Things I'm excited about on a Sunday evening...

Nothing. Goodnight.

Only kidding!

• Having my Christmas tree up! Although does it weird anyone else out that you have a garishly decorated tree in their living room? Feels kind of grotesque, but the kind that I like too much to stop...
• The tin of miniature heroes under aforementioned Christmas tree
• X-Factor final - come on Miss. Amelia Lily (it's a quiet week for me ok?)

Errrrr...

This was a pointless exercise. It's Sunday and I'm hungover, who am I kidding?

On another note, there are too many things that I like from this photo taken last Wednesday, yes it was a school night... (I need to buy a new dress I think, I wear this one a LOT) I'm practicing sustainable fashion though.

Goodnight x

'Africa has never really appealed to me...'

...Is something someone said to me last night. I actually think I held it together quite well considering how much this comment bothered me. Also good considering I'd had a litre of very nice red wine and no dinner by that point too.

ARRGHHH I just don't like it when people wipe out a whole continent from their mind simply because of what they hear on the news or what they think of as rational in their hair-brained minds...

This guy followed it up with 'because the crime in Johannesburg is awful'. Yes, you're right spongehead, the WHOLE of Africa is the same as Johannesburg, anyone want to swap seats with me?

Be sure to have lots of fun on your Spanish holiday where you never leave the compound of the resort and complain that people don't speak English and there's no decent TV shows or you don't like the food...

Breathe. Count to ten.

Idiot. Travel is about opening the mind, breaking down boundaries and opening the mind. Oh, I said that already...oops.

I've seen you wearing that dress before...

I was reading Company magazine in bed this morning (perfect hangover reading fodder) and I found myself getting increasingly frustrated by the fact that magazines, and the wider media too, constantly point out a celebrity wearing *shock horror* the same article of clothing more than once! But look! She wore that bag TWO YEARS AGO - Kate Winslet, hang your head in SHAME...

The media been doing this for years and I think it has always amused me more than anything, of course they have plenty of money, why should they have to wear an item more than once? Surely they can afford to wear new underwear every day if they wanted to? In fact I do recall reading that a male A-list celebrity never wore the same pair of socks twice. Socks. Is that just indulgence, laziness or greed because he is able to afford new socks every day? If he worked in an office or stacked shelves in a supermarket there's a slim chance things might be different on the sock front methinks.

Why has it become a massive deal for anyone in the public eye to re-use their clothes? In today’s society where you have a different bin to encourage recycling and supermarkets are berating you for not bringing your own re-useable bags and heaven forbid you leave your TV on standby overnight; it seems laughable that the media are not doing their part to change this mindset that celebrities should be pinpointed if they wear the same thing more than once.

Thinking of my own meagre wardrobe, I would reach crisis point within two weeks if I had the paparazzo outside my door pointing the finger for wearing something twice. I often buy an article of clothing and wonder what the hell I wore before I owned it because I wear it so often…

I was inspired by Sheena and her Uniform Project fundraiser for children in India when she pledged to wear a little black dress for a year in support of sustainable fashion. More celebrities should take note and give this a shot themselves in my humble opinion.

Now, I am not what you might call a fashion aficionado. Haute couture might as well be a dish on a restaurant menu for all I care, and I know there’s a lot of money to be made from fashion, but it hurts my brain to think of all the intricate work that goes on to make a beautiful dress that will be worn once on the red carpet, then who knows where it goes after that?

If I buy a dress that I LOVE, I’d want to wear it again and again and again! It’s sad enough that I’ll never be able to wear my wedding dress again. In public *ahem* actually maybe there's something to be said about the wedding dress indusrty, but that can keep for another day.

Now, if someone was to tell me that all these once-worn clothes go to good homes and fulfil their clothing destiny, then potentially I’ll feel better. I hate to bring the developing world in to it, but I will. I’ve seen enough families in ripped, filthy clothes to feel strongly about this, I don’t feel this frustration is unjustified. There’s so much more that we can be doing to act responsibly when it comes to fashion and recycling what we have in our wardrobes. I’m not saying we need to send our clothes to Africa, but changing this attitude starts at the top, higher than Kate Winslet using her handbag more than once…

Oh, here’s the Uniform Project I was banging on about earlier http://www.theuniformproject.com/

 

Hat trick of shameless same dress wearage! Over and out!

I WILL be thin for this summer...

I've decided to stop drinking, or at least stop drinking during the week, or...failing that at least drink less in general. I realised that every story I told little sister Beth when she was up here the other day started with 'This one time I was hammered' or 'I was so drunk this time' etc...which isn't so good, but I quite like being merry and with the festive season approaching, it's only going to escalate.

