I couldn't resist this one, and before anyone who's googled in gets humpty, I'm not an expert, so this should be read with a light sprinkling of tongue in cheek but you don't need a full dose of bitter irony for it.
I became single for the second time at the age of forty, which I also referred to as "feckin forty" quite a lot. The first period of singledom ended when I was nineteen. I can truly say that being single never bothered me for the first 19 years, they were a doddle, I am just wondering if the second period of singledom will be as long and as carefree. The dating world of the new millenium is a million miles away from the 20th century one I had experienced.
The first time I was single Michael Jackson was black, George Michael was straight and everyone had pubic hair. Advice in magazines was always about getting boys to call you or how to clean your oven or knit your own boyfriend. They never ever included such articles instructing you on how to give the perfect blowjob or an out of 10 rating for battery operated ladies toys.
I am the last of the generation of good girls. We were the ones who didn't sleep with anyone except our long term boyfriends and it took a serious amount of time before that happened. We were brought up to think that good girls don't. This was the generation before ladettes. Anal sex was only for gay men and a pearl necklace was what you wore on your wedding day.
There was no facebook, internet dating, speed dating, texting (clean, flirty or downright dirty), no mobile phones for phone sex or with cameras to send naked knob shots and no webcams for any kind of virtual and technological shenanigans. If I was going to facilitate someones sexual "happy ending" I was always present.
From November 1985 you can fast forward through a relationship of 21 years and 3 children and get to August 2006 when I technically became single for the 2nd time.
The second time I was single it became clear to me that a 40 year old mother of 3 may not be every one's dream date whereas a nubile 19 year old student could have her pick. There was also the issue of where to meet men, at 19 I would go to the pub after work wearing my student nurses uniform, job done. At 40 I no longer had my uniform and I fear I would have been more Hattie Jaques whereas at 19 year I would have been more Barbara Windsor.
At 19 I had a crowd of mates, all single and available to go out anytime and up for going anywhere. If there was a film I wanted to see or a holiday I wanted to go on, there was always someone to go with. I was never starved of adult company. At 40 all my friends were married and no one is available for nights out because they are too knackered with their kids, their job, the endless cleaning, ferrying offspring to activities etc etc etc. They do not want to go out, that means they have to get out off their jammies, put make up on, persuade husbands or arrange babysitters and then be depressed at how much things cost and how old they are, they want to sleep and who can blame them?
At 19 I was flirty and funny and I did not ever worry about what to say to boys because usually their tongue was in my mouth fairly quickly. At 40 I realised I didn't have a notion of how to talk to men and I always felt faintly ridiculous when someone tried to kiss me.
I don't enjoy dating at all. I accept that if I want the fringe benefits of being in a couple then I have to date. I often feel like I am on a job interview and if I have to explain what I get from blogging 1 more time I will scream.
So I have tried to clarify some points that I have gone a bit wrong on myself, sure there's no point in there being more than 1 of us getting the reputation of being a bad date.
What I have learned - How not to date
Do not talk to men like you talk to your female friends. Be very careful in your choice of conversational topics, they are unlikely to be impressed that you had 3 natural childbirths and that your son weighed 9 pounds 11 ounces, this will make them wonder what effect that had on the part of your anatomy that they may wish to explore at a later stage.
Do not feel free to rip apart their taste in music or the car they drive or what they wear. Even if it kills you to bite your tongue and there is a joke screaming to be made, resist at all costs. Your bitchy sarcastic sense of humour doesn't make you attractive to men at all.
Best not to mention that you read your horoscope every day and that you know what astrological signs are compatable with your Leo (Aries and Leo) and which are bad (Virgo and Cancer) This makes you sound weird.
Do not mention your ex or ex's. This is tricky as my ex is the reason I live where I live and the "Tell me why you left your own country?" chat always happens. This also rules out a lot of good conversational topics (point 1) such as places you've been on holiday, this is usually a good topic and if you can mention your trip to Paris or New York or Barcelona without mentioning who accompanied you, then do your best travelogue.
Do not mention your kids too much. They are not cute and sweet to anyone else except you and your immediate family. Mine are not cute and sweet to anyone, even me.
Some men think women who have cats are worth avoiding (sorry Lisa, maybe only British men think cat lovers are odd) If you love your cat and he sleeps on your bed, you have a photo of him as your screensaver and you speak to your cat in a ickle baby voice and refer to yourself as mummy, don't tell your date.
Don't be tempted to go for the 3rd glass of wine, in my case it's the 2nd. It may make you feel relaxed and you think you are having some flirty banter and witty repartee, the bon mots are tripping silkily and seductively off your tongue and you think you are being so funny that you wonder how much it would cost you to put on a one woman show at the fringe. This is your cue to stop drinking, have a diet coke or a water. You're not being entertaining, you're getting pissed and he either thinks he's getting lucky or he's getting scared.
When your date tells you that you are so sexy he means he is horny. Every man I have ever dated has told me I was the sexiest woman they had ever met. This is pish, I am not remotely sexy, even when I try, which to be fair isn't that often. Do not be fooled.
At the end of the evening do not be surprised if they wish to do more than kiss you on the cheek. They may wish to take the knickers off you. You don't even know each others surnames but some people are more than happy to have knowledge of you that would rival your gynaecologist.
I'm off to The Beautiful House for a week, see you when I get back.
Saturday, 11 July 2009
Friday, 10 July 2009
Powerless
I have and can cope with the stuff life throws at me, I refuse to lie down and be a victim of anyone or anything. I will find a solution to problems, make changes and adapt to survive.
This week, someone whom I love very dearly has had news that has floored them. They nor I cannot change the outcome and they are reeling from the shock. My heart aches for them, aches. I would do anything for them not to feel this way.
All I can do is love them and help them accept. We are incredibly lucky that as a family we have love in abundance, please add some of yours to ours and we can surround them in a big blanket of love.
This week, someone whom I love very dearly has had news that has floored them. They nor I cannot change the outcome and they are reeling from the shock. My heart aches for them, aches. I would do anything for them not to feel this way.
All I can do is love them and help them accept. We are incredibly lucky that as a family we have love in abundance, please add some of yours to ours and we can surround them in a big blanket of love.
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Your dream car ?
Do you think that your choice of car says something about you ? Or do you drive what you do out of necessity and not choice ? I am often rude about BMW drivers and I sometimes think that the bigger and more expensive the car the less courteous the driver. I don't like funny shaped cars either and I wonder why people buy orange or bright yellow cars too. Are they cheaper than regular colour cars ?
So if you saw a little black Mercedes A Class with a Scotland sticker on the bumper and a Grumpy Old Woman window sticker, would you recognize me ? think that about summed me up ? Not even a bit surprised ? Nah, me either.
My car was bought for me, I specified I wanted it to be smallish and high up to help me see where I'm parking (driving is not a major part of my skill set and I have told so many lies about how many attempts it took me to pass my test, I can't even remember the truth, it was probably the first though !!!!) So although I didn't pick it, I love it and very boringly when it needs replacing I will buy exactly the same again, even if I won the lottery I would choose another A Class. So what do you drive and what would be your dream car ?
Incidentally I have been a bit flighty blog wise and have written a post on another site. If you want to read it you can click here and by the magic of the beautiful bloggy fairy you shall be transported henceforth to the other site that allows your auntie to spout. It's a site about being the parent of a teen, it has a new post everyday and there are lots of contributors that you may well know already. If not, go get to know and love them too.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Things I don't understand, the 09 remix.
How can people renting my villa take the curved, corner unit shower door off it's runners ? Actually, don't tell me, I don't like to think of how people treat The Beautiful House when they rent it. I can't begin to imagine what they thought would happen by phoning me at 10.30pm in England, in what way I could assist them, that I could wave my magic landlady wand and all would be well ? They also locked themselves out of their bedroom but fortunately I could fix that by telling them where I keep the spare keys. Sometimes I think people are too stupid to leave the country.
How can it be so unbelievably hot and sunny all week making my classroom hotter than Hades and yet today ON MY DAY OFF it rains ? I had a lovely day planned, a sun lounger had my name upon it, a bikini was awaiting me, a good book begging me to read it and NAE WEANS, a whole day of peace, and it rains, bad Karma, bad.
How can I have spent £3,389.72 IN A MONTH ? Feckity feckity feck, it did include flights to Turkey, some holiday money, the new washing machine, the car service, The Beautiful Son's birthday presents and meal out and all the other regular stuff, but even so. That's the biggest bill your rubbishwithmoney auntie has ever had.
Why do I keep buying lingerie (that will be on next month's credit card bill) when absolutely no one except me sees it? Please look at my fancy new knickers, I'll feel better about spending the money on them, I thought they were divine and would look deadly with my tan, again poor auntiegwen, no one to appreciate the tan and the new knickers.
So to recap, stupid people in my villa and I'll see the unedited version of how they left my house as they leave the day I arrive (next Saturday).
Feckin weather, hot when I'm at work, raining when I'm off.
Credit card bill, Marks and feckin Spencers.
The tumbleweed that is my romantic life.
All together now, poor poor auntie.
PS - don't feel too sorry for me, it's 12.27 now, I'm still in bed reading blogs, posting this and eating a box of Guylian La trufflina' s that were kindly given to me by students.
Not too shabby.
How can it be so unbelievably hot and sunny all week making my classroom hotter than Hades and yet today ON MY DAY OFF it rains ? I had a lovely day planned, a sun lounger had my name upon it, a bikini was awaiting me, a good book begging me to read it and NAE WEANS, a whole day of peace, and it rains, bad Karma, bad.
How can I have spent £3,389.72 IN A MONTH ? Feckity feckity feck, it did include flights to Turkey, some holiday money, the new washing machine, the car service, The Beautiful Son's birthday presents and meal out and all the other regular stuff, but even so. That's the biggest bill your rubbishwithmoney auntie has ever had.
Why do I keep buying lingerie (that will be on next month's credit card bill) when absolutely no one except me sees it? Please look at my fancy new knickers, I'll feel better about spending the money on them, I thought they were divine and would look deadly with my tan, again poor auntiegwen, no one to appreciate the tan and the new knickers.
So to recap, stupid people in my villa and I'll see the unedited version of how they left my house as they leave the day I arrive (next Saturday).
Feckin weather, hot when I'm at work, raining when I'm off.
Credit card bill, Marks and feckin Spencers.
The tumbleweed that is my romantic life.
All together now, poor poor auntie.
PS - don't feel too sorry for me, it's 12.27 now, I'm still in bed reading blogs, posting this and eating a box of Guylian La trufflina' s that were kindly given to me by students.
Not too shabby.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
The Last Lesson
If you click on the photo you can read the messages, apologies for the language.
This afternoon I taught my last lesson at school. We don't finish for another week but we go onto next years timetable for the last week of term. This means next week I will be killing time so I will clear my desk and office. So today my nice year 12's had brought in party food and they'd got me presents and cards. The board had been written on too, all messages wishing me luck.
It was very strange to lock my classroom for the last time.
It will be very strange the first time someone asks me what I am and I can't reply "I'm a teacher".
Sunday, 28 June 2009
auntiegwens guide of what to do lesson 2 - Parenting - the teenage years
Da dun dun, cue scary music.
Parenting teenagers is a doddle if you've worked in a zoo or on peace keeping missions in Iraq. Most of us haven't, have some more of my handy hints.
Don't watch Skins or Hollyoaks, especially Skins, it will fret you.
Don't ask questions that you won't like the answer to. I work on a strictly need to know basis. I'm sure that's much better for my peace of mind.
Find a good hiding place for your stuff. Teenage girls in particular think that any cosmetics/perfumes/toiletries that are in the house belong to anyone that needs them. This goes for shoes, clothes and jewellery too, it is much worse if you are the same size, your 17 year old daughter looks so much better in all your clothes. Teenage boys think all food in the house belongs to them, no matter how many times you tell them that if it's a fruit and nut toblerone it's yours, they'll still eat it.
Music has to be played at 1 decibel below ear bleeding to be fully appreciated by the teenage ear. Train them early to like your music, it hurts less when you like what's being played.
Choose your battles carefully - sure where's the harm if they look like they got dressed in the dark or have been at the dressing up box. Take pictures, lots of them - in years to come you'll have hours of enjoyment looking at the cut of them.
If you put food in the fridge, it will be eaten. If there is beer, it will be drunk. If your house gets the rep of having such items you will be descended on by a plague of hungry/thirsty teenagers. This is expensive.
They appear not to get tidier with age. You would think that having 3 teens you could delegate some of the chores out, spread the weight a bit. You can try. Good luck with that.
The behaviour level is sometimes similar to the toddler phase, especially when the hormone fairy has visited, they are significantly less cute though.
What excited them when they were 5, will excite them again at 16/17/18. They love trampolines, bouncy castles and jelly. If you do a birthday party with kids games like pass the parcel and provide alcohol, you will have some very happy teenagers.
Remember when your adorable little cherub of a toddler got you up at 6am every day ? It is incredibly enjoyable to go into a teenagers bedroom (double the fun if they're hungover/woke you up when they stumbled in drunk/vomited in a bathroom cleaned that very day)and wake them up. You can bounce on their bed, open the curtains and say in a nice cheerful tone "S'morning now, morning now, get up, get up, get up, I'm wake now, entertain me, hungry now, bored now, can we go to the park ?" or any other little saying your cherub was fond of in their pre dawn years.
Parenting teenagers is a doddle if you've worked in a zoo or on peace keeping missions in Iraq. Most of us haven't, have some more of my handy hints.
Don't watch Skins or Hollyoaks, especially Skins, it will fret you.
Don't ask questions that you won't like the answer to. I work on a strictly need to know basis. I'm sure that's much better for my peace of mind.
Find a good hiding place for your stuff. Teenage girls in particular think that any cosmetics/perfumes/toiletries that are in the house belong to anyone that needs them. This goes for shoes, clothes and jewellery too, it is much worse if you are the same size, your 17 year old daughter looks so much better in all your clothes. Teenage boys think all food in the house belongs to them, no matter how many times you tell them that if it's a fruit and nut toblerone it's yours, they'll still eat it.
Music has to be played at 1 decibel below ear bleeding to be fully appreciated by the teenage ear. Train them early to like your music, it hurts less when you like what's being played.
Choose your battles carefully - sure where's the harm if they look like they got dressed in the dark or have been at the dressing up box. Take pictures, lots of them - in years to come you'll have hours of enjoyment looking at the cut of them.
If you put food in the fridge, it will be eaten. If there is beer, it will be drunk. If your house gets the rep of having such items you will be descended on by a plague of hungry/thirsty teenagers. This is expensive.
They appear not to get tidier with age. You would think that having 3 teens you could delegate some of the chores out, spread the weight a bit. You can try. Good luck with that.
The behaviour level is sometimes similar to the toddler phase, especially when the hormone fairy has visited, they are significantly less cute though.
What excited them when they were 5, will excite them again at 16/17/18. They love trampolines, bouncy castles and jelly. If you do a birthday party with kids games like pass the parcel and provide alcohol, you will have some very happy teenagers.
Remember when your adorable little cherub of a toddler got you up at 6am every day ? It is incredibly enjoyable to go into a teenagers bedroom (double the fun if they're hungover/woke you up when they stumbled in drunk/vomited in a bathroom cleaned that very day)and wake them up. You can bounce on their bed, open the curtains and say in a nice cheerful tone "S'morning now, morning now, get up, get up, get up, I'm wake now, entertain me, hungry now, bored now, can we go to the park ?" or any other little saying your cherub was fond of in their pre dawn years.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
auntiegwens guide of what to do lesson 1 - Parenting - the pre teen years
As some of you may know I have 3 children. I had my 3 children in the space of 4 and a half years. I knew nothing of how to bring up kids, nothing at all. Take heart - they and I have survived.
Tell them you love them every single day. Tell yourself that too.
Find something to praise them for daily. I know this can be tough, feel for me, I have teenagers.
Accept that your pre child ideas of parenting will not happen. You know your own particular brand of parenting snobbery. These usually go something like "I'll never allow..." Mine were chocolate biscuits and snot. I failed. On both counts.
Gina feckin Ford and her contented little baby is a big fat lie. Gina feckin Ford has not had a baby of her own, contented or otherwise. Therefore I feel that Gina feckin Ford should shut the feck up.
When children are quiet then something is afoot. You can either enjoy the peace whilst it lasts, take 5 to do what you love to do, flick though a magazine, eat a hobnob, go to the toilet all by your own self and accept that you will have to deal with the consequences later or you can go investigate immediately and perform damage limitation. You pays your money you takes your choice.
Small children will believe just about anything if you say it with enough authority. Enjoy this stage when you are the most clever person they know. You will be usurped when they fall in love with their primary school teacher. Then every sentence will start with "Miss Primary School teacher says..." You won't care for their tone.
When small children are fractious tell them it's because they need a poo. If you use enough authority in your voice (point 6) they will go and sit on the loo. This will give you 5 or maybe even 10 minutes if you're lucky for the situation to diffuse (this is much better than free time as in point 5). Then you can either praise them for performing or trying (point 2)
Like puppies they need the holy trinity of fresh air, exercise and boundaries. I wouldn't advise smacking them on the nose with a rolled up newspaper though. Social services don't like that.
No one will love your kids or be interested in them like you are, I found this very hard to believe when I had the world's most perfect and beautiful child and I wanted to share her magnificence with the world. Imagine my surprise when I found that other people felt that their child was the world's most perfect and beautiful and they wanted to tell me all about it.
It matters not a jot at what age they walk, talk, crawl, cut a tooth, get potty trained etc. This does not make your child a genius nor is this a sign of them going to be President of the world. I have taught an awful lot of teenagers, even the most stupid of them could walk, talk and go to the toilet.
Tell them you love them every single day. Tell yourself that too.
Find something to praise them for daily. I know this can be tough, feel for me, I have teenagers.
Accept that your pre child ideas of parenting will not happen. You know your own particular brand of parenting snobbery. These usually go something like "I'll never allow..." Mine were chocolate biscuits and snot. I failed. On both counts.
Gina feckin Ford and her contented little baby is a big fat lie. Gina feckin Ford has not had a baby of her own, contented or otherwise. Therefore I feel that Gina feckin Ford should shut the feck up.
When children are quiet then something is afoot. You can either enjoy the peace whilst it lasts, take 5 to do what you love to do, flick though a magazine, eat a hobnob, go to the toilet all by your own self and accept that you will have to deal with the consequences later or you can go investigate immediately and perform damage limitation. You pays your money you takes your choice.
Small children will believe just about anything if you say it with enough authority. Enjoy this stage when you are the most clever person they know. You will be usurped when they fall in love with their primary school teacher. Then every sentence will start with "Miss Primary School teacher says..." You won't care for their tone.
When small children are fractious tell them it's because they need a poo. If you use enough authority in your voice (point 6) they will go and sit on the loo. This will give you 5 or maybe even 10 minutes if you're lucky for the situation to diffuse (this is much better than free time as in point 5). Then you can either praise them for performing or trying (point 2)
Like puppies they need the holy trinity of fresh air, exercise and boundaries. I wouldn't advise smacking them on the nose with a rolled up newspaper though. Social services don't like that.
No one will love your kids or be interested in them like you are, I found this very hard to believe when I had the world's most perfect and beautiful child and I wanted to share her magnificence with the world. Imagine my surprise when I found that other people felt that their child was the world's most perfect and beautiful and they wanted to tell me all about it.
It matters not a jot at what age they walk, talk, crawl, cut a tooth, get potty trained etc. This does not make your child a genius nor is this a sign of them going to be President of the world. I have taught an awful lot of teenagers, even the most stupid of them could walk, talk and go to the toilet.
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
auntiegwens guide of what not to do lesson 2 - How not to upset people.
Lesson 2 in my handy hints to life guide
Do not forget your niece's birthday, this will annoy your sister. It cuts no ice that you have 3 jobs and are bringing 3 kids up by yourself and your niece's birthday is not top of your list of priorities, your sister will still be annoyed.
If you get 2 free tickets to go see the new film "My Sister's Keeper" do not choose to take 1 of your daughters. It matters not a jot that you took the other one to the free showing of "27 Dresses" and it's the other daughters turn. It also appears not to matter that it is in fact one of Eldest Beautiful daughters favourite books. Beautiful Baby Daughter will still be pissed.
It is unwise to mention that for the £5 you spent buying ingredients you could have bought a really nice cheesecake from Marks and Spencer. This will make The Beautiful Son feel irritated, it's not like he chooses to make cakes is it? He goes to school, gets told what to do, comes home gets moaned at, just like me, you'd think I'd undertand. The cheesecake was in fact delish.
When EBD's friend Phil comes to visit you and he on arival he says "I know EBD's not in, I've come to see you" (that seriously perplexes me, he comes to see me every visit home from uni, why ? ) It's fine to ask how his course is going (geology at Manchester) fine to ask about field trips (Devon and France) fine to ask about gigs (Download, Prodigy were amazing as were Slipknot apparently) but not fine to ask how his girlfriend is (glued to the hip for past 3 years) the glue's become undone, in a big way. Oops.
Best not to schedule a haircut after you've given yourself a "nice wee rinse" This will not escape your hairdresser's notice. This may annoy her and may explain why she's cut so much feckin hair off when you asked for a wee trim.
Do not forget your niece's birthday, this will annoy your sister. It cuts no ice that you have 3 jobs and are bringing 3 kids up by yourself and your niece's birthday is not top of your list of priorities, your sister will still be annoyed.
If you get 2 free tickets to go see the new film "My Sister's Keeper" do not choose to take 1 of your daughters. It matters not a jot that you took the other one to the free showing of "27 Dresses" and it's the other daughters turn. It also appears not to matter that it is in fact one of Eldest Beautiful daughters favourite books. Beautiful Baby Daughter will still be pissed.
It is unwise to mention that for the £5 you spent buying ingredients you could have bought a really nice cheesecake from Marks and Spencer. This will make The Beautiful Son feel irritated, it's not like he chooses to make cakes is it? He goes to school, gets told what to do, comes home gets moaned at, just like me, you'd think I'd undertand. The cheesecake was in fact delish.
When EBD's friend Phil comes to visit you and he on arival he says "I know EBD's not in, I've come to see you" (that seriously perplexes me, he comes to see me every visit home from uni, why ? ) It's fine to ask how his course is going (geology at Manchester) fine to ask about field trips (Devon and France) fine to ask about gigs (Download, Prodigy were amazing as were Slipknot apparently) but not fine to ask how his girlfriend is (glued to the hip for past 3 years) the glue's become undone, in a big way. Oops.
Best not to schedule a haircut after you've given yourself a "nice wee rinse" This will not escape your hairdresser's notice. This may annoy her and may explain why she's cut so much feckin hair off when you asked for a wee trim.
Monday, 22 June 2009
auntiegwen's guide of what not to do - lesson 1 make up, hair and personal grooming for the 40 something woman.
Make up
It is not a good idea to be seduced into a free make over using the new seasons colours IF
The Clarins lady is a child who looks like she's been at the paint box. That's your starter for 10.
You will be made to sit on a very high chair in the middle of Boots with a NAKED face and your hair very unattractively pinned back from your face showing your sticky out ears that you are still conscious of.
This child will then examine your pores with a magnifying glass and then realise your face is old. No shit, Sherlock.
The child will then proceed to give you "a glamorous evening look" This means your face will not match the rest of you, as you will be attired in your normal Gap jeans, Petit Bateau kids vest and fit flops.
The result would be a slightly more ramped up version of Jodie Harsh. Who knew you could have all the colours of the Jamaican flag on your eyes?
If I have not put you off, schedule this at the end of your shopping trip, not the beginning, it is quite surprising for unwary shoppers going about their business.
Hair
In the interests of economy you may decide to not pay a proper fully trained and experienced hairdresser to cover up your grey hairs. You may decide you can give yourself a "nice wee rinse" and save the cash, you may like your auntie be doing the justification maths - "if I dye my own hair I will save £80 a pop, 6 times a year, feck that's £480, a pair of Choo's and a cake on the way home"
You will be in Boots (wisely avoiding the Clarins child and her free feckin make overs) and you may choose a Botanics Bitter Chocolate (yep the irony wasn't lost on your auntie either) semi permanent rinse.
When you get home, you may like myself, sequester yourself in your bathroom, and apply as per instructions. It is probably not best done after a large glass of the red stuff furthermore it may be wise to avoid having a 2nd glass whilst you are waiting. Also this is not the time to apply anything else to your person (this will be covered in full in section 3)
It is a very bad idea to be harangued by your son to come watch the new Michael McIntyre DVD he got for his birthday, in doing so you will leave the Botanics Bitter Chocolate "nice wee rinse" on for 6 times as long as it says you should.
Your hair will not be Bitter Chocolate at the end, it will be a kind of 1950's Glaswegian Bingo Caller Black. You, however will be both bitter and in need of chocolate.
Personal Grooming
I can't be faffed with all this waxing stuff. However, it is summer and more of me is on show than normal, steady, I meant shins. Also I am preparing for when I am in a situation with another person that requires me to remove more than my cardigan, well, you never know!
I unearth a very old and manky tube of Immac and whilst waiting for the hair dye, I apply liberally and with abandon all about my personage, under arms, legs, bikini line. Remember I'm one glass of the red stuff down. So I am sat on the loo (yes I know this is TMI) but I've nowhere else to sit in my loo and I am flicking through Red magazine.
I am harangued by son to watch DVD so I throw on my dressing gown and go. Very biddable sort I am.
When I go for my shower I am amazed at what manky old Immac can remove. I am completely hairless. This is a look I am very unused to.
Recap and Plenary
Avoid children with make up brushes
Avoid wine whilst attempting any kind of spruce yourself up stuff
Do not be overenthusiastic with hair removal cream, even if it's old it still works.
If the thoughts "sure, where's the harm" "nae bother" or "what's the worst that can happen" enter your head at ANY point in the proceedings, stop immediately.
It is not a good idea to be seduced into a free make over using the new seasons colours IF
The Clarins lady is a child who looks like she's been at the paint box. That's your starter for 10.
You will be made to sit on a very high chair in the middle of Boots with a NAKED face and your hair very unattractively pinned back from your face showing your sticky out ears that you are still conscious of.
This child will then examine your pores with a magnifying glass and then realise your face is old. No shit, Sherlock.
The child will then proceed to give you "a glamorous evening look" This means your face will not match the rest of you, as you will be attired in your normal Gap jeans, Petit Bateau kids vest and fit flops.
The result would be a slightly more ramped up version of Jodie Harsh. Who knew you could have all the colours of the Jamaican flag on your eyes?
If I have not put you off, schedule this at the end of your shopping trip, not the beginning, it is quite surprising for unwary shoppers going about their business.
Hair
In the interests of economy you may decide to not pay a proper fully trained and experienced hairdresser to cover up your grey hairs. You may decide you can give yourself a "nice wee rinse" and save the cash, you may like your auntie be doing the justification maths - "if I dye my own hair I will save £80 a pop, 6 times a year, feck that's £480, a pair of Choo's and a cake on the way home"
You will be in Boots (wisely avoiding the Clarins child and her free feckin make overs) and you may choose a Botanics Bitter Chocolate (yep the irony wasn't lost on your auntie either) semi permanent rinse.
When you get home, you may like myself, sequester yourself in your bathroom, and apply as per instructions. It is probably not best done after a large glass of the red stuff furthermore it may be wise to avoid having a 2nd glass whilst you are waiting. Also this is not the time to apply anything else to your person (this will be covered in full in section 3)
It is a very bad idea to be harangued by your son to come watch the new Michael McIntyre DVD he got for his birthday, in doing so you will leave the Botanics Bitter Chocolate "nice wee rinse" on for 6 times as long as it says you should.
Your hair will not be Bitter Chocolate at the end, it will be a kind of 1950's Glaswegian Bingo Caller Black. You, however will be both bitter and in need of chocolate.
Personal Grooming
I can't be faffed with all this waxing stuff. However, it is summer and more of me is on show than normal, steady, I meant shins. Also I am preparing for when I am in a situation with another person that requires me to remove more than my cardigan, well, you never know!
I unearth a very old and manky tube of Immac and whilst waiting for the hair dye, I apply liberally and with abandon all about my personage, under arms, legs, bikini line. Remember I'm one glass of the red stuff down. So I am sat on the loo (yes I know this is TMI) but I've nowhere else to sit in my loo and I am flicking through Red magazine.
