iSPY

A few iPad pictures from the week…

I’ve been detoxing the fuck out of whatever I have left in my body. You can read about some of my juice cleanse adventures here. 

Yep, I have since learned a lot about just how fucking picky my body is – she has been complaining nonstop for the past six months so I guess it was due time I dialled in. I learned enough to know that I will be sipping from a lot more coconut shells in traffic as I did yesterday, that and that my stomach HATES overly milky stuff like my favourite chai lattes and um, umm ali (!!!). My gut also gets whiny in the face of gluten (basically, my detox coach for the week dared me to try eliminating pasta from my diet until the end of the month and see how much better I feel. Sadly, guess what…?). It’s been a fucking retarded eye-opener, that’s all I’ll say. More to come…

I bought a new bag (Aldo) and the praise hasn’t stopped yet but it’s about to become even more famous than me when it stars in my friend’s WIYB (What’s In Your Bag) project for some mag or other…Watch this space.

I took said bag on a date to the schmoozy British Polo Day at Ghantoot Racing and Polo Club. Very schmoozy – like sponsored by Hackett, Jaegre LeCoultre and Range Rover schmoozy. This is a picture of the pony of the match, the STUNNING Picasa, ridden by Oscar Colombres. I like polo. Tried to play it, failed. And I have major respect for anything I am unable to do.

Amouage was a sponsor at the polo too. Thanks for the Library Collection travel samples, dudes! A bit rich but I love libraries so I think we’ll hit it off eventually.

and my bedtime story of the week…(Who’s going to see GNR on Yas this weekend?? A work colleague promised me VIP passes and treatment for it and never delivered, the dick. At least I’ve seen them before…)

Fin.

Trying so fuckin hard to balance that work hard-play hard ratio but all I’ve been is all over the place, and mostly for work. Then I come home, do some cardio boxing and jumprope to Opeth while sipping on some fresh juice mixed with a “capful” of vodka, and then tuck in to some rock’n’roll literature before bed where I spend the night, until 8am that is (when the parking metre man begins his prowl) wondering why the hell I don’t own a guitar anymore and when exactly it was that work stresses started filtering into my dreams at night. Basically, when did I become so uncool?!

Women’s Health says I’m not doing it right, it’s done like this. Do you know, up until today I didn’t do ANY of that stuff? And it’s so fucking basic! Scary. Anyway, I have three consecutive days off in about 24 hours and I am terrified (because I’m not fun anymore), yet determined to see what I make of it. I’ve made a list of ways I can attempt to be fun…it’s come to that. Wish me luck.