All The Small Things…

True care truth brings…

Things I learnt yesterday:

I should run more, I do actually enjoy it once I stop bitching and moaning about doing it.

_

A good sports bra, or even two, really isn’t optional.

_

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. 

_

Seriously strong Epsom salt baths rock.

_

Amazon can be quite annoying when they deliver your goods without a box, just with an address label on the item. I don’t want my neighbours knowing I’ve ordered 10kg of said Epsom salts. They might think I’m constipated. 

_

I’m not constipated.

_

Life is too short not to do things you enjoy. 

_

I am utterly head over heels in love with floristry. Properly so. Was like a pig in shit on Sunday when I accidentally turned my dining room into a flower emporium. You can see the results here on insta should you be so inclined.

_

Having said abundance of flowers in the house isn’t as great as one might think when you have hay fever. Who knew. *rolls eyes* A small price to pay.

_

Amy didn’t push Ken in Corrie. I still think it’s that Sinead.You mark my words. 

_

Sugar free detoxes do work. Might be a bit draconian and dull, but you can’t argue with another 4.6lb down. That’s 11.6lb total in two weeks. Davina was right.

_

I think I might love Davina. Who doesn’t. 

_

 

Salad still sucks tho.

_

House rabbits like to eat trainers. Not great when you’ve a stack of races at the end of the month and no time (nor inclination) to try bedding in new ones.

__

Apple watches don’t sync with Strava. This is tres annoying. Everyone knows if it’s not on strava it didn’t happen. 

_

Running is good for you. Gin is better.

Word. 

J

P.S: Song of the day here. One of my very favourite songs to run to… What’s yours?

P.P.S: My girl crush actually spoke to me. Actual real words. Complimenting my floristy to boot. I swooned. 

P.P.P.S: My vintage Dartmouth pottery swans are still being held hostage by the post office. Three days and counting… grr.

P.P.P.P.S: Date Night.

***

Twitter: @myblondereality

Instagram: @myblondereality

The lady’s not for turning

Anyone watching CarShare? Peter Kay can crease me up like no other. Comedic genius.

Such a shame it isn’t returning. 

____

We are still however ploughing our way through The West Wing for the umpteenth time. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. By far the best thing to have been on television ever. Fact. 

Big Block of Cheese Day is simply the best day there is.

If you’ve not watched it, watch it. I promise you won’t regret it. Even Buzzfeed agrees…

____

As some of you may know, I was Deputy Chief of Staff for a national political party.

As such, despite appearances, I am a bit of a political nerd. #neverunderestimateablonde

I promise this site will not become too political though. You have my word on that.

But I have to say, despite the calling of this election being the finest piece of politics I’ve ever seen, the resulting GE campaign (on all sides) is a bit of a car crash.

Two words can illustrate that: Diane Abbott.

Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

Wouldn’t have happened in my day.

Never seen anything like it.

You could say it’s May Day for Corbyn. 

Anyway. Onwards. To the weekend… and a birthday party. Not mine.

J

P.S: Song of the day here

P.P.S: I don’t care who you vote for, just make sure you vote on June 8th.

P.P.P.S: Bartlett For America. #justsayin

P.P.P.P.S: Yes, that is me and some famous folk from a former life, in the photo above… and no, they’re not waxworks.

P.P.P.P.P.S: You can relax now, I’ve found a new hairdresser. I know how worried you’ve all been.

***

Twitter: @myblondereality

Instagram: @myblondereality

It Must Have Been Love…

But it’s over now…

I need a new hairdresser.

I hate it when that happens.

I treat hairdressers like a long term love.

Keep your friends close and your colourist closer*. 

A parting of the ways
(all puns intended)
is as hard as a break up.

But sometimes it has to happen.

It’s not you. It’s me.

Sigh.

P.S: Song of this day here

P.P.S: Bonus points for naming the film, which, incidentally, is my favourite. 

P.P.P.S: *and Yes, before Trading Standards come calling, I am a natural blonde. Just not quite this blonde.

***

Twitter: @myblondereality

Instagram: @myblondereality

Sugar Pie Honeybunch…

You know that I love you…

I can’t help myself…

I love you and nobody else…

10 days sugar free, done.

