Photoshoot with Nicole Dick.

Happy Halloween!

I’m not doing much this year for Halloween. I’m having a quiet night in with my boyfriend, having a few ciders and a takeaway, and will probably watch some films. 
I just wanted to do a quick blog update as I felt yesterday I made great progress and a big step in the right direction to trying to boost my confidence. There’s a lovely girl that I met a couple of years ago through a mutual friend – Nicole Dick. She is studying photography at college. We have decided to work together and help each other out in our own way. She needs someone to help her confidence behind the camera and to model for her college course and I just need confidence in general. She’s a very down to earth person and I knew that she would make me feel comfortable. I met up with her yesterday and we chatted about everything – we just clicked. I was so glad as it really helped my nerves. We done a photoshoot outside with some gorgeous scenery. Nicole has plans and ideas for photo shoots in the future and I really look forward to working with her. It really helped me feel good about myself and she encouraged me the whole way through it. She was just great. I think it’s a great idea for me to do these photo shoots with her as it may help my confidence in the long run. 
I don’t have much to say at the moment, that was all really, so I will share a few of the photographs from yesterday. 
Hope you all have a wonderful Halloween! 

My Gran rest in peace I love you eternally

The Loss of My Gran McElhinney.

This is a blog post about the loss of my Gran McElhinney. I have been putting off talking about it since the day it happened – 5th of March 2015. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever accept it. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to talk about it. I’m going to do my best to open up about it through writing. I want to talk about it, openly. This is going to be an extremely personal piece of writing. 

