By the by

Oh, I forgot to mention that I now see where the sister-in-law has discovered this hithertofore unknown love for brand of the douchebags, Jack Wills. All of her boyfriend's farmer/builder friends were sporting JW polos or rugby tops.

So once again, my sister-in-law basically changes who she is, because of a boy with terrible teeth. Par for the course. Out went the lesbo trainers, jeans and hoodies, in come the heels and skirts. She got her tattoo and wanted to get them things that stretch out your earlobes because of the last boyfriend (he was covered in tattoos and had in those things that stretch out your earlobes). He wanted to go to New Zealand, she wanted to go to New Zealand. She went bleached blonde and got a stupid haircut because of the one before that (he was bleached blonde and had a stupid haircut). So now the farmer likes Jack Wills, Mr Bunny has to drop fifty quid on Jack Wills' vouchers.

I've realised how lucky I am, that even though Mr Bunny isn't at all into designer labels (apart from his twenty-four pairs of Diesel jeans), he lets me indulge myself and he doesn't normally complain. Even though he sometimes annoys me to the point where I want nothing more than to punch him square in the middle of the face, he's always been happy to let me do my thing.

And I guess I'm also lucky because I sort of know who I am and I'm stubborn enough to stick to it. :P