I am harangued by son to watch DVD so I throw on my dressing gown and go. Very biddable sort I am.
When I go for my shower I am amazed at what manky old Immac can remove. I am completely hairless. This is a look I am very unused to.
Recap and Plenary
Avoid children with make up brushes
Avoid wine whilst attempting any kind of spruce yourself up stuff
Do not be overenthusiastic with hair removal cream, even if it's old it still works.
If the thoughts "sure, where's the harm" "nae bother" or "what's the worst that can happen" enter your head at ANY point in the proceedings, stop immediately.
Friday, 19 June 2009
Horoscope my arse
I have fessed up on more than 1 occasion about my slight (but harmless) obsession with my horoscope.
Can you imagine how overgiddy with delight I was to read yesterday that I shouldn't be at all surprised if I got engaged? Well, is that not right up mush junkies street? Now we're talking, that would make your aunties wee cup of happiness overflow.
I was mocked mercilessly by my uber cynical colleagues and the office rang with peals of derisory laughter. I cared not a jot as I felt it was only a matter of time before either of the Divine Davids (Messrs Ginola and Tennant) were to hotfoot it to my classroom clutching a duck egg blue box (Tiffany, for any boys reading this and wondering where to buy a beautiful engagement ring)
You can imagine how excited I was the whole damn day, alert to the sign of any proposal winging my way as celestially foretold to me that very morning.
So I waited
and I waited
and I waited some more
I ate a lot of birthday cake while I was waiting.
Finally at 00 05 I accepted that it was some other lucky Leo that was getting engaged. I didn't want to but I did.
But I feel the Cosmos owes me a fiancee.
Russell feckin Grant.
Can you imagine how overgiddy with delight I was to read yesterday that I shouldn't be at all surprised if I got engaged? Well, is that not right up mush junkies street? Now we're talking, that would make your aunties wee cup of happiness overflow.
I was mocked mercilessly by my uber cynical colleagues and the office rang with peals of derisory laughter. I cared not a jot as I felt it was only a matter of time before either of the Divine Davids (Messrs Ginola and Tennant) were to hotfoot it to my classroom clutching a duck egg blue box (Tiffany, for any boys reading this and wondering where to buy a beautiful engagement ring)
You can imagine how excited I was the whole damn day, alert to the sign of any proposal winging my way as celestially foretold to me that very morning.
So I waited
and I waited
and I waited some more
I ate a lot of birthday cake while I was waiting.
Finally at 00 05 I accepted that it was some other lucky Leo that was getting engaged. I didn't want to but I did.
But I feel the Cosmos owes me a fiancee.
Russell feckin Grant.
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Happy Birthday to my boy
Today my son was 14. My 9llb 11 oz bundle of joy (yes, that's right, he was a monster baby, he was 63 centimetres long too !)has now turned into a huge boy.
Where I used to tuck him in at night, he now says goodnight to me. I used to hold his hand to cross the road and now he makes sure it's safe for me.
If I could pick a son, I'd pick mine, I'd change nothing, he is quite simply the perfect son for me. I couldn't be prouder, he is an amazing young man and my words don't do him justice.
He is one of my 3 reasons for everything and my heart, mo chridhe.
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
My day by auntiegwen aged 42 and 3/4's
This morning at 7 am I was putting the bins out when I got spotted by one of my students doing their paper round. I don't know who was more startled but the sight of me in my very short nightie nearly knocked them off their bike.
When I was leaving for work my bins were the only ones left in the street. I spent the drive to work formulating the crushing complaints I was going to make when I phoned the council, I was coming over all Daily Mailish and I had my "I pay exorbitant amounts of council tax" aggrieved tone off to a tee. By the time I'd arrived at work I realised I was a day early, my collection day is Thursday.
I spent the day with my nursery nurse students, they sat their final exam after lunch, they were nervous, they were very nervous. One lady cried. I had a headache. I had no lunch, I had no coffee either. That's probably why I had the headache.
After that I went to the the only mobile phone shop in England that I hadn't visited at the weekend. My "I'm not fussy what new phone I get for my birthday" son is a liar. He is very fussy, there are 2 phones in the world he likes in the price range that I am prepared to pay. Neither of them are available. His birthday is tomorrow.
I drive to a neighbouring high school to watch a recycling and ecology showcase. It started at 4pm, I was 5 minutes late, I had to do the bad mummy slink of shame in. My beautiful baby daughter had made a dress out of crisp packets, her dress and her narration lasted around 45 seconds. I was there for 2 hours and 25 minutes, there's only so much recycling a girl can take. My limit was reached in about 10 minutes.
I drive home and make tea for 3 ungrateful offspring. After tea, I put presents in gift bags ( no wrapping paper, not ecologically sound, I will reuse gift bags, one has a pink fairy on, just the job for a 14 year old rugby player) I bake a birthday cake, it is the 43rd birthday cake I have baked for my children. They haven't really evolved or improved but the weans love them.
I attempted to help BBD with her algebra but failed, successfully helped TBS with his GSCE English transition work and filled in a consent form for EBD to go on a trip. Resist the urge to say "more feckin money" It is of course imperative to my child's education and future career prospects that she goes to see "Little Shop of Horrors" Imperative.
I read NB's blog about the KoL gig and don't feel jealous at all when I realise Glasvegas were the support. I am happy for him, really I am.
I prepare for a lesson on research methods for tomorrow. I drink coffee, think about running then it rains so I eat a fruit and nut toblerone. Why not ?
I take my make up off, do teeth, into bed and blog this. I am exhausted. It isn't even 9 o'clock.
And in my head is the the refrain from that funny song about mums that says
"And tomorrow we will do this all again because a mom's work never ends"
When I was leaving for work my bins were the only ones left in the street. I spent the drive to work formulating the crushing complaints I was going to make when I phoned the council, I was coming over all Daily Mailish and I had my "I pay exorbitant amounts of council tax" aggrieved tone off to a tee. By the time I'd arrived at work I realised I was a day early, my collection day is Thursday.
I spent the day with my nursery nurse students, they sat their final exam after lunch, they were nervous, they were very nervous. One lady cried. I had a headache. I had no lunch, I had no coffee either. That's probably why I had the headache.
After that I went to the the only mobile phone shop in England that I hadn't visited at the weekend. My "I'm not fussy what new phone I get for my birthday" son is a liar. He is very fussy, there are 2 phones in the world he likes in the price range that I am prepared to pay. Neither of them are available. His birthday is tomorrow.
I drive to a neighbouring high school to watch a recycling and ecology showcase. It started at 4pm, I was 5 minutes late, I had to do the bad mummy slink of shame in. My beautiful baby daughter had made a dress out of crisp packets, her dress and her narration lasted around 45 seconds. I was there for 2 hours and 25 minutes, there's only so much recycling a girl can take. My limit was reached in about 10 minutes.
I drive home and make tea for 3 ungrateful offspring. After tea, I put presents in gift bags ( no wrapping paper, not ecologically sound, I will reuse gift bags, one has a pink fairy on, just the job for a 14 year old rugby player) I bake a birthday cake, it is the 43rd birthday cake I have baked for my children. They haven't really evolved or improved but the weans love them.
I attempted to help BBD with her algebra but failed, successfully helped TBS with his GSCE English transition work and filled in a consent form for EBD to go on a trip. Resist the urge to say "more feckin money" It is of course imperative to my child's education and future career prospects that she goes to see "Little Shop of Horrors" Imperative.
I read NB's blog about the KoL gig and don't feel jealous at all when I realise Glasvegas were the support. I am happy for him, really I am.
I prepare for a lesson on research methods for tomorrow. I drink coffee, think about running then it rains so I eat a fruit and nut toblerone. Why not ?
I take my make up off, do teeth, into bed and blog this. I am exhausted. It isn't even 9 o'clock.
And in my head is the the refrain from that funny song about mums that says
"And tomorrow we will do this all again because a mom's work never ends"
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Strange Little Things
I'm sure we all have our quirks, the funny little habits we have that we don't notice until they're pointed out to us. I have a fair few, for example...
I can't wash my knickers in anyone elses machine (even my mums) I have to use my own.
My knickers have to match my bra.
I always ask for tea, or say I'm making a cup of tea but I mean coffee, I've never drank tea, this confuses everyone except the children, they know I mean coffee.
I never use apostrophes in texts, I just leave a space. I also don't use a full stop I put a kiss in instead. I also hate to end a message without a kiss, it just seems wrong. Some friends (well, just the one actually) have their own special signature kiss ending.
I read at least 6 horoscopes every day and half believe them too. I don't like to date Virgo's either, they don't match well with Leo's, yes I know that's taking it too far.
I can't wash my knickers in anyone elses machine (even my mums) I have to use my own.
My knickers have to match my bra.
I always ask for tea, or say I'm making a cup of tea but I mean coffee, I've never drank tea, this confuses everyone except the children, they know I mean coffee.
I never use apostrophes in texts, I just leave a space. I also don't use a full stop I put a kiss in instead. I also hate to end a message without a kiss, it just seems wrong. Some friends (well, just the one actually) have their own special signature kiss ending.
I read at least 6 horoscopes every day and half believe them too. I don't like to date Virgo's either, they don't match well with Leo's, yes I know that's taking it too far.
Sunday, 14 June 2009
Reasons to be cheerful part 4
I got a new washing machine, I am very pleased about that. I was running out of knickers and somedays I had to wear non matching lingerie, shameful isn't it ?
The sun is shining again and I got a squillion loads of laundry done and dried outside, I am currently in bed in beautifully fresh smelling sheets. Yes, I probably am very sad.
I had a very good weekend, a gorgeous al fresco lunch on Saturday with 2 large glasses of pink fizzy and a really delish honeycomb cheesecake for pudding. I had great company and I managed to not make an arse of myself, not too shabby is it ?
I have been offered a fantastic new job, and it's not in the classroom.
auntiegwens wee cup of happiness runneth over.
The sun is shining again and I got a squillion loads of laundry done and dried outside, I am currently in bed in beautifully fresh smelling sheets. Yes, I probably am very sad.
I had a very good weekend, a gorgeous al fresco lunch on Saturday with 2 large glasses of pink fizzy and a really delish honeycomb cheesecake for pudding. I had great company and I managed to not make an arse of myself, not too shabby is it ?
I have been offered a fantastic new job, and it's not in the classroom.
auntiegwens wee cup of happiness runneth over.
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
auntiegwen goes to the country.
I am unashamedly urban, I like pavements, streetlights, shops and Starbucks. I make no apology for it, I am a city girl through and through.
On Saturday, I went to a posh wedding in Arse-end-of-nowhere, a charming village in Herefordshire, I believe I was nearly in Wales. The wedding was held in a marquee in a field. I am sure the setting is beautiful, there were trees and grass and sheep and I am sure that floats lots of people's boats. Sure no harm to them, if we all liked the same things, the world would be a boring place.
Not your auntie.
I had on a very beautiful frock and my favourite shoes, as you're reading this you're thinking, that was a mistake hen, and you'd be right. The car was parked beside the field, in a parking field, so to speak. Then I had to walk IN MY GOOD SHOES (Dune, emperor purple satin overlaid with black lace 5 inch stilettos, I love them)...
through a field, to clarify, not a road, a wet, heel sinking, eat my stiletto type of field.
You can imagine your aunties mood and vocabulary at this point.
The man who'd asked me to accompany him as a plus one was beginning to find me less charming than he'd previously thought. This is a terribly posh man who lives a very country lifestyle, he finds me amusing in a "not quite sure what she is really" kind of way, he has no notion of me at all. He offers to carry me across the field as he is a gentleman but I put my fixed parents evening grin on my face and carry on.
Let me say, the wedding was beautiful, the marquee was perfect, the bride glorious and there was a free bar and dishes of love hearts on the table. The music was like a school disco circa 1982, so perfect for me, and we danced well into the night. I had a brilliant time.
The buffet was a bit different, they had roasted a pig, it still had it's face on and people were hacking lumps off the side of it and sticking them in bread rolls. Vegetarian auntie that I am found that slightly disconcerting.
The people are different, the men were huge, I felt absolutely tiny and they talked about things I had no notion of whatsoever. They just seem to say exactly what they're thinking. There was a very nice, very posh man telling me how he and Charles Spencer play cricket together, I know nothing of this sport, I'm Scottish, genetically predisposed to be bemused by cricket and as I apologised for my lack of knowledge he assured me it didn't matter. he then added, almost as an afterthought...
"Jolly nice breasts though"
Now if some ned had said come up to me in a bar and said "Good tits" I'd have been offended, uber posh man same sentiment, worded differently made me laugh.
On Saturday, I went to a posh wedding in Arse-end-of-nowhere, a charming village in Herefordshire, I believe I was nearly in Wales. The wedding was held in a marquee in a field. I am sure the setting is beautiful, there were trees and grass and sheep and I am sure that floats lots of people's boats. Sure no harm to them, if we all liked the same things, the world would be a boring place.
Not your auntie.
I had on a very beautiful frock and my favourite shoes, as you're reading this you're thinking, that was a mistake hen, and you'd be right. The car was parked beside the field, in a parking field, so to speak. Then I had to walk IN MY GOOD SHOES (Dune, emperor purple satin overlaid with black lace 5 inch stilettos, I love them)...
through a field, to clarify, not a road, a wet, heel sinking, eat my stiletto type of field.
You can imagine your aunties mood and vocabulary at this point.
The man who'd asked me to accompany him as a plus one was beginning to find me less charming than he'd previously thought. This is a terribly posh man who lives a very country lifestyle, he finds me amusing in a "not quite sure what she is really" kind of way, he has no notion of me at all. He offers to carry me across the field as he is a gentleman but I put my fixed parents evening grin on my face and carry on.
Let me say, the wedding was beautiful, the marquee was perfect, the bride glorious and there was a free bar and dishes of love hearts on the table. The music was like a school disco circa 1982, so perfect for me, and we danced well into the night. I had a brilliant time.
The buffet was a bit different, they had roasted a pig, it still had it's face on and people were hacking lumps off the side of it and sticking them in bread rolls. Vegetarian auntie that I am found that slightly disconcerting.
The people are different, the men were huge, I felt absolutely tiny and they talked about things I had no notion of whatsoever. They just seem to say exactly what they're thinking. There was a very nice, very posh man telling me how he and Charles Spencer play cricket together, I know nothing of this sport, I'm Scottish, genetically predisposed to be bemused by cricket and as I apologised for my lack of knowledge he assured me it didn't matter. he then added, almost as an afterthought...
"Jolly nice breasts though"
Now if some ned had said come up to me in a bar and said "Good tits" I'd have been offended, uber posh man same sentiment, worded differently made me laugh.
Monday, 8 June 2009
The Upper Hand
My mother is struggling with Gadget Mad Dad's retirement and him being around her all day.
She fessed up to me she sent him off into town using his new free bus pass to buy her a cardigan from Marks and Spencer. Just to get rid of him for a while.
The cardigan she'd asked him to buy doesn't exist, it was a made up one, available only in her head, described in detail from her imagination. This was done purely to keep him out her way for the longest time possible. GMD is like a man on a mission if he's looking for something, he'll keep going till he finds it.
GMD went to M&S in Argyle Street and not surprisingly couldn't find the non existent cardigan, he rang her, she told him maybe she'd seen it in Sauchiehall St branch. he rang her again from there, so apologetic that he couldn't find it and bless him he offered to get the bus to Braehead (out of town shopping centre) and she let him.
He was gone from 9.30 till 4pm.
I gently enquired if this wasn't just a wee tiny bit mean and I got "Och he enjoys it, going on the buses and round the shops, keeps him out of mischief"
My mother should be running this country.
She fessed up to me she sent him off into town using his new free bus pass to buy her a cardigan from Marks and Spencer. Just to get rid of him for a while.
The cardigan she'd asked him to buy doesn't exist, it was a made up one, available only in her head, described in detail from her imagination. This was done purely to keep him out her way for the longest time possible. GMD is like a man on a mission if he's looking for something, he'll keep going till he finds it.
GMD went to M&S in Argyle Street and not surprisingly couldn't find the non existent cardigan, he rang her, she told him maybe she'd seen it in Sauchiehall St branch. he rang her again from there, so apologetic that he couldn't find it and bless him he offered to get the bus to Braehead (out of town shopping centre) and she let him.
He was gone from 9.30 till 4pm.
I gently enquired if this wasn't just a wee tiny bit mean and I got "Och he enjoys it, going on the buses and round the shops, keeps him out of mischief"
My mother should be running this country.
Friday, 5 June 2009
I am waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too hungover for this.
Last night I was an extremely naughty girl teacher. I was drunkety, drunk, drunk
Last night I drank
3 glasses of rose
1 glass of red
and I think 2 glasses of champagne (that'd be what did it)
I was at a quiz evening at school, rock n roll eh ? You should see what I turn down!! (toilet paper party in London, anyone ?)
Anyway, I'm at this quiz night, getting fairly fizzled, then I got fairly flirty with one of the biology teachers purely because he won a box of celebrations. He was going to take them home unopened and it became a sort of personal challenge to see if he'd give me a malteser (not a euphemism) and he did.
I got home and went straight to bed, only 1 round of drunken flirty texting and when they rang me 5 mins after the text I was asleep.
But this morning it feels like I have unleashed hell. I feel truly dreadful. I had to take my car to get serviced, normally I run home from the garage, today I walked home so slowly I was lapped by a pensioner using her shopping trolley as a walking aid, she spoke to me and I had no clue, not a notion as to what she said.
Further up the road I saw a woman in her mid to late 50's who looked like I felt, actually I probably looked like that too, she was a peculiar colour and had hair like a bird's nest. She was dressed in a style that had care in the community stamped all over it and she was wearing a disposable lighter on a cord around her neck. She had poked a camera through a hedge and was taking photos of someones garden.
As I am trying to assemble and process this information I turn the corner onto my street, and I see an elderly Chinese lady in pink floral pyjamas, black mens socks and shoes power walking, yep, power walking, the one where it looks like your arse is chewing a caramel. You couldn't make it up.
It is official, I live in Bonkerstown. I'm going back to bed.
Last night I drank
3 glasses of rose
1 glass of red
and I think 2 glasses of champagne (that'd be what did it)
I was at a quiz evening at school, rock n roll eh ? You should see what I turn down!! (toilet paper party in London, anyone ?)
Anyway, I'm at this quiz night, getting fairly fizzled, then I got fairly flirty with one of the biology teachers purely because he won a box of celebrations. He was going to take them home unopened and it became a sort of personal challenge to see if he'd give me a malteser (not a euphemism) and he did.
I got home and went straight to bed, only 1 round of drunken flirty texting and when they rang me 5 mins after the text I was asleep.
But this morning it feels like I have unleashed hell. I feel truly dreadful. I had to take my car to get serviced, normally I run home from the garage, today I walked home so slowly I was lapped by a pensioner using her shopping trolley as a walking aid, she spoke to me and I had no clue, not a notion as to what she said.
Further up the road I saw a woman in her mid to late 50's who looked like I felt, actually I probably looked like that too, she was a peculiar colour and had hair like a bird's nest. She was dressed in a style that had care in the community stamped all over it and she was wearing a disposable lighter on a cord around her neck. She had poked a camera through a hedge and was taking photos of someones garden.
As I am trying to assemble and process this information I turn the corner onto my street, and I see an elderly Chinese lady in pink floral pyjamas, black mens socks and shoes power walking, yep, power walking, the one where it looks like your arse is chewing a caramel. You couldn't make it up.
It is official, I live in Bonkerstown. I'm going back to bed.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Techfeckinology again
My washing machine is dead. It is 16 months old, I am not amused.
My laptop battery is dead. It has to be plugged in to use it, not tremendously helpful. I don't know how to sort this and yes I really wish I was still talking to IT God.
My all singing all dancing 4 month old streemly expensive Sony Erikson mobile phone is dead. I can only use it if it's on speakerphone, there are very few conversations that I would be happy to have that loud. Very few.
I am now using my 2nd to last phone which is a Nokia, I can't remember how it works but I found my old text messages, there were some really poignant ones, some funny ones and IT God's proposal and I cried.
My laptop battery is dead. It has to be plugged in to use it, not tremendously helpful. I don't know how to sort this and yes I really wish I was still talking to IT God.
My all singing all dancing 4 month old streemly expensive Sony Erikson mobile phone is dead. I can only use it if it's on speakerphone, there are very few conversations that I would be happy to have that loud. Very few.
I am now using my 2nd to last phone which is a Nokia, I can't remember how it works but I found my old text messages, there were some really poignant ones, some funny ones and IT God's proposal and I cried.
Monday, 1 June 2009
Have you missed me ?
I am back from my first 3 generation holiday ever. No one fell out, no one was cross, there may have been a few mutterings under breaths but everyone tried very hard to keep the peace.
On Friday I was awake for 24 hours (I know, me that loves her bed, I can hardly believe it myself) I flew back into Manchester then drove back to chez auntiegwen before shooting off again to deepest darkest Essex and then into London to see The Manics courtesy of my lovely, lovely friend NB. Click on him for the review of the gig, he didn't mention the fight though, middle aged men behaving badly. The Manics were awesome though and I was slightly sad the didn't sing my favourite song but there's always next time.
So I'm back to real life. My washing machine engineer didn't turn up today. My year 12's were still my year 12's and the smile of the day was the following conversation with a student
Year 12 - Miss you look different
Me - It'll be the suntan
Year 12 - No, that's not it. Have you had your hair cut ?
Me - Nope
Year 12 - Have you dyed it ?
Me - Nope
Year 12 student in triumphant tones
Miss, I know what it is, you've had a boob job, they look well bigger.
On Friday I was awake for 24 hours (I know, me that loves her bed, I can hardly believe it myself) I flew back into Manchester then drove back to chez auntiegwen before shooting off again to deepest darkest Essex and then into London to see The Manics courtesy of my lovely, lovely friend NB. Click on him for the review of the gig, he didn't mention the fight though, middle aged men behaving badly. The Manics were awesome though and I was slightly sad the didn't sing my favourite song but there's always next time.
So I'm back to real life. My washing machine engineer didn't turn up today. My year 12's were still my year 12's and the smile of the day was the following conversation with a student
Year 12 - Miss you look different
Me - It'll be the suntan
Year 12 - No, that's not it. Have you had your hair cut ?
Me - Nope
Year 12 - Have you dyed it ?
Me - Nope
Year 12 student in triumphant tones
Miss, I know what it is, you've had a boob job, they look well bigger.
Friday, 22 May 2009
Reasons to be cheerful part 3 of 3
Oh yes, you must all be getting mightily sick of the I'm going on a sunny holiday song, with the full 3 verses and the disco chorus. I sincerely hope that when you read this I will be on a plane having had a very large glass of wine and a bit of a nap. Don't hate me, read on and see how my life is going.
This week has been chock full of little petty irritations that have annoyed the crap outta me. Buckle up I might have a wee whinge to myself...
Sunday - my washing machine wouldn't spin leaving me with very wet washing (it's only 16 months old)
Tuesday - it wouldn't wash leaving me with a machine full of water and soaking wet dirty clothes.
Wednesday - call centre people at the place that I give £50 a month to fix all stuff that goes wrong in my house can only give me a time slot of between 8 aand 1 or 1 and 6, they don't seem to understand school not letting me have a day off the week before the A levels to stay in and have washing machine fixed. They also appear not to understand teenage daughters despair at not having clean skinny jeans to go on holiday with. Fortunately daughter has no classes Thurs pm and will sit in house awaiting repair man.
Thursday -
First thing in the morning - I mistakenly threw out an envelope containing EBD £20 holiday money from her dad, the other 2 had opened theirs and pocketed the money, I saw a pile of envelopes and put them in the recycling bag which gets collected at 7.30am
8am - at school I made myself a nice big mug of coffee in my brand new never been used Cath Kidston stripy mug, it had a crack in it and it split in 2 and I nearly scalded the head of IT who was reaching out for the milk.
8.50 am - I covered a year 10 RE lesson, I would rather do a Saturday night shift in a casualty department in Glasgow after an Auld Firm match than cover a year 10 RE lesson. On the bright side I gained a football (don't ask)
4.30 pm - washing machine engineer admits defeat after 2 hours trying to fix it, it needs specialist help but again we go back to the 8 and 1 or 1 and 6 dilemma. I say 1 and 6 on the Monday after we get back from holiday, I now have to find a kind and lovely friend/teenager to sit in the house awaiting another repair man. Also a plumber as first washing repair man broke the u bend under kitchen sink whilst trying to repair washing machine ! I cannot use my kitchen sink until then.
5pm - kids to dentist for check up, then to M and S to collect holiday money. On way back car develops squeaking noise, son tells me it's the axle and it needs oil, I listen to him as he watches Top Gear and in all probability knows more about cars than I do. I go to my friend C and she lets me borrow her washing machine and she also shows me how to check my oil, I don't need any. I am thinking I need to drive 106 miles to Manchester airport at stupid o'clock tomorrow morning and my car sounds poorly.
Feckity feckity feck.
If I get there I will be showing the United Nations peace keeping force how it's done, me the Queen of my own routine will be on holiday with the Queen Mother of her own routine who is mightily ticked off at my dad's audacity in retiring. Add in a teenager who's revising for AS levels and a son and younger daughter who have taking annoy your sibling to Olympic standards and you have the perfect recipe for a happy family holiday.
But did I mention the sun will be shining ? See you in a week, much love from your auntie xxx
This week has been chock full of little petty irritations that have annoyed the crap outta me. Buckle up I might have a wee whinge to myself...
Sunday - my washing machine wouldn't spin leaving me with very wet washing (it's only 16 months old)
Tuesday - it wouldn't wash leaving me with a machine full of water and soaking wet dirty clothes.
Wednesday - call centre people at the place that I give £50 a month to fix all stuff that goes wrong in my house can only give me a time slot of between 8 aand 1 or 1 and 6, they don't seem to understand school not letting me have a day off the week before the A levels to stay in and have washing machine fixed. They also appear not to understand teenage daughters despair at not having clean skinny jeans to go on holiday with. Fortunately daughter has no classes Thurs pm and will sit in house awaiting repair man.
Thursday -
First thing in the morning - I mistakenly threw out an envelope containing EBD £20 holiday money from her dad, the other 2 had opened theirs and pocketed the money, I saw a pile of envelopes and put them in the recycling bag which gets collected at 7.30am
8am - at school I made myself a nice big mug of coffee in my brand new never been used Cath Kidston stripy mug, it had a crack in it and it split in 2 and I nearly scalded the head of IT who was reaching out for the milk.
8.50 am - I covered a year 10 RE lesson, I would rather do a Saturday night shift in a casualty department in Glasgow after an Auld Firm match than cover a year 10 RE lesson. On the bright side I gained a football (don't ask)
4.30 pm - washing machine engineer admits defeat after 2 hours trying to fix it, it needs specialist help but again we go back to the 8 and 1 or 1 and 6 dilemma. I say 1 and 6 on the Monday after we get back from holiday, I now have to find a kind and lovely friend/teenager to sit in the house awaiting another repair man. Also a plumber as first washing repair man broke the u bend under kitchen sink whilst trying to repair washing machine ! I cannot use my kitchen sink until then.
5pm - kids to dentist for check up, then to M and S to collect holiday money. On way back car develops squeaking noise, son tells me it's the axle and it needs oil, I listen to him as he watches Top Gear and in all probability knows more about cars than I do. I go to my friend C and she lets me borrow her washing machine and she also shows me how to check my oil, I don't need any. I am thinking I need to drive 106 miles to Manchester airport at stupid o'clock tomorrow morning and my car sounds poorly.
Feckity feckity feck.
If I get there I will be showing the United Nations peace keeping force how it's done, me the Queen of my own routine will be on holiday with the Queen Mother of her own routine who is mightily ticked off at my dad's audacity in retiring. Add in a teenager who's revising for AS levels and a son and younger daughter who have taking annoy your sibling to Olympic standards and you have the perfect recipe for a happy family holiday.
But did I mention the sun will be shining ? See you in a week, much love from your auntie xxx
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Reasons to be cheerful part 2 of 3
I am going on holiday on Friday.
Where I am going will be sunny.
Again, holiday and sunny.
No hate mail please.
Where I am going will be sunny.
Again, holiday and sunny.
No hate mail please.