It was the 5th of March, 2015. I was awoken abruptly by my dad who seemed very distressed. It was a Thursday and it had just gone 9am. He told me that the hospital had called and asked for the family to come up right away. My Gran was in hospital but she was doing fine. Mum and dad had visited the day before and she was looking radiant. Why all the urgency? I had never seen my dad like this before. He began to cry as he spoke the words to me, “Charlene, I think she’s dying”. No. No. No. I couldn’t fathom it. Not my Gran. She was the strongest lady I knew. She had been through everything. She’s doing fine. 
I immediately threw myself out of bed and threw on the clothes that were lying on a pile on the floor from the night before. I couldn’t care less about my appearance; I wanted to be with my Gran. My beautiful, precious Gran. My favourite lady in the whole wide world. Always has been – always will be.
My father, mother and I all rushed out the door and my dad drove us to the hospital. On route, I received a text from my auntie (my dad’s sister) and it read “She’s away.” We all guessed what she meant but refused to accept it. None of us spoke the whole way there. You could cut the tension with a knife. There was a profound silence the whole way. We arrived at the hospital, my mum and dad held hands, I tagged along behind and we quickly made our way into the hospital. My stomach was doing backflips, the palms of my hands and back of my neck sweating, a massive lump in my throat. I didn’t know what to think or what to feel. She’s away? Away where? Maybe it was autocorrect, I thought. Mobile phones nowadays always try and correct spelling. It didn’t make sense. What did she mean? 
We were met at the hospital by a doctor. My mother, father and I were took into a small room. The doctor broke the devastating news that my Gran McElhinney had passed away. We had just missed her by half an hour. My heart sank. We all began to cry. We tried to comfort one another but couldn’t find the words. Next, we were told we could go in and see her. 
As we walked into the room, my father broke down. He had to leave the room again. He couldn’t look at his mother like this. My auntie and my mother were crying hysterically. None of us knew what to do. Again, trying to comfort one another but feeling completely numb and broken. I sat beside my Gran and I held her precious hand, I could still feel her body heat. Her eyes were shut and I was just praying for them to open again. I love you, Gran. I said, over and over and over again. She looked so fragile and as beautiful as ever. How can someone look so beautiful on their deathbed? I was in a state of shock. It broke my heart. I no longer felt myself. I had to stand outside the room for a moment to take this all in.
My mother, father and auntie were in a state. I made the phone calls to all of the family to let them know the devastating, tragic news. My brother made his way to the hospital, along with my cousin and other Auntie. It broke all of our hearts to see her this way. What broke my heart the most, was taking off my Gran’s jewellery. I had been asked to do it and I knew my Gran would rather I did it than a nurse. So I tried. My hands were shaking and my insides were all over the place. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it. 
My Gran was such a proud lady. Always glamorous, always impeccable. Even on her death bed she looked as beautiful as ever. She held her rosary beads in her hands, still gripping on to them. She looked so peaceful. I asked for a few minutes on my own with her and I lay my head gently on her chest and cried like I’ve never cried before. I lay beside her and cuddled her. I wanted to stay there – forever – and never let go. 
One week later, I visited my Gran one last time at the funeral parlour. She looked absolutely stunning. An angel. Family were allowed to come and see her one last time, meanwhile “You’re the first, my last, my everything” by Barry White was played softly in the background. That was what my Gran wanted. It was my Gran and Papa’s song and it was very dear to her. It always brought a smile to her face. It really broke my heart leaving her that day. I knew I would never see her again. My brother and I went in together and we both cried and comforted one another. I couldn’t find the correct words to say. My Gran knew I loved her with all of my heart, soul, body and mind. She knew that.
Next we had my Gran’s funeral. It all seemed so fast. It was a blur. I was in a state of shock. I couldn’t accept that this was my Gran’s funeral. At the service (which was a beautiful service – my Gran had a wonderful send off) I done a reading. I wasn’t sure if I could manage it but I knew my Gran would have wanted me to. When the priest asked me I said yes immediately. I managed to hold myself together to say the reading; and what beautiful words they were. “Alive or dead – we belong to the Lord.” Romans 14: 7~9.
From this day, my mother, father and I had the difficult task of cleaning out my Gran’s house. My Gran had heaps of things. The house was absolutely full. My Gran and Papa kept everything. The hardest part, for me and mum, was going through my Gran’s clothes. It was truly heartbreaking. She had so many glamorous, stunning and immaculate clothes. Some of which she had not even the chance to wear. My Gran had drawers upon drawers of make up alone. She always bought the best of everything. She always looked perfect and took great pride in her appearance. (It’s breaking my heart talking in past tense as I still can not believe she is gone). 
For weeks, mum, dad and I went to my Gran’s house and had to empty the house from top to bottom. My auntie also helped out as she had many of her own belongings there too. It was all just so heartbreaking as everything was sentimental and valuable. We would be emptying a drawer or cupboard and stumble across something so meaningful and it would stop us in our tracks. I felt a strong presence of my Gran in the house whilst my parents and I done this task. I knew she was watching over us and helping us through it. It was something that had to be done and she would have been glad it was us doing it. It never made it any easier though. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, or will ever have to do, in my life.
Today, was the last time in my entire life that I would stand in my Gran McElhinney’s home. The new people are moving in tomorrow. My Gran passed in March and this is now nearly November. It’s all happened so fast. My heart really is broken. It’s affected my parents and I really bad but also brought us closer together. We have all had to remain strong throughout the whole process for the sake of each other. Today, my mum, dad and I wanted to go to my Gran’s house for one last time – just to say goodbye. It was extremely sad. I didn’t want to leave. Although it was empty; I could just feel my Gran’s presence. Every part of me felt empty. So many beautiful, precious memories in this home. I just can’t accept that I’ll never be back there – that I’ll never see my Gran again.
Losing someone is a dreadful, tragic thing. I have idolised my Gran ever since I was a young girl. She thought the world of me and I had a relationship with her that I will NEVER have with anyone else that I encounter in my life. She was special. She was inspirational. She was hilarious, perfect, wise and strong. I can’t possibly explain in words how wonderful she was. She was something else. Everyone thought so highly of her. I spoke about my Gran constantly, I bragged about her, I was always so proud of her – I still am! 
Nothing will ever be the same again. Christmas will never be the same again. I will never be the same again. My family and I are dreading Christmas this year. I have no idea how we will get through it. People say that time is a great healer; however I don’t think it is getting any easier. I miss my Gran more and more each day. I visit her grave constantly with flowers. She always said before she died,”I hope when I die there is always flowers at my grave.” There will be, Gran. I’ll make sure of it. 
I think of my Gran, every day. I believe she sends me signs. I believe she is watching over me. I hope that when I go to heaven; she is the first person that I meet. I love you Gran, I always will. I will miss you eternally. Xx


Billy McAulay funeral rest in peace. Graduation from college university

Billy’s Funeral & My Brother’s Graduation.

