The anniversary weekend. Roses and…

I was like a maniac on Friday. Charlie was working from home and I was buzzing about doing absolutely nothing productive. At one point I was just clicking between PDFs of the magazine, to my blogs, to twitter, to business advice lines and ‘how to make money quick’ ideas on some American website with a cheesy, grey haired man, beaming into (invading) my screen. I was also fixated with a cream jumper that I had lost, or had ‘stolen’ from me. It was the only thing I could wear. In addition, I wanted to clear out all the junk in our flat, making me claustrophobic and preventing the clear thoughts and organisational prowess I have never owned in my life. In double addition, Charlie was playing that Lena Del Rey song too much, for some reason I now can’t stand the song.

We were supposed to be going to London right then, but I was convinced the magazine demanded more obscure clicking into nothingness and that the cover was all wrong. I made a sandwich at lunch time and barely tasted it. A sure sign that I was in a crazy spell. Charlie sat on the bed and told me I was being vile. He then told me that you are/ I am a maker of your/my own happiness and I could either be a miserable cow, or go to London and see my friends. Take a break from the ‘m’ word and people watch with gusto. He also agreed that the cover was not right. This initially put me into further panic, then I realised it was good he was being honest. Disgruntingly.

We decided to drive to London. Although Charlie commutes everyday – in a car- I still worry that his island upbringing will make him fearful of motorways. Of course, I have taken back this ignorance and after five years of questions (Do you have cars at all? Is there only one school? Have you ever been on a train? Do you know what the tube/Topshop/Apple is? – culminating in saying possibly too loudly at the airport lounge ‘so do you know everyone here?’) I have now stopped. He is also much better at driving on the motorway than me. I tend to begin terrified, then sink into road rage and make believe conversations with Audi drivers.

For the first hour, I only talked about the magazine, money and work. I must have been the biggest bore. Then we cracked out some music – both from our past and the present. Luckily none of that Dena Lay or whatever her name is. By the time we were in London zooming through the lights of London, I was full of the joys and back on the love track with Charlie. Just getting away from the same, same, same, was like shining a great sun in my silly Apple filled circular thoughts. I once again fully loved the magazine too – though the cover still nagged.

At our friend’s house we ate meatballs and drank red wine. Then walked around Regents Park, looked at London from the top of London – saw St Paul’s lights go off, stood amongst lovers and went to a smart pub to drink ludicrously priced liquor. I say ludicrous, it’s only because we don’t go out for drinks in actual establishments much these days. Half price red at Sainsburys in our flat/someone else’s flat is top notch. That said, you can’t beat getting out and indulging in some people watching. And in bars, there is so much going on. Let alone those in Primrose Hill. I was sure I saw Sadie Frost. She lives there doesn’t she?

The next day we walked around, drank coffee, tried on outfits, ate food and then Charlie and I went out for a burger in Islington at Byron Burger – heaven. Then to sister in law’s 30s shindig before returning to Chalk Farm. Unfortunately (I was outraged) – not through alcohol/no idea what – I was hideously sick on the walk home. I had felt wrong all day, but then it was horrific. Charlie was amazing and rubbed my back (?) even though I told him ‘Not to frikkin look at me!’. That aside, in all it was an amazing day though and our anniversary day – FIVE YEARS – so good that it was spent together and classic us in many ways. What’s more, I had a magazine cover epiphany and now have my wonderful H working on something special for the cover. Now it all seems so obvious, clear and to be honest, it’s going to be SO much better now! Just you wait.

We got home pretty early on Sunday, I was banned from feeling sorry for myself over my sickness on the way home, but by the time we were back and I’d had some salt and vingear McCoys and a Wispa Gold, I was pretty much fixed. This was also followed by an EPIC dinner at our friend’s house and Frozen Planet. It was essentially the best medicinal weekend ever. Charlie was right, I just needed to get the hell out of my Apple merchandise and take a break from the magazine. Now I’m back to full on nauseating LOVE for the magazine and my Charlie boy. I don’t even care if you feel sick reading that, this is a rambling, honest post.

It’s all about the printers and party organisation this week. I figured, I need a party. I spent a week convinced the world was scamming me (as regards to everything in my life, from Sainsburys milk prices, to my stolen cream jumper) – watching videos on negotiation etc. Then decided to just attempt to get what I really want and try my awful bartering skills out. I have now eventually got what I am pleased with. Whatever happens, this magazine is coming out in a couple of weeks and I have to go about things in my own way, as this is what I’ve had to do from the start. Trying to emulate and comparing just don’t work, sugar. I am a lone business woman who is putting out a BRILLIANT magazine. A brilliant magazine.


2 thoughts on “The anniversary weekend. Roses and…

  1. Katy

    I love you Hels. DON’T FRICKIN’ LOOK AT ME! I love, love love you!!! Good to take a breather and come back enthused and keen! xxx


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