Betsy Loves, Uncategorized, Writing

I’d like to thank my parents…

For the first time ever, I’ve just been nominated for a blog award – the sisterhood of the world blogging award. I gather that there are quite a few peer-nominated blogger awards floating around but it doesn’t make it any the less lovely to be nominated. I was nominated by Anez and the idea is, after thanking your nominee (thanks Anez!) and linking back to their website, you answer the ten questions they’ve asked you, then make up ten new questions of your own and nominate seven blogs. It seems like a great way to put the word out on the blogs you love and especially highlight some of the lesser known ones. So here goes:

1. How close do you keep the remote when watching TV?

Do you know what? I have no idea, unless it’s on the other side of the room and it’s bleeding annoying!

2. What’s the first thing you do when you come home after a long day?

Take all my jewellery off and tie my hair up.

3. What’s your favourite word?

I couldn’t pick one (or even think of one at the moment!). I can tell you that I dislike the word ‘moist’ a lot.

4. What job or career would be your worst nightmare?

A taxi driver because I have no sense of direction. Or something that meant I had to spend all day every day outside in the cold and the wet. Brrrrrrr.

5. What style quirk (hairdo, makeup item, silhouette) has stayed with you the longest?

I’m not sure it’s a quirk per se but super blonde hair and a black liquid eyeliner flick have been staples for at least a decade now. It’s also embarrassing how often I wear skinny jeans (i.e. every freaking day).

6. How addicted to social media are you, on a scale of 1 to 10?

Less than I was so I’m going with 6.

7. Have you ever fought with someone over the temperature in the room?

I don’t think so but I often sit in the same room as Mr T – him in a t-shirt, and me in a thick cardio, beanie and fluffy socks.

8. What website would you miss most if your internet was out for a week?

It depends – one week it would be Pinterest, one week it would be Garance Dore or Fashion Me Now’s blogs, the next it would be Topshop or Asos.

9. Would you rather live in the time of fifty years into the future, or fifty years into the past?

Damn, this is hard, the 60s seem pretty awesome (sartorially and politically) but I’d like to see the future, I think.

10. What’s your favourite memory of an experience of sisterhood?

I have so many inspiring sisterhood moments, but recently, when one of the loveliest friends rang me to tell me she was pregnant and I absolutely cried!

So now for my own nominees: Fashion Me Now, Garance Dore, EJ Style, Josefin Dahlberg, The Fashion Eaters, Peach Trees and Bumblebees, They All Hate Us

To be honest, a lot of these bloggers are huge already and they don’t need an award nomination by me. Still, they’re some of my favourite so here are my questions anyway:

  1. What’s your best piece of blogging advice?
  2. What’s your favourite way to chill out?
  3. What hotspots would you tell to a visitor to your city?
  4. What would be your superhero power?
  5. What would be on your Top 5 bucket list?
  6. What single item or object can you not do without?
  7. What would you recommend everyone try once in their lives?
  8. If you were anyone in a former life, who do you think you were?
  9. What does your dress sense say about you?
  10. What advice would you give to you 16-year-old self?

 

 

Advertisements
Standard
Uncategorized

2014 in review for Simply The Betsy

I’m actually really proud of this. If you click and have a read, you’ll see that special thanks have to go out to Momma P, Anezash, Queen Beady, Graham Read and Rose May Lily 2014 for being my biggest commenters. So thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.

It’s also telling me that you seem to like my beauty posts the most, so I’ll be bearing that in mind for 2015. Like I said earlier, I have a good feeling about this year. Woop!

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 7,900 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 7 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Standard
Uncategorized

Hi there!

Yes. I’m still here. A few unforeseen circumstances have popped up over the last few weeks, not least being hospitalised! However, I’m now back in the real world and hopefully my normal life won’t be far behind so, fingers crossed, there’ll be some decent, semi-interesting, posts coming up soon. Until then, byeeeeeee!

Standard
Uncategorized

You know you’re nearing 30 when…

The other day while I was hoovering the bedroom floor and shaking my head at the poor suction of our vacuum, I caught myself wondering if I could ask Momma P for a new one for Christmas. And that’s when it hit me. I’m approaching 30. Every single day I’m a little bit closer. And every single day I come across another new habit or preference that simply wouldn’t have existed five years ago.