I’ve had a very long, strenuous day. I’m not used to having things planned. Today I had two important things that I had to attend: Billy McAulay’s funeral and my brother (Aaron)’s college graduation.

My anxiety has been pretty bad recently. I was really worried about both of these situations. I knew that I would be surrounded by unknown people and it made me extremely anxious as I had a panic attack at the concert last week. However, Billy was a very special person and I just had to go and pay my respects and say goodbye. Aaron, is my brother, and he has done so well over the past couple of years. I knew in my heart that I had to go to.
Billy McAulay. What a special, caring, genuine and extraordinary individual. At his funeral today, the church was full. I knew it would be a great turn out as he was such a well liked man. The service was lovely. The priest had known Billy for 8 years and really conveyed Billy’s personality perfectly. He spoke of how when Billy visited Rome and was given a tour around all of the Catholic Churches; he resembled a child visiting Disney land. I smiled at the thought. That was Billy – that was how I knew him. Enthusiastic about life; and most of all – his faith.
I was very tentative about going to Billy’s funeral. I wanted to go with all of my heart – I knew it was the right thing to do. The night before Billy passed away he messaged me telling me I was talented and that I should get back into my singing and guitar playing; I had not yet found a chance to reply. I knew in my heart I had to be at his funeral. He had to know I was eternally grateful for the encouragement he always gave me and the belief that he had in me. He thought I had potential and I never got to thank him for that.
 I was so anxious about going today. My heart was beating like crazy as I walked into St Lucy’s Catholic Church. I had not been to a church since the passing of my Gran McElhinney. I was not sure if I was emotionally or mentally ready to go back into a church. Before I lost my Gran, I went to church regularly. After I lost my Gran, I guess I stopped going as much and I can’t explain why. The thought of going to mass and perhaps hearing a hymn that was sung at my Gran’s funeral was heart breaking. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that. I spent days worrying about wether or not I should go and what would be the right thing to do. I went. I’m glad I went. I knew if I didn’t go I would regret it for the rest of my days. It was an extremely sad morning but Billy had a wonderful send off – just what he deserved. I just know Billy will be eternally missed by so many people. Rest in peace, Billy McAulay, thank you for everything.
Later on in the evening, I attended my brother, Aaron’s, college graduation. He had personally asked if I would go and support him. How could I say no? For a week, I worried about it. I worried about worrying about it (I’m an over thinker – it’s what I do). I stressed myself out about it. Where would it be? What sort of people would be there? What do I wear? Will people judge me? What do I do? In the end, it all turned out ok. My brother was really pleased that I went and I was super proud of him. He stood there, dignified and proud, in his robe. My brother. I’m proud of the man he has become.
I really had to push myself today to attend Billy’s funeral and Aaron’s graduation. I feel totally drained. I think I have perhaps pushed myself and done too much too soon. However, I feel better that I was able to go. I was able to say goodbye to Billy and I was able to watch my brother walk proudly on to the stage and graduate college. It’s been an intense day. A hard day for me. I’m not used to doing so much in one day. I think I am going to have an early night. 

Rest in peace, Billy. God bless. 

Sleep deprived coronation street Tuesday motivation

Sleep Deprived & Coronation Street

Last night I had a terrible sleep. I was tossing and turning for as long as I can remember. When I did, eventually, drift off to sleep; I kept finding myself having nightmares and waking myself back up again. It was oppressive. It was too much. All I wanted was to close my eyes and just sleep. That was all I wanted. 