Monday, 18 May 2009
Reasons to be cheerful part 1 of 3
On Friday I will be on a plane going to The Beautiful House. The weather forecast there is for sun, for the UK readers who can't remember what sun is, it is a big yellow ball up in the sky, it is warm (not wet) and it makes you cheerful.
I will be having pink o clock and also my almond magnum o clock daily for 1 week.
All my coursework marking is finished and the final grades have been submitted to the exam board, cue the Gospel chorus singing "Oh Happy Days".
I will be having pink o clock and also my almond magnum o clock daily for 1 week.
All my coursework marking is finished and the final grades have been submitted to the exam board, cue the Gospel chorus singing "Oh Happy Days".
Friday, 15 May 2009
Same old Same old
My life is not exciting, maybe other people's isn't either but I am disgruntled that mine isn't. I am hoping to reverse this on Saturday, there may be drinking, sneaky smoking and possibly a smidgeon of flirting.
To illustrate to you how unexciting my life is I will give you the weeks edited highlights.
Today I have cleaned the kitchen, I only just refrained from photographing and blogging it.
I got locked in at school (not where you want a lock in is it?) on Tuesday.
I have bought fitflops, my daughters have disowned me, they feel it's a slippery slope to crocs.
My friend C told me that men(she reckons about 5) have sidled up beside her in Manchester Central Library and have proceeded to interfere with themselves. She went on to add "in a variety of positions"
To illustrate to you how unexciting my life is I will give you the weeks edited highlights.
Today I have cleaned the kitchen, I only just refrained from photographing and blogging it.
I got locked in at school (not where you want a lock in is it?) on Tuesday.
I have bought fitflops, my daughters have disowned me, they feel it's a slippery slope to crocs.
My friend C told me that men(she reckons about 5) have sidled up beside her in Manchester Central Library and have proceeded to interfere with themselves. She went on to add "in a variety of positions"
Sunday, 10 May 2009
Funny things I have heard in the last week
From my friend C
On visit to new classroom to meet new teacher, Miss year 5 teacher asks if the new class have any questions. C's daughter's friend puts her hand up and asks "Have you got a boyfriend ? " Miss year 5 teacher says not that kind of question, a proper question, same child puts hand up and asks "How old are you ?"
From Eldest Beautiful Daughter
Tom and Sarah (fellow pupils both 16/17) are going to Ikea together. They don't even have a house. What can they buy ? A flat pack relationship ?
From Beautiful Baby Daughter
Miss PE Teacher told some big chavs to get off our sports field and they mooned her. I had to write a description of them cos I was at the front. I've never had to describe a chavs bum before.
From The Beautiful Son
I'm so gonna do that on my last day at school.
On visit to new classroom to meet new teacher, Miss year 5 teacher asks if the new class have any questions. C's daughter's friend puts her hand up and asks "Have you got a boyfriend ? " Miss year 5 teacher says not that kind of question, a proper question, same child puts hand up and asks "How old are you ?"
From Eldest Beautiful Daughter
Tom and Sarah (fellow pupils both 16/17) are going to Ikea together. They don't even have a house. What can they buy ? A flat pack relationship ?
From Beautiful Baby Daughter
Miss PE Teacher told some big chavs to get off our sports field and they mooned her. I had to write a description of them cos I was at the front. I've never had to describe a chavs bum before.
From The Beautiful Son
I'm so gonna do that on my last day at school.
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Pollyanna has left the building.
As a person I would say I used to be very pessimistic, a bit like expect the worst and then anything else is an upgrade. Very much a glass half empty kinda gal. I was brought up that way. One of my Grandma's favourite sayings was "She that expecteth nothing can never be disappointed"
When I was married I always had a worry list, I felt that if I was worrying about lots of little things God wouldn't give me a big feck off disaster to deal with. I had an omnipresent list of worries and looking back they were so trivial, something that occupied my mind a fair amount was why my shower doors had water marks on, I asked everyone what they used and tried the lot, no I can't imagine why my husband got bored either. I also worried about the children to a near Olympic standard, their safety, their health, their social skills, their education, their diet, nothing was too trivial for me not to have on my list.
Did I ever feel content ? Not really... there always seemed to be something just out of reach that would make me happy, I never seemed to just enjoy what I had, it was always a case of if.
Then I had 2006, my annus horribilis, when my marriage ended in the summer I went into survival mode and in Jan 2007 I started my blog, it's great for me to read back and see how I'm changing and adapting to my new life. I think I have become so much more optimistic and hopeful, I seemed to be able to see the positives in situations where before I'd always have seen the negatives.
Yet I feel now I am tending back towards the negatives, pondering on what I don't have rather than appreciating what I do have. Maybe that is my inherent personality and I am just reverting to type but I liked the sunny, optimistic version of me better. Is it human nature to dwell on what we don't have rather than appreciate what we do ?
I have 3 beautiful and healthy children and a fantastic relationship with them, we are much closer now than we were before, I have my health, I have a home to live in and I have friends. I am really and truly grateful for them, may that never change.
But
I seem to have lost my sense of purpose, I'm leaving teaching at the end of this academic year but I don't seem to have the inclination to forge out a new career path, I simply have no clue as to what I will do in September but I know I don't want to teach, yet I used to love it. You'd think the thought of being unemployed and unable to pay the mortgage would be a fantastic motivator but nope, searching and applying for jobs just isn't happening.
I'm missing being part of a couple, that feeling of being loved and supported isn't in my life and I want it. I was happy just me and the kids but I'm not anymore. I feel this pang when I see couples together. I hate this notion that I need a man to make me happy, I am generally happy but my brain seems hardwired to the idea of coupledom. I've had 2 significant relationships in the last 3 years and I feel so badly about the way they ended.
I'm wondering if I'll ever be lucky enough to have another or have I used all my love up ?
Sunday, 3 May 2009
A Beginner's Guide to Essex and Daawn Saarf
On Friday night NB took me to see Doves at the Brixton Academy, because he is a lovely, lovely man. I'm not sure how NB's son felt about taking a middle aged auntie out on his birthday treat but he is a gorgeous and polite boy and I loved him.
The South is a strange place to me, it may be to you yourself, have some handy hints from your auntie, they may help you prepare.
It is the law that if you live in Essex you either have to be blonde, orange or have fake nails, it's better if you have all 3, they give you a discount on your council tax if you do. I truly saw a black man with a blonde mohawk, I am not making that bit up.
It can take a ferocious amount of time to drive anywhere, it took us 90 minutes to go 12 miles. This is not uncommon, apparently, this is why many people in London are grumpy or stone mad or both. There is a lot of beeping, an awful lot.
If you drive a BMW you are exempt from any traffic laws or codes of common courtesy that others may follow. You can be even more cavalier with the rules of the road if you drive a soft top BMW. There will be no raising of eyebrows or smart arse remarks from me about the men who drive these cars because NB is my friend, a lovely, lovely man and I want him to ditch Chloe's mum and take me to Kings of Leon, I am his proper friend.
You can't leave a soft top BMW in Brixton. You have to drive for an hour and a half, park in a safe place and then get 3 tubes to get there. This may account for the people being grumpy and stone mad as in point 2.
People in Essex judge you on how expensive your car is and how bling you are, don't think it works the same in Edinburgh, it doesn't, we don't do that, millionaires drive beaten up old Volvo estates and buy clothes from charity shops. This may be why they have money.
London was fantastic and I was overgiddy with delight to see The Gherkin and Tower Bridge, I actually did ooh noises and I believe I may have clapped my hands excitedly in the manner of a small child who's had too much sugar.
Doves were amazing and the Brixton Academy was my kind of venue, I loved it. It has so much character and it made me miss the Glasgow Apollo RIP.
Middle aged bald men can and will dance, some of them will even take their (middle aged) stripey shirts off to do it. Fair play to them, sure where's the harm ?
Friday, 1 May 2009
Directions to Doves
You know how I always tell you I'm a lucky, lucky girl ? All right lucky, lucky middle aged woman, tonight my lovely friend is taking me to see Doves at the Brixton Academy, streemly citing for an auntie who doesn't get out much.
The plan is I drive to lovely friend in White Stiletto and Fake Tan Land (and that's just the men !) and then we go by tube. Please read some extracts from the emails (3 in total) that gave me directions.
Don't take the A10 off the motorway...your sat nav might suggest that.
When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much. Then you're on the A121
and I replied
Sat nav !
Would you give yourself peace ! I only go to work, the supermarket and my mothers, I have no need of a sat nav, I have no life, you read my blog and know that.
I did laugh (out loud) at your directions of
"When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much."
and then he replied
yes..mmm...erm I think I'm totally misleading you...I think the road bends to the left and then you have to take a sharp right...then you get to the straight onish leftish bit....just don't quote me
So, I wonder if I'll find his house or if I'll be left wandering in deepest darkest WSAFT Land.
No, I'm not wondering why men drive around and won't admit they're lost, not at all !
The plan is I drive to lovely friend in White Stiletto and Fake Tan Land (and that's just the men !) and then we go by tube. Please read some extracts from the emails (3 in total) that gave me directions.
Don't take the A10 off the motorway...your sat nav might suggest that.
When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much. Then you're on the A121
and I replied
Sat nav !
Would you give yourself peace ! I only go to work, the supermarket and my mothers, I have no need of a sat nav, I have no life, you read my blog and know that.
I did laugh (out loud) at your directions of
"When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much."
and then he replied
yes..mmm...erm I think I'm totally misleading you...I think the road bends to the left and then you have to take a sharp right...then you get to the straight onish leftish bit....just don't quote me
So, I wonder if I'll find his house or if I'll be left wandering in deepest darkest WSAFT Land.
No, I'm not wondering why men drive around and won't admit they're lost, not at all !
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Meme, me and me again
Greetings my little bloggy chums, I'm home safely from Prague (which was lovely) and I'm now knee deep in papers to mark (which is not lovely) and I have so much to do and my house so badly needs cleaning and sorting (no change there then !) and yet I still find the time to blog (selfless to the core, I know)
Congratulations to The Edge and Mud on surviving the London Marathon, much kudos to you both. Mud has tagged me with this meme and as we all know, your auntie is a great big fat show off and compliant by nature so here's my answers. I wonder if there is anything left to find out about me ?
1.What are your current obsessions?
Theoutnet.com designer handbag and shoe porn
2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?
Do my jammies count ? No ? Probably Gap jeans, long and lean, a Petit Bateau childrens black vest (age 14) and a grey cardie currently the boyfriend one from M&S as my Gap cashmere one still hasn't been sewed up.
3. What's for dinner?
God Almighty, you sound just like my children, I don't bloody know, I only decide when the offspring start mithering me to make their tea.
4. Last thing you bought?
Assorted groceries from Sainsbury's and for myself ? that was a Starbucks mug with Prague on it.
5. What are you listening to?
New White Lies CD
6. If you were a god/goddess who would you be?
Oh come on ! The Goddess of Love of course, either Aphrodite, Venus or Isis, any of those, as always, hear me say the words, my name is auntiegwen and I am a love addict, a mush junkie extraordinaire
7. Favourite holiday spots
Places I've yet to see
8. Reading right now?
The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff, OCR exam and portfolio guidance and The Sunday Times.
9. 4 words to describe yourself.
Small, Scottish, tired and maternal
10. Guilty pleasure?
Sneaky smokes on nights out accompanied by wine (I never smoke when I'm not drinking)
11. Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?
Billy Connolly, Peter Kay, Frankie Boyle, The Beautiful Son
12. First spring thing?
White tulips
13. Planning to travel to next?
Probably Turkey at the half term break (if our passports come back in time, the saga of replacing the passports is another blog all to itself)
14. Best thing you ate or drank lately?
Ice cold pink champagne on Saturday night in Prague
15. When did you last get tipsy?
Sunday afternoon in Prague
16. Favourite ever film?
Gregory's Girl
17. First Love ?
I was 15 and he was 16, his name was Alan Osprey and he got called Ospur. He was a punk, had beautiful blue eyes and dark hair and was tall. I loved him wholeheartedly and was devastated when we broke up.
18. What do you most want to achieve ?
Total peace of mind and true happiness, I've had it before and I'd like it back again please.
Rules of the meme. Respond and rework. Answer questions on your own blog. Replace one question. Add one question. Tag 8 people.
I’m tagging:
Oh I don't like to name names, you know that, and I am a bit subversive, so no names no pack drill, please feel free to play along if you want to.
Congratulations to The Edge and Mud on surviving the London Marathon, much kudos to you both. Mud has tagged me with this meme and as we all know, your auntie is a great big fat show off and compliant by nature so here's my answers. I wonder if there is anything left to find out about me ?
1.What are your current obsessions?
Theoutnet.com designer handbag and shoe porn
2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?
Do my jammies count ? No ? Probably Gap jeans, long and lean, a Petit Bateau childrens black vest (age 14) and a grey cardie currently the boyfriend one from M&S as my Gap cashmere one still hasn't been sewed up.
3. What's for dinner?
God Almighty, you sound just like my children, I don't bloody know, I only decide when the offspring start mithering me to make their tea.
4. Last thing you bought?
Assorted groceries from Sainsbury's and for myself ? that was a Starbucks mug with Prague on it.
5. What are you listening to?
New White Lies CD
6. If you were a god/goddess who would you be?
Oh come on ! The Goddess of Love of course, either Aphrodite, Venus or Isis, any of those, as always, hear me say the words, my name is auntiegwen and I am a love addict, a mush junkie extraordinaire
7. Favourite holiday spots
Places I've yet to see
8. Reading right now?
The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff, OCR exam and portfolio guidance and The Sunday Times.
9. 4 words to describe yourself.
Small, Scottish, tired and maternal
10. Guilty pleasure?
Sneaky smokes on nights out accompanied by wine (I never smoke when I'm not drinking)
11. Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?
Billy Connolly, Peter Kay, Frankie Boyle, The Beautiful Son
12. First spring thing?
White tulips
13. Planning to travel to next?
Probably Turkey at the half term break (if our passports come back in time, the saga of replacing the passports is another blog all to itself)
14. Best thing you ate or drank lately?
Ice cold pink champagne on Saturday night in Prague
15. When did you last get tipsy?
Sunday afternoon in Prague
16. Favourite ever film?
Gregory's Girl
17. First Love ?
I was 15 and he was 16, his name was Alan Osprey and he got called Ospur. He was a punk, had beautiful blue eyes and dark hair and was tall. I loved him wholeheartedly and was devastated when we broke up.
18. What do you most want to achieve ?
Total peace of mind and true happiness, I've had it before and I'd like it back again please.
Rules of the meme. Respond and rework. Answer questions on your own blog. Replace one question. Add one question. Tag 8 people.
I’m tagging:
Oh I don't like to name names, you know that, and I am a bit subversive, so no names no pack drill, please feel free to play along if you want to.
Thursday, 23 April 2009
Have a drink, you'll need it !
I had a very stressful 53 minutes on the phone with my mother today, she is cross with my Dad getting under her feet and this is officially day 4 of his retirement. The reason for the call is that my parents want to go and stay in my house in Turkey, they go for 2 weeks every May, no problem, except this time they want to go when I'll be going at the end of May, God alone knows why they would want to inflict my grumpy self and my grumpy weans on themselves when they could have the peace and quiet,it is beyond me. I say book your flights independently online, much cheaper.
They won't be able to do it themselves so I tell my mum I'll look around for flights for her and I'll sort it out, but she wants it doing now, so as we talk I go online and find flights going from Glasgow and I ask her if they're OK, she agrees so I start to book them, as I'm doing this she starts to get anxious. She's never booked flights before like this, she goes into the travel agent and they sort it all out for her, charge her a fortune for the privilege but that's what she's used to. She's worried about how she'll get her tickets because she won't be able to go into the travel agent to pick them up, she won't rest until she's got those tickets in her hand. I tell her it's a ticketless airline, that they'll email to confirm and you print it out and show the lady at check in. I try and reassure her I book my flights like this all the time and it's fine, they really do let you on the plane. She doesn't really trust me to do this, she thinks I'll do it wrong, she doesn't say so but I can feel it.
Now she's more worried, her voice has gone up an octave and I can feel the tension coming down the phone, I say I'll use my email address and I'll print it off and post it to her, she's still not happy, so whilst I'm still on the phone to her, I get the confirmation email and forward it to my dad. I was only there 2 weeks ago so he's not had time to delete his account or forget his password (I set him up a brand new email account every visit and he still manages not to get into yahoo) but he has surpassed himself and has an invalid password. Now my mum is yelling and she's panicking her pants off she won't be able to get on the plane.
Don't worry, says I, I'll open Mum up an email account and forward the confirmation to her, so I'm still on the phone and I open up my mum an email account and make her write down the email address and the password, at this point we had to have a wee wait as she wasn't wearing the right glasses and it took a while to find the reading glasses. Eventually, after a few false starts she gets into this brand new account and the stress levels are now at breaking point. I know she's thinking that it's easier to go into a travel agent but it's much more expensive too and most people can actually book things online, not my parents obviously, but most people.
My mother does nothing to the computer except dust it and my dad is enthusiastic about it but has no clue, as I've said before, he loves gadgets but he doesn't always fully understand how they work.
So I'm trying to explain to them how to print but there is no ink in the printer (get out ! why would that be straightforward ?) so my dad says he'll change the cartridge and ring me back.
40 minutes later my mum rings me, they have managed to print off 7 copies of their confirmation, yes that's right 7.
And she's worried because the confirmation has printed in black and white but the email confirmation had red on it, will that matter ???? I repress my inner smart arse (at some cost) from telling her that they won't let her on the plane unless it's the right colour because she will believe me and she might cry.
I know she will never let me book her flights again, she won't care how much extra it costs, the stress of doing it again might kill her.
They won't be able to do it themselves so I tell my mum I'll look around for flights for her and I'll sort it out, but she wants it doing now, so as we talk I go online and find flights going from Glasgow and I ask her if they're OK, she agrees so I start to book them, as I'm doing this she starts to get anxious. She's never booked flights before like this, she goes into the travel agent and they sort it all out for her, charge her a fortune for the privilege but that's what she's used to. She's worried about how she'll get her tickets because she won't be able to go into the travel agent to pick them up, she won't rest until she's got those tickets in her hand. I tell her it's a ticketless airline, that they'll email to confirm and you print it out and show the lady at check in. I try and reassure her I book my flights like this all the time and it's fine, they really do let you on the plane. She doesn't really trust me to do this, she thinks I'll do it wrong, she doesn't say so but I can feel it.
Now she's more worried, her voice has gone up an octave and I can feel the tension coming down the phone, I say I'll use my email address and I'll print it off and post it to her, she's still not happy, so whilst I'm still on the phone to her, I get the confirmation email and forward it to my dad. I was only there 2 weeks ago so he's not had time to delete his account or forget his password (I set him up a brand new email account every visit and he still manages not to get into yahoo) but he has surpassed himself and has an invalid password. Now my mum is yelling and she's panicking her pants off she won't be able to get on the plane.
Don't worry, says I, I'll open Mum up an email account and forward the confirmation to her, so I'm still on the phone and I open up my mum an email account and make her write down the email address and the password, at this point we had to have a wee wait as she wasn't wearing the right glasses and it took a while to find the reading glasses. Eventually, after a few false starts she gets into this brand new account and the stress levels are now at breaking point. I know she's thinking that it's easier to go into a travel agent but it's much more expensive too and most people can actually book things online, not my parents obviously, but most people.
My mother does nothing to the computer except dust it and my dad is enthusiastic about it but has no clue, as I've said before, he loves gadgets but he doesn't always fully understand how they work.
So I'm trying to explain to them how to print but there is no ink in the printer (get out ! why would that be straightforward ?) so my dad says he'll change the cartridge and ring me back.
40 minutes later my mum rings me, they have managed to print off 7 copies of their confirmation, yes that's right 7.
And she's worried because the confirmation has printed in black and white but the email confirmation had red on it, will that matter ???? I repress my inner smart arse (at some cost) from telling her that they won't let her on the plane unless it's the right colour because she will believe me and she might cry.
I know she will never let me book her flights again, she won't care how much extra it costs, the stress of doing it again might kill her.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Prague here I come
Your auntie is off on a wee jolliday. I know, I'm overgiddy myself with the excitement of going anywhere that isn't school or a supermarket. Myself and 3 other women in our book group fly out to Prague on Friday. Don't roll your eyes at the thought of a book group, what else are middle aged women to do ? I do believe some MAW go salsa dancing - flighty things !
So, we are staying in this gorgeous apartment and we will arrive Friday evening and leave Sunday evening.
If you've been to Prague before and you've got any top tips or recommendations that are suitable for middle aged women on tour let me know.
Rest assured, I will be on my best behaviour, these aren't people who know the real me, they get the diet version, I'm not sure they could cope with full fat auntie !!!
So, we are staying in this gorgeous apartment and we will arrive Friday evening and leave Sunday evening.
If you've been to Prague before and you've got any top tips or recommendations that are suitable for middle aged women on tour let me know.
Rest assured, I will be on my best behaviour, these aren't people who know the real me, they get the diet version, I'm not sure they could cope with full fat auntie !!!
Monday, 20 April 2009
Back to School, that Monday morning feeling.
At the beginning of every school holiday I used to make myself a list of all the things I was going to achieve. I sat there like a happy wee scone with my Starbucks venti size coffee mug full, in my bed on the first moning and made myself THE LIST and I'd write "TO DO" and underline it and everything.
All the little jobs that pile up in termtime as I barely have time do do the mummying, teaching/prepping/marking, cleaning, household repairs and driving them to activities. You know, for me, living is a full time job. You're probably the same yourself.
All the things like optician's appointments (although 2 of my 3 children are supposed to wear glasses and I pay exorbitant amounts for designer frames, do I think they actually use them ? I suspect not), dental check ups, smear tests (just for me, don't be alarmed), cleaning the oven, sewing buttons on etc, replacing lost school kit, having shoes re heeled, passport photos, booking a holiday etc etc etc, to get the jist of this, you could probably look at your own list, I'm sure Imaverybusymum.com would have a generic one we could all use.
Sometimes I'd even start off with a few things I'd already done just so I could draw a very satisfying line all the way through them and then at night in bed I'd strike off all the things I'd achieved, you know the kind of stuff, achieved world peace (rationed kids to 2 hours computer time each without tears, tantrums or blows), found a cure for cancer (finally, Glory be To God in The Highest, got rid of Beautiful Baby Daughter's nits),cleaned the kitchen floor.
This holiday I didn't even bother with a list, I knew I had to clean the oven, I knew the kids all needed passport photos and application forms, I knew that my beloved gap grey cashmere boyfriend cardie still has a wee tiny rent at the seam, I knew I needed a smear test, I knew I had to do a powerpoint on the Musculo skeletal system for my A level group for lesson 1 and 2 today, I knew I needed a new scheme of work for every course I teach (A level, As level, yr 10 Btec and year 12 Btec, and finally nursery nurses) I knew the whole house needed cleaning and truth be told redecorating.
And now you know what I didn't manage to achieve.
All the little jobs that pile up in termtime as I barely have time do do the mummying, teaching/prepping/marking, cleaning, household repairs and driving them to activities. You know, for me, living is a full time job. You're probably the same yourself.
All the things like optician's appointments (although 2 of my 3 children are supposed to wear glasses and I pay exorbitant amounts for designer frames, do I think they actually use them ? I suspect not), dental check ups, smear tests (just for me, don't be alarmed), cleaning the oven, sewing buttons on etc, replacing lost school kit, having shoes re heeled, passport photos, booking a holiday etc etc etc, to get the jist of this, you could probably look at your own list, I'm sure Imaverybusymum.com would have a generic one we could all use.
Sometimes I'd even start off with a few things I'd already done just so I could draw a very satisfying line all the way through them and then at night in bed I'd strike off all the things I'd achieved, you know the kind of stuff, achieved world peace (rationed kids to 2 hours computer time each without tears, tantrums or blows), found a cure for cancer (finally, Glory be To God in The Highest, got rid of Beautiful Baby Daughter's nits),cleaned the kitchen floor.
This holiday I didn't even bother with a list, I knew I had to clean the oven, I knew the kids all needed passport photos and application forms, I knew that my beloved gap grey cashmere boyfriend cardie still has a wee tiny rent at the seam, I knew I needed a smear test, I knew I had to do a powerpoint on the Musculo skeletal system for my A level group for lesson 1 and 2 today, I knew I needed a new scheme of work for every course I teach (A level, As level, yr 10 Btec and year 12 Btec, and finally nursery nurses) I knew the whole house needed cleaning and truth be told redecorating.
And now you know what I didn't manage to achieve.
Friday, 17 April 2009
The Beautiful Son says no
I've put up a picture of my very cool dude with his long hair as it won't be long before he has his annual haircut, yep, that's right, at the beginning of the school summer holidays he gets shorn like a sheep, none of us want him to, he's gorgeous with his long hair but his choice.
It has been a strange month chez auntiegwen. No one's relationships have been running smoothly and the tension and tears have been omnipresent. Feel very sorry for my poor boy living with 3 hormonal females !!
The Beautiful Son is very popular with the local young ladies, he's funny and kind and used to talking to girls. He has no girlfriend, he has no want of a girlfriend and even though he's asked out regularly he's just not interested yet. He is in his last year at middle school and there is a leavers prom, now this is a big deal for lots of kids. Would my son be interested ? That would be a big fat no, he's not going. Is my son being asked right, left and centre to accompany some very nice young girls ? That would be a yes.
So my son has to keep saying no to people and some of them have cried, some have texted him constantly and girl A's mates berated him for "talking to other girls" and making girl A cry ! His every movement is being watched via cyberspace and real life.
He came in the other day and said to his sisters and I "No wonder none of you girls can get a boyfriend, you're all bloody mental !"
What advice can I offer him ? None, it'll probably only get worse.
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Strapped on a pair... twice
Yesterday I had not 1 but 2 arguments. I didn't think that was possible in a day, being the Queen of Not Saying How Upset I Feel. People can argue with me but I rarely find the words to retort. I have a million arguments written down, you can read them if you like, my written arguments are heartfelt and eloquent and more often than not tearstained. I am good at those.
Both of these arguments were with men I used to really care about.
Argument 1 - On the phone with Gordon about how upset our son was, if one of the beautiful children are upset, then I am upset, their well being is of paramount importance to me. Gordon doesn't like to think he's less than a perfect parent and sometimes needs reminding that our son will never say how unhappy his dad makes him to his dad, no prizes for guessing which parent TBS resembles emotionally. As this situation is ongoing and unlikely to change unless Gordon knows there is a problem I rang him and told him.
I felt Gordon wasn't really listening to what I said, he was just "He was absolutely fine at my house, if he was upset, I'd know" and my mind was screaming "No you fucking wouldn't, you don't know this boy at all, you don't have the first idea of what he's like"
so I told him
and I told him some more
and some more
and I left him with no doubt as to his behaviour and the disparity of the way he treats and deals with the younger 2 children (EBD has refrained from visiting his house)
and he was very cross with me. My reaction - too fucking bad, I should have let you have it years ago.
Now normally this would have left me tearful, anxious and unable to sleep.
No tears, no anxiety and then at bedtime, straight to sleep.
Argument 2 - I was awoken by a text message from the person I have just been in a relationship with. The message was about him hearing Sharleen singing "Should I stay or should I go " and it making him think of me. I took umbrage at this, waking me up to have a cheap pop at me, I tried really hard in that relationship, I really did. People who know and care about me have been telling me for months to walk away but I tried to hold it together until I just couldn't anymore. I appreciate it felt like the longest break up in history but I can assure you I tried my very best to make it work.
So instead of saying nothing as is my wont, I answered back and after arguing back and forth by text he apologized for waking me up and assured me there was nothing in his remark other than he heard her sing and thought of me.
Welcome to the new slightly improved version of me. I deserve to be happy and if you are doing something that is impinging on my happiness then I'm going to tell you. We can then work out a way to deal with this that we can both live with. Or you can leave my life.
Both of these arguments were with men I used to really care about.
Argument 1 - On the phone with Gordon about how upset our son was, if one of the beautiful children are upset, then I am upset, their well being is of paramount importance to me. Gordon doesn't like to think he's less than a perfect parent and sometimes needs reminding that our son will never say how unhappy his dad makes him to his dad, no prizes for guessing which parent TBS resembles emotionally. As this situation is ongoing and unlikely to change unless Gordon knows there is a problem I rang him and told him.
