A Thoughtful Kind of a Week.

I have been meaning to blog all week but life has conspired against me to the extent that yesterday was the first time I got to actually sit down and read the blogs I follow let alone write anything myself.

I'd better warn you now I feel this is going to be a ramble....

To digress for a moment do any of you find yourself being reminded of other bloggers or their posts whilst you are out and about?? This week for me it has been PennyDreadful and her afternoon tea post and LandGirl1980 and her Boots Traditional Range post. The reasons? Today I was on not one, but two computer courses. I survived both and actually enjoyed one of them!?! EEK
Anyway the building they were in is a blast from the past 1970's office block and hardly touched since it would seem, oh how I wish I had my camera with me when I visited the ladies! Unlike the ones in Penny's post these were not the height of glamorous luxury however they were the height of what would have been1970's modernity. Everything from the wall colour to the font of the 'Ladies' sign on the door screamed 1970's but nothing more so than the wall mounted ashtrays in the toilet cubicles! I kid you not. If  I'm ever back there there will be photies I promise.

The Boots Traditional post came to mind when I was in Boots of all places, funny that!
I commented on the post that I have always used Glycerin and Rosewater toner ever since my first foray into the delights of make-up (navy blue eyeliner and spot concealer anyone?) It also made me have the first of many ponders this week which is why I have given this blog it's title.
To explain, I am one of lifes great procrastinators and I am convinced a symptom of that is thinking about things too much, even the most ridiculous or random things can occupy my mind for hours.
 So my first mental wonderings were about all the products I have used on my face over the years to remove varying thicknesses of slap. I remember when I bought my first item of make-up, (a navy blue eyeliner pencil from Doncaster market no less) was a time where I was also reading 'Jackie' magazine. I recall the product advertised constantly in there was 'Anne French Cleansing Milk' but I never got on with it and went with the less trendy Nivea. Without getting you lost in my random mental detail and boring you all to death, I'll just say, over the years the products have come and gone but I now realise I have come full circle and am back on the Nivea and the Glycerin & Rosewater! How strange.
However I will also add I use this amazing stuff from Yves Rocher, a French mail order skincare company

My skin just loves it, and it is a natural product from an ethical company which is always a plus in my book.

My next mental aimless meandering was around the momentous question of where am I from? or Where classes as my 'Home' town? This was all down to Mr Stephen Fry no less. I went to see him on a tour and book signing in Oxford, and when I got to the table with book clutched in hand he asked me that very question. 'Where are you from?' I must add this was after he FAILED me by pronouncing my name wrong, I was so sure a pedant like him would know the correct pronunciation, but I digress... He said 'that's an unusual name, where are you from?' At the time I replied 'Oxford' (to which he replied 'That's convenient') but as I travelled home on the train I did think am I really? does the fact that I have lived in and around Oxford for over 25 years now make it the place I come from or most idnetify with, is it my 'home' town, or should that be the place of my birth? I still haven't decided on that one. God help my poor addled brain.

Finally this week I went to an accoustic evening with Erik and Jaret from my favourite band 'Bowling for Soup'.

We took nephew number one, who is STILL growing dammit, and now towers over me! He did crack me up bless him. I had just come back from the bar and was trying not to die of heart failure over the prices (£4.05 for a can of beer!?!$%*&!) when his phone went, he checked it, said 'I must go, my people are here' and stalked off leaving us dismissed like some sort of minions to his celebrity!
I will finish with a final and very sobering ponder.

 This is the back shot of a girl in the queue waiting to go in. She was there with two 'friends' I put that in quotes because friends? really? what kind of friend would ever let you go out with that kind of clothing catastrophy going on? Not a true one that is for sure. It reminded me of a girl I used to drink with Sarah, who just like this young girl was stunningly pretty but no stick insect. Sarah, who did not have the best of clothes senses, had a 'friend' who used to deliberatly let her go out in awful unflattering outfits to make herself look better. What do you think?