However, although I’ve had a dreadful night and I am lacking sleep severely – I have a plan of action. I’m going to go a long walk today, saunter where my feet take me, and I’m going to try and make myself tired. The more I do; the more I’ll need the sleep. That’s my logic. It’s feasible that I’ll feel tired tonight after last nights antics anyway. Surely I won’t have to endure what I went through last night, again?
I’ve been up since 6am this morning. My boyfriend got up to leave for work. We spent some quality time together before he left. Afterwards, I settled down with my iPad and I watched Coronation Street followed by a dip into the book I am currently reading. After reading a chapter, I decided to write a blog post as it has been two days, I try my best to keep my blogging as regular as possible. I guess you could say I’ve had a productive morning, so far!
I mentioned Coronation Street earlier; I absolutely adore this soap! It is the only programme that I’ve ever religiously watched. Anyone who knows me, knows how dedicated and hooked I am to ‘Corrie’. I’ve watched it ever since I was just a young girl. I feel like I’ve gotten to know all of the characters; when one of them leaves or is written out of the programme – it affects me. Ha! I get so beat up by it. It’s pretty sad but it’s true. 
I love acting. Throughout all of my years at school, drama was a subject I held close to my heart and felt passionate about. I still do. The only problem with me now is that I haven’t got the confidence to pursue these dreams and ambitions. I used to act, confidently. I used to sing, play guitar and carry out gigs at different venues. Where is that girl now? She’s transfixed with fear. Anything out of the comfort zone makes her weary. She’s dispirited. She has no faith in herself in all aspects of her life. But she’s trying…
I’m trying. That’s all you can do. I guess you could say I ain’t trying hard enough; but I’ll get there. Slowly but surely. I’ll get there. 
It’s currently just gone 08:25am and my belly is rumbling. I’m craving a banana, I think. I guess it’s time to get up, ready and motivate myself for the day. 
Until next time! 💛


Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike

I’m a couple of days late in updating you all about the concert. I have been eager to do it but I was in no fit state to be blogging yesterday (as I was a write off)! And today my boyfriend and I decided to go a spontaneous drive and ended up 150 miles from home. We arrived home not long ago and I had things to do but, not to worry, I’m here now and ready to share my experience at ‘Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike’ with you all.