I felt Gordon wasn't really listening to what I said, he was just "He was absolutely fine at my house, if he was upset, I'd know" and my mind was screaming "No you fucking wouldn't, you don't know this boy at all, you don't have the first idea of what he's like"
so I told him
and I told him some more
and some more
and I left him with no doubt as to his behaviour and the disparity of the way he treats and deals with the younger 2 children (EBD has refrained from visiting his house)
and he was very cross with me. My reaction - too fucking bad, I should have let you have it years ago.
Now normally this would have left me tearful, anxious and unable to sleep.
No tears, no anxiety and then at bedtime, straight to sleep.
Argument 2 - I was awoken by a text message from the person I have just been in a relationship with. The message was about him hearing Sharleen singing "Should I stay or should I go " and it making him think of me. I took umbrage at this, waking me up to have a cheap pop at me, I tried really hard in that relationship, I really did. People who know and care about me have been telling me for months to walk away but I tried to hold it together until I just couldn't anymore. I appreciate it felt like the longest break up in history but I can assure you I tried my very best to make it work.
So instead of saying nothing as is my wont, I answered back and after arguing back and forth by text he apologized for waking me up and assured me there was nothing in his remark other than he heard her sing and thought of me.
Welcome to the new slightly improved version of me. I deserve to be happy and if you are doing something that is impinging on my happiness then I'm going to tell you. We can then work out a way to deal with this that we can both live with. Or you can leave my life.
Sunday, 12 April 2009
You couldn't make it up...
I met a very interesting man this weekend, we talked, laughed and really connected. He asked me for my blog address as he wanted to read me. I didn't give him it. I was being on my very best behaviour and was trying to be the cool, witty, collected and sophisticated version of me that I can, on occasion, pull off. You know the one that you show to people you want to impress. The blog version of me tends to show me at my least glamorous self.
And as if to prove my point...
This morning I was greeted by this sight within my fridge. A Whittards of Chelsea carrier bag containing 2 tubs of Flora Light with a note stapled to it, reading " I am butter, Please love me xxx"
Welcome to the randomness that is my life, enjoy, smile and be grateful it's not yours !!
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
My Mother says no
I've just got back from The Mother Country, as I keep telling NB I have to get back regularly to top up the accent. We met up and went for a pizza last week and he told me my voice was wrong ! When he reads me, in his head, I sound like a Surrey housewife, I ask you? A Surrey housewife ! would you give yourself peace !!!!
Anyhoo, I've been hame tae my mammies for a feed and a spoiling. The Beautiful Parents are very well and my gadget mad Dad is counting the days till he retires on April 16th. My dad has counted down since Easter last year and has masses of ideas of what he would want to do with his time. My parents have always said they would move when my dad retires and he would very much like to live in a traditional red sandstone tenement flat, so would I actually, the rooms are enormous and if you get one with a view of a park, it's just heaven.
My mother says no, she doesn't want neighbours above, below or sharing a wall with her.
My dad would adore a trip to Hong Kong and to travel around the far East, he loves the culture and the art and literature and is itching to explore there.
My mother says no, 4 hours is her maximum flying time and she has no notion to go anywhere so foreign.
My dad would like to get a dog, he fancies a wee westie, he always had one before he met my mother.
My mother says no, she doesn't want the responsibility of one.
My dad would like to buy a new car, the one they have is fairly old.
My mother says no, she likes it, she's used to the cd controls !!! and there's nothing wrong with it.
The strange thing about this is, if you met my mum bossy and assertive are the last things you would call her, she's so keen to please and would do anything for you. I am stunned that she's being so dogmatic about this. It was a very surreal visit, they usually just rub along together, he works and buys gadgets and she gently moans about it. I am certain that the thought of them being together 24 hours a day is preying on both their minds, I'm sure they're both trying to mark out territory and I'd lay money on my dad finding himself a part time job by October.
Anyhoo, I've been hame tae my mammies for a feed and a spoiling. The Beautiful Parents are very well and my gadget mad Dad is counting the days till he retires on April 16th. My dad has counted down since Easter last year and has masses of ideas of what he would want to do with his time. My parents have always said they would move when my dad retires and he would very much like to live in a traditional red sandstone tenement flat, so would I actually, the rooms are enormous and if you get one with a view of a park, it's just heaven.
My mother says no, she doesn't want neighbours above, below or sharing a wall with her.
My dad would adore a trip to Hong Kong and to travel around the far East, he loves the culture and the art and literature and is itching to explore there.
My mother says no, 4 hours is her maximum flying time and she has no notion to go anywhere so foreign.
My dad would like to get a dog, he fancies a wee westie, he always had one before he met my mother.
My mother says no, she doesn't want the responsibility of one.
My dad would like to buy a new car, the one they have is fairly old.
My mother says no, she likes it, she's used to the cd controls !!! and there's nothing wrong with it.
The strange thing about this is, if you met my mum bossy and assertive are the last things you would call her, she's so keen to please and would do anything for you. I am stunned that she's being so dogmatic about this. It was a very surreal visit, they usually just rub along together, he works and buys gadgets and she gently moans about it. I am certain that the thought of them being together 24 hours a day is preying on both their minds, I'm sure they're both trying to mark out territory and I'd lay money on my dad finding himself a part time job by October.
Friday, 3 April 2009
Not 1 but 2
I read in The Telegraph that having a sister made you happier
So kind and generous to a fault Mummy that I am, I provided 2 of these bounteous gifts to my darling only son.
Does he appreciate the magnificence of the gesture ?
I think not.
So kind and generous to a fault Mummy that I am, I provided 2 of these bounteous gifts to my darling only son.
Does he appreciate the magnificence of the gesture ?
I think not.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
As others see us
Lots of my lovely blog matey's have made it into the top 100 British Mummy Blogger awards,so take a bow Tim, Mob, NB and Working Mum, and lots more that I read but don't know (vitually) if I've forgotten to applaud any other blog matey, I apologize.
When looking at my google searches (what ?, I have no life, I don't watch telly and I need something to keep me occupied)) I thought that despite me knowing that my life is all about being a Mummy, maybe others don't actually see me as a Mummy type figure.
When I look at the Google searches that bring the unwary to me, I get an inkling as to why. They mainly seem to be about curse words and tell offs, Milf's and blow jobs.
I can't imagine why I didn't make the cut !!!!!
When looking at my google searches (what ?, I have no life, I don't watch telly and I need something to keep me occupied)) I thought that despite me knowing that my life is all about being a Mummy, maybe others don't actually see me as a Mummy type figure.
When I look at the Google searches that bring the unwary to me, I get an inkling as to why. They mainly seem to be about curse words and tell offs, Milf's and blow jobs.
I can't imagine why I didn't make the cut !!!!!
Sunday, 29 March 2009
Recipe for a perfect weekend
You take a blonde and a brunette (don't bother clicking on the brunette link, for it is me, your auntie)
You start drinking at wine o'clock, you intersperse this with pizza, sneaky smokes and more wine till 3am.
You do talk about shoes and boys (pinched shamelessly from a text sent by my best matey boy The Edge asking how my head was, he knows me of old !)
You laugh and laugh and laugh about life and love.
You get up the next day and by some miraculous miracle, you have no hangover, Glory be to God in the highest and the sun is shining.
You go out for brunch and the blonde manages to get her favourite Eggs Benedict and the brunette manages to have a big fat stack of pancakes with maple syrup and the sun continues to shine.
You realise that life is good, friendship is brilliant and being happy with your lot is priceless.
You start drinking at wine o'clock, you intersperse this with pizza, sneaky smokes and more wine till 3am.
You do talk about shoes and boys (pinched shamelessly from a text sent by my best matey boy The Edge asking how my head was, he knows me of old !)
You laugh and laugh and laugh about life and love.
You get up the next day and by some miraculous miracle, you have no hangover, Glory be to God in the highest and the sun is shining.
You go out for brunch and the blonde manages to get her favourite Eggs Benedict and the brunette manages to have a big fat stack of pancakes with maple syrup and the sun continues to shine.
You realise that life is good, friendship is brilliant and being happy with your lot is priceless.
Friday, 27 March 2009
Strange Questions I have been asked in the last week
I get asked questions all the time, you probably do yourself. A lot of mine start "Mummeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, where are my ... ?" or the plaintive "Can I have something to eat ?" or the omnipresent demands for cash for school trips, smart cards, sponsored silences etc etc etc.
I also get asked for advice, people asking me what to do next. But this week work has thrown up child abuse and domestic violence for me to deal with and truth be told, every time I close my eyes to go to sleep I see the faces of those who've confided in me, it's giving me insomnia and nightmares but feck knows that's nothing to what they're going through.
But as ever in the midst of all the mayhem, there have been a few humorous questions thrown my way.
Does my face look like it belongs to me ? - from my EBD. It did but she'd forgotten to put her lipgloss on
Can you be a Tory and dislike the Daily Mail ? - text from my ex's teenage son
Why is todays Google the very hungry caterpillar ? - text from IT God.
Is being 20 any good ? - a student, I don't know I'm 42, I've forgotten
If I get an A in my exam, will you buy BBD a hamster ? - another student who is also BBD's Girls Brigade Leader.
Will you tell my daughter to stop being on facebook till the early hours of the morning ? - a parent, okay will you tell mine ?
I also get asked for advice, people asking me what to do next. But this week work has thrown up child abuse and domestic violence for me to deal with and truth be told, every time I close my eyes to go to sleep I see the faces of those who've confided in me, it's giving me insomnia and nightmares but feck knows that's nothing to what they're going through.
But as ever in the midst of all the mayhem, there have been a few humorous questions thrown my way.
Does my face look like it belongs to me ? - from my EBD. It did but she'd forgotten to put her lipgloss on
Can you be a Tory and dislike the Daily Mail ? - text from my ex's teenage son
Why is todays Google the very hungry caterpillar ? - text from IT God.
Is being 20 any good ? - a student, I don't know I'm 42, I've forgotten
If I get an A in my exam, will you buy BBD a hamster ? - another student who is also BBD's Girls Brigade Leader.
Will you tell my daughter to stop being on facebook till the early hours of the morning ? - a parent, okay will you tell mine ?
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
A Little Puzzle For me
I do spend most of my life in a bemused state, I'm not quite confused but puzzled is probably an adjective you could use to describe me on a daily basis.
Despite a fine pair of ovaries (which we all know are a locating device situated in the pelvis) I quite often find myself searching for my keys and increasingly often an umbrella, I keep buying umbrellas but I never seem to have 1 when I need it.
Forgetfullness is becoming a kicker too, I know that to avoid the poly bag Nazi's in Sainsbury's I have to take my own bags with me, do I remember even once in the 82 visits I make a week ? That would be no.
But this week's puzzle ?
My boobs have gotten bigger, a whole cup size, how the hell did that happen ?
ps I'm not putting boobs in the tag's, can you imagine what that'd do to my Google searches ? !
Despite a fine pair of ovaries (which we all know are a locating device situated in the pelvis) I quite often find myself searching for my keys and increasingly often an umbrella, I keep buying umbrellas but I never seem to have 1 when I need it.
Forgetfullness is becoming a kicker too, I know that to avoid the poly bag Nazi's in Sainsbury's I have to take my own bags with me, do I remember even once in the 82 visits I make a week ? That would be no.
But this week's puzzle ?
My boobs have gotten bigger, a whole cup size, how the hell did that happen ?
ps I'm not putting boobs in the tag's, can you imagine what that'd do to my Google searches ? !
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Things your mother says
Okay, how many of these did your mammy say to you ? And how many do you now say yourself ?
Friday, 20 March 2009
Would you give yourself peace !
I know I only have my self to blame what with frankly misguided tag lines of "anal sex" and mention of peloops and google sex searches but it's getting silly now. Somebody's going to be spending quite a lot of time on the naughty step and I can and will use my cross voice.
This morning before coffee, I got an email from an unknown person and it read
"You seem like a bit of a challenge, do you type one handedly ?"
Apologies again to Shirley's daughters and to Grandma in Cyprus, this blog is going to hell, it used to have a far more wholesome tone.
This morning before coffee, I got an email from an unknown person and it read
"You seem like a bit of a challenge, do you type one handedly ?"
Apologies again to Shirley's daughters and to Grandma in Cyprus, this blog is going to hell, it used to have a far more wholesome tone.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
So tell me what you want, what you really really want
I got my first dirty email via my blog today. Someone calling himself Fit Boy sent me a photo of himself and a very cryptic message...
"You want my cock in you ?"
Strangely enough, no
"You want my cock in you ?"
Strangely enough, no
Friday, 13 March 2009
A week in numbers
0 - number of new jobs I got
1 - number of job interviews I had
2 - number of candidates down to the 2nd round - I was one of them
3 - number of motorways I negotiated to get to Richmond-upon-Thames (shut up, that was hard, it's not a major part of my skill set)
4 - number of ooh/aah/omg moments I had in Richmond (that was a seriously good night)
5 - number of total applicants for the job
6 - number of funny/odd google searches that have brought people to my blog, "my aunt wants me to dress as a boy and have sex" "grand parents gone wild sex fuck argy" "trumpet notes b minor" "university lecturer milfs" "Scottish milfs " and "get your ironing done Belfast"
7 - number of people who watched my presentation as part of the 5 hour long interview process
8 - number of hours of sleep I've had in the 2 days before the job interview
9 - number of messages of good luck prior to the interview
10 - number of hours of sleep I had last night
11 - number of people who interviewed me in total
12 - number of hours I spent at work yesterday, in a nice case of symmetry it was year 12 parents evening and unlike other bloggers parents evenings there was no wine and no chatting up.
You might guess from the tone of this post how upset I was not to get the job, it was a non teaching post within the school and the interview was on my daughters birthday. I knew by teatime I hadn't got it, just in time to go out and have a lovely celebratory meal !
All applicants were introduced to the whole staff team at daily briefing so all my colleagues were surprised to see me there as a visitor, I was shown round the school by 1 of my students, was interviewed by another 3 of my students so now everyone knows I am leaving teaching at the end of this term. All horribly public and humiliating and despite the blogging, I am by nature, extremely private and sometimes even secretive. They didn't appoint anyone to the post and I spent all of yesterday having to tell everyone I didn't get it.
I know I will get over it, I am much better today than I was on Wednesday. I haven't been on a job hunt for 20 odd years, that was also the last time I didn't get the job I applied for. So now my blogging lovelies, auntiegwen needs a job, I'm available soon, so what could I possibly do ? have you any opportunities for an auntie?
1 - number of job interviews I had
2 - number of candidates down to the 2nd round - I was one of them
3 - number of motorways I negotiated to get to Richmond-upon-Thames (shut up, that was hard, it's not a major part of my skill set)
4 - number of ooh/aah/omg moments I had in Richmond (that was a seriously good night)
5 - number of total applicants for the job
6 - number of funny/odd google searches that have brought people to my blog, "my aunt wants me to dress as a boy and have sex" "grand parents gone wild sex fuck argy" "trumpet notes b minor" "university lecturer milfs" "Scottish milfs " and "get your ironing done Belfast"
7 - number of people who watched my presentation as part of the 5 hour long interview process
8 - number of hours of sleep I've had in the 2 days before the job interview
9 - number of messages of good luck prior to the interview
10 - number of hours of sleep I had last night
11 - number of people who interviewed me in total
12 - number of hours I spent at work yesterday, in a nice case of symmetry it was year 12 parents evening and unlike other bloggers parents evenings there was no wine and no chatting up.
You might guess from the tone of this post how upset I was not to get the job, it was a non teaching post within the school and the interview was on my daughters birthday. I knew by teatime I hadn't got it, just in time to go out and have a lovely celebratory meal !
All applicants were introduced to the whole staff team at daily briefing so all my colleagues were surprised to see me there as a visitor, I was shown round the school by 1 of my students, was interviewed by another 3 of my students so now everyone knows I am leaving teaching at the end of this term. All horribly public and humiliating and despite the blogging, I am by nature, extremely private and sometimes even secretive. They didn't appoint anyone to the post and I spent all of yesterday having to tell everyone I didn't get it.
I know I will get over it, I am much better today than I was on Wednesday. I haven't been on a job hunt for 20 odd years, that was also the last time I didn't get the job I applied for. So now my blogging lovelies, auntiegwen needs a job, I'm available soon, so what could I possibly do ? have you any opportunities for an auntie?
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
How the hell did that happen ?
Seventeen years ago today, I began my real career, as a Mummy, it's the one I've enjoyed the most and the one in which my achievements mean the most.
One minute I was in the labour ward gazing into my newborn baby daughters eyes and the proud daddy was saying " I can't believe it was that quick and that easy" yes, he indeedily did, oh there's plenty more where that came from and then the next minute she was 17.
This is the 3rd birthday blog I have written for her and she remains a daily delight. She is as enthusiatic and distractable as when she was 3 and still claps her hands in glee when something good happens. One of my favourite memories is of her magic finger, she used to think her index finger on her right hand could do anything, in the car she would wave it to make the car go faster and we'd drive quicker and to make the rain stop and the sun come out and if her magic finger didn't work, she'd look at it thoughtfully and announce "it must've run out of batteries"
Just after I found out I was pregnant, Gordon and I were on a beach and we watched a beautiful little girl around 18 months old playing in the sand. She had dark curly hair peeking our from under a sun bonnet and we said, ooh, we want one just that and we got one, even more beautiful. We said we hoped to give her the best of everything and I hope as she grows up she realises that materially she may not have had the best of everything but emotionally she did.
She is my beautiful shining star, one of the main reasons I get up every morning and my heart, mo chridhe.
One minute I was in the labour ward gazing into my newborn baby daughters eyes and the proud daddy was saying " I can't believe it was that quick and that easy" yes, he indeedily did, oh there's plenty more where that came from and then the next minute she was 17.
This is the 3rd birthday blog I have written for her and she remains a daily delight. She is as enthusiatic and distractable as when she was 3 and still claps her hands in glee when something good happens. One of my favourite memories is of her magic finger, she used to think her index finger on her right hand could do anything, in the car she would wave it to make the car go faster and we'd drive quicker and to make the rain stop and the sun come out and if her magic finger didn't work, she'd look at it thoughtfully and announce "it must've run out of batteries"
Just after I found out I was pregnant, Gordon and I were on a beach and we watched a beautiful little girl around 18 months old playing in the sand. She had dark curly hair peeking our from under a sun bonnet and we said, ooh, we want one just that and we got one, even more beautiful. We said we hoped to give her the best of everything and I hope as she grows up she realises that materially she may not have had the best of everything but emotionally she did.
She is my beautiful shining star, one of the main reasons I get up every morning and my heart, mo chridhe.
Friday, 6 March 2009
Product review, anyone ?
I've just started getting spam emails, I get a lot of very earnest Africans needing my assistance on withdrawing their money from their bank via my bank, I apparently am the next of kin of a respected businessman who died in a plane crash in Burkina Faso, funny that the respected businessman I am next of kin to was alive and well this very morning and I know my memory is not what it was but if I've slipped up and gone and gotten married again I can think of 2 men who are going to be quite cross with me.
I have also been offered quite a lot of viagra but this very day I've just been offered a product review for my blog, ooh thinks the auntie, wouldn't that be gas if it was shoes or lipgloss? I could give up teaching and tippy tappy type my way through the merits of double strapped Mary-Janes against the original single strapped or happily spend hours snogging people to see if the long last lipgloss is totally kissproof.
Unfortunately, I am unable to take up this fantastic free offer due to me not having the correct equipment but any of my fellow bloggers who have and would like to review this new product please click here
Make sure you let Mr Omar Long, the company owner know that auntiegwen sent you.
I have also been offered quite a lot of viagra but this very day I've just been offered a product review for my blog, ooh thinks the auntie, wouldn't that be gas if it was shoes or lipgloss? I could give up teaching and tippy tappy type my way through the merits of double strapped Mary-Janes against the original single strapped or happily spend hours snogging people to see if the long last lipgloss is totally kissproof.
Unfortunately, I am unable to take up this fantastic free offer due to me not having the correct equipment but any of my fellow bloggers who have and would like to review this new product please click here
Make sure you let Mr Omar Long, the company owner know that auntiegwen sent you.
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
Things I Never Thought I'd Say
In a lesson on the anatomy and physiology of the digestive system
AG - in a questioning tone " Function of the anus ?"
Year 13 student trying hard to contain laughter "bum sex ?"
AG - "For the purposes of passing your A level, sexual pleasure would not be a function of the anus. You wouldn't get a mark for that. Biologically speaking, it is a one way street.
AG - in a questioning tone " Function of the anus ?"
Year 13 student trying hard to contain laughter "bum sex ?"
AG - "For the purposes of passing your A level, sexual pleasure would not be a function of the anus. You wouldn't get a mark for that. Biologically speaking, it is a one way street.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
As others see you
Now I'm the first to admit that as a teenager my dress sense verged on the adventurous, my mammy was mortified on a daily basis by the cut of my jib. But now, grown up (stop laughing or you'll go on the naughty step) teachery auntiegwen looks like a grown up teacher at her work. I do so.
We have a new teacher covering a maternity leave at our school. I cannot see this man without dissolving into snorts and peals of laughter, I mean the real deal, I've had 3 children and my pelvic floor's not what it was type of laughter. I am not the only member of staff to feel this way, you can always tell when he's entered the staff room just by the suppressed laughter.He looks like he got dressed in the dark. I am no longer allowed to go to the daily staff briefings because I cannot control myself and make a holy show of our department.
I so wish I could take a photo but I will try and make do with words.
He is of indeterminate age, could be anywhere from mid 30's to 40's
Around 5 feet 7
Black hair, none on top, just around the edges, it's slicked with brylcream or some such unguent, it's very shiny.
He is like an Easter egg with legs, that shape.
But it's the clothes, I feel so mean laughing but Holy Mary Mother of God, I've never seen the cut of anything like it, but in our school ? Where American tan tights and Farah slacks are sent to die.
Every day he wears and I mean every day (we all look out for him and email each other when we've got his daily dress report)
tight black trousers that end 2 inches above his ankle
a belt that says "God" on the buckle
Cuban heeled boots at least 2 or 3 inches high
but the piece de resistance, are you ready ? can you take it ?
Satin shirts, yep, you read right, they are satin with quite a full bell effect sleeve and he has a powerful number of them, I have spotted lilac, red, tangerine, mustard yellow and a electric BLUE one, yep it wasn't blue it was BLUE. When he does playground duty and it's cold he tops off this ensemble with a duffel coat.
And round the school he goes, not a bother on him,like a refugee from Strictly Come Dancing, God love him. I kind of expect him to start doing a Paso Doble in the corridor, or to click his heels together and swish his duffel coat like a matadors cape. I'm sure he's worth getting to know, it takes a certain strength of character to dress so bizarrely and when I can stop laughing I'm going to see if he wants to be friends.
We have a new teacher covering a maternity leave at our school. I cannot see this man without dissolving into snorts and peals of laughter, I mean the real deal, I've had 3 children and my pelvic floor's not what it was type of laughter. I am not the only member of staff to feel this way, you can always tell when he's entered the staff room just by the suppressed laughter.He looks like he got dressed in the dark. I am no longer allowed to go to the daily staff briefings because I cannot control myself and make a holy show of our department.
I so wish I could take a photo but I will try and make do with words.
He is of indeterminate age, could be anywhere from mid 30's to 40's
Around 5 feet 7
Black hair, none on top, just around the edges, it's slicked with brylcream or some such unguent, it's very shiny.
He is like an Easter egg with legs, that shape.
But it's the clothes, I feel so mean laughing but Holy Mary Mother of God, I've never seen the cut of anything like it, but in our school ? Where American tan tights and Farah slacks are sent to die.
Every day he wears and I mean every day (we all look out for him and email each other when we've got his daily dress report)
tight black trousers that end 2 inches above his ankle
a belt that says "God" on the buckle
Cuban heeled boots at least 2 or 3 inches high
but the piece de resistance, are you ready ? can you take it ?
Satin shirts, yep, you read right, they are satin with quite a full bell effect sleeve and he has a powerful number of them, I have spotted lilac, red, tangerine, mustard yellow and a electric BLUE one, yep it wasn't blue it was BLUE. When he does playground duty and it's cold he tops off this ensemble with a duffel coat.
And round the school he goes, not a bother on him,like a refugee from Strictly Come Dancing, God love him. I kind of expect him to start doing a Paso Doble in the corridor, or to click his heels together and swish his duffel coat like a matadors cape. I'm sure he's worth getting to know, it takes a certain strength of character to dress so bizarrely and when I can stop laughing I'm going to see if he wants to be friends.
Saturday, 28 February 2009
26 - 6
A very good afternoon for your auntie. The Beautiful Son and myself watching the rugby. I need him with me as he explains every touch of the ball to me, I don't get it otherwise. Scotland won and so did Ireland. I have a strict preference in who I support, it goes like this
Scotland - because I'm Scottish
Ireland - because my mammy is Irish
France - because I love France (and Chabal and Szarzewski aren't too shabby)
Wales - because they're Celtic
I cannot support any other teams, so give out to me if you like, I know I live in England but I can't and won't support them and if that makes me a bad person so be it.
But what a day for me, my fave 2 teams winning and Ireland still on for the grand slam. I have lost my voice, I have screamed and I mean screamed like the big fat girl I am all afternoon. If you've been with me for a while, you'll know I have an irrational prejudice against Italians, I can't help it, okay I don't want to help it, I hate the feckers.
I really hated them last year with that wee fecker and his drop goal 40 seconds from time, but today was glorious, 26-6 and Simon Danelli and his beautiful try. I am so happy.
Scotland - because I'm Scottish
Ireland - because my mammy is Irish
France - because I love France (and Chabal and Szarzewski aren't too shabby)
Wales - because they're Celtic
I cannot support any other teams, so give out to me if you like, I know I live in England but I can't and won't support them and if that makes me a bad person so be it.
But what a day for me, my fave 2 teams winning and Ireland still on for the grand slam. I have lost my voice, I have screamed and I mean screamed like the big fat girl I am all afternoon. If you've been with me for a while, you'll know I have an irrational prejudice against Italians, I can't help it, okay I don't want to help it, I hate the feckers.
I really hated them last year with that wee fecker and his drop goal 40 seconds from time, but today was glorious, 26-6 and Simon Danelli and his beautiful try. I am so happy.
Friday, 27 February 2009
Things I have found out
Learning to cook and type would have been much more useful to me in life than knowing the chemical formula for potassium and how to calculate the area of a triangle. The cooking and the typing I have to do daily, needing to recite the periodic table, algebra, trigafeckinometry or geometry, em that would be never in the 25 feckin years since I left school. Guidance teacher, too bright for food and nutrition and secretarial studies ? my arse.
Why was I so keen to leave home and have my own place ? what I wouldn't give to have a daily cleaning, laundry, cooking, fridge filling, cash point and taxi service now. Mammy, I'm sorry I was a heart scald to you, you were right, I didn't know I was born (translation how lucky I was)
Anti wrinkle creams whether they cost £10 or £100 do not remove wrinkles. Baking yourself in Ambre Solaire oil (in the brown bottle) may have been the kicker there. I can honestly remember thinking I'd rather be brown now and to hell with when I'm 40... not so happy about my choices now.
Teenage boys are incredibly good at fixing things if you let them have a go. This saves you quite a lot of money. Ciaran fixed my cupboard door, Alex my leaking radiator and joecryor the outside light and the printer. When these boys go to uni next year I'm getting married again, I have a year to find a man and make him propose, don't tell him about the failed grown up stuff or the weans, let him think I'm normal first, I do a good first impression and I'll lure him into a false sense of security. I know it's not pretty or ethical, it's survival.
Love doesn't conquer all, even if you both love each other, you may not be good for each other. I can't love someone enough to make it all better, I used to think I could.
Having 3 children in 4 and a half years may not have been one of my better ideas, it was tough enough when they were younger and needed so much care, I have now realised that I might have a year where all 3 of them are at University and how will I fund that ? Answers on a postcard please or email auntiegwen@iamfeckinskint.com
The 3rd glass makes me sick, repeat to fade...
Why was I so keen to leave home and have my own place ? what I wouldn't give to have a daily cleaning, laundry, cooking, fridge filling, cash point and taxi service now. Mammy, I'm sorry I was a heart scald to you, you were right, I didn't know I was born (translation how lucky I was)
Anti wrinkle creams whether they cost £10 or £100 do not remove wrinkles. Baking yourself in Ambre Solaire oil (in the brown bottle) may have been the kicker there. I can honestly remember thinking I'd rather be brown now and to hell with when I'm 40... not so happy about my choices now.