  1. You consider asking for a new hoover for Christmas (as long as it can fit in the cupboard)*
  2. Fresh clean-smelling sheets are the best end to a Friday night (even if they are a bugger to change)
  3. You ask people to give you ‘three rings’ when they’re home (and you understand your mums’ all-encompassing concern for you in your youth)
  4. You’re building up a wish list of clothes from Next (and the Home department is rather lovely too)
  5. Mortgage rates will nearly always come up in conversation with your friends (‘well, rent is just throwing your money away, isn’t it?’)
  6. You chat about which of your friends are going to get married next, or how long your married friends will wait before having kids (in some cases, there may even be bets placed)
  7. Before buying any new clothes (probably from Next), you check their washing instructions
  8. You now schedule your holidays around aforementioned friends’ weddings (friends who teach are particularly annoying)
  9. Anti-ageing creams are an essential part of your skincare regime, not an extravagance (and you’ve definitely changed your views on cosmetic surgery)
  10. A new series of Marple or Poirot is serious cause for celebration (you’ll even watch them real time)
  11. Tweezers are no longer used solely for eyebrows (I’ll leave that one with you…)
  12. You suspect that, rather than ground you, your parents are actually looking forward to the pitter patter of tiny feet (hold your horses, Momma P)
  13. You suddenly realise that ten years ago wasn’t the 90s (no; seriously. It wasn’t. Sob)
  14. You feel a genuine sense of fulfilment when you reach the bottom of the laundry basket (and then want to kill someone *cough* Mr T *cough* when they sully it with a dirty shirt)
  15. Even your fun-loving siblings (that’s you, Brother James), don’t get sloshed every single night of the week
  16. Fashion trends are as cyclical as Momma P said they were (slip dresses and Docs again? Already?)
  17. You’re a bit excited by the new Strictly line-up (especially that hot rugby player)
  18. Your family tree is beginning to intrigue you (I mean, who do you think you are?)
  19. As well as your iPhone, you now have an actual physical diary (and a watch)
  20. You researched the candidates for the latest round of elections
  21. Friends come round for dinner (and bring courses), and you consider specifying a ‘white-colour only’ drink rule
  22. Lakeland and Ikea are bottomless money pits (and also serious time wasters)
  23. You’re now mentoring the graduates at work (the ones that you thought you still were)
  24. People ask you for character references (and ask for them to be printed on headed paper, with contact details)
  25. Who is where for Christmas becomes incredibly stressful (The Ps? The Ts? The PTs?)
  26. Reading the news depresses you because you actually understand most of it (and even when you don’t, you take the time to google ‘what’s the difference between ISIS and IS?’)
  27. You wish you had a Costco card (and shamelessly use Momma P’s in the meantime)
  28. You’ve realised that high heels simply aren’t worth the pain most of the time (and when you do wear them, you invest in heel grips, blister plasters and cushioning insoles, as well as having an emergency pair of flats in your handbag). Admittedly, probably only a ‘thing’ for the ladies
  29. You’re now over your outrage and moved on to resignation about the price of food
  30. If someone offered to send you back to age 16, you’d say no

*You would not believe the ‘fun’ I had finding an image of a vacuum cleaner. Lots of ‘sexy’ women in ‘bikinis’, or ‘businesswomen’, or, even, little girls with toy hoovers. Pffffft.

Standard
Uncategorized

Our neighbour, the fruit loop

People are weird. I’m weird. You’re weird. Mr T is weird.

Me? I colour code my books and clothes. And every now and then I have the mother of all cleaning frenzies. Mr T loathes mashed potato and baked beans. You? I’m not sure but you know you’re a weirdo too.

We all have our little quirks and habits, and that’s fine. Sometimes they have a negligible impact, sometimes they make you want to gouge the culprit’s eyes out with a melon baller and others are downright endearing. But what’s endearing to one will infuriate another.

Mostly though, we can tolerate each other. However, when you come into frequent and close contact with someone, that’s when things start to go awry. No. This isn’t a rant about Mr T. Mr T is adorable.