So...I've gone and done what I never EVER thought I'd do...no, no that - naughty. I've joined a GYM! And I quite enjoy it! I've got myself kitted out in Nike sports gear (other brands are available) I've made myself a play list of dudes to help motivate me (shout outs to Tinie Tempah, David Guetta, Snoop Dogg and oddly enough, Kelly Clarkson...) and I hit the gym a few times a week, I even went on a Sunday the other week, check me out. See, I enjoy the calories too much to cut back as much as I need to, so it's good old exercise for me as a counter balance. Jessica Alba, watch out love.

What else? Ummm talking of little sister Beth, her and the other half Oli came to stay the other day, which was full of laughs. We went for tapas then on up to the Skylounge in Leeds city centre for one overpriced drink (£8 for a cocktail I tell you...sip it, don't gulp it)

Here we are, roll call!

It's fun having them to stay, we listen to a lot of good music, stay up too late on a school night and laugh a lot when they're here :)

In other news, a fun night was had by all last Saturday for my good friend and colleague Laura's birthday party, hosted at my friend, colleague and gym buddy Nayani's house, then Leeds city centre.

Laura's on the right there, this photo makes me sad though because Rachel on the left is moving hundreds of miles away soon and I won't see her five times a week unless we REALLY make an effort. Humph.

Things I'm excited about:

• Going back to 'things I'm excited about' on here, I've dropped it since getting back from Africa. I blame Africa for this and many other things...
• The in-laws are descending on Leeds/Bradford for the weekend and it's going to get messy
• Going out for dinner with the fabulous newlyweds Brunoff and Mitch (must not ask them how married life is treating them, got SO annoyed with people asking me that...)
• Plodding through my TEFL course - yes life really is that exciting for me...I'm getting my geek on and learning stuff
• Going to see Bryan Adams on December 1st. Sadly it's not just me and him in a room having dinner, but I have to tolerate whoever else has booked to see him in Sheffield...*please no one else turn up* fingers crossed. 

A true gentleman, who will be missed.

Today is one of those days that punches you in the stomach and makes you feel like you could lose your faith in human kind in a tiny moment. It also makes you realise just how short and precious life really is. Sounds like an exaggeration, perhaps so, but writing helps slightly, then I'll try Galaxy chocolate next, then bed.

I heard today that someone I met, a great man, is no longer on this planet with us, and being the emotional wreck I am, this knocked me for six. I didn't know him for all that long, but I'm the type to form attachments even if I don't see people again or talk to them all that much. Once I've met someone and got to know them, I consider them a friend, I don't think that's a bad thing.

This man took me in to his home, told me I was part of his Honduran family, tolerated my crappy Spanish and was a friendly face in a new country. I think you know when you have met and been in the presence of someone who is completely kind and a genuinely lovely person, they stay with you for a long time afterwards. Snr. Rafael was this man who I could listen to his stories for hours (and I did) always had a smile for you and loved his family very much, especially his beautiful grandson, anyone could see this. A good man is no longer with his family, and I feel so sad for them all left behind. They are a great family, all beautiful and kind.

Snr. Rafael, it was a pleasure and a privilege to have met you. Gracias. Que descanse en paz.

What's the matter with some people?

OK. I've got to have a rant. I'm going to do it anyway. I am!

Today is my six month wedding anniversary to the boy, so we thought it important to have a romantic evening and celebrate in style.

We went to the cinema to watch Machine Gun Preacher. Good times.

Arriving in to Kirkstall Cinema, we stood and watched as a group of young lads were thrown out of the place by a young girl who worked there, and they shouted abuse at her and tried to intimidate her, but to her credit she didn't back down, and nor should she have (I have no idea why they were getting thrown out, nor do I care; I don't like young boys who are aggressive to young ladies!)

~It's at this point I'll mention an incident that happened a year or so ago at same cinema. A mum told these guys off for being loud during a film, they left the cinema, drove to a nearby petrol station, purchased a bottle of bleach and came back and threw it in this woman's face in the restaurant next door....unbelievable...~

After purchasing tickets and a bag of minstrels (for the boy...honest) we sat down in the cinema and no more than five minutes had passed before I had something thrown at my face by someone further down the cinema...grrrrr, hold me back. I remained CALM and, being British, muttered something under my breath about it not being cricket etc. I had full control of the situation.