Firstly, I’ll mention where the actual concert was as I failed to do so in my previous post. It was held in Braehead Arena, Glasgow. I had never been here before (neither had my friend, Lozza) so it was a first time experience for the both of us. We were absolutely clueless. We had a few drinks beforehand in her house and were feeling a little tipsy. Our taxi was booked for 7 o’clock and we both felt we never really got a chance to have a proper drink together before we left… So, we decided to take a sneaky quarter bottle of vodka in the back of the taxi with us – which we took in turns of having  a swig out of on our journey. By the time we arrived at the arena, (well, I say the arena, the taxi actually dropped us off at a local supermarket because apparently they are not allowed to drop people off at the arena) we were both feeling rather merry. We were giggling and chatting away. Then we realised, we hadn’t a clue where we were going! We asked the staff in the supermarket to direct us, followed by a security guard, until we noticed other people (that were dressed as though they were going to a concert, we assumed) making their way towards what we believed was the arena. We followed on. We were right. Thank goodness. So that was that. We got there in one piece.
Luckily for us, the queue wasn’t bad at all. The rain was getting rather heavy but we weren’t fussed. It didn’t really bother us. Perhaps it was the drink that made us oblivious to the rain. The staff offered us ponchos (probably because the both of us decided not to wear a jacket) which we took appreciatively but did not use. As we passed all the security, showed our ID and tickets – we were in. All was fine (apart from the fact they binned our mini deodorant whilst searching us – that was pretty rubbish.) We looked around at our surroundings: people everywhere, loud music, bright lights, food stands, a bar that was in a tent, a token office (you had to buy tokens and then exchange them for alcohol) and the rain, bouncing off the ground, seeming to get heavier and heavier. I once bought Lozza a gift with a quote reading, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass – it is about learning to dance in the rain.” And so that’s what we did. We danced in the rain. All night. Never have I felt so free; so at ease. It was magical. 
Lozza and I spent majority of the night in a tent near the entrance, dancing like nobody was watching. Just the two of us; doing our thing. That is what I admire and treasure about our friendship – we don’t need anybody else. Just the two of us. We drank and we danced; We danced and we drank. It was brilliant. 
Like always, we had a few toliet trips throughout the night. You know what it’s like when you are drinking alcohol; once you have done a pee once – you can’t stop peeing. Where I come from, we call it ‘breaking the seal’. Whilst at the toliet, we befriended the toliet attendant. Is that what they are called? The people who work in the toliet and allow you to use their deodorant, hair brushes, fragrances etc in exchange for money? Anyway, we spoke to this lady for ages. Her name was Kate. She had a full time job as well as carrying out the ‘toliet attendant’ job at weekends. Lozza and I were quite drunk by now and had a deep, intense and enjoyable conversation with Kate – she was sweet. As Lozza is a very inquisitive person (and even more so with a drink in her) she asked her lots of questions. We got to know her and I felt terrible leaving her in the toliet to go out and enjoy the rest of my night. The way some of the girls speak to and treat the toliet attendants on nights out is dreadful and totally disrespectful. But that was Kate. Kate was lovely. 
By way of complete contrast, (I can’t believe I’m getting sidetracked from taking about the DV&LM concert to spouting and rambling on about the toliet attendant, ha!) we made our way out to the main event. We managed to work our way right to the very front! Both of us were so pleased and totally in our element – absolutely thrilled to be at our first concert together! We were dancing, jumping up and down together and singing along to the songs we recognised – and even the ones we didn’t. It was marvellous. Our two happy faces, bobbing up and down, right at the front of the crowd. It was entrancing! Next thing I knew, some middle aged woman (who obviously thought she had more of a right to be at the front than us) barged me out of the way and drew me the dirtiest look I think I have ever received in my life. I was not a happy bunny. I would not stand there and let someone push me to the back when I was feeling so ecstatic and pleased just seconds before. I asked her what she thought she was doing and I was told to ‘F Off.’ This angered me; infuriated me. Who the hell did this woman think she was? We paid for our tickets just the same as she did and we made our way to the front – fair and square. Lozza told me just to leave it and not to start anything but I guess i (or the drink) didn’t want to listen. I mouthed a few things off at her whilst she did the same back. I know, in my heart, I shouldn’t have lowered myself to her level but I felt at the time it was necessary. My whole life, I’ve had people put me down. Not now. Not here. Not at my first concert with my best friend. So we fought for the space. As ridiculous as it sounds –  that’s what happened. She was trying to barge me out of the way with her hips (luckily for me, I have a big ass and I had the advantage). I barged her right back. This went on for a while – until her friends turned up. Her words were – and I will never forget – “F**king wreck her.” It was laughable. A woman at her age, picking on a girl at my age, and trying to get her friends to fight her battles? I think Lozza had clicked on and she switched places with me. The wee soul. She doesn’t like confrontation – neither do I – but I was drunk and I was enjoying myself and I was not letting anyone ruin it. 
Following on from this, Lozza and I made our way through the crowd and we were jumping about like crazy, totally in our elements, loving the music. We managed to get to the front – again – only this time further down and away from the horrible girl who tried to fight with me. We were having such a fantastic time. Someone came to the front (I think it was Like Mike) and poured straight vodka into my mouth. I was so buzzing I got picked from the crowd to get some. I can’t remember if Lozza got any or not. Not that she would have needed it – both of us were drunk enough to be honest. 
After a while into the main acts set, I started to feel a bit overwhelmed and dizzy. I didn’t want to tell Lozza; I didn’t want to worry her or ruin her night. I think it was because I’m not used to being in crowds and being surrounded by so many people. I think she noticed though as she started to look concerned. I’m glad she noticed. If she hadn’t; I may have ended up passing out. I had, what I am absolutely positive, was a panic attack. It was a scary experience. I struggled to catch my breath and everything felt like it was spinning. Part of me wanted to get out of there; the other half was screaming “Stay Charlene! You’ll regret leaving!”. Lozza managed to get me a cup of water from one of the security guards at the front. I drank it quickly. I felt calmer now. Lozza and I stayed really close and she kept asking if I was alright. Meanwhile, I enjoyed watching her laughing and smiling whilst rhyming off all the song lyrics of the music we listen to together. I took great pleasure in seeing her enjoy herself. I wanted her to have an incredible night – which the both of us definitely did – without a doubt. It was so nice just to dance and drink together. Just the two of us. My closest and most caring friend. We smiled and laughed the whole night. That is important. Smiling and laughter is such an important thing and I often forget this. I need to begin to allow myself to feel these feelings again. I’m not sure if that makes any sense to you; but it sure does to me.
Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike: you were phenomenal. Truly incredible. Thank you for the wonderful experience, on behalf of me and my dear friend, Lozza. I would do it all over again, if I could. 


