Hello

My boyfriend has left me.

Gone.

After seven years together, he has had the cheek to move to another country and leave me all alone.

I mean, he didn’t really have much say in the matter, but still – how dare he leave me all alone! How selfish of him to go and chase his dreams and leave me behind.

So, whilst he has skipped off to Switzerland for the next 18 months to work at CERN (Where Brian Cox, the cutie scientist who did those TV programmes works, dontcha know) to try and find some particles or something, I’ve found myself with a lot of extra time on my hands. 

He’s been gone for two months now, and there are only so many weekends that I can stay in bed and watch TV without the worry of eventually getting bed sores. So, after been persuaded by a few friends, I have decided to write a blog about the mostly boring, but sometimes exciting, things that I get up to (I can feel your excitement already!)

Last weekend, my gorgeous friend Mel had a stall at the Stratford Vintage Fair and so I went along with a couple of other friends to coo loudly over Mel’s goodies and persuade some strangers to buy some stuff. The fair was so much fun and there was some beautiful things for sale (obviously Mel’s stuffed owls and key rings were the highlight though!) I brought a little card to send to Matt in Switzerland and my friend Rachel B brought a few bits of jewellery.

Once the fair had ended, we decided to go across the river, where there was a little festival going on. After having a quick mooch of all the stalls (and watching Rachel being force fed an olive by an overzealous stall holder) we went and sat down to watch the band that had started to play. They were really good (not good enough that I’ve remembered their name though, whoops!) but it was the dancing that was going down in front of the stage that really stole the show.

Being a fully-fledged member of the big-boob crew, I know the importance of a good bra. You don’t want you boobs to be whacking you in the face every time you move. Apparently, bra’s are yet to be embraced by the fair women of Stratford, judging by the ample-bosomed ladies that were dancing on Sunday.  There were boobs everywhere! And not just sedentary boobs, hanging still. 


No no no, these ones had lives of their own and were moving as if independent from the bodies of the ladies who had failed to look after them appropriately. There was one “pair” that moved around in two separate circles, whilst the lady to whom they belonged jumped up and down. They were mesmerising to the point of being hypnotic and neither me nor my friends could concentrate on anything else (we’re not boob-perves or anything, but it’s hard not to stare when there’s a boob dance happening right in front of your face!)

So, the lesson that was learnt last week? Always keep your jugs under control.

Oh, and if you want to take a look at the adorable things Mel was selling at the vintage fair, click here.