Being that the film is mainly set in Sudan/Northern Uganda and centres around the horrible conditions the children are made to be a part of, such as making the choice between killing their own parents or being killed themselves; it's not really the right film choice for the uneducated, pathetic guys at the back who insisted on laughing and joking throughout. Another girl who worked at the cinema came and kicked them out and they kicked off at her. The boy and I faced the front in a typically British style. I was likely to swing for them myself if I got involved.

The film ended (it's an intense but fantastic film, recommend it) and headed home, stopping for petrol on the way. My patience ran out when some IDIOT let off a firework next to the petrol station.

I have to ask, what is the matter with some people? Especially sitting in the cinema watching a film based on a TRUE story about the hardship some people go through every day, the fight to stay alive, and yet they waste their own life, a life they are lucky to have, by being an annoyance and probably a danger for no reason whatsoever. I just don't get it. Maybe it was just my lucky night and they all convened around the LS6 Kirkstall area just to annoy me...

So I'm riled and rattled and very pleased to live far away from LS6 these days...

Windy Wales and a 92nd Birthday

Bor e dar! (or however you spell it in Welsh...)

I had the pleasure of spending a weekend in Wales two weeks ago with my crazy aforementioned camera whorish family!

We had laughs a plenty, long walks, pub lunch, card games, open fires, birthday cake, singing and cheese, all in good company of my brilliant family.

It was my Nan's 92nd birthday and sister Beth made the most deeeeeelicious cake and I'm responsible for eating a fair percentage of that...oops. Ah, the joy of not having a wedding dress to squeeze in to anymore.

Playing giant cards was a massive highlight, in fact all normal sized cards should be burnt and giant cards sworn in as an alternative.

Meeting all the family at Dad's cottage is the best thing ever and I love it. Good times.

Me, my siblings, a zebra suit and a trampoline...

...And we're good to go with plenty of laughs!

I'm one of five siblings. I'm the one bang smack in the middle. I see my siblings every couple of months. I see all of them in one place a couple of times a year - it's not enough, but we're working on it. We have the biggest laughs together now but we used to have epic fights a decade ago when we all lived together...crikey.

The most common word in our house a decade ago? "MUUUUUUUUUUUM"

Here's MuM...A.K.A. the mothership, or MOFO:

My siblings and I are massive camera whores, it's fair to say. Here's evidence:

We're spelling out 'loves' here, not sure why, I think it was the only 5 letter word we could think of...

I'm obsessed with my zebra onesie suit, and took it home for a family airing where we took turns wearing it on the trampoline...

Scores on the doors please?

AmsterdamN Good Times!

Settling back in to life back home is overrated I've decided!

So having been back in England for two weeks, it was time to get back on a plane...this time to Amsterdam for a teeny tiny weekend away, good times!
It didn't help that I went out the night before the 7am flight, so I didn't feel the greatest that I've ever felt getting on that flight...beautiful sunrise though, I could appreciate it...

Made it through the one hour flight without reaching for the paper bag, teeny bit of turbulence but nothing we Baxters can't handle. It's crazy that you can get to Holland on a plane from Leeds in the time it takes to drive to Sheffield...

We soaked up the culture in the McDonalds in the arrivals at the airport - normally I wouldn't go anywhere near but I didn't think I was going to pull out of my hangover without Ronald's assistance...Magic McMuffins.

Found our hotel without much drama, just walked fifteen minutes in the wrong direction so we stopped for our first drink of many that weekend:

Amsterdam is beautiful; it's a strange place, during the day you wander along the most beautiful streets and canals and sit in cafes eating delicious apple pies...

But then darkness falls in Amsterdam, and there's change in the air...Amsterdam takes on a sort of seedy buzz, an almost anything goes attitude, but that attitude comes from the tourists, the locals really are the same around the clock; unfased. They just kind of tolerate the tourism, rather than participate.

Something happens... you go to the smallest pub in Amsterdam and get talking to an American guy called Zack at the bar who is on his own in Amsterdam on business...

He seems nice enough, even if he claims he is 26, he must be the oldest 26yr old I've ever met :) then you get talking to a group of guys from somewhere around Hull who seems nice enough also...then...

BRUISED AND CONFUSED!

Anyway, we made our excuses and left with Josh telling me off for talking to strangers, drank some more, got some chips, got stupidly lost (all the roads look the same and have crazy names!) luckily Josh is now an iPhone bore and got us out of the pickle with his m-AP. Stopped off at an African club where I threw a few shapes before being dragged out of there at 3am. Tsk.

Next day it rained the WHOLE day, relentless.

Still we made the most of it posing for arty pictures in the rain...