Teenage boys are incredibly good at fixing things if you let them have a go. This saves you quite a lot of money. Ciaran fixed my cupboard door, Alex my leaking radiator and joecryor the outside light and the printer. When these boys go to uni next year I'm getting married again, I have a year to find a man and make him propose, don't tell him about the failed grown up stuff or the weans, let him think I'm normal first, I do a good first impression and I'll lure him into a false sense of security. I know it's not pretty or ethical, it's survival.
Love doesn't conquer all, even if you both love each other, you may not be good for each other. I can't love someone enough to make it all better, I used to think I could.
Having 3 children in 4 and a half years may not have been one of my better ideas, it was tough enough when they were younger and needed so much care, I have now realised that I might have a year where all 3 of them are at University and how will I fund that ? Answers on a postcard please or email auntiegwen@iamfeckinskint.com
The 3rd glass makes me sick, repeat to fade...
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Addictions and Awards
Your auntie has had a wee bit bling bestowed upon her by the very facinating with a fascinator Flick at Dusting Spiders.
I have to tell you of my 5 addictions, there are lots of things in my life I adore but these are things (not people) that I could not bear to have in my life daily.
The Internet - I spend way too much time online, blogging, emailing, researching work stuff etc, I read loads of horoscopes too, I know I'm a sad article.
Coffee - I drink way too much, at home it's instant Marks and Spencer Fairtrade gold roast. In Starbucks it's venti skinny latte with cinnamon on or in summer venti coffee light frappucino. I am overly happy if someone else makes it for me.
Love - completely and utterly, my name is auntiegwen and I am a big fat love junkie.
Reading - my mammy taught me when I was 3 and I've never given up reading, can always be found with at least 2 books on the go and love my book group. At present reading Marian Keyes "This Charming Man" Fiona Neill "The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy" and I should be reading the Barak Obama autobiographies as book group is on the 4th and I've to read both of his !
High heels - I always wear high heels, every single day, I do not possess a pair of flat shoes. This is because I am tiny, about 5 foot 3, but strangely I only seem to date tall men. Only once have I dated someone less than 6 foot. So I am completely addicted to my heels, I have been known to photograph new ones on my phone, I even show them to people, much to their bemusement. I can give good shoe porn should you be interested...
So my lovelies, I can't pick 5 of you, I don't want to hurt anyones feelings, so feel free to do the tag and take the bling because I love reading all your blogs.
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Bite Size Belfast
Despite the fact I have had only about 5 hours sleep in the last 2 days I am a happy and contented auntie.
Belfast was lovely, small, friendly and easy to get round, my kind of place. We did a fair old bit of the eating and the drinking and the sightseeing. We went to the Shankhill Road ( very protestant and British) and the Falls Road (very Catholic and Irish) to see some of the murals and I've taken masses of pictures of them but have restrained myself from posting them all.
To get from Shankhill Road to Falls Road we walked along Northumberland Avenue, which looks like a very nondescript road bordering industrial units. The thing that makes this one different is the fact that it has 50 feet high impenetrable metal gates with barbed wire atop which are used to separate the Shankhill from the Falls during the marching season. They regularly have to close the road to stop the 2 estates fighting. This may seem incredulous to some readers but in Belfast, Catholics and Protestants still fight over religion.
Coming from Glasgow as I do, I am well aware of bigotry and it's a very strange thing to try and explain and comprehend. I grew up Catholic but married a Protestant and I had to change faith. I have no wish to offend anyone's beliefs so I've tried to be careful what images I show. It was an unsettling walk
After a lovely Starbucks visit, where they gave us free have a drink on us vouchers to come back, how good is that ? We spent a wee whiley exploring the University quarter, which is really lovely, great little bars, restaurants and cafes and of course the very beautiful Queens University.
Quick shower and change then out for the evening. Many thanks to The Dotterell for this tip
And then on to the real reason for the visit
When I got home I found children all well, ex husband had done the ironing and had made me a pot of soup and I'd had a delivery when I was away.
So to my lovely friend, who sent me these flowers because they knew I've been down and having a hard time, I thank you most sincerely. My friends are the best and I do appreciate it. Like I always say, I AM a lucky, lucky girl.
Friday, 20 February 2009
Belfast
Tomorrow I will get up at stupid o'clock and fly with Robbinbastards air (apologies to Grandma in Cyprus and anyone else's mother or to Shirley's daughter's who may be offended by the language)
This will all be worth it as your auntie is off on a wee jolliday to Belfast. I am STREEMLY CITED about this as whilst I am there, I will go and see The Mighty Killers once again. You bet your sweet ass, I will stand up and dance !
Didn't I always tell you I'm a lucky, lucky girl ?
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Room 101 - the updated 2009 version
One of my very first posts was about my room 101. 2 years on I actually feel the same, glad to know my irrational prejudices are still simmering away, it's a comforting thought that some things remain the same in an ever changing world. This was my 2007 Room 101
Clarks Shoe Shop
Anything from the week before to the day before a new term starts, these shops are transformed into the 7th circle of hell. You arrive and take a ticket and wait for your number to be called, this can take anything up to an hour. Meanwhile the place is full of pissed off parents and bored, fidgety and sometimes screaming children. Eventually your turn comes and your child is taken to the machine to have their feet measured. When the assistant asks your child which shoes they would like you resist the urge to throw back your head and cackle like a maniac, as you know from bitter experience that at best they will only have 1 pair of shoes in the whole feckin shop which will fit your child's feet. Sod's law dictates that your child will hate the only shoes they have and will strunt, strop and sometimes cry, you will feel like doing likewise. Because I am an unorganised Mummy I have left it to the day before term starts and know that my child will have to have these shoes as bare feet at the start of term will involve social services, so cajole and bribe child to accept their fate. Repeat this experience for each child you possess (3 in my case) and the highlight of the day will be when you get to hand over usually over £100 in my case but still feel like a cheapskate when you don't buy the polish, protector and fur lined box to store them in. I get to do this 4 times per year, this is why it is no 1
Swimming Lessons
The years of my life I have wasted sitting at the side of an overchlorinated overheated pool whilst waiting for 1 of my offspring to reach level bloody 12. You also have the delights of chit chatting to another Mummy waiting for her child and the only thing you will have in common will be your child's ability or lack of in the swimming department. Other mummies are often weird.You can substitute any kind of lesson for this , I have done several over the years, ballet, tap, football, rugby, gymnastics, athletics, rainbows, brownies, beavers and cubs to name but a few. My child's interest in new activities/clubs etc is directly proportionate to how long I take to buy all the kit and write the cheque for the term of lessons. As soon as that is done so is their interest, mine are ferocious joiners but have no staying power.
People who attempt to mimic my accent
I have been blessed and was born Scottish, I love the accent. I hate hate hate when people who on hearing me speak for the first time feel compelled to say something like och aye the noo or some other such drivel. This makes me want to physically hurt them and after living in England for 7 years I am now incredibly bored with this and I will retaliate, you have been warned.
Guardian readers
Never ever met 1 I liked. Especially ones with non useful degrees and who always eat organic food. Enough said
2009 update
Clarks shoe shops don't hold the same terror factor as my nearly 17 year old doesn't wear school shoes anymore, my 13 year old son still does but only gets slip ons as he's too feckin lazy to tie his laces but the real kicker is trying to persuade my 12 year old that she still has to have proper school shoes, she no likey, she likey stupid shoes fron New Look and other gawd awful shops. BBD is the child that is most difficult to persuade into anything but time is passing, in a few years she will leave middle school and there is no dress code at our high school, just the rest of year 7 and years 8 and 9 to go then that's only 10 more visits to Clarks and I can retire as a mummy shoe shopper.
Surely the Queen will be giving me a medal for efforts in making sure my offspring had the correct width and length fitting shoes at considerable expense from 1993? That will be an 18 year child shoe shopping career, think of the Manolo's and Choo's I could have had, do my children care about my sacrifice ? not a jot ! Ungrateful lot of weans with perfectly formed feet that they are.
My swimming lesson days are over, Glory be to God in the Highest, BBD reached level bloody 12 and I'm done now. In the 2 years since I wrote this, BBD has taken up and stopped cornet lessons and is currently thinking of quitting drama. EBD has given up drama but she better start it back again if she's thinking about a drama degree they might want to see a bit more than AS/A level Theatre Studies as the sum total of her commitment. TBS is still with rugby and electric guitar lessons so maybe my son can see something through to the end.
I still get annoyed by people who try to do a Scottish accent. Add to that the person (you know who you are and you should hang your head in shame) who takes great pleasure in calling any Scottish person who achieves anything as British but if they do anything bad they call them Scottish, Andy Murray is always British when he wins.
Guardian readers, yep they still annoy me but I have added to that Daily Mail readers, they epitomise to me all that's wrong with this country.
Would you like a new one ?
Airlines that charge you £20 for paying for your flights (debit or credit card, Ryanair, you are a bunch of robbing B****rds, it's not like you have a nice wee branch in my local high street where I can pop in and pay cash or an address where I can send a cheque to. And you have to get up at crack of sparrows to get your flight at stupid o clock too.
Okay, I'm done now ranty auntie has left the building !
Clarks Shoe Shop
Anything from the week before to the day before a new term starts, these shops are transformed into the 7th circle of hell. You arrive and take a ticket and wait for your number to be called, this can take anything up to an hour. Meanwhile the place is full of pissed off parents and bored, fidgety and sometimes screaming children. Eventually your turn comes and your child is taken to the machine to have their feet measured. When the assistant asks your child which shoes they would like you resist the urge to throw back your head and cackle like a maniac, as you know from bitter experience that at best they will only have 1 pair of shoes in the whole feckin shop which will fit your child's feet. Sod's law dictates that your child will hate the only shoes they have and will strunt, strop and sometimes cry, you will feel like doing likewise. Because I am an unorganised Mummy I have left it to the day before term starts and know that my child will have to have these shoes as bare feet at the start of term will involve social services, so cajole and bribe child to accept their fate. Repeat this experience for each child you possess (3 in my case) and the highlight of the day will be when you get to hand over usually over £100 in my case but still feel like a cheapskate when you don't buy the polish, protector and fur lined box to store them in. I get to do this 4 times per year, this is why it is no 1
Swimming Lessons
The years of my life I have wasted sitting at the side of an overchlorinated overheated pool whilst waiting for 1 of my offspring to reach level bloody 12. You also have the delights of chit chatting to another Mummy waiting for her child and the only thing you will have in common will be your child's ability or lack of in the swimming department. Other mummies are often weird.You can substitute any kind of lesson for this , I have done several over the years, ballet, tap, football, rugby, gymnastics, athletics, rainbows, brownies, beavers and cubs to name but a few. My child's interest in new activities/clubs etc is directly proportionate to how long I take to buy all the kit and write the cheque for the term of lessons. As soon as that is done so is their interest, mine are ferocious joiners but have no staying power.
People who attempt to mimic my accent
I have been blessed and was born Scottish, I love the accent. I hate hate hate when people who on hearing me speak for the first time feel compelled to say something like och aye the noo or some other such drivel. This makes me want to physically hurt them and after living in England for 7 years I am now incredibly bored with this and I will retaliate, you have been warned.
Guardian readers
Never ever met 1 I liked. Especially ones with non useful degrees and who always eat organic food. Enough said
2009 update
Clarks shoe shops don't hold the same terror factor as my nearly 17 year old doesn't wear school shoes anymore, my 13 year old son still does but only gets slip ons as he's too feckin lazy to tie his laces but the real kicker is trying to persuade my 12 year old that she still has to have proper school shoes, she no likey, she likey stupid shoes fron New Look and other gawd awful shops. BBD is the child that is most difficult to persuade into anything but time is passing, in a few years she will leave middle school and there is no dress code at our high school, just the rest of year 7 and years 8 and 9 to go then that's only 10 more visits to Clarks and I can retire as a mummy shoe shopper.
Surely the Queen will be giving me a medal for efforts in making sure my offspring had the correct width and length fitting shoes at considerable expense from 1993? That will be an 18 year child shoe shopping career, think of the Manolo's and Choo's I could have had, do my children care about my sacrifice ? not a jot ! Ungrateful lot of weans with perfectly formed feet that they are.
My swimming lesson days are over, Glory be to God in the Highest, BBD reached level bloody 12 and I'm done now. In the 2 years since I wrote this, BBD has taken up and stopped cornet lessons and is currently thinking of quitting drama. EBD has given up drama but she better start it back again if she's thinking about a drama degree they might want to see a bit more than AS/A level Theatre Studies as the sum total of her commitment. TBS is still with rugby and electric guitar lessons so maybe my son can see something through to the end.
I still get annoyed by people who try to do a Scottish accent. Add to that the person (you know who you are and you should hang your head in shame) who takes great pleasure in calling any Scottish person who achieves anything as British but if they do anything bad they call them Scottish, Andy Murray is always British when he wins.
Guardian readers, yep they still annoy me but I have added to that Daily Mail readers, they epitomise to me all that's wrong with this country.
Would you like a new one ?
Airlines that charge you £20 for paying for your flights (debit or credit card, Ryanair, you are a bunch of robbing B****rds, it's not like you have a nice wee branch in my local high street where I can pop in and pay cash or an address where I can send a cheque to. And you have to get up at crack of sparrows to get your flight at stupid o clock too.
Okay, I'm done now ranty auntie has left the building !
Saturday, 14 February 2009
The Boy is Back
The Beautiful Son has returned from his snowboarding trip in Switzerland with his full complement of limbs and all intact ! I have missed him muchly, this has been a week where I could have done with his hugs, he does the lie down beside you, not speaking, but immensly empathetic thing perfectly.
We were chatting about his trip and then he got very animated and said excitedly "We boarded into France" I said that sounded great and he told me about boading right down to the restaurant for lunch. He then got very excited and told me " I had the best sandwich I have ever tasted, a toasted cheese and ham panini"
I did nearly wet myself laughing when he added "I took a picture of it on my phone"
So to my lovely friend, you know who you are, who said the reason my son hadn't rung all week was because he was too busy shagging a chalet maid (apologies again to Grandma in Cyprus for the language) Na na na na na
He still remains very much a small boy, shagging a chalet maid, would you give yourself peace !
We were chatting about his trip and then he got very animated and said excitedly "We boarded into France" I said that sounded great and he told me about boading right down to the restaurant for lunch. He then got very excited and told me " I had the best sandwich I have ever tasted, a toasted cheese and ham panini"
I did nearly wet myself laughing when he added "I took a picture of it on my phone"
So to my lovely friend, you know who you are, who said the reason my son hadn't rung all week was because he was too busy shagging a chalet maid (apologies again to Grandma in Cyprus for the language) Na na na na na
He still remains very much a small boy, shagging a chalet maid, would you give yourself peace !
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Valentine Schmalentine part deux
In my last post, I was setting out my stall as to what I wanted for Valentine's Day. I had no conception that this Valentine malarkey should be a 2 way street. Oh no, your auntie was thinking how very what splendid it would be if SHE got what she wanted, no thought whatsoever that I would actually have to do anything my own self.
So, in my comments, I had lots of lovely sweet wishes from my bloggy loved ones, a special mention to TF who offered to change sex for me, now that's what I call friendship ! some great offers and some sage advice from Soxy, you can read the comments here
So I drag MY sorry ass into town and into the card shop. As I'm there I realise I haven't sent a Valentine's card in over 20 years, I think I was 20 the last time. Well, dear readers, I was horrified, they were all really bleurggh, I, of course have no clue what I actually want because I don't buy them I've never looked at them.
Some I could discount right off the bat, the ones that say to my husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, love of my life, the one I love, someone very special etc etc etc.
Then I discounted the cute ones with teddy bears and fluffy bunnies etc, after barfing of course, I am just so not a teddy bear kinda gal.
I have to discount all the flowery ones, not partial to that.
Then I have to discount the ones that say " I want to shag you senseless" I feel a little decorum is called for.
That leaves me with the funny ones, except they weren't.
I ask the Thorntons lady if she would ice " Fecking Romantic Gesture" on a chocolate heart and she looked at me like I'd kicked a puppy and told me off for my language, suitably chastened, I left shamefacedly.
So I try another card shop and lastly a 3rd and I still couldn't find a card that I would be happy to send or to receive myself, for the love of God, why can't I find a simple, stylish, tasteful card ?
Now I realise why men don't make a fuss over Valentine's Day, it's just fecking hard work, I was an hour, a whole hour trying to get a card, do you know what else I could have been doing in that hour ?
However, I have put the work in and I feel sure that come Saturday, I shall be rewarded most handsomely for all my efforts.
Incidentally should anyone want to take me anywhere on Saturday, I have THE sexiest new little black dress and killer heels...
So, in my comments, I had lots of lovely sweet wishes from my bloggy loved ones, a special mention to TF who offered to change sex for me, now that's what I call friendship ! some great offers and some sage advice from Soxy, you can read the comments here
So I drag MY sorry ass into town and into the card shop. As I'm there I realise I haven't sent a Valentine's card in over 20 years, I think I was 20 the last time. Well, dear readers, I was horrified, they were all really bleurggh, I, of course have no clue what I actually want because I don't buy them I've never looked at them.
Some I could discount right off the bat, the ones that say to my husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, love of my life, the one I love, someone very special etc etc etc.
Then I discounted the cute ones with teddy bears and fluffy bunnies etc, after barfing of course, I am just so not a teddy bear kinda gal.
I have to discount all the flowery ones, not partial to that.
Then I have to discount the ones that say " I want to shag you senseless" I feel a little decorum is called for.
That leaves me with the funny ones, except they weren't.
I ask the Thorntons lady if she would ice " Fecking Romantic Gesture" on a chocolate heart and she looked at me like I'd kicked a puppy and told me off for my language, suitably chastened, I left shamefacedly.
So I try another card shop and lastly a 3rd and I still couldn't find a card that I would be happy to send or to receive myself, for the love of God, why can't I find a simple, stylish, tasteful card ?
Now I realise why men don't make a fuss over Valentine's Day, it's just fecking hard work, I was an hour, a whole hour trying to get a card, do you know what else I could have been doing in that hour ?
However, I have put the work in and I feel sure that come Saturday, I shall be rewarded most handsomely for all my efforts.
Incidentally should anyone want to take me anywhere on Saturday, I have THE sexiest new little black dress and killer heels...
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Valentine Schmalentine
Apologies up front and in advance, you are about to witness a middle aged woman have a whine, I won't go as far as to have a full blown temper tantrum but I'm definitely going to have a wee strunt to myself. If you are of a sensitive disposition, you may wish to exit gracefully and return another day, I will not be offended in the slightest, I'm your auntie, I'll always love you.
Okay, here it comes
I am 42 years old, you probably knew that, I make a point of telling people, it helps me realise that I am meant to be a grown up, a grown up who accepts the little curve balls that life throws at her middle aged self from time to time. More difficult for me to accept, however, is that I am not Carrie from Sex and The City, all right she's skinnier and has better shoes in a more glamorous location but there have been things I have truly empathised with. I bawled like a middle aged baby at this, my favourite episode, "La Douleur Exquise" series 2
Anyway, it's February, me no likey February, me especially no likey Valentines Day and there's no feckin escaping it, it is EVERYWHERE.
Here is the big fat whiney moan coming, in my whole fortyfeckintwo years I have received a grand total of 4 Valentines cards and that, frankly, is piss poor in a woman my age, there are 5 year olds that have had more than me and truth be told, in the last 2 years both my Dad and my sister have increased my market share by 50%, how patronised am I ?
Before I retired as a wife, I didn't give a curdy about Valentine's Day, it obviously happened every year and I'm sure I was aware of it but it didn't figure for me, I could have had red roses and diamond rings and anything I asked for, did I want it ? That would be a no.
But now I'm not married ? now I don't have someone legally bound to make my every wish come true? I want a lovely card, I want to be taken out to some overpriced with crap food "cos we can because we know we'll be full as you are all big suckers" restaurant, I want a big feck off romantic gesture. Sorry I have to rephrase that, I want a big FUCK off romantic gesture.
Contrary and shallow ? those would be my middle names.
Sorry, it did venture a wee bitty in to tantrum mode and apologies for the use of the hard F word, especially to NB's mother, it was for emphasis.
But I still want it, show me the mush.
Okay, here it comes
I am 42 years old, you probably knew that, I make a point of telling people, it helps me realise that I am meant to be a grown up, a grown up who accepts the little curve balls that life throws at her middle aged self from time to time. More difficult for me to accept, however, is that I am not Carrie from Sex and The City, all right she's skinnier and has better shoes in a more glamorous location but there have been things I have truly empathised with. I bawled like a middle aged baby at this, my favourite episode, "La Douleur Exquise" series 2
Anyway, it's February, me no likey February, me especially no likey Valentines Day and there's no feckin escaping it, it is EVERYWHERE.
Here is the big fat whiney moan coming, in my whole fortyfeckintwo years I have received a grand total of 4 Valentines cards and that, frankly, is piss poor in a woman my age, there are 5 year olds that have had more than me and truth be told, in the last 2 years both my Dad and my sister have increased my market share by 50%, how patronised am I ?
Before I retired as a wife, I didn't give a curdy about Valentine's Day, it obviously happened every year and I'm sure I was aware of it but it didn't figure for me, I could have had red roses and diamond rings and anything I asked for, did I want it ? That would be a no.
But now I'm not married ? now I don't have someone legally bound to make my every wish come true? I want a lovely card, I want to be taken out to some overpriced with crap food "cos we can because we know we'll be full as you are all big suckers" restaurant, I want a big feck off romantic gesture. Sorry I have to rephrase that, I want a big FUCK off romantic gesture.
Contrary and shallow ? those would be my middle names.
Sorry, it did venture a wee bitty in to tantrum mode and apologies for the use of the hard F word, especially to NB's mother, it was for emphasis.
But I still want it, show me the mush.
Friday, 6 February 2009
Life's little Ironies
My county is covered in snow. My school closed yesterday due to snow for only the second time in it's 600 year history. Everywhere is white, in parts it is at least a foot deep. I don't really like snow, I like the look of it, when I'm inside and I'm warm and dry but I don't like the inconvenience of it.
The Beautiful Children are enjoying this weather muchly, killjoy that I am, am not. My house is awash with damp smelly socks, damp smelly clothes and full of damp weans draped over radiators demanding cups of hot chocolate.
But the real kicker ? I have forked out over £600 for The Beautiful Son to go snowboarding in Switzerland tomorrow. I could have pushed him down the A6 and saved myself a fortune.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
auntiegwen loves you
I know I'm crap at awards, people are incredibly kind at giving me them and I never reciprocate. That's bad, I'm usually better at giving than receiving.
So here it is, chock full of love from your auntie, this award is for anyone who pops in to visit their auntie, has been kind enough to comment and for the lovelies listed who have adorned their auntie with bling, in no particular order
Lisa, Tom Foolery, Mean Mom, Mom or Mum wars, Mobs, A Confused Take That Fan, DJ Kirby, Working Mum, That Girl and if I've left anyone out, I apologize and I know some of you are multiple givers.
If you don't have an award, please let mine be the first. I absolutely love being part of the community of bloggers, I now know people from all over the world and have insights into all kinds of things that would have passed me by. There have been striking similarities in lives lived an ocean apart and I love hearing how others are getting through theirs. I have made friends who can pick up nuances from what I write and will take time out of their life to email and offer support, so take a bow Lisa, Shirley, Sue, Penelope, you have dried some virtual tears and send lots of cyber hugs.
I always think I have an overwhelmingly female readership and I always applaud the power of female friendship but in the last wee while I have had some men who pop in from time to time, I also have some male bloggers I speak to off blog, I know, I can't believe it either, they're rubbish at discussing lip gloss though. So I want you to know I appreciate you visiting such a pink blog.
So again, I thank you for putting up with me bumping my gums about my weans, my complete inability to be a grown up and how if I were in charge of the world it would be a much better place.
Most of all thank you for giving me a voice.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
The Restlessness of a Middle Aged Woman
Do you ever feel that other people know the rules of the game but you don't ? Or that everyone else is dancing and you don't know the steps ? Or remember when you were a child and you watch other children play and you are longing be part of the fun but are too shy to ask to join in ?
I am extremely restless and bored at the moment, I feel that the world is passing me by and I'm just a spectator on life not an actual participant. I am enabling other people to have a fulfilled life but don't feel that my life is all it could be.
I know that I am the only person who can do anything about this but this is the first time I am not being apologetic about doing something that will make me happier. I'm putting my cards on the table and I am going to regain control of my life.
So I am going to make some changes, the "I'd like to run away from my life" can't happen because I have others who rely on me, but my arse would just be a blur if it wasn't for that so I've started with my hair, sad but true women do do drastic things with their appearance when they are feverish for change.
My job is next and then I am going for my "no regrets" personal happiness manifesto.
Friday, 30 January 2009
The Mystery of Facebook
Now, your auntie has been very scathing about facebook. I've been asked several times if I have one and I have replied in a very derisory tone "No, because I am a grown up" Hardly a shining example of the genre but my birth certificate tells me I am, so who am I to disagree ?
So, never having succumbed to the fascination of facebook I was a tad surprised and even bemused when I received an email informing me that a Mr Unknown Male had added me as a friend on facebook and I had to click on the link to confirm this request. So being a biddable sort, I duly clicked on the link and was asked for my email address, which I gave and then my email password which I gave and lo and behold there was a facebook account belonging to me. Apparently I joined in October 2008, but on that day, nay at that very time I joined I was having the joy of a delayed flight and was stopping World War 3 breaking out between the weans in Dalaman airport.
Curious ? so was I. There was no photo of me but it had my correct date of birth and my real name, the one that's in my passport. I know this will surprise you but I will fess up to you now, dear readers, auntiegwen is not my actual name ! I've done it now, it's like the tooth fairy and Santa Claus disappointments all over again. I am sorry but there are some people in the world who don't call me auntiegwen.
Now this, unknown to me man, was very kind to say that he enjoyed my blog in his wee message, which confuses me even further because at no point in the last 2 years have I ever mentioned my real name. I have very few people who read my blog that know me in real life and so know my other name and this very kind man who has good taste in blogs is not someone I know.
Now, nice kind man, if I do know you, I apologize profusely for not remembering you, my caveats are I am middle aged, I have 3 kids, 3 different jobs and a total of 96 students, I have 2 parenting groups with a total of 43 mums and 46 babies to remember the names of and most days I can't find my keys. Memory is not a major skill.
So please explain to me before my head bursts with my overwhelming "need to know" ness
How did I get a facebook account in the first place when I didn't sign up ? Answers on a postcard please.
How did the nice unknown man know my real name if he only knows me from the blog ?
So please, nice man who wants to be my facebook friend be kind enough to email me @ auntiegwen@yahoo.co.uk and put me out of my misery of mental musing and meandering.
I am very grateful you brought this to my attention, can you imagine my embarassment if people were searching for me and found out I had no friends ? auntiegwennie no mates.
So, never having succumbed to the fascination of facebook I was a tad surprised and even bemused when I received an email informing me that a Mr Unknown Male had added me as a friend on facebook and I had to click on the link to confirm this request. So being a biddable sort, I duly clicked on the link and was asked for my email address, which I gave and then my email password which I gave and lo and behold there was a facebook account belonging to me. Apparently I joined in October 2008, but on that day, nay at that very time I joined I was having the joy of a delayed flight and was stopping World War 3 breaking out between the weans in Dalaman airport.
Curious ? so was I. There was no photo of me but it had my correct date of birth and my real name, the one that's in my passport. I know this will surprise you but I will fess up to you now, dear readers, auntiegwen is not my actual name ! I've done it now, it's like the tooth fairy and Santa Claus disappointments all over again. I am sorry but there are some people in the world who don't call me auntiegwen.
Now this, unknown to me man, was very kind to say that he enjoyed my blog in his wee message, which confuses me even further because at no point in the last 2 years have I ever mentioned my real name. I have very few people who read my blog that know me in real life and so know my other name and this very kind man who has good taste in blogs is not someone I know.
Now, nice kind man, if I do know you, I apologize profusely for not remembering you, my caveats are I am middle aged, I have 3 kids, 3 different jobs and a total of 96 students, I have 2 parenting groups with a total of 43 mums and 46 babies to remember the names of and most days I can't find my keys. Memory is not a major skill.
