn't be Christmas without them and without the noise and laughter, and of course the Frank Sinatra finale we have to any family celebration, which consists of badly singing along and dancing whilst my dear grandmother sits in her chair, drunk on a bottle of Bailey's by this point, takes it all in around her.

For me, Christmas has always been a time for family, and I love buying gifts for everyone. I like to think I'm quite good at selecting presents (for my best friend's 21st birthday I bought her the Vogue from November '88, ergo the month and year of her birth. She loved it so much she cried!) I love watching people's faces as they open their gifts. Seeing my boy's face when he found out I'd bought him a Glastonbury ticket made my two and a half hour stint on the laptop trying to get them worthwhile... But presents aside, I just love the Christmas season. I love real Christmas trees and fairy lights, and some of my all time favourite films are Christmas ones. They always have such a feel-good vibe to them. It's A Wonderful Life is a beautiful film. And I heart Jingle All The Way, known to my family as Turboman. It's one of those films that is on every Christmas without fail, and it wouldn't feel like Christmas without a viewing of it. I bought it on dvd last year, just so I have a back up in case Sky fails me... I love the Boots three for two deal and I love wrapping Christmas presents. December wouldn't be the same without an advent calendar to count you down to Christmas, and every year the closer I get to the 20's, the more excited I get. I love Christmas cake and mince pies, and I love the traditional turkey roast with crackers and Christmas hats galore.

Christmas gives me that warm fuzzy feeling whenever I think about it. I always have a very nostalgic image of winter, wrapping up for the cold and buying winter coats and gloves and going ice skating and for jolly rambles in the countryside. I love the Christmas markets that come to town, where you can fill your belly with all sorts of cullinary delights and mulled wine. And I love snow. Well, not the snow of last year, which was mid-calf in depth and not enjoyable having to slog to the library in it every day in inappropriate footwear, however snow for a day or two is fun. Just the right amount to build a snowman and have a snowball fight is perfect.

The stress of last year's snow though has made me realise that those Vivienne Westwood for Melissa wellington boots I have coveted for a long time would surely be a very useful present. After all, at the minute I'm walking around in a pair of Topshop's leather ballet flats - not exactly ideal for the winter weather, given the fact that my feet are soaked every time the ground has a bit of water on. In the Westwood wellingtons, I wouldn't have to try and skirt around that massive puddle, as I could just splash on right through like I did in my patterned wellies and little pink mac when I was five. And they're so cute and delicate, they're not really like wellingtons at all. More little booties, with the fab gold buttons displaying the orb down the side. I'd like them for Christmas quite a lot...

And on that note, I'm off to make my Christmas list to send to Santa before I go for my first ice skate of the season. I cannot wait.

HellO GlastO

Oh my GOD.

I got my tickets.

I cannot describe the feeling of relief and sheer excitement having endured 2 and a half hours infront of my laptop with many tabs open, hoping and praying that I'd get through, when finally the booking form popped up on my screen and I quickly filled in my details and comprehended the exciting times that are to come.

Glasto is my favourite festival in the world. Being a serial festivaller, I am relatively well travelled with my wellies. I've been to Leeds, Benicassim on numerous occasions, Glastonbury and V festival in Canada, and although all of my experiences have been amazing, nothing compares to the hippie vibe that is Glasto. Leeds is mental and very twinky, Beni has the benefits of the sea, sun and sand, but the music often lacks in comparison to other line-up's and sleeping in a tent there is an experience, and the Canadians aren't the biggest fans of alcohol and so the designated drinking areas at V over there didn't go down too well with us Brits (I went with my dad, and he was appalled...). And where there is a downside to every other festival I have attended, there seems to be no downsides of Glastonbury; no limitations and nothing that I would ever change. Okay, well maybe the toilets could be a little better (Leeds has hand sanitiser and toilet roll, need I say more?). But genuinely, nothing can quash my excitement or the feelgood mood that one gets from just being at Glasto.

Last year, the route to Glasto was one that began in excitement, and ended in torture. Having travelled for 6 hours with four changes by rail, I felt elated when I finally got off the train at Castle Cary station. It was midday on the Wednesday, and the weather was beautiful. I could not wait to get there! However, this joy was short-lived, as I found myself standing in a queue with my rucksack on my back for approximately 8 hours. I arrived at Glastonbury exhausted and sporting a trapped nerve in my arm due to the weight of my rucksack, and I just wanted to sleep. The next morning however, none of that mattered. Glasto has that effect on people where you just cannot help but being so incredibly happy and genuinely overjoyed to be there.

