DIY invite

As I revealed in my last post, I've been invited to a secret squirrel party later this week to mark the launch of a new 'device,' and on Saturday I received a mystery box containing the components required to fashion my own invite. Which I've just done. And seeing as this is officially, without any shadow of a doubt, the coolest invite I've ever received (EVAH) I thought I'd record it in the form of those newfangled photomagraphs, and share it with you … lot.

Bear witness to the construction of my invite!

Stage 1: The box! Concealed within are unfathomable mysteries beyond compare!

Stage 2: And by 'unfathomable mysteries' I mean 'party invite components.'

Stage 3: The elements arrayed for your viewing pleasure!

Stage 4: Inking up the stamp. Push down firmly, but not so firmly that you fear your breakfast bar might collapse.

Stage 5: Push down firmly on the yellow card! Again, not so firmly that you risk destroying a vital element in the kitchen/living room divide.

Stage 6: Ta-daaaa! Well, 'ta-daaaa the second,' actually, because it seems I didn't press down hard enough the first time so I had to do it again on the back of the card.

Anyway, as I think you'll agree the whole 'make-your-own-invite' thing is a pretty cool idea, and certainly a very novel way of piquing my interest (consider it, without a doubt, piqued). And I doubt it was terribly cheap to send a load of these out to people (unless I'm the only person going), which makes me think there's a lot of expense going into this thing. This is turn intrigues me even more … Only two days until I find out what it's all about!

The big question is - what on Earth shall I wear? Casual? Smart casual? Top hat 'n tails?

-----

For reasons that escape me, there's an unwritten rule at work that you have to buy doughnuts/cakes/biscuits for everyone on your birthday. Don't ask me why; quite frankly I think it's ridiculous, but I dutifully popped out over the weekend to buy enough biscuits and chocolate nibbles to knock a herd of elephants into a sugar-frenzy from which they'd never recover. Come Monday morning, however, I was shocked to discover that one of the tubs of sweet treats I bought - Marks and Spencer's coconut bites no less - was … well, somewhat lacking in content. And by that I mean, after unsealing the tub and taking the lid off, I discovered it was less than half full (or more than half empty, depending on your point of view), and instead of around 25 coconut bites there were just eight. 

Yes, you read that correctly: Eight. Coconut. Bites.

This tub is most definitely NOT half full.

A little bit disgusted and feeling a tad ripped off, I decided to take them back, and prepared myself for a battle with a customer services representative who would no doubt be under the impression that I was some sort of tramp who'd downed half the tub and was simply trying to wangle another one for free. 

Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find the nice customer services lady treating me like I'd been massively wronged, telling me to get a replacement (they'd run out of coconut bites so I went for mini Belgium chocolate meringues instead), letting me keep the tub of eight sad little coconut bites, and inexplicably giving me a random handful of small change. Slightly bewildered I took everything she offered and fled before she changed her mind.