Finally getting organised

Okies, I've tidied up my linkydinks, so all should be operational.

Erin, of Spider to Fly fame, I tried to fix your link, but when I tried to get to your newest blog, I got a Wordpress login - is that right?

I've also bought a few shoe organisers - enough to fit thirty-six pairs, so I'll need to cull the herd, but it will be cathartic. It's ridiculous how many pairs of black shoes I have - but I know there'll be more!

I've also spread my efficiency system to the ensuite, which is where I apply the warpaint for the day (the natural light is better in there than in the bathroom). I used to have a huge basket full of hairbrushes and makeup sponges and those random gifts you get for spending over a certain amount at the makeup counter (which never suit my colouring). I'd haul it out every morning - if I'd even managed to put it away the night before - and I'd have to dig through to find the things I want for the day. A real routine killer.
Now I have a teensy little tray with compartments - and the rule is that I have to use the items every day for them to be included. It has cut my preparation time by at least half! And I actually put it away afterwards, so the ensuite looks great!

I've also bought a big 1.5 litre water bottle, because it's so easy to get lazy with water at work, and tic tacs to help with sweet toothedness.

Now I just have to tackle the spice shelf, the craft closet, and find a magic device which will make our bed every day...

Enjoy the champers, daaahlinks

That's what Spanish models will be doing, now that there has been a ban placed on underweight models at Madrid's fashion week, according to The Age.

And honestly, that is something to toast - a government making a decision which may open the gates for all countries to ensure the images projected as 'beautiful' are attainable by the everyday, healthy girl.

I'm not desperate to see overweight girls striding up and down the catwalk - I don't really think that my current size is something to aspire to, but being able to see models who have a healthy BMI, neither over or underweight, would do wonders for the self esteem of all women, at all sizes.

Marvellous

My right indicator is now sitting on the passenger seat of my car.

Reversing out of the garage, I got all distracted by glowering at the neighbour's porch light, which they insist upon turning on at 9:30 each evening, only to turn off at 4 am - it illuminates our bedroom to Vegas proprtions, causing me to have to wear an eye mask to sleep.

So I turned a little earlier than usual, and scraped the front of the car along the rendered concrete pillar of the garage. The paintwork on the house is a bit damaged, but judging by the gaping hole and serious claw marks on the Excel, the garage won the argument.

How fortudinous that my car is scheduled for a service tomorrow, at which time the mechanic can shake his head at me, and justifiably remark disparagingly about women drivers.

Springalingadingdong

Yay spring. Love it. Delighted!

What I'm not delighted by though is the fact that many men, when liaising with me at work on the phone, become a little bedazzled by my speaking voice.

People whom have had the dubious honour of hearing my voice (a nasal whine, which is either singsong when I'm playing cute, deadpan when I'm comfortable, and always staccatoed by my desperate need to use big words and correct pronunciation - all really no good), would probably be surprised by this.

However, there are several guys who have asked me out just because of my voice. The last one found it 'intriguing', and several have called back many times to ask the stupidest questions, all under the guise of collecting some material to 'enjoy' themselves with.

I'm no prude, and I have a bit of fun with it, and can certainly use it to my advantage. Problem is, the nature of my work means that I know that they have wives, children, etc., and I can't help but feel sorry for those poor women.
What state is their relationship in that the man is trying to get dates with a girl, sight unseen? I don't like being a party to it, it makes me feel dirty.

And that wrecks the springtime feeling!