God this is refreshing.
I have a voice again!
Sure, it's in the form of a keyboard and a bunch of typed words but in all seriousness, this feels good!
Basically...I've lost my voice.
Don't know how or why, but it's gone.
Deserted me just like Rose deserted Jack on that plank of wood, saying she'd never let go and then doing just that five minutes later when he's snuffed it.
I'm 99% convinced it's some sort of blog sympathy karma, punishing me for my lack of posts and forcing my laptop upon me when I've had such little inspiration of late, despite some pretty awesome blog photo's laying un-used in my camera roll.
Trusty iPhone camera done good peeps.
You'll see them one day, I promise...
The further 1% believes my lack of voice may be down to occupational hazard, and suddenly not shutting up after six weeks of comparative silence.
I've never felt so trapped!
I mean like about twenty million other people out there I full on balled my eyes out at Musharaf on 'Educating Yorkshire' last year, trying to overcome his stammer, and good god now I see even more clearly what an amazingly patient and determined character he is.
Two days with no voice and I'm done for.
Mushy, mate, I salute you.
I tried to perform my best 'Black Widow' karaoke sesh in the car earlier, and all I got was something between a whisper, a squeak and a growl.
Shamefully, that was during Iggy's part.
And she doesn't even bloody sing!
I mean it's not like I was even being adventurous here; normally I'd be aiming for those Sam Smith high notes and convincing myself that I sound half decent, despite sounding like his banshee equivalent.
Today, I wouldn't even be able to convince the money spider living near my wing-mirror of such things.
It wouldn't have been able to hear me.
Okay so finally I can shut up and get on to the good stuff, and my real reason for blogging today.
Simply, I miss my lovely friend Sahrah who recently got married and relocated to the
wrong other side of the Pennines, away from me, our buddies, and Ali Shaan's pizzas, (snm) and thought I'd blog a little part of her day.
It's just over a year since I last blogged the marriage of two of my friends, Asian style, and my god what a day it was for me - I was living the dream well and truly, and wearing one of the most beautiful sari's I have ever seen.
Now of course I'll take any opportunity to live out my Princess Jasmine dream once again, so when my lovely Sahrah told me her amazing news/shielded herself from me jumping on her in wild excitement, *ahem*, it was decided that a shopping trip was in order!
It wasn't a long trip.
Nopee, within possibly about five minutes - and therefore a record short shopping trip, my dream suit had been selected, and the only thing able to calm down my extreme excitement was a delicious slice of the aforementioned Ali Shaan's pizza.
Which just happens to be like right next door to the clothes shop, totes meant to be...
I chose a stunning suit in a graduated ombre coral pink, decorated with jewel coloured turquoise, orange, gold and purple strips, and finished with an embroidered piece layered over the top of the dress - literally too gorgeous for words...and EEEEK it was mine!
Fast forward a couple of months, some stitching, and not nearly enough Ali Shaan's later, and the big day was here.
On went my suit, 'big' went my hair, and 'flicked' went more liquid eyeliner than I've worn since err...the other, slightly less 'Princess-y' time I played dress up.
I was almost ready!
The finishing touch came in the form a beautiful diamante tikka, worn in my hair and falling down my forehead, bought from Sahrah's sister Sanna's shop, 'Sparkle Hijab's and Accessories'...
Beautiful it looked, although it did actually fall off my forehead part way through, and had to be 'fixed' in.
If you could see how many bobby pins I had in my fringe - LOOOOOOOL!!
That is all.
Screw Kate Middleton, screw Jasmine - I don't care how many Prince's or magic carpets they have, I was for that day only, a Princess.
|The STUNNING couple.|
|I'm imagining the babies, and they're adorable...no pressure Sahrah.|
|Pressure's on you too Munir, Aunty Holly awaits *cough cough*|
Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it appears my poorly throat is catching.
My laptop, ladies, (and sneaky gents) is sick, and the letter 'k' is sticking.
My poor 'k' is failing me even worse than my Rita Ora notes.
And let's be real here, her lines are hardly challenging, even for us banshees.
I'm bashing my 'K' harder than I battered a persistent fly at 5.20am in Poland this Summer with 'Heat' magazine, forcing it to work, because unlike my voice, I will not lose this battle!!
YOU SHALL NOT REMOVE MY LETTERS YOU EVIL VIRUS YOU!!
At least I have the memories here of Sahrah's special day to make me smile and cure my silent keyboard bashing rage.
Hopefully along with my rage, it can cure my throat?
God dammit - I'll be forever condemned to bopping my head along with wordless music.
'Animals' is still a tune, right?
RIP my 'K', my voice, and Matilda the Polish fly.
P.S Miss you Sahrah <3
P.P.S Sorry Munir, she's mine.
P.P.S Sorry Munir, she's mine.