Tuesday, 8 July 2008

Cough, cough

I wonder if Beijing will be hosting some or any of the endurance races this year at all. It's just been on the telly, that there were over 300 microcosms of pollution in the air on one of the days that the man from the BBC measured it. I think you can put the air into a jam-jar and bring it home with you, it is so thick.

No wonder we came home with chest infections last year, cough.

It did mean, though, that I gave up the fags at the beginning of this year, though. Yay.

Can you tell there's not a lot to write about today? (snigger) There isn't, actually. Except I got my hair cut today, except it makes me look like the middle-aged, grumpy woman that I apparently am, grr. And, I know I've left it late, but I went looking for a wedding outfit and could find nothing at all that a) fitted and b) I liked. Except a lovely green silk blouse that is perfect.

The other thing(s) that is perfect today is my bust! I finally cracked and had my bosom chest measured for a busten-holster, and what a difference! The fitter and I had a giggle on the way to the till as I nearly fell over a shelving display while looking down at myself! tea, hea.

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