And so you can imagine my excitement at the fact that I have my ticket for 2011. Needless to say, I am not travelling by train this year... I cannot wait to pack my Ray Bans, my straw boater and my wellies (well, I actually need to buy some more as I lost them after Leeds, however you get the picture). Other than food and alcohol, they're all I need. And my headscarves of course - 5 days worth of ellnette leaves my bouffant looking somewhat dishevelled...

I cannot wait to see the line-up; I cannot wait to see the acts and I cannot wait to be there. I got a cup of piss in my face after Prodigy in '09 and even that wasn't enough to kill my mood.

I'll leave you with a selection of my favourite photos from my Glastonbury adventure. The next one can't come soon enough...

Reunion.

I'm back. I'm kind of hoping my blog is going to welcome my return with open arms, but I've neglected it so much that I'm not entirely sure that's going to happen...

Still, I blame Virgin - I've only just gotten the internet in my new pad, and so haven't been able to access any important aspects of my life, like my blog and ebay... And trust me, the lack of ebay browsing has been HARD. Still, I've had a browse and already have my roving eye on a few cheeky items... Well it's pay day next week, so it's only right. The first on my hit list is an amazing tapestry weekend bag. I've been on the hunt for another one for what seems like a decade - I had a babe of a tapestry about 6 years ago, but the zip broke and I never got round to trying to get it fixed, and as much as it pained me, I had to part with it. So this addition to my granny-chic collection is greatly anticipated. I have not bought any new clothes in what seems like forever, given the fact I've had to live on a weeks wage for a month. Since the arrival of online civilisation however, I have trawled my favourite sites and know exactly what a small (but significant) sum of my wage is going on. First off, there's the leather mini from Urban Outfitters. October is a busy month for me, what with the boys birthday and a scheduled Leeds weekender trip planned to see the mighty Crystal Castles, so obviously I need some new clothes to wear... So the leather skirt will be an investment. Somewhere in the dark hole of my wardrobe at home, I have a vintage leather pencil skirt courtesy of my auntie from her rebellious youth, but as of yet my mother hasn't managed to find it, so I'll just have to buy the leather mini... Next on the list is the previously mentioned tapestry bag. Then there's the American Apparel sheer blouses - I have my eye on the mesh black one and a cream one, which will total around 100 dollar for the two but given the fact that there's a possibility they might be going out of business what with their mental director, I feel it's acceptable.

More importantly, this months wages will be going on my deposit for Glasto 2011. Already, I am so excited about it; especially seen as I had to cancel my ticket for this year due to severe lack of fundage... So to ensure my attendance next year, I am purchasing both my ticket and a ticket for the boy's birthday. How very crafty of me...

So that's the breakdown of Thursday's anticipated pay when I will finally be reunited with dollar, ommitting of course the boring details like rent for example. They are not worthy of words on my blog...

However, the blog and dollar isn't the most important reunion happening right now. I'm railing it down to Watford tonight to see my dearest Rach (the ginner babe in the photo), who fucked off to Columbia for 16 months and met the love of her life (which is obviously delightful), however I am greatly excited about her return to NCL for her last year of student loans and overdrafts. It also means I'll have someone to regularly drag out with me when I just want to dance. This reunion obviously calls for some hardcore drinking and dancing, and so as soon as I've stepped foot off the train we're getting our glad rags on and going out. But hold on. What does a girl like me wear to go out somewhere that is reknowned for being particularly chavvy?? I had this wardrobe crisis last night, and immediately discarded the prospect of wearing vintage sequins as I want to survive the night. I finally opted for a vintage black and silver top, which hopefully won't induce too many death threats... The slight wardrobe concern is more than worth it, given the fact that Rachie is my ultimate girls girl. For the whole of first year she was pretty much my boyfriend, always on hand with the Ben & Jerrys whenever it was necessary (and whenever it was not). And given the fact that I am now living with the boy and he doesn't quite understand my obsession with Ugly Betty and ANTM, inviting Rach round therefore enables me to assume full control of the telly, as it will be 2 vs 1 in the name of the brace-wearing babe.

Rach is also the friend that took me to Sheffield for my birthday last year to see Airborne Toxic Event, and when the gig was cancelled and the band was outside, she boldly declared to them that it was my birthday and that we'd travelled for 4 hours on a shitty Megabus (the girl has no shame), which resulted in my private serenading session in the doorway of Leadmill. It was glorious. AND they appreciated my sequins. And Noah Harmon is the second fittest bassist ever (after Jared), and I managed to cop a feel of him (unfortunately not his package) for a kodak moment, and simultaneously fell in love, even if he is a bit short.

So naturally I am massively excited at what sort of carnage will ensue. Expect many photos to follow...

Peace out x