I Never Knew That About You

Everyone has thousands of things about them that people just don't know. That's what makes getting to know someone so much fun; it's the little things that are interesting. It's the boring stuff that makes someone interesting.

Little Known Fact Number 1:

One of my first words was wine. Which impressed my dad  and should possibly have given an insight into what was to come. Maybe that's something I should tell more people...it's not my fault, a love of wine is clearly innate

Little Known Fact Number 2:

I have never been kissed...outside Europe. Which isn't altogether that surprising when the fact that I've only been out of Europe three times is taken into consideration. It's still true though. 

Little Known Fact Number 3:

I love Mozart. His compositions have life, humour and sadness. Play Mozart and I will be happy. 

Little Known Fact Number 4:

If I am wearing wellies, I will jump in every puddle I see. Even in front of children who are getting told off for doing so. Especially then. Just to reaffirm in their little heads that it is  better to be grown up (sort of). 

Little Known Fact Number 5:

Goats and snakes feature in my favourite animal list. I was once offered a meat parcel by a little old Greek man in his shop in the middle of nowhere (well, Greece somewhere). He was so proud of these because his wife had made them. Sadly they were goat meat and as bad as I felt, I just couldn't eat a goat. Which is strange when I will happily eat/wear rabbit and other cute little animals. Like pigs. 


Little Known Fact Number 6:
I don't like admitting I have gone the wrong way and will certainly not turn around and walk the way I have just come from. To the extreme that I once got on the circle line to go two stops...in the wrong direction. Maybe I should have admitted my mistake, gotten off and jumped on a train in the opposite direction. I didn't. It took about 50 minutes. 


Little Known Fact Number 7: 
I have a fascination with curling up in small spaces, i.e under desks, in wardrobes, cupboards, tumble dryers. I am very claustrophobic when it comes to my head though. Cover my head or touch my neck and I can't be held responsible for my actions. 


There we are. 7 little things about me. Feel free to tell me something about you!

Sumtumn Style

It's that awkward time of year again; too cold for shorts yet still to warm for jumpers. Not quite autumnal but definitely past summer. It's that time of year where every morning poses as a complete and utter style crisis that always results in me having no idea what to wear. Let's set the scene. The sun is shining, so logically I reach for the mini and strappy top, an essential summer combination. Then the clouds decide to emerge. So away goes the skirt and scrap of cotton, out come the skinny jeans and more substantial-yet-definitely-not-a-wooly-jumper top.

Turns out the clouds were just passing. Along with rain that could nearly be defined as monsoon like. But once again the sun reigns supreme, evaporating all trace of water with its healing hot rays. Then the process repeats itself with more torrential rain. (When I was younger I was told that rain happened because God was crying. I used to wonder for hours what made Him so unhappy. But anyway...)

This indecisive weather makes getting dressed an absolute nightmare. Flip flops and a bikini would almost seem logical, if the rain weren't so darned chilly. And walking down the road in said apparel may attract all the wrong kinds of attention.
Designers seem to forget this awkward pause between seasons, deeming it perfectly acceptable to migrate swiftly from S/S to A/W, conveniently avoiding one of the trickiest sartorial four weeks in the calendar. Sumtumn.

As a consequence I am floundering.
Wellies and raincoat? Or shorts and flipflops?

Good Morning Owl

"Good Morning". The two words most likely to make me growl at you in a way no human should be able to. Year after year I have made it my New Year's resolution to get up early, but January 3rd after January 3rd I have failed. I assumed myself lazy and lacking in self discipline. Until today.

Whilst at work I was having a discussion with a couple of my colleagues about getting up in the mornings. One had already hoovered, changed the beds and eaten breakfast before coming into work that morning (this conversation took place at 9:10am). The other, like me, had struggled to poke so much as a toe out of the warm comfort of the duvet. What my fellow night owl told us, however, made my morning-guilt evaporate (nearly) completely. The ability to get up early is genetic.

It's in the DNA.

I get it from my parents...

IT'S NOT MY FAULT!

Keen to verify these facts (I didn't want to let myself off too lightly), I had a quick flick through Google. Indeed, that National Geographic confirmed that some thoughtful researchers in Japan had been plucking people to work out when their body clock gene is most active. Turns out that the late starters have an active gene just after they wake up at the late time they want to, and the larks' genes are mainly active when they wake up at the crack of dawn (a.k.a middle of the night). Which would explain why I feel like I am in a sleep dazed fog before 10AM.

To make the whole thing even more exciting and fantabulous, a fine lady named Dr. Ying-Hui Fu a specialist in micro biology and microchemistry has basically discovered that, summed up, people who naturally wake up early have mutated genes, thus are mutants. There may be slight use of hyperbole there, but you get the gist.
I'm just ecstatic there's nothing wrong with me.



Some interesting websites on the matter...
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2010/08/100823-sleep-genes-body-clock-science-health/
http://www.neugenes.org/ying-hui_fu.htm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/2996364.stm