Bum bags bed time concert festival poor sleep insomnia Scotland

Bum bags & Bed Time

So, it’s Thursday already. This week has just flew in so far. Tomorrow is the day of the concert that I blogged about previously. I can’t believe it’s tomorrow! I’m really anxious and worried as I don’t know what to expect but I’m sure it will all be fine. I hate to admit it – I ordered one of those ‘bum-bags’ (that many girls wear on holiday or at concerts) to keep my things in. I really don’t know how I feel about it. As I’m a natural worrier, I’m worried it will look ridiculous. It just isn’t me. However it is better to be safe than sorry – that’s why I ordered it – wouldn’t want to lose my phone at my first concert. That would make a very unhappy boyfriend as it his him who took out a contract for me. Can you believe that I’m actually sitting worrying about wearing a bum-bag? What a ridiculous thing to get yourself worked up about. I’m crazy. 

This morning, I want to talk about sleep. I always dread going to my bed at night. I have extreme difficulty getting to sleep. My boyfriend falls asleep within seconds – how does he do it? He just shuts his eyes and he’s off to the land of nod. I, on the other hand, sit awake for hours, admiring my glow in the dark stars on my ceiling, and I think about absolutely everything and anything – in great depth. Why is that? Why is it, at night time, everything just decides to pop into my head and prevent me from sleeping? It’s so irritating. I’ve tried different things to try and help me. For example: distraction. Sometimes, reading a book helps as it totally absorbs me and doesn’t let my mind think about anything else apart from the words that are in front of me. Some nights, this is helpful, and I read until I’m tired and afterwards I dose off; other times I stay up very late reading, in the hope that eventually I’ll start to feel tired. But I don’t. As a result, I end up even more tired as I’ve stayed up so late – but at least I’ve kept my mind occupied from all of the worries and thoughts that usually go through my head – non stop – at night time. It’s not only evenings that I think in such depth; it is all the time. Constantly. I overthink too much. I think about thinking. But hey ho, such is life. 
There isn’t really much I wanted to write about this morning. Bum-bags and my sleeping routine (or lack of it). I think I’ve pretty much covered everything for this morning. It’s a miserable day. I don’t mind the rain; but the wind outside is atrocious! I have a couple of things to do, early bells, this morning. I’ll be leaving the house tentatively. I would much rather stay in my bed and keep warm and cosy all day. The thought of going out in that horrendous weather is just totally dispiriting. Needs must, right? Time to get up and get ready for the day ahead! 
Charlene McElhinney 22nd of October, 2015  Thursday  08:02am 

Nails acrylics glitter glamour

My first time getting my nails done.

Monday: A new start to a fresh week. I actually have quite a busy week ahead. I’m feeling really anxious about this week actually. Perhaps it’s because I have a lot of things going on. I don’t know. But for some reason, I just feel worried and nervous about the week ahead of me. 

I got my nails done, today. Acrylic tips or something they’re called. I can’t be totally sure as it was my first time ever getting it done. It felt fabulous – getting pampered and having someone make me feel glamorous. It’s strange how something as simple as ‘getting your nails done’ can make you feel one million dollars. It really is. Afterwards, I felt so elegant and dazzling. It was a wonderful feeling. I hope that this wasn’t just a first time feeling, kind of thing; I hope that I can feel that way again sometime. It was marvellous. Walking out of the salon feeling so nifty – all I did was get my nails done. Imagine I’d got my toenails done too; I’d feel like a Princess. Ha! You can tell I don’t get out much.

The lady who did my nails is just magnificent. She takes such pride in her work and always puts her customers first. She gets to know people – what they like and what they dislike – she makes you feel at home in her salon. She goes out of her way, constantly, just to try and appease her customer’s needs. She cares. She makes you feel as comfortable as she possibly can. She’s great. I wouldn’t go elsewhere. On a few occasions, she has gave up her own time for my benefit. Once (a month or so ago) to try and show me how to apply eyeshadow. I’d never worn eyeshadow in my life and she gave up her own time to show me the ways – it was so kind of her. Today, she had so many things on her plate and was super busy and still managed to create a space, in her day, for my friend and I to go and get our nails done. Time – that’s the most precious thing you can ever give to a person. She is truly professional and exceeds in everything she does. I couldn’t recommend a better salon, or person, for anything beauty related. 

I’m not really in the mood for blogging tonight as I feel totally deflated. I just want to chill out and be with my own thoughts, for tonight. However, I just wanted to let y’all know that I got my nails done for the first time. Exciting stuff! I shall post a picture of my nails: 

Hopefully next time I blog I’ll have lots more things to write and share with you. 🎀


(The picture doesn’t really do the nails justice; they look a lot more fabulous in person!)