More and more Phil and I have spoken about starting our own business when we move back to New Zealand. We’ve thrown about a few ideas, but there is one that has really stuck (sorry I can’t reveal it yet). We are seeing a lot of our friends in NZ and Australia setting up their own business ventures and getting out of the rat race, doing things their way. We’ve got a name, the start up capital and the idea. I’m already so excited about this that I search for locations and places we could rent to kick start this adventure.Read More
Sex post coming up, look away now if it’s not your cup of tea. Mum, if you read my blog, don’t click below.
You’ve been warned.Read More
*maybe, or potentially in the next eight to 10 years, when Phil *ahem* asks me. Let me explain…Read More
Flat pack furniture has long been considered DIY hell. It’s a seriously good relationship test. Phil and I decided it was a splendid idea to test ourselves with such a feat…
We popped by Argos and picked ourselves up two white bookshelves and a white coat/hat stand for our hallway. One (and possibly the only) downside of moving into our own place was the reduction in wardrobe space. As in, we now have to SHARE. Tantrums were had, clothes were thrown, Read More
…and there’s been far more nudity than predicted. I think it’s purely that we can walk around naked, that WE DO. Phil will walk out of the shower each morning and give his bits a shake in my direction. It’s become a morning greeting. I enjoy it.
I’m a planner. I fucking love it. I blame my job. I draw up spreadsheets of costs, days, nights being stayed, and what we will see and do. The lot. I love being organised. I love lists. Scraping your pen across something you’ve just completed is a huge accomplishment in my world. Even if the item stated “drink water”. Small wins.
In the last few days I have felt like Leo aboard that giant steamer – full of spunk and excitement. This is the gym’s fault. I know Phil is probably sick of listening when I tell him about every minute and every stretch of my workout and how my muscles are aching and how good I feel. One thing he’s not sick of; our sex life. HELLO! That has definitely stepped up a notch since I got all energised and loving of exercise. I feel like I’m 20-odd again and full of vitality! Why didn’t I do this sooner?Read More
Last night tucked up in bed, Phil tells me he’s been looking at tickets for the Royal Marines Band performing at the Royal Albert Hall and that we should go AGAIN. He loves these guys – the drummers. No idea what his fascination with them is – but they’re his thing. We’ve been twice, that’s enough for me – they’re no Adele.
Then he insulted my nether regions…
While reading a book of Maria Semple’s (who is fast becoming my favourite author. Ever.) she brought up the phenomenon of the Helpless Traveller. I love this. Because it’s me all over. The concept of the Helpless Traveller is when you are travelling with someone who is confident, organised and decisive, they are competent, while you, flounder at every turn. Helpless and complaining of sore feet, having no input to decision making and being as melodramatic as possible. “Just feed me, I’m starving and my stomach is starting to absorb my other organs from hunger.”
This Sunday, for the first time since the man and I got together properly (after the first two times) in January, was the first day I felt like I needed space. When I say “space” I don’t mean anything drastic. I mean a day to myself for some R&R. Not to have to answer questions or direct him in his daily events or attend to his puppy nature. Just to sit on the sofa and watch some trashy telly or soak in a tub overfilling with bubbles. We’d just come back from Prague so I was tired and just not in the mood. I know most people have moments like this in their relationships but it was significant for me as it was the first time with him. Ever.
We’ve lived together for three years prior to us dating this last year. It is one of those 21st century relationships that started with a bit of flirting and an alcohol infused one night stand. Don’t judge, he was only up the stairs! Anyway, we absolutely ballsed up the first two times, but this time is different. It’s real and we’re both 120% committed. I never question that.
He knew I wasn’t in to it on Sunday, he can read my mood a mile off. He knows that if he gives me a cookie to shove in my face I’ll be a happy girl once again. This was proven once again by my sudden mood improvement while scoffing down a Christmas mince pie. Sometimes a gal just needs some sugar and carbs. Don’t question it, just provide, guys.
Bottomline, I adore him. But sometimes I need to pull myself out of the “us” and be the “me”.
The man: I don’t know why I don’t just use his name, most of you know who he is anyway, let’s just call him “P” from now on, he’s shy. So P and I have decided it’s time we upgrade our clunky, archaic laptops (I’ve had mine since I was 24!) for a brand new shiny one. I’m a Mac lover, him PC. That is, until I gave him my hand-me-down iPhone 4s when I upgraded to an iPhone 5s. Now he won’t shut up about it. Thanks to this lovely gesture I bestowed on him he is now fully on board with the idea of an Apple laptop – specifically a MacBook Air. Now, I have always had my own laptop, but we have discussed that perhaps we don’t need to buy one each, and could share. This makes me anxious. Not because I’m planning to stream porn and not tell him about it and forget to clear my history or because he’s going to see anything I don’t want him to. He knows and sees everything, or I’d just use the incognito tab – that’s what it’s for, right? It’s just the principle. And the fact I’m greedy and like all my own things and would prefer not to share. But he’s 150% rational about money and buying expensive, pretty things. So the fact I have an iPhone, iPad and Kindle is apparently enough technology and I do not need my own laptop. I mean, he’s right. It’s just probably the most expensive item we have ever bought TOGETHER. Commitment, y’all. If anything should happen to this relationship, I’m going to turn all six year old Bronnie and write my name all over that MacBook with a permanent marker.
We thought we’d take the opportunity for a good price brought on by Black Friday this week, especially as Apple have announced they too (for the first time EVER) will include their products in a sale. We’ve eyed up a couple of deals already on other sites for our extravagant purchase, but are hoping that Apple will pull out all the stops at the last minute.
Now it’s just a waiting game, I’ll be ready at my desk at work tomorrow morning geared to purchase. I haven’t told P yet, but because we’re only buying one MacBook that leaves money to buy myself a Nespresso machine. I say myself, because he doesn’t drink coffee. I think that’s a fair deal seeing as we have such huge saving from sharing a laptop. Perhaps I could tell him the Nespresso came free with the laptop? Sounds legit to me.