So you think you can dance?

For some of us, those in their mid-teens and below, this is potentially the first time they've seen sunshine. Science classes UK wide are being modified to assure the children it's perfectly normal, and usually brief.

 I'm worried that if we pay it too much attention we'll scare it off. I think we should act all nonchalant, and dress for winter. Because we British have a habit of donning shorter than short shorts, greasing ourselves with factor fifty, and slapping a sausage on the barbecue upon the first sight of gleaming ray. Let's play hard to get, and then maybe once, just one time, we'll achieve more than 4 days of summer a year.

Have you heard anyone complaining that it's too warm? Of course you have, several times. Because as soon as it stops being too cold, it starts being too warm.

As I was enjoying aforementioned sun at the weekend, lying back on the grass, I was attacked, dear reader. I use the word attacked here, inferring to a kind of GBH incident of grand proportions. A good friend had given me a gift (free lip gloss with her magazine, but Clinique nonetheless). Ginger Beard had covered my trainers in the lip gloss, and the lip gloss layer in grass. My converse! My loyal companions on life's journey! Oh, and how they laughed at my sticky, pink feet! The bastards!

I'm currently scheming over how to get him back, and very keen to hear your suggestions. He doesn't read my blog, because he's too busy talking to pigs (I think he's a pig whisperer), so it's absolutely fine if you want to comment.

ALSO I am playing a game with Starbucks - name bingo. They've started to ask the name of each customer, to write on the cup, so that they can reluctantly yell out 'Hi Steve, here's your Caramel Mac to go!' The fun part is how they spell it. Today's variation is a 'J' with a 'G' on top of it, an 'e' bashed on top of both of them, and then 'ma'. Very exciting. Someone at work is planning to take six of his friends in to buy coffee, and pretend to be the seven dwarfs. They can probably do this straight faced because they are all accountants. I'm a bit annoyed, since this is a fabulous idea, and not one I came up with. I'd also be fascinated to see how they spell 'Grumpy' when my name is usually 'GJema'.

So there's this thing in London in like, hmmm, a summer month, where we learn to dance like the peeps in bollywood films, and then flash dance it up for charity. It sounds like an opportunity for maximum feel good/humiliation/expense. Who's in? Now that I think I can Zumba (I really can't) I'm going to do that instead (trading up on my usual Macarena/Saturday night remixed moves). Let's just totally do it guys, chums, invisible friends of mine. Huh? Yeah? FIT.