Hell, this isn’t even a rant about our upstairs’ neighbour, because, you know, unless you can afford a gloriously detached house in the middle of nowhere, neighbours are a fact of life.

Over the last few years I’ve experienced my fair share of neighbours – the ones who complain to your landlord for parking an extra car, ones who let their baths overflow through your ceiling – but we’ve never had neighbours from hell; this latest batch are undeniably weird though.

First up, and most important to note, is their flat clearly has a wooden floor. Secondly they’re obviously not aware of how this magnifies their movements.

I’m guessing someone suffers from insomnia as we can hear a rowing machine (we’re guessing) going at all hours, as well as a blender, some sort of interval training sprints, and general high heels. If we were that bothered, we’d mention it but meh, whatevs.

Yesterday though, they qualified for full weirdo status. I was working from home. My doorbell rang. It was a UPS guy with a parcel with the flat above. Could I take it in as they weren’t answering their bell? Yeah, of course; no problem, except, I could hear someone pottering around upstairs. Anyway, I got on with my work (yes, really), and then when I was ready to walk into town, I thought, since I could still hear someone upstairs I’d pop up and drop the parcel off.

So off I went, upstairs, and knocked on the door. I could hear noises from within, but no one came to answer the door. Perhaps they hadn’t heard me? So I knocked again. This time I could hear someone right behind the door, breathing.

Now, I suppose I could have just plonked the parcel down and washed my hands of it, but I was intrigued. So I knocked again. Loudly and for a while. Still no answer, but still the breathing behind the door. Creepy!

Then I shouted, ‘Hi! It’s Betsy, from the flat below. I have a parcel for you.’

There was a noticeable pause, and then, from right behind the door came a woman’s voice, ‘Oh. Sorry, I’ve just got out of the shower. Can you just leave it there?’

Yeah; sure. Just got out of the shower and been standing dripping wet and naked behind your front door while you breath heavily at me. Standard. So I put the parcel down, and off I toddled, firm in my opinion that yes, our neighbours are fruit loops.

(Oh, and if you’re reading this, Upstairs Neighbour of Mine, I’m sure you’re lovely really, and perfectly nice and normal, and please don’t egg my car.)

 

Standard
Uncategorized

What the f***, Andy?

An article in The Guardian caught my eye this morning; a very un-Guardian-like article. Apparently, during his Wimbledon defeat against Dimitrov yesterday, Andy was heard to mutter several expletives.

During the second set, he shouted, “Shut the f*** up!” And towards the end of the match, he said, “Five minutes before the f***ing match!”

Both of these intrigue me. Deeply. And darkly. And they also intrigue The Guardian, who, in an almost Daily Mail-esque moment comment slyly, “It was not immediately clear if this was a reference to some disagreement he had with his new coach, Amélie Mauresmo, or his team – or something else entirely.” Du du duuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!

Something else entirely, eh? What happened? Go on, Andy. Tell us. Spill forth in your usual jocular loquacious manner and tell us what happened five minutes before the match.

Did Kim dump you? Boooooooring.

Did she decide to wear the pink dress and accessorise with a white bag and strappy sandals, instead of the diamante jumpsuit you’d laid out for her?

Or perhaps, you were anally probed by aliens in a last ditch attempt to see if you were really human?

Ooooh. Ooooh. I know. They only had Robinson’s Fruit and Barley squash in the locker room, and not your favourite Summer Fruits? I’m right, aren’t I? That would tick me off too, Andy. Mr T always drinks the Summer Fruits first, even though he knows I don’t like the Orange and Pineapple one as much. It’s a hard burden to shoulder. I feel you.

Did you discover that white is not the new black, as you were led to believe, and were suddenly overcome with shame at your fashion faux pas?

Did a rabid baboon throw its faeces at you while dancing an Irish jig dressed in your lucky pants?

WHAT HAPPENED, ANDY???!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Oh, and also, who were you telling to “shut the f*** up?” The fairies in your head? Was Kim communicating telepathically again? Can you talk to ghosts? Don’t tell me it’s something boring like you were talking to yourself; don’t do that to me, Andy.)

 

Standard