I’ve seen this meme floating around on a couple of blogs recently (check out blogging barbie and Brandy for a couple of examples, and in the spirit of being a bit more positive, it made me happy to think of all the ‘perfect’ things described below. It’s not a tagging memo, but feel free to do it and link back to me…

This is all about perfection…

The perfect outfit: As I’m generally pretty rubbish with fashion (I am a tomboy after all) this is usually converse and baggy jeans, but I do have one favourite outfit – 4 inch stiletto Michael Kors ‘Promo’ boots, Ted Baker boot cut jeans, a low cut black vest (a fashion staple of mine) and my AllSaints leather jacket; which always makes me feel sexy. Yes, I do wish I was a proper biker chick.

The perfect meal: It has to be a roast dinner. I actually love cooking, but the only day of the week I make a serious effort is a Sunday. Whether its roast beef or chicken, it has to have all the accompaniments, French style garlicky green beans, daupinoise potatoes, honeyed carrots, stuffing of some kind, sauces, onion and red wine gravy and of course my favourite food stuff on the planet – Yorkshire Puddings.

The perfect hangover cure: Irn Bru. Full stop. There is no competition to this sugary, caffeinated drink in beating a hangover apart from just getting drunk again. And they make the best adverts ever.

The perfect road trip: has to involve a trip to Tebay (Westmoreland) Services. Best service station ever.

The perfect facial feature: Eyelashes, I’m a sucker for long eyelashes on boys. It’s what suckered me into snogging my man 30 minutes after i met him anyway.

The perfect drink: a perfectly made GnT with Millers gin (NOT Gordons), lots of ice, full fat tonic (NOT slimline) and lime (NOT lemon).

The perfect song: For rocking out ‘Gloria’ as sung by Patti Smith, for contemplating the future ‘Goodnight Elisabeth’ by the Counting Crows and for the perfect end to a night clubbing ‘You got the love’ by Candy Stanton.

The perfect sign of affection: Someone taking your hand when you least expect them to.

The perfect afternoon: deckchair, bbq, friends, sunshine, a couple of dogs, a kite or two, music (live or not) and copious amounts of wine.

The perfect vacation: this is a tough one as whether i’m in a hostel, a tent, a 5 star hotel or kipping in the back of a car i’m happy as long as i’m doing some kind of traveling.

The perfect invention: The ‘Bullet’ vibrator.

The perfect type of wedding: as it would be my second I haven’t really thought about this, but my little sisters wedding under Sydney Harbour Bridge was the closest to magical i’ve every experienced, clichéd, but magical. I guess at the end of the day, the perfect wedding only needs the perfect man.

The perfect album: August and Everything After by The Counting Crows.

The perfect accent: I guess I have to say Scottish, but strangely i’m a sucker for a dominating /sarky /intelligent Aussie ones too.

The perfect date: Dancing or an intimate meal, something where we can share food, picnic style; either tapas or sushi.

The perfect weather: Wild, windy, blustery blue sky, perfect for walking on a (British) beach.

The perfect party: as long as it ends up with dancing till dawn then i’m happy

The perfect sport: Football (soccer to you Americans). Despite being a girl I love football, support 3 teams (little english, big english and big scottish).

The perfect thing to say: right, what shall we do today? I’m also a sucker for a man with a plan. Any kind of plan, unless its sitting on the sofa. That is reserved for Sundays only.

The perfect day of the week: as i said above, Sunday, the only day I feel I don’t have to do anything.

Mwah. Kx