Thursday, 10 December 2015

My Third Most Popular Post Ever.

To celebrate having over 100,000 views on my blog in fact it's now over 101,000. I've decided to post the three blogposts that have been the most popular posts having had the most views.
I must admit I have copied Valerie Poore here but I'm sure she won't mind.

In third place is... My Dream Day posted on 28/06/2012.
 When I first posted this many people thought that this really did happen for my birthday but as the title says....it's in my dreams and I should be so lucky.
 One of my wishes did in fact come true. This year in January my lovely daughter took me to see Wicked in Edinburgh and hubby paid for us to stay overnight in a lovely hotel, the only pieces that were missing were John Frieda and Gok Wan and the make up artist.  We had the beautiful meals and cocktails at Harvey Nicols. So maybe I did get my dream day after all. Thank you Karen and hubby.

So here is my third most popular post ever....

                                                             Dream Day
                                                                  
It was my birthday and I was waiting for my husband to arrive home from work thinking we might go to the cinema or out for a meal. I had been wondering why he hadn't made any arrangements with me as I would have to wash my hair, decide what to wear and apply my make up before I could go anywhere half decent. The thought of what to wear depressed me. I had put on a few pounds and everything was that little bit tight or maybe it was the washing machine that had shrunk them a little, either way I would need time to try on most of what's was hanging in the wardrobe to find something suitable. There's been no birthday card either, what's he playing at, has he's forgotten or just being annoying?
The doorbells rings and I open it to a tall stranger, oh no someone wanting me have the gutters cleaned or the grass cut but he's not dressed for that kind of work, he is wearing a smart suit and a cap, as I glance behind him I see parked in front of my house a white coloured Bently. I also see the curtain twichers wondering why such a posh car is outside my house. The tall man hands me an invitation which reads,
                                       WALK THIS WAY TO YOUR DREAM DAY .
 I protest that I will have to get changed into something more suitable but the man in the suit just smiles and assures me I will be fine as I am.


I climb into the luxurious car dressed in my demins and black tee shirt and wonder what is going on, a surprise party? No, my husband would never do that. The driver switches on the intercom and tells me to help myself to a glass of champagne and relax. I laugh, here I am getting into a car, a luxurious one no less, with a man I have never seen before, didn't my mother always warn me against doing this?
The car pulls up outside the airport, the driver opens my door and helps me out, he hands me a ticket and a bag which when I look inside contains, my kindle, good for reading on the plane, my ipod, if I get fed up reading and my purse with some money in it, no phone.
Being the kind of girl who does as she's told I enter the airport terminal and take a look at my ticket, first class to London. I knew my husband had to be behind this but I had no phone to contact him. I decide to go with the flow and get on the flight.
An hour later I arrive in London as I leave the airport I search the sea of faces at arrivals looking for a familiar one but all I find is another tall man in a suit with a cap holding a card with my name on it. He escorts me to a daimler this time and I am whisked off into the London traffic.
 My journey ends outside The Dorchester Hotel. I don't feel very comfortable as I walk inside, remember I am dressed in demins and a tshirt. The opulance inside takes my breathe away, the only thing I know about this hotel is that David Cassidy stayed here in the seventies. I am thankful for the bag the chaffuer gave me and I cling to it like a security blanket hoping it detracts from the way I am dressed.
 A concierge welcomes me and escorts me to the check in desk, I feel they have been waiting for me as I am handed a keycard and escorted in the lift to my room.
I put the card into the slot on the room door and it opens, yes! a familiar face at last, my husband with two cocktail glasses in his hand filled with sweet red liquid topped off with a cherry on a stick.
"What is going on" I say.
 " It's your birthday and you're being given the day you've always wished for "he replied.
As I sip my cocktail I go on to moan that I have no clothes with me, my hair needs a wash  and I feel a mess when  there's a knock at the door and I open it  and to my amazement John Frieda, celebrity hairstylist and Gok Wan celebrity stylist stand there telling me they're here to do my hair and put me in clothes that are guaranteed to make me drop a dress size and look ten years younger. I'm told Barbara Daly will be popping in to do my make up. I just love Gok if anyone can make me look good it's him.

Gok Wan

John Frieda
After being groomed and dressed by my favourite stlyists I am floating on a cloud of loveliness somewhere high above when my hubby tells me we have a date at the theatre, he is taking me to see Wicked at the Apollo Victoria and a horsedrawn carraige was waiting to drive us there.

 We watch the show and are taken backstage to meet the cast, it has been the best night ever and it doesn't end here as we return to have supper at The Dorchester and are treated like royalty. Familiar faces from film and TV  are eating at the surrounding tables and as they leave they stop by our table to wish me happy birthday. I feel very special.


The following morning we leave and fly home together. A really wonderful birthday, to be treated so special, to be made to look so good and to be entertained by the best is a girl's dream come true and it's a pity it was all just a lovely dream.
 It really is my birthday on Sunday and although I won't be whisked away on my dream day I'm sure my hubby will have something special planned for me, well a girl can hope, can't she?
P.S Disclaimer- This blogpost is in no way a hint to my husband.
P.P.S. Sorry I don't have a photo of me after my makeover but I was gorgeous.
What would your dream day be?

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