The girl with the turquoise eyes

Have you ever had that thing happen to you when you see someone and you’re so struck by their beauty that you at least want to take their picture, if not something – anything – more?

It happened today.

Walking through a tiny town that just happens to be Britain’s smallest city, labouring up a hill and talking about Harry Potter (of all things), there she was.  Like a sorceress, she bewitched us both.  Strolling obliviously down the hill with her (very lucky) man, looking like a supermodel, her turquoise eyes drew me in and left me breathless.  I wanted to run after her and beg her to let me photograph her; Ade told me he fell instantly in love (I was much of the same opinion).  The most piercing eyes I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure that no coloured contacts could have given that effect (I know; I’ve tried).

Does she know?  Is she aware of the effect she has?  Will I ever see her again and get to take that photograph?

Eyes that pierce your very soul, at the same time disconcerting and enchanting.  She may have been a witch; she certainly weaved her magic on me.

Ouch

Yowch

Originally uploaded by MissChick

This has been a crap week off work, as it hasn’t stopped raining which had scuppered our plans to go camping in Cornwall.

So, in a fit pf pique, I went to a tattoo shop today to see about getting the tattoo I’ve been wittering about for months.

It was obviously meant to be – the only appointment available for the next week was at 1 p.m. today. So I only had to wait 15 minutes. Gulp.

Before I knew it, I was on the couch having the design drawn freehand on me. Another gulp.

A few* moments of unbearable pain later, and i have a new tattoo.

The colours will fade as it heals., but I’m so impressed with the shading and the lines. I love it!

* like, an hour.

Gay icon

So – just come back from a weekend in Brighton.

What I love best about Brighton is that it’s Gaysville.  Which means that I can go out, and while I get some male attention, it’s not your average meat market.  Instead of getting leered at and mentally undressed by unwashed and uncouth oiks, I get compliments on my hair (‘I wish I could get mine that colour!’).  Men (gay) come up and talkto me about my shoes, my clothes, my cleavage – but all in a non-invasive, non-sleazy way.  Sure, they want to talk about themselves, but I have a (semi) gay Aries male as one of my best mates – I’m used to people talking about themselves

And this weekend, a gay guy called me a gay icon.  That’s probably one of the best compliments I’ve ever received; especially when you think of famous gay icons like Kylie, Danni and Madonna