What? I hear you cry.

Am I a loonatic?

Quite possibly.

Why would anyone voluntarily give up sugar.

Well…

I don’t know.

Don’t ask me.

But I did.

And I didn’t really mean to. I didn’t set out that way.

A whole 10 days.

Yes.

TEN WHOLE BLOODY DAYS.

Perhaps I am a lunatic.

I’m not going to bounce around in Spandex saying it was easy and extolling the virtues of Madjool dates, because

a) it was not easy

b) a date is not a Dairy Milk

oh and C) I may have had one too many dirty little dreams about Nigel Slater drizzling me in Salted Caramel and force feeding me tiffin.  

Clearly my subconscious was a sugar addict too.

But alas, no more.

Hallelujah. 

It went marvelously well.

I really didn’t think that was going to happen.

By day three I would have happily licked sugar up off of the Tube floor. 

Relax though, I didn’t.

Once the craving had cracked and the hangry had passed, it became clear it was worth doing, I feel amazing, clear headed and lighter.

I also accidentally lost 7lb in the process.

Not going to argue with that, thank you very much.

My skin is glowing, my tastebuds reset and my collarbone is actually emerging from it’s winter flubber.

Just in time for wetsuit season.

Clearly I really was made of (too much) sugar and spice and all things nice.

Until next time…

J

P.S: Song of the day here

P.P.S: I defy you to listen to the song of the day today and not be up dancing along, copying those cool cat moves. I know I was. 

P.P.P.S: Now, where is that tiffin… 

***

Twitter: @myblondereality

Instagram: @myblondereality

It’s a new dawn, It’s a new day…

It’s a new life

For me

And I’m feeling good…

Hello.
I’m back.
Did you miss me.
Thought not.
Five years after starting MBR I’m back.
Not entirely sure why. Except to say I have a girl crush and she writes the most delicious blog I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

I have devoured her greedily. Read every word and marvelled at every glorious photograph.

She has single handedly shifted my writer’s block and well, the rest they say is history.
It’s amazing what you can knock up in an afternoon.
The blog that is. Not me.
*rolls eye*
I know that’s what you were thinking.

Like a slightly ageing, reformed girlband of one, I’m looking at this as a last hurrah of my digital age before I finally settle down to being a real grown up, you know, one who doesn’t waffle away into the internet and one who knows which bin goes out each week.

I do so, without hope or expectation that anyone shall actually read my ramblings, as that for me is part of the charm of the interweb.

Like standing in a forest and shouting into the wilderness.

And anyway, I’ve only paid up to squat here for the month… Slowly slowly catchy monkey and all that. I’m either being uncharacteristically cautious or perhaps just cheap.

Makes a change.

If any of you who kindly read my last site are still around, hello.

This time around MBR shall be very different.

A journal. A diary of sorts. A mind space. A place for me to prattle when a tweet won’t quite suffice.

Don’t expect reviews, or fancy smanchy recipes, this time it’s just me. Raw, uncut, unedited Jennie.

The thoughts of a now 30 something, no longer a 20 something.

Still a city worker, but now a country cottage dweller. Still married, still punching above my weight. Still occasionally fabulous, still painfully shy. Still loves London. Now have a bunny.

Refusing the country twin set and pearls, now punk.

Still no tattoo.

Still a Tory.

Still a shopaholic.

Still a workaholic.

Still blonde. Always blonde. Somethings will never change.

It is quite incredible though how by the changing of a single digit how much One can change. I certainly have since turning 30.

Now sporty! (I know, right, who saw that coming!)

No longer a fatty. (or that!)

Triathlete. (yep, I know, would have been less surprising for me to fly to the moon)

Travel a lot, but never enough. (sadly not to the moon…yet).

Fallen in love with flowers. All the flowers.

Crushing on Monty Don.

Crushing on Classic FM.

But still don’t like salad.

Runner.

Swims. A lot.

Stars.

Stilettos and silk pants.

Skiing.

Gin.

Vodka

Champs.

Still a boozehound, clearly.

Anyway, so here goes. Welcome back to My Blonde Reality, 2.0.

Hold on to your hats.
J

P.S: Song of this day here

***

Twitter: @myblondereality

Instagram: @myblondereality