I'm just home from a brief evening of babysitting the twits out in the berbs of Wellington, this meant I got the bus home. It's been a while since I've been on a night bus on a saturday evening and it was an interesting ride, which included a very drunk couple ringing the bell every minute then asking the driver if it was their stop, yet never saying what stop they wanted. A drunk man falling asleep on my shoulder. A drunk man with a stinking old tissues who wiped it carefully all journey on the hand rile - nice and a drunk (are you seeing the common theme here) lady with her skirt tucked in her knickers. I'm guessing it would have seemed a lot more fun if I had also been drunk but sadly I wasn't maybe next time I'll except the money for a taxi back.
I'm still young(ish), single and outgoing so you would think I would be dieing to be on the town but no not me I'm so glad to be home and ready to curl up in bed, which incidentally has the loveliest quilt, the only big thing I bought in the states. It's from Anthropologie and is so beautiful that I traveled miles out of my way to buy a bag to carry it to New Zealand in and half killed myself carting it all the way across San Fransisco. The picture above isn't the exact one but it's close and isn't that bed wonderful, I want.