So please explain to me before my head bursts with my overwhelming "need to know" ness
How did I get a facebook account in the first place when I didn't sign up ? Answers on a postcard please.
How did the nice unknown man know my real name if he only knows me from the blog ?
So please, nice man who wants to be my facebook friend be kind enough to email me @ auntiegwen@yahoo.co.uk and put me out of my misery of mental musing and meandering.
I am very grateful you brought this to my attention, can you imagine my embarassment if people were searching for me and found out I had no friends ? auntiegwennie no mates.
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
Tag, I'm it
I have been tagged by That Girl for a photo tag
The rules:
Go to the 4th folder in your computer where you store your pictures
Pick the 4th picture in that folder
Explain the picture
Tag 4 people to do the same
Okay, so here is my photo. It's an apartment block in Paris that I found very beautiful and would have loved to live there. It was taken from Les Invalides in October 2007. Paris is a city I love and I should make an effort to spend more time there. Note to self, travel more.
So mes amies, see what I did there ? Clever eh ? not just a middle aged face.
I tag
Tom Foolery because she is very nifty with a camera.
Indigo Alison as her photography is always beautiful and thought provoking, visiting her blog is a real visual treat.
A woman of no importance as dear Fhina also illustrates her blog with fantastic imagery.
So because I am so subversive I am only going to tag 3 bloggers and they can choose to do the original 444 tag or go with my 333.
Rebel is my middle name.
The rules:
Go to the 4th folder in your computer where you store your pictures
Pick the 4th picture in that folder
Explain the picture
Tag 4 people to do the same
Okay, so here is my photo. It's an apartment block in Paris that I found very beautiful and would have loved to live there. It was taken from Les Invalides in October 2007. Paris is a city I love and I should make an effort to spend more time there. Note to self, travel more.
So mes amies, see what I did there ? Clever eh ? not just a middle aged face.
I tag
Tom Foolery because she is very nifty with a camera.
Indigo Alison as her photography is always beautiful and thought provoking, visiting her blog is a real visual treat.
A woman of no importance as dear Fhina also illustrates her blog with fantastic imagery.
So because I am so subversive I am only going to tag 3 bloggers and they can choose to do the original 444 tag or go with my 333.
Rebel is my middle name.
Monday, 26 January 2009
PostSecret
In November 2004 a clinical psychologist and gallery owner called Frank Warren printed 3,000 postcards and asked people to write a secret they had never told anyone on the card and mail it to him. The postcards were used as an exhibition, his interest was in the healing and psychological aspects of art.
The project just grew and grew and became a blog and a book. My EBD was given the book as a gift and I've just finished reading it. Some of the secrets are funny, some raunchy, some downright strange but the ones that caught me were the poignantly sad ones.
I am an extremely good keeper of secrets, both other peoples and my own, always have been and probably always will be. I will be posting my own secret but from the book the ones that touched a chord in me seem all to be about love and loneliness
I will never stop loving her.
If I had a million dollars I would give it all away for one more day with her like it used to be in the beginning.
Braille : God is the only one who loves me, no one else on earth does.
What hurts more than losing you is knowing you're not fighting to keep me.
If you want to see the blog then go to PostSecret
The project just grew and grew and became a blog and a book. My EBD was given the book as a gift and I've just finished reading it. Some of the secrets are funny, some raunchy, some downright strange but the ones that caught me were the poignantly sad ones.
I am an extremely good keeper of secrets, both other peoples and my own, always have been and probably always will be. I will be posting my own secret but from the book the ones that touched a chord in me seem all to be about love and loneliness
I will never stop loving her.
If I had a million dollars I would give it all away for one more day with her like it used to be in the beginning.
Braille : God is the only one who loves me, no one else on earth does.
What hurts more than losing you is knowing you're not fighting to keep me.
If you want to see the blog then go to PostSecret
Saturday, 24 January 2009
The Great Black Hope
I've been a bit tearful over the last few days. I've been reading "The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd, it's set in the 1960's in the deep south of America. It's a very poignant read and is filled with elegantly effortless prose. It makes me despair that I sully blogland with my crap.
It's very thought provoking especially around this time and I keep bursting into tears. I was trying to explain why to EBD as my children get overly anxious when I'm upset. I was trying to articulate how we shouldn't forget, just because America has come a long way, from Obama's fathers experiences to him becoming the first black president. I feel it's really important to remember how people have struggled and suffered and what a soul destroying insidious poison prejudice is.
I'm a white and Scottish and I cried at his speech, God only knows how I would feel if I was a black American. I encouraged her to watch it with me again on youtube. I was attempting to articulate my thought processes to EBD and as usual she brings me down to earth by laughing at me, I gently remind her that we all turn into our mothers and her parting shot...
" Christ, what a thing to look forward to, being forty odd in a fleece and crying at youtube"
It's very thought provoking especially around this time and I keep bursting into tears. I was trying to explain why to EBD as my children get overly anxious when I'm upset. I was trying to articulate how we shouldn't forget, just because America has come a long way, from Obama's fathers experiences to him becoming the first black president. I feel it's really important to remember how people have struggled and suffered and what a soul destroying insidious poison prejudice is.
I'm a white and Scottish and I cried at his speech, God only knows how I would feel if I was a black American. I encouraged her to watch it with me again on youtube. I was attempting to articulate my thought processes to EBD and as usual she brings me down to earth by laughing at me, I gently remind her that we all turn into our mothers and her parting shot...
" Christ, what a thing to look forward to, being forty odd in a fleece and crying at youtube"
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
When I grow up I want to be...
Sharleen Spiteri.
She's got the best voice in the world bar none. This song makes me cry, it just touches something deep within me.
She'll take no messin from anyone, I like that.
And she is the sexiest woman alive, OMG, I fancy her myself esp in her Elvis gear. She's been on my CSL for years.
Yep, I want to be Sharleen Spiteri.
Who do you want to be ?
Sunday, 18 January 2009
My Faults
In no particular order...
I am incredibly impatient, just put me in a Post Office Queue to see the dark side of me. Or a supermarket queue or at an airport check in desk, you get the picture. I want instant gratification.
I want my own way all the time. This is compounded and exacerbated by my feeling that I am always right about everything. I have been so angry and pissed off at work recently because I feel I am right on a point of principle and the others don't care as much as me. I am as cross as a bag of cats that I am not getting my own way over this.
I can keep grudges for a very long time and I will cut you out of my life without a backward glance, if you do something that upsets me. I removed my aunt in 1995 because I was pissed off at her wailing and weeping at my Gran's funeral( she did nothing to help my mother in the 10 years she had been caring for Gran when she developed Alzheimers) I actually made her cry after telling her a few home truths. I did the same to my ex friend Jenny also in 1995 when I found out she'd read my medical notes, she was nearly BBD's godmother and I told her off and never spoke to her again. I stopped speaking to Pam in 2006 when she rang my friend Susan asking for info about Gordon and I splitting up. Last year I gave up my friend Jo as I felt her behaviour was outrageous in the extreme. This is not a nice aspect of my personality, I don't do forgiveness easily or well. Judgemental is now appearing to be my default state.
Criticize my children unfairly at your peril. I will verbally annihilate you, no one has the right to do that, except me, not even their other parent, I feel when you give birth to them, it is the top trump, every time. If you teach them, you must be prepared to say good things to criticism on a 2-1 ratio, even then I will smile at you while seething inside and burning holes in my stomach lining, then you will receive crap presents at the end of term. You have been warned.
I need to be loved, I am a sad article, I know, I crave love, my name is auntiegwen and I am a big fat love junkie.
Psychologically incontinent in the extreme, I am always looking for hidden meanings, chance remarks have my guts churning for days, I will always look at what hasn't been said, send me a link for a song you like and I'll be in knots wondering what you're really trying to tell me, I drive myself insane with this.
Passive aggressive, I used to be a Pollyanna but now I've upgraded... to a Martyr Complex.
I like to know where I stand, I need to know how people feel about me. I don't like mystery and I can't bear mind games "treat em mean keep em keen" type stuff. I am fundamentally unsuited to dating and all the thrill of the chase stuff, will he call me again, will I see him type stuff, it just makes me anxious, bollocks to that.
I am very bad at sharing my really deep innermost feelings. I have reams and reams of written stuff that I do when I need to clarify things. I never show it to the people concerned, I'm probably too afraid of their reaction if I was as honest as I wanted to be.
I talk way too much, all the feckin time, no matter what I'm doing, there's nothing I feel won't be enhanced by a bit conversation, and I mean absolutely nothing. Other people, I've found feel differently about this. In bed I have been shushed most vociferously and told that the only thing required from me at that point was to "writhe and moan"
So I did.
At least I learn quickly.
I am incredibly impatient, just put me in a Post Office Queue to see the dark side of me. Or a supermarket queue or at an airport check in desk, you get the picture. I want instant gratification.
I want my own way all the time. This is compounded and exacerbated by my feeling that I am always right about everything. I have been so angry and pissed off at work recently because I feel I am right on a point of principle and the others don't care as much as me. I am as cross as a bag of cats that I am not getting my own way over this.
I can keep grudges for a very long time and I will cut you out of my life without a backward glance, if you do something that upsets me. I removed my aunt in 1995 because I was pissed off at her wailing and weeping at my Gran's funeral( she did nothing to help my mother in the 10 years she had been caring for Gran when she developed Alzheimers) I actually made her cry after telling her a few home truths. I did the same to my ex friend Jenny also in 1995 when I found out she'd read my medical notes, she was nearly BBD's godmother and I told her off and never spoke to her again. I stopped speaking to Pam in 2006 when she rang my friend Susan asking for info about Gordon and I splitting up. Last year I gave up my friend Jo as I felt her behaviour was outrageous in the extreme. This is not a nice aspect of my personality, I don't do forgiveness easily or well. Judgemental is now appearing to be my default state.
Criticize my children unfairly at your peril. I will verbally annihilate you, no one has the right to do that, except me, not even their other parent, I feel when you give birth to them, it is the top trump, every time. If you teach them, you must be prepared to say good things to criticism on a 2-1 ratio, even then I will smile at you while seething inside and burning holes in my stomach lining, then you will receive crap presents at the end of term. You have been warned.
I need to be loved, I am a sad article, I know, I crave love, my name is auntiegwen and I am a big fat love junkie.
Psychologically incontinent in the extreme, I am always looking for hidden meanings, chance remarks have my guts churning for days, I will always look at what hasn't been said, send me a link for a song you like and I'll be in knots wondering what you're really trying to tell me, I drive myself insane with this.
Passive aggressive, I used to be a Pollyanna but now I've upgraded... to a Martyr Complex.
I like to know where I stand, I need to know how people feel about me. I don't like mystery and I can't bear mind games "treat em mean keep em keen" type stuff. I am fundamentally unsuited to dating and all the thrill of the chase stuff, will he call me again, will I see him type stuff, it just makes me anxious, bollocks to that.
I am very bad at sharing my really deep innermost feelings. I have reams and reams of written stuff that I do when I need to clarify things. I never show it to the people concerned, I'm probably too afraid of their reaction if I was as honest as I wanted to be.
I talk way too much, all the feckin time, no matter what I'm doing, there's nothing I feel won't be enhanced by a bit conversation, and I mean absolutely nothing. Other people, I've found feel differently about this. In bed I have been shushed most vociferously and told that the only thing required from me at that point was to "writhe and moan"
So I did.
At least I learn quickly.
Friday, 16 January 2009
Conversations with my ex
Background info
I spent 2 decades of my life with the man with the world's worst memory. He had no recall of places we'd been, films we saw or people we met. The only things I'm sure he'll remember with relative clarity of his time with me would be the time when I wore the white dress, veil and tiara and the occassions where he accompanied me to the big building where the people in white coats and stethescopes removed small people from me. I'm certain he would know it was me he did those things with, I'm not saying he'd remember all of it but the edited highlights, sure.
Conversation
ag - so you'll pick the kids up at 4.30pm as I have to get to Leicester for 7.15pm
ex - what are you going to see again ? I know you told me ?
ag - it's the Leicester Comedy Festival preview show at De Montford hall
ex - oh have they got a comedy festival ? I love live comedy
ag - thinks yep, I know you do, you've been to that preview show before at least twice, but says nothing
ex - we went to see Frankie Boyle in Nottingham
ag - immediately thinks the "we" referred to is him and his girlfriend and then thinks jealous thoughts , because "we" being me and my ( I have to find a name I'm comfortable with for him) tried to get tickets and couldn't
ag - oh was he good ?
ex - I think so, can't really remember, did you enjoy it ?
ag - I haven't seen him live
ex - yes you have, we saw him in the same hall we saw Texas in
ag - that wasn't me
ex - it was so, we saw him about 3 years ago in Nottingham
ag - no, we didn't, we did see Jimmy Carr in the Leicester Comedy Festival preview show about 5 years ago though
This is the man who walked up to a girl in a bar in Aberdeen and said " I promise I'm not trying to chat you up or anything , but I know I know you but I just can't think from where"
she replied " I'm your cousin Marian, you last saw me at Granny's funeral "
I fitted him with a homing device to keep him coming back to me for those 20 years, I suppose the battery just wore out.
I spent 2 decades of my life with the man with the world's worst memory. He had no recall of places we'd been, films we saw or people we met. The only things I'm sure he'll remember with relative clarity of his time with me would be the time when I wore the white dress, veil and tiara and the occassions where he accompanied me to the big building where the people in white coats and stethescopes removed small people from me. I'm certain he would know it was me he did those things with, I'm not saying he'd remember all of it but the edited highlights, sure.
Conversation
ag - so you'll pick the kids up at 4.30pm as I have to get to Leicester for 7.15pm
ex - what are you going to see again ? I know you told me ?
ag - it's the Leicester Comedy Festival preview show at De Montford hall
ex - oh have they got a comedy festival ? I love live comedy
ag - thinks yep, I know you do, you've been to that preview show before at least twice, but says nothing
ex - we went to see Frankie Boyle in Nottingham
ag - immediately thinks the "we" referred to is him and his girlfriend and then thinks jealous thoughts , because "we" being me and my ( I have to find a name I'm comfortable with for him) tried to get tickets and couldn't
ag - oh was he good ?
ex - I think so, can't really remember, did you enjoy it ?
ag - I haven't seen him live
ex - yes you have, we saw him in the same hall we saw Texas in
ag - that wasn't me
ex - it was so, we saw him about 3 years ago in Nottingham
ag - no, we didn't, we did see Jimmy Carr in the Leicester Comedy Festival preview show about 5 years ago though
This is the man who walked up to a girl in a bar in Aberdeen and said " I promise I'm not trying to chat you up or anything , but I know I know you but I just can't think from where"
she replied " I'm your cousin Marian, you last saw me at Granny's funeral "
I fitted him with a homing device to keep him coming back to me for those 20 years, I suppose the battery just wore out.
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Meet auntiegwen - The End ( I promise !)
She is a complex woman.
Let’s just leave it there shall we ?
OK, I’ll expand.
A true Scot and a child of the 1980s. Has civic pride in Glasgow alongside a secret love/hate relationship with England . Adores her 3 children more than they know. Regrets her marriage breakdown but now accepts it and begins to see the positives. Determined, tough when it comes to some things, fragile when it comes to others. Has an almost only-childlike need to be liked and surrounds herself with friends and bloggers. Can be pushed a long way but then puts her foot down. Likes order and structure in her life but is mature and sensible enough to ease up on it as her children get older and her life goes in different directions with more personal choice and different people. Sees the good (and beauty) in everyone and everything, even when sometimes it isn’t there. Wishes the world was a better place.
Loves music, alcohol, humour, intelligence, travel and…whisper it….sex ! Has a bit of a guilt trip with the latter. Wishes she had had a few more boyfriends before “settling down”. Wants to love and be loved and, despite some hurtful experiences, has never given up on that ideal. Her new life has been evolving for a while now and she likes it a lot but still has a long list of ambitions. Almost a second-time-around teenager at heart full of sneaky smokes, drinking, late nights, loud music and ‘nothing is going to hold me back’ thinking. Learns very quickly, not afraid to admit mistakes. Struggles for time but seems to cope incredibly well and has tremendous energy. Knows how to dress to impress and is very canny when it comes to attracting the opposite sex. At times can be ‘holier than thou’. Pretends this isn’t the case. But very intelligent and very witty. Wears heart on sleeve. Passionate about the value of education and works hard to instill this in the children she teaches.
So let’s weigh the pros and cons, shall we ?
Many pros and few cons. A genuinely warm, loyal and painfully honest person who gives more than she takes. Has had to learn quickly how to be an ex-wife and is beginning to reinvent herself as the woman she really wants to be.
Let’s just leave it there shall we ?
OK, I’ll expand.
A true Scot and a child of the 1980s. Has civic pride in Glasgow alongside a secret love/hate relationship with England . Adores her 3 children more than they know. Regrets her marriage breakdown but now accepts it and begins to see the positives. Determined, tough when it comes to some things, fragile when it comes to others. Has an almost only-childlike need to be liked and surrounds herself with friends and bloggers. Can be pushed a long way but then puts her foot down. Likes order and structure in her life but is mature and sensible enough to ease up on it as her children get older and her life goes in different directions with more personal choice and different people. Sees the good (and beauty) in everyone and everything, even when sometimes it isn’t there. Wishes the world was a better place.
Loves music, alcohol, humour, intelligence, travel and…whisper it….sex ! Has a bit of a guilt trip with the latter. Wishes she had had a few more boyfriends before “settling down”. Wants to love and be loved and, despite some hurtful experiences, has never given up on that ideal. Her new life has been evolving for a while now and she likes it a lot but still has a long list of ambitions. Almost a second-time-around teenager at heart full of sneaky smokes, drinking, late nights, loud music and ‘nothing is going to hold me back’ thinking. Learns very quickly, not afraid to admit mistakes. Struggles for time but seems to cope incredibly well and has tremendous energy. Knows how to dress to impress and is very canny when it comes to attracting the opposite sex. At times can be ‘holier than thou’. Pretends this isn’t the case. But very intelligent and very witty. Wears heart on sleeve. Passionate about the value of education and works hard to instill this in the children she teaches.
So let’s weigh the pros and cons, shall we ?
Many pros and few cons. A genuinely warm, loyal and painfully honest person who gives more than she takes. Has had to learn quickly how to be an ex-wife and is beginning to reinvent herself as the woman she really wants to be.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Meet auntiegwen part 1
This is what my children and the matey boys (who live here part time) think of me. Next time you'll get what himself thinks of me.
Aunty Gwen is the most lovely lady you could ever meet.. She is quite short, very funny and very beautiful :). Despite the lack of actual blood relation, she is like a mother to all of us, always willing to help us out of the usual messes we end up in. She is a wonderful cook (despite the lack of meat) and she is always happy to put up with a house full of large, loud and frequently messy boys, and we all love her very much for it. Aunty Gwen is as of yet to lose the Scottish accent she has brought down to our lovely (and regularly mocked) country, making conversations a welcome break from the norm (though her intriguing sense of humour may add to that :)) We all love her very much and hope she never changes!!!
The matey boys xxx
Marmee, angus, miss Marmee, charkin,silly woman these are a few of many of the names I call my wonderfull charkin. She always is confused but I am going to put her in a nursing home in a few years , she thinks im mentally unstable, sexy and georgus.
She always makes me laugh she thinks that she loves us all the same (but of course she is confused!!! So she loves me the most and she tries to cook but oven chips are good for me. She likes her blog a lot and your are lucky because in a way she kin da loves you guys aswell =)! Love you Marmee, angus, miss Marmee, charkin,silly woman
Jack The beautiful and most loved son.
My mother is probably the best mother you could wish for. She isn’t the greatest cook and she is getting old, but we still love her. Watching her type actually hurts me inside, it is that painfully slow. Me and mother often take small trips to new shopping places, we usually get lost on the way at least once, we then start shopping logically, stop for a starbucks break, continue shopping until we both reach the can’t-be-arsedness stage when we have dinner and return home. I think I’m lucky to have a mummy that looks after me, puts up with me, pays for things, plays my silly games, puts up with my nonsense and loves me no matter what. Mother is always right when it comes to knowing what I should do and she does love to do the ‘I told you so’ dance’, she can’t make decisions and doesn’t like to park unless it’s a well placed ‘mummy space’, usually in the car park of marks and spencers. I do love my mum :)
The eldest and most loved daughter x
I love my mummy so much she is the nicest person I have ever met, she has loved and cared for me for 12 whole years! She is ancient, 42 to be precise.
My mummy is lovely however she is very strict on pets. I have wanted many pets over the years but have never been allowed one, I have to stop sucking my thumb :( .I think my mummy is the prettiest 42 year old on the planet and should win an award for it. Mummy has never been violent to us but has thrown a barbie doll at ebd when she was six.
Written by bbd the prettiest daughter
Published by Mummy
Aunty Gwen is the most lovely lady you could ever meet.. She is quite short, very funny and very beautiful :). Despite the lack of actual blood relation, she is like a mother to all of us, always willing to help us out of the usual messes we end up in. She is a wonderful cook (despite the lack of meat) and she is always happy to put up with a house full of large, loud and frequently messy boys, and we all love her very much for it. Aunty Gwen is as of yet to lose the Scottish accent she has brought down to our lovely (and regularly mocked) country, making conversations a welcome break from the norm (though her intriguing sense of humour may add to that :)) We all love her very much and hope she never changes!!!
The matey boys xxx
Marmee, angus, miss Marmee, charkin,silly woman these are a few of many of the names I call my wonderfull charkin. She always is confused but I am going to put her in a nursing home in a few years , she thinks im mentally unstable, sexy and georgus.
She always makes me laugh she thinks that she loves us all the same (but of course she is confused!!! So she loves me the most and she tries to cook but oven chips are good for me. She likes her blog a lot and your are lucky because in a way she kin da loves you guys aswell =)! Love you Marmee, angus, miss Marmee, charkin,silly woman
Jack The beautiful and most loved son.
My mother is probably the best mother you could wish for. She isn’t the greatest cook and she is getting old, but we still love her. Watching her type actually hurts me inside, it is that painfully slow. Me and mother often take small trips to new shopping places, we usually get lost on the way at least once, we then start shopping logically, stop for a starbucks break, continue shopping until we both reach the can’t-be-arsedness stage when we have dinner and return home. I think I’m lucky to have a mummy that looks after me, puts up with me, pays for things, plays my silly games, puts up with my nonsense and loves me no matter what. Mother is always right when it comes to knowing what I should do and she does love to do the ‘I told you so’ dance’, she can’t make decisions and doesn’t like to park unless it’s a well placed ‘mummy space’, usually in the car park of marks and spencers. I do love my mum :)
The eldest and most loved daughter x
I love my mummy so much she is the nicest person I have ever met, she has loved and cared for me for 12 whole years! She is ancient, 42 to be precise.
My mummy is lovely however she is very strict on pets. I have wanted many pets over the years but have never been allowed one, I have to stop sucking my thumb :( .I think my mummy is the prettiest 42 year old on the planet and should win an award for it. Mummy has never been violent to us but has thrown a barbie doll at ebd when she was six.
Written by bbd the prettiest daughter
Published by Mummy
Monday, 12 January 2009
Meet The Weans...part trois
Beautiful baby Daughter
My wee sweetie scone was 12 in October, starsign Libra but really and truly should be a fiery Scorpio, she was early, as all my children were, thoughtful of them, mind you they've never been early for anything since. All of them should have been a different starsign, EBD def is an Aries and TBS is so much more like a Cancerian.
Is very artistic and creative, has always drawn, collaged, painted and created things, no idea where that came from but she has always loved that kind of thing. She also loves Brain Training and Sudoko. Loves Trampolining too, she is always doing something.
Is the most generous and caring wee thing, she sent me a text message at work the other day saying text me when you're 5 minutes away, so I did and when I got home I found she's got a fleecy throw for the sofa and made me a huge mug of coffee and toasted me a cinnamon and raisin bagel as she knew it was a day I didn't get a lunchbreak. How kind and thoughtful is she ?
She is the fussiest eater in the world, and would live on Heinz tomato soup and chips and chocolate if you'd let her. When she goes to friends houses I am told she will eat anything, isn't that annoying when that happens ? Annoying being the polite term for it. Loves hot chocolate but no whipped cream. Is turning into a shopper extrordinaire like her sister. Is a bit addicted to Build a Bear. Claire's accessories is a big fave too. If she has money, she has to spend it.
Usually comes as a package deal, either you get her and a friend, quite often Emily or Isobel and Joanna, or she's at their house, it's pretty good as they are all fab wee girls, I hope their mothers don't mind. These friends in particular are so easy to have around, it's really like they're part of the family, the house can be messy and you don't need to do anything to entertain them, they just toddle along and fit in, mind you, their Mothers are pretty awesome women who are good friends of mine too, I couldn't have got through the last few years without Susan and Christina, the tears of mine they've dried .
Is the only child of mine who can get up in the mornings, I'm not saying she's good but she can actually get out of bed. She has a lovely collection of fleecy pyjamas and the moment I wake her up and snuggle and cuddle her in her bed is my favourite moment of the day, it's just like having her as a baby again, she still looks really young when she's asleep. Still continues to suck her thumb despite all bribes (including a pet) if she gives up, she has her thumb in pretty much at all times, only takes it out to talk and eat.
Will never admit she is wrong and will have an answer for everything hence her nickname of Little Miss Last Word, also is known as Pussy Cat and Tootsie MacFluff, she could debate for Scotland and talks non stop. Can never let anything go, keeps persisting, it can be extremely tiring. She thinks she will make me change my mind by keeping talking till my ears bleed, she is wrong, she has tried for a decade to get a pet, she loves all animals, we remain pet free, when Mummy says no, she means no, yes I know I can be a remarkably mean Mummy. BBD is still trying to change my mind, I have a sneaky suspicion she will still be asking me when she's 25. She really thinks she is the Mummy in the house, she has very firm and strict views on things.
Works incredibly hard at school, is ferociously bright, far too clever for us. Loves to help me with work, especially making me powerpoint presentations. Before Christmas made a fantastic gapped handout on cells for my year 10's ! Will almost certainly become a teacher, before becoming a headmistress and then will become Prime Minister. She will achieve anything she sets her mind to, has a tremendous force of will and did not inherit the can't be arsedness gene I have passed on to Eldest Beautiful Daughter and The Beautiful Son.
Loves music and dancing, will perform as many shows as you will watch in a day, gave up ballet which made me sad, she was very good and all right she looked very beautiful in a tutu, EBD also gave up, she was desperate, no co ordination whatsoever but did look nice, see decorative not functional. BBD also has a lovely singing voice, another thing she didn't inherit from her mother. Has a different taste in music than us likes Girls Aloud and Take That, but likes The Killers too.
Is also very like me in temperament and also in looks. She is not as dark as EBD and I but if I posted photos of me, EBD and BBD as small girls it is uncanny. She showed her dad a photo of her sister when she was 2 pretending it was her and he didn't notice. Has the most glorious glorious hair and hates it, in the summer it gets the most fantastic titian highlights and all she wants to do is cut it off, it gets very tuggy and she hates that. It really is her crowning glory and photos never do the colour justice but she doesn't like it.
So my little baby, growing up and needing me less in some ways but more in others. She is enthusiastic and really throws herself into things. Is very sensitive and takes things far too much to heart. Where would I be without her ? she completes our family just perfectly and she is loved. Much loved and I hope she always has her tremendous zest for life and that heart of hers which is huge and open to all.
Friday, 9 January 2009
Meet The Weans... part deux
The Beautiful Son
A gentle and thoughtful wee soul but with a modicum of mayhem inside. Will be 14 in June. Remains the child that seems to need me the most. Will always elect to sit beside me and be physically attached to me in some way, very easy and cute when he was a toddler but much more tricky now he is bigger than me. When we walk together he always puts his arm around my shoulders like his dad used to.
Worries about the state of the world, my self absorbed daughters wouldn't have a baldy about what's going on in Gaza, but it's fretting him, especially when it involves children or mummies, his worst fear is not having me, he is and always has been a big mammy's boy. Also has a really strong set of morals and social justice, he has empathy in abundance, I am extremely proud of his humanity.
Loves his rugby, supports Scotland of course, likes Gloucester ( because of Chris Patterson) and also likes Leicester Tigers. Plays for a club and school team, position is usually flanker and very patiently explains every kick or touch of the ball to me when we watch together, never gets irritated by me getting my knock on's in the wrong place, I like to join in, you see.
