Weekend Warrior

Well, I have been a lazy bunny all weekend, starting from Thursday evening 'cos I was bad and booked off Friday and Monday for a lovely leisurely four day weekend. *Hurrah!*

(Originally, there was a real reason for it, I was going to stay with Rocker's Granny for a long weekend, while his Aunt went to Florence, Italy - but she didn't go afterall, but anyway that's a whole other story...)

As reported I had the worst ever PMS on Thursday, it's a wonder I got home without getting into a street brawl. I was in no mood for anything. Rocker and I had a huge debate (not row, we each put across our valid points: the subject was testing on animals and animal protesters, again another story for another time) and then he went off to work and I decided to go up to bed at 7.40pm!

Fear not, though, I went upstairs and polished off four episodes of Sex and the City, count them FOUR , it was just the tonic.

If you would like to know, the episodes that got me through the rest of the evening without committing hari-kari were: The Domino Effect (Big has heart surgery and Carrie looks after him at the Four Seasons), One (Carrie meets Aleksandr Petrovsky at an art gallery, Charlotte gets pregnant, Miranda gets a giant cookie saying "I Love You"), Let There Be Light (Carrie takes a 'Lovah') and The Ick Factor (Miranda & Steve get married). Ah...

Friday I spent with Nanny Worthing as planned, we ate food and slagged off horrible bosses, women we know, women we don't know, the Government, nobody was safe. Veronica's (that's Rocker's Aunt and I think of her as mine too) hairdresser came round to do a perm and I decided to ask her advice on my own barnet.

She wasn't very supportive of the whole pink hair dream, which I was disappointed by, but I do have another two years before I have to start thinking seriously about the image change, so in that time I expect I can find a hairdresser who loves the idea! Anyway, Miss Hairdresser said I needed about four inches lopped off my hair! Er, no, don't think so. Two Inches max, I was thinking. I haven't had it done for like two years, and there is no way it is in that bad a condition. I'll give her two inches, but that is all.

She wants to hack some layers into it and take some of the weight out of it which I am up for because it's a nightmare most days, so heavy!

So on the 21st I get in the chair and get a new do!
Friday night the South Africans arrived, Rocker went off to work again, we had dinner and watched Taxi (the remake), which was suprisingly good. Then the next day we went off shopping in Brighton.

Brighton for the record is the place down south for shopping, if you ever pop to the UK (all you non-Brits) come take a look, the stores are brilliant and it is the premier place for people watching. Freaks everywhere! But in a good way...

We got in early to grab the good parking and went for coffee, then hit the shops. I got two cards for June & Schotz in Pussy (http://www.pussyhomeboutique.co.uk) - girls, real celebrities shop here - they've had Britney in and everything!

That evening we cooked and watched back to back episodes of X-Factor, which is flippin' brilliant as always. Sharon Osbourne's group of over 25's was a laugh - she said the first day of bootcamp looked like that bar in Starwars - and she was right - all those untalented freaks she let through because she felt sorry for them!

Well, I spend most of the evening shouting at the Tv and the South Africans because this year I hardly like anyone. Only little 16 year old Jackson 5-esque James has talent. I'm thinking of taking up Simon Cowell's mantel as Miss Nasty (not that they call him Miss Nasty, as he is a man, not a woman, but you get what I'm saying, no?). My catchphrase would be simple, no nonsense: "No. Bye" - as Miss Nasty I would not have time for sugar-coating the truth. Harsh but true.

Today we went to Worthing Pier so Bubble could take some pictures.

All in all a lovely nice weekend. And I get tomorrow off, how cool is that? No Brent first thing on a Monday morning to ruin my entire week. Yey!

So, how were all your weekends?