Whatever the weather, I LOVE Amsterdam and would love to go back one day and hire a bike to see more of it. And eat more stropwafels and drink more Chocomel...and Heineken for Josh.

Zanzibar - The Perfect Place to Say Goodbye to Africa.

The trip is coming to an end, but we're too busy having fun to pay attention!

We head on the last bumpy bus from Stone Town to the beautiful destination of Nungwi, the North point of Zanzibar. We take the first and last group photo on the steps of the hotel in Stone Town...

A lovely bunch wouldn't you agree?

The drive to Nungwi takes around an hour or so and the plastic seats on the bus makes things so much more comfortable (read - sweaty and very uncomfortable, very pleased to have been wearing dark clothes or it would look like I'd had an accident) but the drive was so scenic, passing through small villages with huge palm trees and trucks piled high with mattresses and bicycles loaded with huge banana bunches, car horns beeping, children yelling, music playing - man, I love Africa...

We arrive at the accommodation in Nungwi and I see what Exodus have done, they've saved the best for last. This is what Nungwi looks like:

Not too shabby hey? Quite a change from the campsite in the Serengeti that's for sure...

We got settled at the bar whilst waiting for our room to be ready and were quickly approached by a rep at the hotel who was selling booze cruise tickets. We didn't even listen to her pitch, as soon as we heard booze cruise, we were on board. Literally. Five hours later, we boarded a tiny boat to take us out to sea to board a bigger boat packed to the rafters with all you can drink boooooze - party on a boat time!

Little boat to big boat to the bar! Salute!

There's not much to report from the boat trip, easily drank 10+ gin and bitter lemons, jumped off the boat in to the sea only to be surrounded by piano fish, freak out, drink more gin, jump off again, get back on, drink more gin, dance to loud music, watch sun set, attempt to pole dance, attempt to head stand against pole, slip, drink more gin, dance more, attempt to disembark on to tiny boat, freak out, enlist help of every single crew member to get self on tiny boat, swim back to hotel along shore, attempt Dirty Dancing lift in sea, swim out to different boat in attempt to be Somalian Pirate, shower, eat pizza, fall in to drunken slumber. Bliss. Am not missing camping one tiny bit.

Here's the boat best bits:

The next morning, we drag ourselves to breakfast at 9.58am as they stop serving at 10am - made it! Gimme the nutella pancakes! Take selves back to bed to have a sharp word with ourselves, then complete the hard task of finding somewhere to sunbathe.

Sunbathing complete for the morning, we head to lunch, absolutely shattered from the morning we've had so far and sweating gin out of my system! Eat another pizza and flop back down on the sand, ready to be hassled by the beach boys selling booze cruises - no thanks just did one, why do you think we stink of GIN...even this dog is wary...

It's going to be very hard to leave this place...

 It's not going to be so hard to leave this guy...

The last night was fun filled once more, one more for the road princesses! We had dinner altogether as a group one last time and then hit the beach party at Kendwa Rocks for one last night of fun, drinking and dancing to African tunes.

Needless to say we took it too far for our last night and once again got dragged out at 3am...lame. Well Honor and I rebelled against this lameness of going home early by jumping in to the sea once again and going for a swim. And why not? I'm on my holiday.

Rough and sandpaper I awoke in the morning and my first thought was that someone must have spiked my drink, there's no way I drank that much...but I remember demanding cocktails at the bar and admitted guilt. Yes your Honour it was me that drank too much - why do we always go for it hard on the last night of holiday?

Anyway, it was a very long day indeed ahead of us with a flight from Zanzibar airport to Nairobi then on to Heathrow...I loved Zanzibar airport with it's relaxed attitude towards airport daily business.

No sign of a conveyor belt, our luggage was carried off on a parcel trolley, I was convinced we'd never see it again...particularly as the man with the trollet called out 'say goodbye to your luggage' as he wheeled it away...ermmm, not funny.

The plane was supposed to depart at 6.30pm, at 7.15pm we were standing cooling down on the runway (it's allowed at Zanzibar airport) with no sign of any plane, so we asked someone in the airport when it was due to arrive, to which he responded 'the plane should be here anytime from now'...can you imagine that in Heathrow?? Too funny. Love Africa.

Anyway, cutting a long story short, we slept on every flight, only waking up for food or drinks and eventually made it to London:

Where we then began the long journey back to Leeds and to a nice hot shower and a flushing toilet!

Trip of a lifetime, I'm forever in Honor Baldry's debt which unsettles me slightly...

Kwa heri, lala salama and Asante Sana!