Plays the electric guitar really well and has a fantastic singing voice but would never get up and perform. Also loves music, stuff like Linkin Park, Foo Fighters and no big surprise The Killers. Has real problems at parties, is actually quite shy and hates going to large gatherings where he doesn't know people. Copes fantastically well at home, come visit us and he'll be grand, not so good out of his own comfortable environment.
For all his fantastic qualities, he is quite horrible to his younger sister, winds her up no end, he is 16 months older and they used to be so incredibly close, they did everything together then he went to middle school and it stopped, she has never quite recovered from that. It is a source of ongoing low level worry and annoyance to me.
Is a complete work shy article, will do the bare minimum and has even created a file which he updates every time he makes me a cup of coffee, so he can produce it in evidence when we complain about his lazy ass. And we do complain, a lot, poor boy, can't be easy living in the House of Oestrogen and Pre Menstrual Tension.
Very popular with his peers and with the young ladies, doesn't seem too interested in that direction at the moment. Wanders around the house saying (in a very exaggerated Scottish accent) " I'm so gorgeous and so sexy" we let him be, it's good to have a dream.
Has a tremendous sense of humour, it's a bit school boyish, no surprise there, but is good at funny accents, impersonations etc. Has a brilliant laugh too, all my kids have, it's really infectious. Spends a lot of time on Youtube looking at funny videos, also spends a lot of time on his Xbox 360 or his PSP.
Can eat his own body weight daily, takes the all you can eat buffet stuff as a personal challenge, is very interested in food and enjoys cooking, not with me obviously but with his dad or with other non failed grown ups. Has coffee with milk and 2 sugars, and is a committed carnivore, loves a bacon butty with ketchup. Will happily drink any alcohol you're daft enough to give him.
Sleeps a lot, not good in the mornings ( familial trait, that) Has to be called at least 6 times to get up for school. Still has the teddy bears from his infancy on his bed, also has my teddy from when I was a baby there, doesn't bother him at all, none of his mates even comment, they've been there since the day we moved into this house 9 years ago.
Still classes me as his favourite person in the world and I feel very proud to have such a beautiful son. The person he chooses to share his life with will be incredibly lucky and I look forward to seeing the man he will become.
Thursday, 8 January 2009
Meet The Weans
Just in case you're new here, I thought I would start off the New Year introducing you to the cast of players who make up auntiegwens house of fun. I'm going to get someone to do mine so you get a truthful account.
Eldest beautiful Daughter
A gorgeous mixture of part adult part baby, she'll be 17 in March, her mental age is somewhere around 4, I'll spring for driving lessons when she's managed to walk around Topshop without skipping, clapping her hands and making oooh noises when she sees something she likes. Commonly known as decorative not functional.
Is brighter than most people believe, is often described as "ditsy" but can occasionally engage brain.
Has a crew of matey boys who adore her beyond reason, will have mad mental crushes on people for about 2 weeks, they will fall madly in love with her, about 17 minutes after that happens she is bored to death of them. She has actually stopped dating people now as she has bored herself with this behaviour. She has willpower. Tremendous willpower.
Is overly fond of the "would you still love me if I was..." game, recently included fat, a nun, a frog, a vampire and lastly had a face like a hippo.
Has no real clue what she wants to be, thought about doing a drama degree at Glasgow Royal College of Music and Drama (at no point did I complain or even raise eyebrow at the thought of me shelling out £18,000 for her to be the corpse in Taggart) then thought of doing a degree in Psychiatric Nursing (again, I didn't even question her on the problem of her being mistaken for the patient) I would lay money on it that she'll end up a teacher. She has about a year to decide, oh feck now I'm scared.
Sleeps a lot, usually at the wrong time of day, truly is not a morning person, see the top photo, sleeps in boys boxer shorts from Topman and a very ancient old Billy Connolly T shirt that I used to sleep in ! Is a veggie like me, no meat, fish, eggs or poultry, would happily live on tinned spaghetti hoops and tinned sweetcorn and drinks builders tea with 2 sugars. Will appear drunk if given a family size bag of Skittles and can only have about 2 alcoholic drinks before falling over. 2 weeks ago woke me up by loudly bouncing off the walls and saying " Shush, shush, you'll wake Mummy" I went out to see who she'd brought home and found she was shushing herself, out of her head on 2 alcopops and stone mad to boot.
Has a very bad shoe habit, streemly fond of Mary Janes, esp double strapped, but has a problem with toe cleavage, she cannot bear her feet and will always cover them up, will make everyone in the house cover their feet and God help them if the accidently touch her with their feet, it is a very bad thing to do. Holidays are a nightmare, esp on the beach !
Is currently obsessed with Twilight, books and film. Loves her laptop more than most people love their children, has her mobile phone spot welded to her and spends a disproportionate ammount of time on Myspace but is less keen on facebook. Loves music and going to gigs, has fairly eclectic taste, has seen My Chemical Romance, Lost Prophets, The Killers and Bloc Party, Glasvegas and White Lies. Music has to be very loud. She has 2 ipod nano's and 1 is supposed to live in the kitchen in a dock thingy, it is never there, why does she need 2 ??????
Is spookily and scarily like me, in looks, in temperament, in mannerisms, in sayings. She is taller, slimmer and has significantly less grey hair and wrinkles but she is truly her Mother's daughter.
Has been since the day she was born a beautiful child, this is hard to believe when you see the truly appalingly messy room her vision of lovliness emerges from, she is great fun and I am extremely grateful she still is happy to spend time with me, go away for weekends with me, and most importantly talk to me, I hope that never changes.
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Failed or Refused Grown Up ?
I am truly a responsible person. I parent my children, go to work, pay my credit card bill IN FULL every month, shop, cook (ok, heat up), do laundry, clean and run a house that sometimes resembles a 6th form college or on a bad day, a zoo and stand back in amazement, I even did my tax return IN OCTOBER (more capitals for emphasis)
My disclaimer, dear readers if you will.
However...
There are some aspects of my life that differ distinctly from my beautiful friends. I am seriously blessed with my friends, and I love them, there is not one of them I wouldn't give a kidney to, I have a lovely collection and they are all quite different but they are all grown ups. I have been where they are now, with my fitted kitchen with Nigella books and Cath Kidston tea towels. I have baked cakes and made kitchen curtains and I have spent hours making things out of old tissue boxes with the children. I have attended school concerts, dance recitals, rugby matches, prize givings, etc etc etc but I never did join the PTA. I always helped out at fetes, sold the raffle tickets, went to the pop quizzes and wine tastings but never became a card carrying member, it always just seemed too far from the punk I used to be.
I have realised that I will never be a domestic goddess and I'm good with that, I seem to equate that side of life with when I was married and the children were small and that has gone and I'm not sad about it. I'm not saying you can't be a mummy/domestic goddess/fab fun sex kitten all at the same time, just that my brain doesn't allow me to be.
On Christmas Day, my dear dear friend Sixy, her bidey in and their baby came to visit me and as she is a domestic goddess, herself had made me a bottle of mulled wine. So she's being very Nigella like ( except she's blond, same mane of tumbling curls but blond) in my kitchen whilst being watched by my children, entranced by the sight of a Mummy stirring serenely at the stove as opposed to me attacking the kitchen at a million miles an hour, throwing stuff on baking trays whilst yelling at them to clear the kitchen table of the debris of their day and simultaneously texting, marking and helping Mel with her man problems.
We watched this lovely sight for a while then Sixy asks me for a sieve, now I know I used to have 1 in my other life but I am completely at a loss as to where it can be, so we look for a bit and the Eldest Beautiful Daughter says tenderly " Poor Mummy, you're a failed grown up" which makes us all laugh. Then a suggestion is made that we use a pair of tights, I don't fancy this much as my hold ups cost me £8.25 per pair, I'm not using them to strain wine, do you think they are appreciated £8.25 worth ? I wonder. There is a lot of hilarity about my not being a proper grown up and I make myself feel better by realising I would rather be a champagne drinking, gig going, sneaky smoking, hold up wearing me than a me with a sieve.
My disclaimer, dear readers if you will.
However...
There are some aspects of my life that differ distinctly from my beautiful friends. I am seriously blessed with my friends, and I love them, there is not one of them I wouldn't give a kidney to, I have a lovely collection and they are all quite different but they are all grown ups. I have been where they are now, with my fitted kitchen with Nigella books and Cath Kidston tea towels. I have baked cakes and made kitchen curtains and I have spent hours making things out of old tissue boxes with the children. I have attended school concerts, dance recitals, rugby matches, prize givings, etc etc etc but I never did join the PTA. I always helped out at fetes, sold the raffle tickets, went to the pop quizzes and wine tastings but never became a card carrying member, it always just seemed too far from the punk I used to be.
I have realised that I will never be a domestic goddess and I'm good with that, I seem to equate that side of life with when I was married and the children were small and that has gone and I'm not sad about it. I'm not saying you can't be a mummy/domestic goddess/fab fun sex kitten all at the same time, just that my brain doesn't allow me to be.
On Christmas Day, my dear dear friend Sixy, her bidey in and their baby came to visit me and as she is a domestic goddess, herself had made me a bottle of mulled wine. So she's being very Nigella like ( except she's blond, same mane of tumbling curls but blond) in my kitchen whilst being watched by my children, entranced by the sight of a Mummy stirring serenely at the stove as opposed to me attacking the kitchen at a million miles an hour, throwing stuff on baking trays whilst yelling at them to clear the kitchen table of the debris of their day and simultaneously texting, marking and helping Mel with her man problems.
We watched this lovely sight for a while then Sixy asks me for a sieve, now I know I used to have 1 in my other life but I am completely at a loss as to where it can be, so we look for a bit and the Eldest Beautiful Daughter says tenderly " Poor Mummy, you're a failed grown up" which makes us all laugh. Then a suggestion is made that we use a pair of tights, I don't fancy this much as my hold ups cost me £8.25 per pair, I'm not using them to strain wine, do you think they are appreciated £8.25 worth ? I wonder. There is a lot of hilarity about my not being a proper grown up and I make myself feel better by realising I would rather be a champagne drinking, gig going, sneaky smoking, hold up wearing me than a me with a sieve.
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Happy Hogmanay
For the last few years I have been unhappy on Hogmanay.
In 2005 I was very unhappy in my marriage and it ended in 2006.
In 2006 it was the first Hogmanay since 1985 I was without Gordon, although he did spend it at my house but again, painful for both of us.
Last year in 2007 I woke up knowing I was in a relationship that was making me profoundly unhappy and I was getting ready to take my children away for New Year with my ex boyfriend Ken, his children and his sister and her friends. That was a horrible time for me and mine, 2 out of my 3 children didn't prefer him but I felt responsible to try and make it work as I had brought him into my children's lives and I never wanted to introduce them to a succession of new partners. I stopped seeing him just after New Year to my immediate nearest and dearests great relief.
Last weekend Ken's children came to stay with me, his ex wife and I liased over this, I liked her immensely, I was incredibly fond of his children and they have kept in touch with myself and my children. I didn't realise how much they missed me, it was so good to see them again. After hours of chat with his ex wife I realised that I never really knew him at all, the lies he told us both, he gave me what I wanted to hear, mush a plenty, he found my weak spot and emotionally shape shifted to be what I wanted. His ex wife couldn't recognise the man I was dating and I realise now what a mutually delusional 6 months we had, I've had a lucky escape.
Someone who knows me too well remarked last month that he thought I didn't really love Ken at all, he's read every word on this blog and knows me well enough to comment. It was a bit of a double edged sword for him to read and I think he found it difficult in the beginning to read all I blogged about my past.
I never write any of the mushy stuff about him, not because it's not there and definitely not because he's less important, I think I've kept it more to myself because it was so out there last time and because this man is private and I never want him to feel that I've said something that he is uncomfortable with. It can't be easy knowing that potentially everything could be offered up for blog mates scrutiny.
So this morning, Hogmanay 2008, I woke up completely at peace with my life, having had another one of my perfect nights with everything I wanted. I wish all of you, dear readers, to have that feeling too this 2009.
And I wish us more of us.
Monday, 29 December 2008
Romantasyland
Once upon a time in the far away kingdom of Romantasyland lived a maiden, okay, a maiden who was old enough to know better.
She thought she had met and married her Prince, sadly he turned out to be a toad but undeterred our heroine kept kissing frogs, waiting for her Prince, she never gave up on the idea of romance.
Enter our dashing hero, 6 foot 1 of pure muscle, fair of hair (plenty of it too, the maiden was impressed, she's used to short, middle aged bald men) and blue of eye, the maiden was a bit bowled over.
Like all good fairytales the path of true love never runs smoothly, the maiden had a nasty habit of demanding mush and romance and wanting to talk about their relationship and the dashing hero was after all, a bloke, and a Northern bloke at that.
The maiden remarked to the dashing hero that most couples have a honeymoon period where there is an abundance of romance and mush before reality sets in but that they had seemed to go straight to the reality stage.
Our dashing hero agreed that indeed their relationship had always been real and stated in what he may have thought to be a concillatory fashion "There's more than one way to skin a cat"
Quite.
She thought she had met and married her Prince, sadly he turned out to be a toad but undeterred our heroine kept kissing frogs, waiting for her Prince, she never gave up on the idea of romance.
Enter our dashing hero, 6 foot 1 of pure muscle, fair of hair (plenty of it too, the maiden was impressed, she's used to short, middle aged bald men) and blue of eye, the maiden was a bit bowled over.
Like all good fairytales the path of true love never runs smoothly, the maiden had a nasty habit of demanding mush and romance and wanting to talk about their relationship and the dashing hero was after all, a bloke, and a Northern bloke at that.
The maiden remarked to the dashing hero that most couples have a honeymoon period where there is an abundance of romance and mush before reality sets in but that they had seemed to go straight to the reality stage.
Our dashing hero agreed that indeed their relationship had always been real and stated in what he may have thought to be a concillatory fashion "There's more than one way to skin a cat"
Quite.
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
How the hell did I do that ?
I was in the middle of changing the bed when I got a text. I love getting texted, really and truly, I am like a teenager with texts. The text was from my good friend Sixy saying, see my blog. So I log on and read how her beloved bidey in had proposed in his sleep, and she wonders if he can legally be held to this if he was asleep.
Incidentally, I was bumping my gums a few weeks ago about throwing away a marriage proposal and I didn't give my other lovely proposal a mention, if you read this (and I'm fairly sure you will) I still have your text from 22nd June saying "but I'm driving and can't type! oh sod it, will u marry me ?" Who says romance is dead, eh ?, no kiss either, never mind your soft and tender x at the end, no feckin x at all at the end, my boy !
Anyway, while I get distracted with all this nonsense I manage to lose one of my pillows, I always have 4, now I can only find 3, how the hell did I manage to do that? So my bed looks lopsided now. Sometimes my life is weird.
Incidentally, I was bumping my gums a few weeks ago about throwing away a marriage proposal and I didn't give my other lovely proposal a mention, if you read this (and I'm fairly sure you will) I still have your text from 22nd June saying "but I'm driving and can't type! oh sod it, will u marry me ?" Who says romance is dead, eh ?, no kiss either, never mind your soft and tender x at the end, no feckin x at all at the end, my boy !
Anyway, while I get distracted with all this nonsense I manage to lose one of my pillows, I always have 4, now I can only find 3, how the hell did I manage to do that? So my bed looks lopsided now. Sometimes my life is weird.
Sunday, 21 December 2008
Being a Teenager again
My mammy is visiting me at the moment so that has meant a total reversal to my teenage state, she is feeding me, tidying up after me and generally minding me.
I think I took it too far when I arrived home from my big night out much later than I said I'd be. I drove up the driveway with the cd and headlights turned off. Creeping in quietly so as not to wake her, yes I know I'm 42 and it's my house but old habits die hard.
But even if she had grounded me it would have so been worth it because it was such a special night out, one of my very, very best.
I think I took it too far when I arrived home from my big night out much later than I said I'd be. I drove up the driveway with the cd and headlights turned off. Creeping in quietly so as not to wake her, yes I know I'm 42 and it's my house but old habits die hard.
But even if she had grounded me it would have so been worth it because it was such a special night out, one of my very, very best.
Friday, 19 December 2008
All I want for Christmas
Busy busy girl this week, so shamelessly in a time saving effort, I have recycled an email I received this week. Actually I would quite happily post all the correspondence as it's extremely funny in an off the wall sort of vein but I hope they don't mind me posting this.
My special name that only they use,
I can't guess and this stuff isn't cheap so please choose your Xmas present and I'll do the rest.
Thanks.
x
So, what do you think would be the cut of auntiegwen's jib ?
My special name that only they use,
I can't guess and this stuff isn't cheap so please choose your Xmas present and I'll do the rest.
Thanks.
x
So, what do you think would be the cut of auntiegwen's jib ?
Monday, 15 December 2008
Last Week of Term
Can you hear the glad tidings ? Can you hear the whoop whoop auntiegwen happy noise ? I have only this week to go and then I finish for two whole weeks, how good is that ?
I have had a particularly horrible term, I usually love teaching but I have a very challenging group (that's the technical term for it, I have another one myself ...) I knew it was bad when someone who knows me too well made my New Year Resolution for me and it was to apply for 3 new jobs ! Sorry, you have had to listen to a lot but I am grateful really !
This week I have to be observed 3 times, by my head of department, by a student and by a colleague, no pressure then as our students remain completely focused and engaged in their learning, as it their wont until the very last minute of term as I'm sure you can imagine all teenagers do, they are so on form, especially on the last day of school before Christmas.
Today I got an email from the head asking me if tomorrow afternoon my (particularly challenging) class would be able to help out at our Old Age Pensioners party that the school holds every year. Obviously he hasn't met them en masse.
Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph, haven't these pensioners suffered enough ? Surviving a world war, maybe 2 wars, rationing, pensions and houses being worth fourpence and a caramel, the choice between eating or dying of hypothermia and any ill health they may have and what have got to look forward to ? A party at the local high school ?
It's almost worth giving up smoking, drinking and eating anything remotely tasty just to stay alive long enough for my year 12's to come along with ipod earphones a dangling, gum hinging out and all the "Huh's well goods, innits and that's sick man" they can hope to hear in an afternoon, complete with the beautiful attire of trousers hanging off their arse with at least 6 inches of boxers on show. Oh yes, they'll be pleased they've lived long enough to see the youth of today.
On a more serious note, the students may surprise me, they may be the charming and polite teenager their parent hopes that they'll be. I live in hope.
I have had a particularly horrible term, I usually love teaching but I have a very challenging group (that's the technical term for it, I have another one myself ...) I knew it was bad when someone who knows me too well made my New Year Resolution for me and it was to apply for 3 new jobs ! Sorry, you have had to listen to a lot but I am grateful really !
This week I have to be observed 3 times, by my head of department, by a student and by a colleague, no pressure then as our students remain completely focused and engaged in their learning, as it their wont until the very last minute of term as I'm sure you can imagine all teenagers do, they are so on form, especially on the last day of school before Christmas.
Today I got an email from the head asking me if tomorrow afternoon my (particularly challenging) class would be able to help out at our Old Age Pensioners party that the school holds every year. Obviously he hasn't met them en masse.
Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph, haven't these pensioners suffered enough ? Surviving a world war, maybe 2 wars, rationing, pensions and houses being worth fourpence and a caramel, the choice between eating or dying of hypothermia and any ill health they may have and what have got to look forward to ? A party at the local high school ?
It's almost worth giving up smoking, drinking and eating anything remotely tasty just to stay alive long enough for my year 12's to come along with ipod earphones a dangling, gum hinging out and all the "Huh's well goods, innits and that's sick man" they can hope to hear in an afternoon, complete with the beautiful attire of trousers hanging off their arse with at least 6 inches of boxers on show. Oh yes, they'll be pleased they've lived long enough to see the youth of today.
On a more serious note, the students may surprise me, they may be the charming and polite teenager their parent hopes that they'll be. I live in hope.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Things your mammy says.
I seem to say the same things over again to my children usually "Would you give yourself peace" To be fair I say this to everyone but I'm sure they'll always associate it with me. When I was little my mammy used to have a huge collection of sayings, one in particular would now be seen as offensive in our ultra pc society, so I haven't included it in case I offend anyone but here are a few gems from my mammy. Including translations. Some of them don't make a lot of sense but she said them all the same.
If you died wi a face like that naebdy would wash it. Please stop sulking
I'll gie ye yer heid in yer hauns tae play wi. When asked for something to play with/to do as I was bored.
You'll have me in a pine box, you have my heart scalded. You will be the death of me.
The road to Hell is paved wi good intentions. Just do what you were meant to do and don't make excuses
Do you think I came up the Clyde on a banana boat ? sometimes for emphasis she would say "Do you think I came up the Clyde on a banana boat swinging a bag o totties ?" Do you think I'll believe anything ?
Hinging tae my lip shouting Tarzan. I have no idea where your (insert 70's toy of your choice) eg stylophone/clackers/spacehopper is !
Your soul is as black as The Earl of Hell's waistcoat. You are very naughty.
That last one's proving just a little too phrophetic for me at the moment.
If you died wi a face like that naebdy would wash it. Please stop sulking
I'll gie ye yer heid in yer hauns tae play wi. When asked for something to play with/to do as I was bored.
You'll have me in a pine box, you have my heart scalded. You will be the death of me.
The road to Hell is paved wi good intentions. Just do what you were meant to do and don't make excuses
Do you think I came up the Clyde on a banana boat ? sometimes for emphasis she would say "Do you think I came up the Clyde on a banana boat swinging a bag o totties ?" Do you think I'll believe anything ?
Hinging tae my lip shouting Tarzan. I have no idea where your (insert 70's toy of your choice) eg stylophone/clackers/spacehopper is !
Your soul is as black as The Earl of Hell's waistcoat. You are very naughty.
That last one's proving just a little too phrophetic for me at the moment.
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
"I'm telling on you"
Four words that make my heart sink as I know I'm going to have to referee yet another bloody disagreement.
Tonight The Beautiful Son and Beautiful Baby Daughter were engaged in their favourite sport of annoy your sibling, my children can do this to Olympic standard and their dedication to perfecting this to an art form is unparallelled.
The bicker this evening was because BBD put the kitchen light off as she left the room but TBS was still in there finishing his yoghurt. This caused some yelling and both of them tear through to moan at me as is their wont. I hate this behaviour, the "I'm telling on you" stuff, I find it tedious and infuriating. BBD reasoned that as I am always telling them to turn lights off when they leave a room, she was just doing as requested, and that TBS didn't need light to eat a frube. I have mentioned before that BBD is also known as Little Miss Last Word and can never be wrong (I wonder where she gets that from ?)
So before the last vein in my head explodes I use my Queen of the Nasty Whisper voice, it's quite scary and they vamoose upstairs, it's a fairly low tone and is usually uttered through a very tightly clenched jaw and goes a bit like this
"foryourownsafetyiwouldrecommendthatyouleavethisroomimmediatelyandfindsomethingtodothatiwouldconsideruseful"
So what do I do then ? I phone my mammy and tell tales on them ! Oh yes, the faults I hate in others are the ones I have in abundance myself. So I have a right old whinge to my mammy about their behaviour and about the fact that no one does anything to help me and how perpetually knackered I am and she speaks to each one of my children and tells them off ! She makes them promise to do more to help me around the house and suitably chastened they disappear to tidy their bedrooms.
So I now know why they persist in telling tales because your mammy makes nice to you, gives you lots of sympathy and sorts it out for you.
ps My mammy is the nicest woman in the world, truly she is, she always finds a good word for everyone, this is my disclaimer, now read what she said to me, this was after I'd stopped whinging and she's told them off, this was when we were having a proper chat
auntiegwen - Gordon's (who I used to be married to, still technically am, but my weans dad) broken his toe. He doesn't know how he did it but I had a look and it's def broken
mammy - is it hurting him then ?
auntiegwen - yeah, he says it's really sore
mammy - good, I hope it's louping (very painful)
That made us both laugh and I felt a lot better, I love my mammy
Tonight The Beautiful Son and Beautiful Baby Daughter were engaged in their favourite sport of annoy your sibling, my children can do this to Olympic standard and their dedication to perfecting this to an art form is unparallelled.
The bicker this evening was because BBD put the kitchen light off as she left the room but TBS was still in there finishing his yoghurt. This caused some yelling and both of them tear through to moan at me as is their wont. I hate this behaviour, the "I'm telling on you" stuff, I find it tedious and infuriating. BBD reasoned that as I am always telling them to turn lights off when they leave a room, she was just doing as requested, and that TBS didn't need light to eat a frube. I have mentioned before that BBD is also known as Little Miss Last Word and can never be wrong (I wonder where she gets that from ?)
So before the last vein in my head explodes I use my Queen of the Nasty Whisper voice, it's quite scary and they vamoose upstairs, it's a fairly low tone and is usually uttered through a very tightly clenched jaw and goes a bit like this
"foryourownsafetyiwouldrecommendthatyouleavethisroomimmediatelyandfindsomethingtodothatiwouldconsideruseful"
So what do I do then ? I phone my mammy and tell tales on them ! Oh yes, the faults I hate in others are the ones I have in abundance myself. So I have a right old whinge to my mammy about their behaviour and about the fact that no one does anything to help me and how perpetually knackered I am and she speaks to each one of my children and tells them off ! She makes them promise to do more to help me around the house and suitably chastened they disappear to tidy their bedrooms.
So I now know why they persist in telling tales because your mammy makes nice to you, gives you lots of sympathy and sorts it out for you.
ps My mammy is the nicest woman in the world, truly she is, she always finds a good word for everyone, this is my disclaimer, now read what she said to me, this was after I'd stopped whinging and she's told them off, this was when we were having a proper chat
auntiegwen - Gordon's (who I used to be married to, still technically am, but my weans dad) broken his toe. He doesn't know how he did it but I had a look and it's def broken
mammy - is it hurting him then ?
auntiegwen - yeah, he says it's really sore
mammy - good, I hope it's louping (very painful)
That made us both laugh and I felt a lot better, I love my mammy
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Ho Ho Ho
Every year I don't want to think about Christmas till December and then every year around the first week in December I realise why everyone else starts in October, beacause it takes so much feckin time !!!!!
I have not started my Christmas shopping yet, today is the day I am going to venture into town and accomplish the buying of all the gifts that are on my as yet unwritten list. This will include all the stocking fillers that my 3 beloved and bigger than me children still expect.
I will also have to buy the Crabtree and Evelyn Noel candles, room spray and oil (that you put on top of a wee metal ring on your light bulb and it diffuses the scent) I will also have to buy old fashioned not very eco friendly light bulbs to put the ring on. I also need Whittards special Christmas hot chocolate powder (£5 per tin last about a week so need 4 to see the girls through to New year) I also need some new tree lights, wrapping paper, tape and Christmas cards as I have actually managed to post any for the last 2 years, if you saw me you got one if you didn't, sorry !
After I accomplish these tasks, which should take about an hour or so, purchasing gifts and such for all my 3 and my extended family, I shall stop and have a leisurely Christmas coffee in Starbucks, where I haven't been since the red cups came out as it will be empty 2 weeks before Christmas and I'll have the place to myself, ditto the parking, it'll be a breeze to pop in and get a place less than 10 miles from where I want to go.
On my return I will retrieve the tree and decorations from the attic and I will spend many hours assembling and decorating the tree and in a spirit of joyfullness and gladness to all my offspring who would care to help me. Not once will I mention that they are making the tree look like a tinkers dog. I like my tree to have clear lights and 1 colour of decs usually gold, my children favour a more colourful approach.
This should take me till around 6pm when my friend will arrive and will spend at least 3 hours telling me her latest man troubles, I will of course be extremely sympathetic about this even though I know all 3 verses and the disco chorus and sing along to them on a weekly basis. I will be ever so supportive and will find myself agreeing to spending more hours in bars looking for men with her as I will be distracted by cooking the childrens tea, signing homework diaries, finding lost kit and getting the uniforms ready for the next day.
At around 10 pm I will load the dishwasher and start to prepare my year 10's structure and mechanism of the heart lesson I should have finished yesterday but didn't as it took me so long to finish my year 12's marking. I will them prepare the craft activity I have to do with my mums and babies tomorrow at my parenting skills class, it's lovely, I am going to do the babies hand or foor prints in gold or silver on black card and put them in these pre bought tree decorations. I only have to write baby ---- first Christmas in calligraphy, and I only have a dozen.
