So my photos are not that great. I have a film SLR that I love wth all my heart, and I feel all arty and, you know, cool, when I'm taking photos. But what I see in my head just doesn't often come out on film. Like in my mind? I'm thinking Donna Hay with a touch of Frankie, but what comes out is often a confusing mix of 1970's Woman's Weekly and year 11 photography classes. Anyway. I simply couldn't let these beautiful tulips in my Granny's teacups (plus the rogue anemones) slip away unremembered. I'm sentimental. I'm tired. I get sentimental when I'm tired. Also? Sarah Blasko - Perfect Now? Tops song to have on repeat when you're working through the night.
Was also at the international departures today. Have requested gift. New Hugo Boss Orange with smackings of duty free, thankyou kindly! And fingers crossed for some orange leather gloves from the streets of Italy. I may never experience the optimal weather conditions for leather glove wearing, but if I ever had to rush to Alaska on a business trip of high and confidential importance (possible), you can bet my sweet citrus-y gloves would be in flung in my much too large weekend bag with gay abandon!
I'm off to eat my body weight in chocolate. Wish me luck!