Happy-crying in Paris


I do not usually happy-cry. You know, like when you're so overcome with love for the world and everything in it that you just well up and sob like Rylan Clark on X Factor in 2012? It's possible that the last time this happened to me prior to this weekend was when I woke up after a very boozy night out to find that Mikey had already ordered £42 worth of pizza. I'm pretty sure I happy-cried then. So please understand the gravity of the situation when I say that I happy-cried this weekend. I don't think I need to say it again but I will anyway for good measure; I really, really, really, really love Paris. 







   


















  





Oh Paris. You splendid little babe of babeness. #RylanClarking

Happy-crying in Paris 2.0 will be up on the blog soon so make sure ya don't miss it by following along on Bloglovin', Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Would really love you for it, too, so there's that.

St Tropez, France


There is one reason and one reason alone why Saint Tropez holds a special place in my heart: it was the first place I ever sampled the delectable delights of the creme brulĂ©e ice cream. Now we all know that good food is the key to my heart/pants/inheritance tax so you can rest assured, that this place ranks pretty highly on my freakin'-naughty list. Beautiful as it is though, this little hubbub on the south coast of France has an incredible habit of reminding me just how poor I really am. You kinda feel like you can't afford to look at some of the shops here. Like some sort of Gucci clad man in boat shoes and a jumper flung frivolously around his shoulders is gonna demand your current salary and politely suggest you return to Bognor Regis.










   


Have you ever visited St Tropez? Talk to me, ladies and gentlemen. I'm feeling chatty.

Keep up to date with my inane wittering by following along on Bloglovin', Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Big love y'all. 


Ain't no rainbow without a little rain


Bleurgh. Bleurgh. BLEURGH. Yep that pretty much sums me up right now. Partly due to the ongoing inner turmoil of DO I OR DO I NOT TAKE A COAT / UMBRELLA / SKI BOOTS to work today because the damn weather can’t decide whether it’s coming, going, maybe leaving, possibly staying a bit later or not even bloody turning up at all.  And partly because, well, life is just a little bit shit sometimes isn't it? So in my most despondent yet actually incredibly poignant and reflective post yet, I leave you with photographs from a day of torrential downpour on my most recent holiday. Because you know what? You can't have a rainbow without a little rain.


  







So you know what, because I'm not in the happiest place right now and because I'm not going to bore y'all with the mini trials and tribulations of why that may or may not be, I'll leave you in the words of John Green. Because sometimes all you need in your life is a little bit of JG wisdom to remind you to get up, dress up and bloody show up.
We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken.
Thanks John, mate. I'm sure I'll be right as rain again before ya know it. Especially after the triple chocolate brownie I'm planning to bake, not share, and eat entirely by myself at some point this weekend. I promise I'm normally happier than this so stick around for the sun to shine out my ass again by following along on Bloglovin', Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Or all four.