Yesterday Jon and I went to Brighton for the day-I needed to finish up some birthday shopping for the bff and return a (sadly) ill-fitting dress to Primark (for those out of the UK, Primark is like a less-fashiony Forever 21, where everything is made of some sort of plastic. I’m sure you find great things there sometimes, but I’m not buying a harsh plastic shirt,or a leopard print jumpsuit, even if it IS only 2 pounds. Ouch.) Oh, and we didn’t go into Brighton until after we’d done Sunday’s training run of 4 miles. Now, seriously, Jon has been running with me in his Converse. Converse! But he didn’t/doesn’t complain at all, that lovely boy. But yesterday’s run left me with some chaffed thighs (maybe tmi, but this is mine, i’m sorry!). Really, really painful. So painful that then walking around in Brighton for hours left me with welts on my thighs and then I slept with a pillow between my legs. Frick.
Okay, back to adventures. After shopping, it was about dinner time, so we popped into a wonderful little place offering Thai cuisine. One beef pad thai (Jon) and pad cashew nut (me) later, I was stuffed and so so happy. Also, they serve their drinks in fabulous goblets like this:
I want to drink out of it all the time! Water, lemonade, vodka, orange juice, hit me up-I have a silver goblet. How Kanye-esque!
Walking down the street, we came across as shop that had a measuring standard/thing outside. Next to each measurement were the names of famous people who were also that tall. I, at 5’3″ was as tall as Sammy Davis Jr and Dusty Springfield. Jon (6’2″) was disappointed to be only an inch taller than George Michael, for some reason.
Eventually we made it to The Prince Albert, a pub with punk rock tendencies, where we’d come to watch 2 of Jon’s friend’s fantastic, wonderful, rock n rolla bands play. Seriously, you can never fully trust your boyfriend when he says “his friends are in a band and they’re pretty good”. But they were amazing. Punk, manic, amazing. Thank God for live music. And thank God for kids and guitars man. They make the world go round! Sweet, sweet memories of my teen/early 20s of mosh-pits, front row screaming, and general musical orgasmic mayhem.