At stupid o clock I will flop into bed wondering where my day went and I will spend a few hours trying to work out how I can get 3 days to visit my parents when I have to work on the 22nd Dec and the 2 youngest have to be with their Dad on the 24th and then again on the 26th through till New Year, actually January 2nd. I think the only thing to do is drive up after work on the 22nd and drive down late on the 23rd as thats the only time I have my full compliment of offspring so they can see my parents.
I'd much rather stay in bed. Preferably with someone making me a cup of coffee and reading me a story till I fall asleep.
I have not started my Christmas shopping yet, today is the day I am going to venture into town and accomplish the buying of all the gifts that are on my as yet unwritten list. This will include all the stocking fillers that my 3 beloved and bigger than me children still expect.
I will also have to buy the Crabtree and Evelyn Noel candles, room spray and oil (that you put on top of a wee metal ring on your light bulb and it diffuses the scent) I will also have to buy old fashioned not very eco friendly light bulbs to put the ring on. I also need Whittards special Christmas hot chocolate powder (£5 per tin last about a week so need 4 to see the girls through to New year) I also need some new tree lights, wrapping paper, tape and Christmas cards as I have actually managed to post any for the last 2 years, if you saw me you got one if you didn't, sorry !
After I accomplish these tasks, which should take about an hour or so, purchasing gifts and such for all my 3 and my extended family, I shall stop and have a leisurely Christmas coffee in Starbucks, where I haven't been since the red cups came out as it will be empty 2 weeks before Christmas and I'll have the place to myself, ditto the parking, it'll be a breeze to pop in and get a place less than 10 miles from where I want to go.
On my return I will retrieve the tree and decorations from the attic and I will spend many hours assembling and decorating the tree and in a spirit of joyfullness and gladness to all my offspring who would care to help me. Not once will I mention that they are making the tree look like a tinkers dog. I like my tree to have clear lights and 1 colour of decs usually gold, my children favour a more colourful approach.
This should take me till around 6pm when my friend will arrive and will spend at least 3 hours telling me her latest man troubles, I will of course be extremely sympathetic about this even though I know all 3 verses and the disco chorus and sing along to them on a weekly basis. I will be ever so supportive and will find myself agreeing to spending more hours in bars looking for men with her as I will be distracted by cooking the childrens tea, signing homework diaries, finding lost kit and getting the uniforms ready for the next day.
At around 10 pm I will load the dishwasher and start to prepare my year 10's structure and mechanism of the heart lesson I should have finished yesterday but didn't as it took me so long to finish my year 12's marking. I will them prepare the craft activity I have to do with my mums and babies tomorrow at my parenting skills class, it's lovely, I am going to do the babies hand or foor prints in gold or silver on black card and put them in these pre bought tree decorations. I only have to write baby ---- first Christmas in calligraphy, and I only have a dozen.
At stupid o clock I will flop into bed wondering where my day went and I will spend a few hours trying to work out how I can get 3 days to visit my parents when I have to work on the 22nd Dec and the 2 youngest have to be with their Dad on the 24th and then again on the 26th through till New Year, actually January 2nd. I think the only thing to do is drive up after work on the 22nd and drive down late on the 23rd as thats the only time I have my full compliment of offspring so they can see my parents.
I'd much rather stay in bed. Preferably with someone making me a cup of coffee and reading me a story till I fall asleep.
Saturday, 6 December 2008
I want one of those
Yesterday Beautiful Eldest daughter went to joecryor's (beloved, beloved matey boy, has probably taken over from the Matthew as the chief matey boy, and we know how beloved the Matthew was, and if you don't know, shame on you for not keeping up !)
She was streemly tired after a very late night and a drama xam and do you know what this lovely boy did ?
He made her a cup of tea (now I did know this but you probably didn't yourself, joecryor makes the best tea in the world)
He put her into his bed, tucked her up, and whilst she drank the best tea in the world, he read her a story, it was I believe Mr Birthday from the Mr Men collection and he stayed with her till she fell asleep.
What a fab way to spend a cold dreich rainy Friday afternoon.
I want a joecryor, he is the loveliest boy in the world, after TBS, actually it's a tough call which one I prefer and that is SAYING SOMETHING (in capitals for emphasis)
ps he is normally referred to as joecryor as we have 3 matey boys with the first name of Joe,
But joecryor is the best
pps as I typed this The Beautiful Son has just brought me breakfast in bed, I love my boy so I have to say joecryor is the boy I love the best that I didn't give birth to, I'm sure you'll agree it's still very high praise !
She was streemly tired after a very late night and a drama xam and do you know what this lovely boy did ?
He made her a cup of tea (now I did know this but you probably didn't yourself, joecryor makes the best tea in the world)
He put her into his bed, tucked her up, and whilst she drank the best tea in the world, he read her a story, it was I believe Mr Birthday from the Mr Men collection and he stayed with her till she fell asleep.
What a fab way to spend a cold dreich rainy Friday afternoon.
I want a joecryor, he is the loveliest boy in the world, after TBS, actually it's a tough call which one I prefer and that is SAYING SOMETHING (in capitals for emphasis)
ps he is normally referred to as joecryor as we have 3 matey boys with the first name of Joe,
But joecryor is the best
pps as I typed this The Beautiful Son has just brought me breakfast in bed, I love my boy so I have to say joecryor is the boy I love the best that I didn't give birth to, I'm sure you'll agree it's still very high praise !
Friday, 5 December 2008
Glasvegas and White Lies
Went back to see Glasvegas last night, this time in Wolverhampton. They were supported by this band White Lies, who were pretty awesome and got a great reception from the crowd.
I enjoyed Glasvegas more this time round. Pretty much the same songlist as Sheffield but with the addition of the new single "A Snowflake fell (and it felt like a kiss)" and the winner of the most cryptic song title of the decade "Fuck you, it's over" I nearly didn't recognize James Allan without his shades but he maybe felt he could do without them in Wolverhampton in December.
So what made this gig better than last time ? A mixture of things, I guess, there was a good crowd, plenty of beer getting thrown in the air, lots of moshing, people just seemed to be enjoying it more and there were more of us, the band seemed to be into it more too. Encores as well, there was a really brilliant bit where during the last song " Daddy's gone", the band left the stage and left us singing the " He's gone" refrain, a good moment to be part of. Fabulous support act in the White Lies, I'll go and see then again and an important point...
Starting time ?
9.45pm
Now that's what I call rock and roll. Primal Scream ? Would you give yourself peace !
Thursday, 4 December 2008
What did I do ?
Just to say a huge thank you to all who took the time to check if The Beautiful Son was ok after the hoo haa with the stolen bike, a big thanks to all who commented, emailed, texted and rang me, we really did appreciate it , ta muchly.
On Tuesday night in the midst of all the hoohaa over the stolen bike I was texted my friend Anne to tell her about TBS and she was texting me at the same time with this joke ! How strange was that ?
The joke said
If you saw me in the back of a police car, what crime do you think I'd have been arrested for ? reply to me and pass on.
So I sent this out to 10 people and their replies ?
My friend Vandana was worried about me and texted back immediately to check I was okay and Rob texted back that it was a very strange message. So 2 confused people.
My dear friends Sarah and Susan both thought that it could only mean I was helping the police or I'd broken down and needed a lift home, they couldn't imagine I'd done anything wrong.
My Eldest Beautiful Daughter thought I'd been sticking up for the underdog and had protested too much.
My sister thought that men got distracted by my bouncing bosoms when I was running and I had caused a car crash
My lovely Sixy thought it'd be drunk and disorderly.
My colleague thought I'd lost the plot and had done in my year 12's
Someone who knows me too well said drunk and disorderly or drug possession, thanks for that, again, my mother's so proud
and
1 friend, you know who you are, said it was for and I quote "Blow job in a public car park"
Quite,
So, a split down the middle mixture of good girl and bad girl, fair comment really.
ps - For the record, I am never disorderly when I'm drunk, I'm flirty then I'm asleep, there may be occasions when you have to hold my hair back but that's as bad as it gets, honest !
On Tuesday night in the midst of all the hoohaa over the stolen bike I was texted my friend Anne to tell her about TBS and she was texting me at the same time with this joke ! How strange was that ?
The joke said
If you saw me in the back of a police car, what crime do you think I'd have been arrested for ? reply to me and pass on.
So I sent this out to 10 people and their replies ?
My friend Vandana was worried about me and texted back immediately to check I was okay and Rob texted back that it was a very strange message. So 2 confused people.
My dear friends Sarah and Susan both thought that it could only mean I was helping the police or I'd broken down and needed a lift home, they couldn't imagine I'd done anything wrong.
My Eldest Beautiful Daughter thought I'd been sticking up for the underdog and had protested too much.
My sister thought that men got distracted by my bouncing bosoms when I was running and I had caused a car crash
My lovely Sixy thought it'd be drunk and disorderly.
My colleague thought I'd lost the plot and had done in my year 12's
Someone who knows me too well said drunk and disorderly or drug possession, thanks for that, again, my mother's so proud
and
1 friend, you know who you are, said it was for and I quote "Blow job in a public car park"
Quite,
So, a split down the middle mixture of good girl and bad girl, fair comment really.
ps - For the record, I am never disorderly when I'm drunk, I'm flirty then I'm asleep, there may be occasions when you have to hold my hair back but that's as bad as it gets, honest !
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Crime and Punishment
The Beautiful Son has a paper round where he delivers 24 papers 6 days a week for the princely sum of £9, yep that's right in rain, hail and snow he delivers for the grand sum of £1.50 per day, it takes him about an hour.
Yesterday as normal, he left his bike outside the shop and in the 90 seconds it took him to collect his bag, someone nicked his bike. There is nowhere to chain a bike too so all the paperboys just leave them leaning against the shop window. So my uncomplaining wee scone did his round on foot and arrived home ashen faced and very trembly wondering what had happened. He pondered a few scenarios and they were as followed
a - one of his mates had ridden it home for a joke
b - that he had lost it !
c - that it had been stolen
In a way I'm glad he has that naivety still, he kept asking me, how people could do that, he couldn't comprehend that people take things that belong to other people. He wondered what their parents would say when they came home with an extra bike. His last comment was that he didn't know how they could sleep at night.
The worst part of this for him was that it was his good mate Ollie's bike that had been stolen, my son's bike had had a puncture and his mate had very kindly lent him his bike, so my wee scone now has to tell his good mate that his bike's been stolen. My son couldn't eat his tea, he was meant to go to a party last night and just couldn't face it, we went round to his friends house to tell them but no one was in, so TBS just got more and more fretful and worked up about this.
When we did tell Ollie and his Mum, they couldn't have been kinder or more understanding, they were so reassuring to TBS that it wasn't his fault and that it wasn't a bike Ollie uses much, he'd outgrown it but still we felt badly and obviously Gordon and I have offered to pay any insurance excess or replace the bike for Ollie, as I say Ollie and his parents have been so understanding about this.
The horrible thing is that despite the CCTV in the shop they are unlikely to be caught and they will probably just mess about and wreck Ollies bike. What a waste. Why do they do this ? What makes them take things that don't belong to them ? People work hard to give their children nice things , what gives anyone the right to take what's not their's ? I grew up in a council estate in Glasgow, no one had pots of money and I'm sure I would have loved a new bike but I would never have taken someone elses because I knew it was stealing and I knew it was wrong. My kids know right from wrong, why don't others ? Do people think it's worth breaking the law because it's likely they'll just be told off and some Guardian reading probation officer will put it down to bad parenting and deprivation, bollocks to that, stealing is wrong and everyone knows that.
I phoned the police to report this and they were terribly nice, the lady I spoke to asked me if my son was hurt and I was slightly puzzled for a minute and then I realised that sometimes kids bikes are taken from them forcefully, and thankfully he wasn't and she also asked me if I had reported a crime to the police in the last 12 months and I truthfully said that I had never reported a crime in my whole life and she said " You're very fortunate in that and probably quite unusual"
And I very probably am, my children have grown up in this nice middle class bubble where a lot of the nastier stuff in life hasn't managed to penetrate. I wonder now if when they leave me to live in the less protected world where there are muggings and violence, will they be able for it ?
Yesterday as normal, he left his bike outside the shop and in the 90 seconds it took him to collect his bag, someone nicked his bike. There is nowhere to chain a bike too so all the paperboys just leave them leaning against the shop window. So my uncomplaining wee scone did his round on foot and arrived home ashen faced and very trembly wondering what had happened. He pondered a few scenarios and they were as followed
a - one of his mates had ridden it home for a joke
b - that he had lost it !
c - that it had been stolen
In a way I'm glad he has that naivety still, he kept asking me, how people could do that, he couldn't comprehend that people take things that belong to other people. He wondered what their parents would say when they came home with an extra bike. His last comment was that he didn't know how they could sleep at night.
The worst part of this for him was that it was his good mate Ollie's bike that had been stolen, my son's bike had had a puncture and his mate had very kindly lent him his bike, so my wee scone now has to tell his good mate that his bike's been stolen. My son couldn't eat his tea, he was meant to go to a party last night and just couldn't face it, we went round to his friends house to tell them but no one was in, so TBS just got more and more fretful and worked up about this.
When we did tell Ollie and his Mum, they couldn't have been kinder or more understanding, they were so reassuring to TBS that it wasn't his fault and that it wasn't a bike Ollie uses much, he'd outgrown it but still we felt badly and obviously Gordon and I have offered to pay any insurance excess or replace the bike for Ollie, as I say Ollie and his parents have been so understanding about this.
The horrible thing is that despite the CCTV in the shop they are unlikely to be caught and they will probably just mess about and wreck Ollies bike. What a waste. Why do they do this ? What makes them take things that don't belong to them ? People work hard to give their children nice things , what gives anyone the right to take what's not their's ? I grew up in a council estate in Glasgow, no one had pots of money and I'm sure I would have loved a new bike but I would never have taken someone elses because I knew it was stealing and I knew it was wrong. My kids know right from wrong, why don't others ? Do people think it's worth breaking the law because it's likely they'll just be told off and some Guardian reading probation officer will put it down to bad parenting and deprivation, bollocks to that, stealing is wrong and everyone knows that.
I phoned the police to report this and they were terribly nice, the lady I spoke to asked me if my son was hurt and I was slightly puzzled for a minute and then I realised that sometimes kids bikes are taken from them forcefully, and thankfully he wasn't and she also asked me if I had reported a crime to the police in the last 12 months and I truthfully said that I had never reported a crime in my whole life and she said " You're very fortunate in that and probably quite unusual"
And I very probably am, my children have grown up in this nice middle class bubble where a lot of the nastier stuff in life hasn't managed to penetrate. I wonder now if when they leave me to live in the less protected world where there are muggings and violence, will they be able for it ?
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Happy St Andrews Day
Murrayfield on 08.03.08.
This is my country,
The land that begat me,
These windy spaces
Are surely my own.
And those who toil here
In the sweat of their faces
Are flesh of my flesh
And bone of my bone.
Sir Alexander Gray
I would like to wish you a very Happy St Andrew's day. I love the fact that American's celebrate their 4th July and Irish people love their St Patrick's day. We should do more to celebrate our days and I beleive that in Scotland Nov 30th is now a discretionary bank Holiday.
This is my 8th St Andrews day not spent in Scotland. When I lived there I didn't think about my cultural identity much if at all, if on holiday I was asked what nationality I was I would say I was British, now I would always say I'm Scottish. Billy Connolly once said that the further away from Scotland people got the more Scottish they became and that is definitely true of me, I am trying so hard to keep my connection to my homeland. My children have lived more of their life in England than Scotland and I am pleased that they still sound Scottish, even Beautiful Baby Daughter who was only 3 and 1/2 when we moved here, but they are also proud of their Mother Country and very much see themselves as Scots.
I am so proud to be from my country and even if given a choice would always and forever choose to be a Scot. My tiny little country with only 5 million people in it has given so much to the world, not just pleasurable stuff like whisky and golf but really important life saving stuff like penicillin, anaesthetics and antisepsis. We also invented the telephone and the television, tarmac. the bicycle, we invented radar, the steam engine, sociology and even the adhesive postage stamp, I could go on but you'd think I was just showing off and that is the cardinal sin if you're Scottish, we hate people who blow their own trumpet, understating and self deprecating is our favourite kind of humour.On the subject of humour, I couldn't possibly leave out the man who makes me howl with laughter and who I have had on my CSL for the last 25 years could I ?
So today, if you are lucky enough to be in God's Own Country, take a look around and be grateful that you are in the place I love the most. My connection is primitive and instinctive, it's a deep and profound love and my beloved Scotland is my heart, mo chridhe. The chorus of Scotland the Brave is
Land of the purple heather
Land of the shining river
Land of my heart forever
Scotland the Brave
Alba an Aigh
Friday, 28 November 2008
What ever happened to Rock n Roll ?
Last night we had tickets to see Primal Scream. Gig buddy is working in London and had to drive all the way up to Nottingham.
I send a text enquiring when Primal Scream would be on and Gig Buddy reckoned around 9.30 pm, Glasvegas came on just after 9 and Gig Buddy had to wait till quarter to 10 to see the Kaisers so we now think this is do able as Gig Buddy has A Very Important Job and is A Very Important Person so has to set an example and not skive off early to go to gigs with me.
We arrange to meet just off the motorway and drive the last hour in one car, poor Gig Buddy, we go in my car, driving is not a major thing in my skill set, I'm fairly crap to be truthful. So after a fairly speedy drive, we arrive at 9.25pm, we park my car and as we reach Rock City we can hear good old Bobby belting out "Rocks" which is my very favourite Primal song, so I skip up the steps and into Rock City, we find a spot and proceed to jig aboot getting our rocks off just as Bobby ends the song and thanks us for being a great audience
WHAT THE F*CK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The look on Gig Buddy's face is PRICELESS, we have missed the gig, all the huge amount of effort, them coming from London, me getting my beloved and saintly colleague Anne to finish my parents evening for me so I can skive off early and we arrive just in time for the end.
Gig Buddy asks the guy next to us what time they came on and we're told 8.30 pm ! What kind of rock n roll band start at half eight and finish at half nine ? A feckin old one, that's who. Gig Buddy immediately starts their trade mark whistle and whoop, which is incredibly loud and Primal return and play for another 4 songs, all of which were fab.
So still absolutely incredulous but completely able to see the funny side of this, we go to the Lace Market and into a very nice pub where we drink and Gig Buddy does the maths that I am so fond of, the well, they would have played some new songs we didn't know, they would have played some stuff we didn't like and we liked all the songs they did play so we reckon that 4 and a half songs for £50 is quite good value for money really. We did agree it was sad we didn't hear "Jailbird" which is Gig Buddy's fave Primal song.
On the way back to the car, we duck down an alley and Gig Buddy makes us a smoke, just for a huge security light to come on, so we go to the car park and there at midnight we smoke, we laugh, we get slightly loaded and have a good time, I get home after 1, Gig Buddy gets back just before 3, now that's what I call Rock n Roll.
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
A very Happy Thanksgiving to all my lovely American friends and to any non American friends today.
Eating yourself asleep and being thankful for your life seems like my kinda holiday.
I am thankful as always for my loved ones and my life but today I am especially thankful as tonight...
We're gonna get loaded and have a good time and we're going to get our (middle aged) rocks off at a gig tonight.
Want to guess who we're going to see ?
Eating yourself asleep and being thankful for your life seems like my kinda holiday.
I am thankful as always for my loved ones and my life but today I am especially thankful as tonight...
We're gonna get loaded and have a good time and we're going to get our (middle aged) rocks off at a gig tonight.
Want to guess who we're going to see ?
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Duchess of Dichotomy
I am a complete creature of opposites and I always have been. At school I was a prefect despite being a punk, I have a huge bad girl/good girl fight going on inside me, I would always prefer to be rebellious but I would be scared to break the law.
I am very squeamish despite having been a nurse for 15 years, I can never watch operations or babies being born on TV yet have functioned effectively in those situations in real life. At work I was extremely patient and empathetic but at home I have no time or patience for illness, I am THE most unsympathetic Mummy ever.
I cannot watch violence of any kind yet I read (and enjoy muchly) the most gruesome and graphic crime novels but only if they are fictitious. I cannot and will never read a misery memoir.
I adore cleanliness and tidyness but I live in constant mess.
I love eating but cannot cook.
I an a lazy bag and suffer hugely from "can't be arsedness" but have a huge Calvinistic work ethic, if work is going easily I'm not proud of what I'm achieving, an "I've had a go" piece of work produced with the really difficult students who give you hardly anything means a lot to me, because we've really worked for it.
In my head I am an Indie rock and roll chick, going to gigs, loving being out late, enjoying an adult life and I would love to be something cool, like a writer or a designer but in reality I am a middle aged mummy of 3 who is a teacher, can you think of a more boringly normal job than that ? It's just not how I want the world to see me
I absolutely love mush, the more the better but only if it's real. I don't like and never listen to love songs, I hate romantic fiction and I avoid watching romantic comedies. I truly love to hear of friends romantic encounters, it doesn't have to be directed at me but if it is, auntiegwen's happiness monitor goes into overdrive. I will soak it up, nothing makes me happier, all the darlings, I miss you's and I love you's are Nirvana to me. A romantic gesture is definitely the key to my heart, do I ever make romantic gestures myself ? That would be a no !
I have 2 old mobile phones on which I have kept all the lovely messages I have been sent and I would never delete them, I also keep emails and yet the only real love letter I ever got, which was a marriage proposal I threw out, he proposed to me on a cheque, on the front it said pay Miss my real name , 1 million kisses and on the back it said " Will you marry me ? "
and I threw it out, a proper love letter, a feckin marriage proposal and I threw it away like it was rubbish, can you believe that ? Mush Queen threw it out.
I have a blog and people read about my life but I am incredibly private and can even be secretive. As a rule of thumb, when I am blogging the lighter and fluffier I try to make it, the harder my real life is. If I post a really raw and honest this is how things really are post, I am compelled to remove it, usually within a few hours. I cannot, even in this really positive environment, seem to say, my life is shit, send me some support, yet I hope when others are struggling I will try and say something helpful to them.
In my relationships I am so open and honest, I have been described as brutally candid, yet in the very few significant relationships I have had, I have picked and loved men who keep their feelings to themselves, to say they play their cards close to their chest would be the understatement of the Millenium. The man I married would rather have cut his left bollock off than talk to me. The men I have been really involved with have had huge trust issues but I have never been unfaithful, they have been but I haven't.
So there you have it, I can be as wild as the heather but with a gentle and true heart, a receiver of romance but a giver of support, brutally candid myself but choose introspection in others, in the polite version a creature of extremes. In the more realistic version, weird.
I am very squeamish despite having been a nurse for 15 years, I can never watch operations or babies being born on TV yet have functioned effectively in those situations in real life. At work I was extremely patient and empathetic but at home I have no time or patience for illness, I am THE most unsympathetic Mummy ever.
I cannot watch violence of any kind yet I read (and enjoy muchly) the most gruesome and graphic crime novels but only if they are fictitious. I cannot and will never read a misery memoir.
I adore cleanliness and tidyness but I live in constant mess.
I love eating but cannot cook.
I an a lazy bag and suffer hugely from "can't be arsedness" but have a huge Calvinistic work ethic, if work is going easily I'm not proud of what I'm achieving, an "I've had a go" piece of work produced with the really difficult students who give you hardly anything means a lot to me, because we've really worked for it.
In my head I am an Indie rock and roll chick, going to gigs, loving being out late, enjoying an adult life and I would love to be something cool, like a writer or a designer but in reality I am a middle aged mummy of 3 who is a teacher, can you think of a more boringly normal job than that ? It's just not how I want the world to see me
I absolutely love mush, the more the better but only if it's real. I don't like and never listen to love songs, I hate romantic fiction and I avoid watching romantic comedies. I truly love to hear of friends romantic encounters, it doesn't have to be directed at me but if it is, auntiegwen's happiness monitor goes into overdrive. I will soak it up, nothing makes me happier, all the darlings, I miss you's and I love you's are Nirvana to me. A romantic gesture is definitely the key to my heart, do I ever make romantic gestures myself ? That would be a no !
I have 2 old mobile phones on which I have kept all the lovely messages I have been sent and I would never delete them, I also keep emails and yet the only real love letter I ever got, which was a marriage proposal I threw out, he proposed to me on a cheque, on the front it said pay Miss my real name , 1 million kisses and on the back it said " Will you marry me ? "
and I threw it out, a proper love letter, a feckin marriage proposal and I threw it away like it was rubbish, can you believe that ? Mush Queen threw it out.
I have a blog and people read about my life but I am incredibly private and can even be secretive. As a rule of thumb, when I am blogging the lighter and fluffier I try to make it, the harder my real life is. If I post a really raw and honest this is how things really are post, I am compelled to remove it, usually within a few hours. I cannot, even in this really positive environment, seem to say, my life is shit, send me some support, yet I hope when others are struggling I will try and say something helpful to them.
In my relationships I am so open and honest, I have been described as brutally candid, yet in the very few significant relationships I have had, I have picked and loved men who keep their feelings to themselves, to say they play their cards close to their chest would be the understatement of the Millenium. The man I married would rather have cut his left bollock off than talk to me. The men I have been really involved with have had huge trust issues but I have never been unfaithful, they have been but I haven't.
So there you have it, I can be as wild as the heather but with a gentle and true heart, a receiver of romance but a giver of support, brutally candid myself but choose introspection in others, in the polite version a creature of extremes. In the more realistic version, weird.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
What goes on in their heads ?
Beautiful Baby Daughter
Can I have a hamster ?
no
Can I have a dog ?
no
Can I have a rabbit ?
no
You ARE a remarkably mean Mummy
Beautiful Eldest Daughter
Would my life have been different if I was Chinese ?
yes
Would you still love me if I was a mouse ?
no
Can I have 2 wee fencer men to fight a dual over me ?
probably not
The Beautiful Son
It might be ok if you get married again
you've changed your tune
Well, if it was a cool person
what would make him cool ?
If he rode a motor bike
okay
And he gave me money
how much money ?
£1.50 a day
So, gentlemen what are you waiting for ? For the grand total of £1.50 a day and obviously the outlay on the bike, a lifetime of married bliss with auntiegwen and her deranged weans await you !
I bet you can't wait ...
Can I have a hamster ?
no
Can I have a dog ?
no
Can I have a rabbit ?
no
You ARE a remarkably mean Mummy
Beautiful Eldest Daughter
Would my life have been different if I was Chinese ?
yes
Would you still love me if I was a mouse ?
no
Can I have 2 wee fencer men to fight a dual over me ?
probably not
The Beautiful Son
It might be ok if you get married again
you've changed your tune
Well, if it was a cool person
what would make him cool ?
If he rode a motor bike
okay
And he gave me money
how much money ?
£1.50 a day
So, gentlemen what are you waiting for ? For the grand total of £1.50 a day and obviously the outlay on the bike, a lifetime of married bliss with auntiegwen and her deranged weans await you !
I bet you can't wait ...
Friday, 21 November 2008
My new addiction
As I am an extremely nosey person, seriously my need to know things is ferocious, I am greatly surprised it took me so long to investigate this. Probably my lack of techfeckinology played a part.
When I blog stuff, in my head I think I am read only by the people who comment, except for a couple of people, who always text or email me about what I've written and maybe another few who stumble in via the black box, is anybody else still doing that ? nope, just me ? it brought me back to myself the other day, it also very very often sends me to a deeply devoted Christian wife of a pastor in America, who has a campaign about fighting for marriage, if she gets brought to me, I'm sure she will despair of my post marriage excitement, poor girl will have to have a lie down.
Any hoo, I digress, I've got a wee thingy that tells you who's been visiting, no not by name, although I'd love that, just how many people, where they're from and it can tell you if they used a search engine, what phrase they looked for that brought them to you.
So, in 3 weeks my main page has been read 1484 times, seriously, 1484, most of you are British, followed by American but I have been visited from people all over the world, some even come back ! How gas is that ?
77.20% United Kingdom
14.00% United States
2.00% Saudi Arabia
1.60% Australia
1.20% France
1.20% Canada
0.60% Germany
0.60% Ireland
0.40% New Zealand
0.40% Argentina
0.20% China
0.20% