It is impossible to be glum when there’s a panda on your head..

Today has been, for lack of a better word, interesting. Apparently I was clearly very stupid in thinking that popping to Boots and the post office would be a simple, non-strenuous, menial task. So bloody wrong.

First off, I would like to point out that today is freezing. Like, stupidly cold. A hat was necessary. Not that that was a problem for me, although it took a good 20-odd minutes before I decided on one. An occupational hazard when in possession of so many beautiful hats.

Anyway, the post office. Which is actually a little bit closer than originally thought, a good thing? Maybe. I’ve never met someone so unhelpful and able to make you feel so very stupid. I mean, yeah, okay so there was a panda on my head. But does that mean you can look down your nose at me? Nuh-uh.

So after that delightful start, I entered the land of hell (aka the town centre on the first day of half term). Oh god, people. *So many people*. Now I don’t know about you, but I have a slight issue with slow walkers. Okay, maybe a slighty large issue. In that, they make me want to punch them in the back of the head. You have no idea just how much will power and restraint I own. Seriously..

Then Boots happened. Overcrowded, over-heated Boots. Okay, now I’m a big fan of autumn. I so prefer it to the muggy summer months, but why is it that it suddenly means all these shops wack their heating up?! I mean, really? I was in 4 layers, a panda hat, multiple pairs of socks and big boots. Just walking through the shop was like a bloody work-out. So exhausting. And sweat inducing. Ugh. Why can’t they just give staff a nice christmas jumper or something? They’d save a bucket load on electricity bills n’ all.. Anyway, having finally made it to the checkout, the tills decided to “play up”. Apparently, in Boots staff language that actually means “crash-and-fuck-up-your-card-but-we’re-just-not-going-to-tell-you-that”. Buggers.

Needless to say the next three cash points I visited were on the receiving end of some pretty harsh language. I apologise. I take my anger out on far too many inanimate objects, and it just isn’t cool..

Now all I can say, is one mighty large thank you to whoever decided to place a bank just 30 seconds walk from my front door. You are a beautiful person. I kid you not. Of course, when I actually got in there, just snuck in before they had a chance to lock me out, we had the whole IT’S TOO HOT issue again. Add to this the fact that I hadn’t yet eaten, and was slightly panicky about why the usually lovely hole-in-the-wall wasn’t giving me my hard-earned (Ahem, student loan) cash, and yeah, passing out almost happened. I’m just such a cool, calm and collected person. Really.

So having ordered a new bank card, which “Could take up to ten working days”, and swearing at numerous metal boxes on the wall, I came home to make probably the most feeble attempt at cous cous. Ever.

Oh, before all this happened I had an actually pretty loud chat with the sweet shop man about why he should give me the huge, purple, cut out squid that used to be in his window display. In front of an entire shop of customers. Only to find out that he was just looking after the shop for the day. Oh life..

Ps. This is the panda that was residing on my head.

Pretty awesome, huh.

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Just in case you’re a fan of more than mediocre caffeine..

It’s official. Caffeine addict status can be liberally applied without a scowl or cutting remark in sight. I have a scale and everything.. It’s kind of along the basis of 1-10, but it starts at Greggs (the typical cheap, easy and nasty) and ends at Starbucks (the epitome of a good vanilla latte). Costa’s is too bitter, whilst Millie’s Cookies isn’t strong enough. And the teensy little independent places have potential. Always a pleasant change from the mainstream ‘coffee-beans-R-us’ type places, but occasionally you’ll be served by the one person on that street who just can’t tell a good mug of coffee from next week. That’s always mildly disappointing. And that’s another thing, coffee should definitely be in a mug, unless you’re a take-out fan. Which actually I am, but that’s not the point.. Yesterday I was served a latte in a glass. Not even one of those ridiculous ones with the tiny little handle that actually it’s impossible to even fit your little finger through. An actual glass. That was odd. And near impossible to hold, let’s be honest..

Maybe I’m just a fan of mugs. Okay, stupid suggestion, I am definitely a fan of mugs. Not tacky, gimicky ones, I’m more than a little bit fussy about things like that, but still, I have 5 at uni, and maybe another 10 at home? The favourites are definitely the classic collection ‘marmite’ one and the ‘I need my fucking caffeine’ one. Okay, they sound gimicky. They’re not.

Next year, our house is just going to be a house of mugs. I can tell. These people appreciate kitchenware as much as I do. Which is excellent of course. The FHMs are wonderful people. We spent an afternoon making chocolate rice krispie cakes on Wednesday. Just because we could.. This is clearly an essential quality in any future housemate. Deffo.

This week has, in short, been wonderful. I’ve had that elated ‘I’m-going-home’ feeling in between my rib cages somewhere, which has been a pleasant change from the ‘oh-god-I-feel-rough’ feeling I’ve had for a while. Plus, got essays back and discovered I’m actually not failing – a very welcome revelation, rescued a rubber duck – he’s called Bertie and he’s currently looking after my room for the weekend, wore numerous hats and went out feeling very Audrey Hepburn inspired. An excellent week I’m sure you’ll agree.. The only thing that’ll make this better is seeing the Mother and ruffling the brother’s hair.

Yay for the weekend!!

On a slightly more positive note..

..I’ve just realised that the only hats I’ve posted so far have all been grey.

Now, as I said to ‘posh-boy housemate’ the other day, in defence of myself I must add, “I’m not bland! I just like grey..” To be fair I was wearing all grey at the time.. right down to my knee length charcoal socks (: Very scrummy. Very warm. (Very thankful to the mother for that investment..)

So.. Let’s inject a little bit of colour onto this wonderfully lacking in sunshine page..

Yes, I look a little bit like an elf.

University is a big scary place..

..And I’m not even there yet.

But just the preparations for it are giving me the butterflies. And when you have a serious phobia of butterflies like I do, let me tell you, it’s not too great. Yes I am aware that a butterfly phobia is odd, I have been told. Numerous times. I wonder what you’d call it?? Butterphobic? Flutterbyphobic?? Butterflobic?!?!

Anyway back to Uni.. I swear I’m too young to be leaving home. I mean who in their right mind would actually let me in charge of  house?! It’s ridiculous. Really. And obviously the thought of not knowing anyone is slowly eating away at my more than adequate stomach. Which is really quite annoying because actually I’ve found that it’s quite useful to have a stomach. Even if there is more of it than I’d like, so maybe actually nerves eating away at it isn’t *such* a bad thing, because then it might shrink in size? And the fact that ‘best-friend’ is Little Miss Organised 2009 really doesn’t help. Not when she was packed and ready over a week ago. Term doesn’t start till the *end* of September!! Really, having miss-perfect as your ‘best-friend’ does wonders for the self-esteem. And you can quote me on that.

But this whole thing with Uni, is knowing what exactly to take. I mean, obviously I don’t really want to cart my entire life down in boxes only to get there and discover that actually there’s been some serious mix-up and I’ve been assigned to live in the broom cupboard like a modern day Harry Potter. (And yes I am aware that Harry Potter is modern day, but it just seemed an appropriate thing to say) And then I would have the whole crap what do I actually need to keep and what can the ‘rents take back in our now huge looking car. So really it makes better sense to limit what I take in the first place, but that again brings me back to this ‘what-do-I-take-with-me’ malarkey. *And* on top of that I then have to work from two lists of things I really really want to take, and things that actually I really need to take, because I’m pretty sure that 37 hats and the latest Prison Break box set don’t feature too highly on that list. Which kind of sucks because that’s pretty much what my life revolves around at the moment (and yes another hat photo will be following).

But then on top of that whole not actually knowing what to pack of my own things.. There’s then the added issue of what to invest in. I mean how ironic would it be if the other 5 people I’m going to be living with all also turn up with a kettle each, but between the 6 of us there is no toaster?! I mean really, there should be a handbook for this sort of thing. Having said that there probably is a handbook, I’m just too skint at the moment (I’m getting used to student life already) to be able to afford one.

Huh, so while I go and contemplate the meaning of life. With some kettles and toasters thrown in. Here’s another hat pic for you to chew on. Although not literally please, cause saliva would really wreck an awesome hat. And possibly your computer.

Russian Hat

Me. In Russian hat. Pulling frequently seen funny face.

“I have more hats than common sense..”

If you know me, you’ll recognise this as one of my very many, very *wonderful*, catch-phrases. It’s also, unfortunately, very true. If you don’t know me, then you’ll no doubt have picked up by the end of this babble that I have a slight hat obsession. I mean minor. Really. No-one would ever notice. Unless of course they happened to walk past my door right this minute and spy all 37 of them strewn across the floor.

Yes. I have thirty-seven hats. And yes. No doubt the collection will grow even more mammoth-like in the next couple of months. (I’m moving to Uni for crying out loud. My life will be crying out for more hats.) And yes. Unfortunately it is true that where I have hats, I appear to be lacking in common sense.

This is clearly the main reason why only a couple of hours ago I was having an in-depth conversation with a block of cheese. I say in-depth. That would imply the cheese spoke back. In actual fact I gave said block of cheese a good ‘telling-off’ whilst my boss attempted not to collapse in a fit of giggles. He didn’t succeed. It should possibly worry me that it has got to the stage where my boss can watch me talk to food and not threaten to call the men in white coats..

Anyway, back to the hats. I might possibly have a slight fascination with them. Beanies, fedoras, Russian, berets, straw hats, flat caps, wedding hats.. I can’t help it. It’s just one of those things.

So I decided to have a ‘hat shoot’, in which I would model each of my 37 hats (I use the term ‘model’ in the lightest possible way of course..), and post one pic a day. Of course as I carry on I may end up with more than 37 hats. But then that could just be me and my wishful thinking.. Ha.

This is me in one of my many, many, many hats..

Grey, over-sized beanie

Look, when I stand like this I have no arms..