Long may it last.
I'm polishing my seminar for Monday and preparing for the viva on Tuesday, so obviously am procrastinating with photo edits on Ps.
Last weekend I attempted a Halloween cake, orange and black layers, though the black came out slightly blue-tinged. Just for funsies, and proof of concept.
We also had a cracker day in the middle of the week, so The Knitting One and I went out to the beach for ice cream. Beautiful.
High tide, no surfers. Pity.
My new necklaces arrived! If you know what they are I am sure you are seething with want - so get them here. So much love.
It was obviously a week for things arriving which had been brought ages and ages ago - my last-minute grad dress arrived, which is a hell of a relief - now I just need shoes. I'm thinking a trip to cheap NumberOne is in order - my one pair of (much loved) Chucks might not cut it for both the viva and grad...
My new handbag arrived too - brought it after submission on a sweet sweet sale, self-pressie styles.
Screw the subdued colours, I love this shit. It arrived in a ridiculous amount of packaging, and amongst The Great Old Handbag Clean Out, I found this:
So back when all my peeps still lived in Dunedin we did the Bog quiz every Monday night, and rocked that shit. Consistent winning = free food every week. Of course, all due to The Oxford One, Homeboy and The Boy Flatmate. Ooo and The Canadian One. And The Baby One. And The Authoress. Ok - so I was only the 'writer' of the group, I'm fine with that. Fun times. Missed. Love!
Where was I? ...Oh yeah - so, the edges of quiz booklets would get torn up into confetti and snuck into various coat pockets and so on (soooo not claiming responsibility for that habit...), turns out some got put into the unused side pocket of my bag. Future-proofed joke. The mess made me both nostalgic and sublimely happy.
Also found in the bag:
Another of the secret love notes from The Mini One. I wonder how many I have yet to find hidden in all my shit at work?!
And finally in this story of photos - last weekend I started reading my new part-author signed book (which I totally didn't have to bully him into doing...much):
Every piece so far blew my mind, and I'm not up to the Homeboy's article yet. I'm definitely making the parentals read this one.
And now - time to do some work. Gah.
My slightly bemused face. This will all be over soon. And I'll be a 26 year old Doctor-Homeowner. How did this happen?!