All started on Thursday evening - went to the hairdresser. Don't you just like it when you are going to pay £xxx (ie - far too much) and the hairdresser actually tells you what colour you should have, and which one (s) you should not. So my suggestion that I would like some red (ish) highlights was met with a no - blond is THE colour.
So Lovely-Hairdresser-From-Hell (but specialised in colour) turns me into Pamela Anderson (shame - without the adds on, said Lovely Cheezy Hubby), while she's getting me drunk.
"Given the price you paid, they could have added caviar and a few adds-on (stupid ref to Pamela...)"
Thanks Darling, why don't you just go and pack your suitcase. That will be slightly more helpful. (hint)
Mind you - Lovely Hairdresser from Hell is not as bad as one of my friend's who decided that on the day she had an appointment, 'no, I won't cut your hair today, it's not right'. (voice over - Julian Clary- location: push Surrey town). So she left the hairdresser, without a haircut but a new bottle of shampoo costing her £100. A big one she said (at that price, I buy a few big bottles...)
Anyway - next day, off to Rome, mid afternoon.
So turned up at Gatwick early (you never know, the plane could decide to take off early, before deciding to be highjacked, and then deciding to run out of fuel, and then to explode above the mountains, and then deciding to re-materialise before landing safely - thank God). You get a picture of the state of mind
Had lunch at the SeaFood bar (no room at any other inn - what a good excuse!! to spend a few more £££, I know). Brilliant waiter - a bit like 'the Godfather': same accent, a good 40 years younger. Anyway - was Sicilian. That explains about the Godfather. Sat down next to Sharon Stone (Ok - look a like, but blimey, she looked good for her age). She was off to Palma.
Then off on the plane (decided not to do any of the above: ie, was on time, did not get highjacked or anything, which was a bonus). What a laugh when we got on the plane - Julian Clary was the pilot, his brother the copilot and his cousin the stewart. I swear, nothing to do with the few glasses from the Seafood bar, nor the G&Ts on the plane (after all the trip was to celebrate Cheezy-Lovely-Hubby's new decade. And no, he is not 30, whatever he thinks).
A split second before we are ordered to switch off phones otherwise the radars of the plane will go wrong and we will end up in Vladivostok or crash on the Himalaya, the phone rings. Super-Friend-From-Manchester-But-Who-Lives-Down-South (now she knows who she is!!!) on the phone: Other-Half -to-be finally proposed!!!! brilliant, made my week end. I expect in a few years time she will be writing a 'working mum blog, inlcudijng outlaws and inlaws, Lovely-Cop-Hubby and so on', which I'll enjoy reading while I would have moved on to 'a-guide-on-how-to-live-with-teenagers'.
Won't bore you with all the details about Rome, but in a nutshell: Brilliant time - Vatican City (did not see the Pope, apparently he was busy praying for all of us, bless him, as long as he prays for the right things). Plus his special audiences are on Wednesdays (says the tourist guide. With another 5,000 people. Cool).
Anyway - saw the best ever paintings, statues and everything. Probably enough money there to solve the current crisis. But what do I know.
Anyway (2) - all I'd say is that by the end of the week end, I looked like a pizza-stuffed-Pamela-Anderson (blond as ever, so now working on the Essex accent, and if you imagine a pile of pizzas the size of Big Ben - well - that's what I ate the whole week end...)
Anyway (3) went to the best restaurant ever, with Marcello Mastroiani as the waiter. Showed us proudly the pictures from his 2 kids - Omar (after Omar Sharif) and Rachida (did not say from who). Told us we were his best friends, and he was from Egypt. I told him I was Sophia Loren and Cheezy-Lovely-Hubby was Pierce Brosnan. Isn't he???
So - now back home. Pierce Brosnan watching TV, and me, well, trying to shorten the ever increasing list of things to do before the girls come back on Saturday... from photos (for the last 2 years) to put in album (where the hell are they??) to organise summer holiday... so that will be another blog!!!
As for recipes... I know one I don't want to share: Strawberry Meringue Roulade. Not helped by the fact that I replaced the strawberries with orange curd (why not?) and started baking at 10.00pm. not a good idea. And Nigella was busy (cow). So went onto plan C - Waitrose.
Over to the next time!
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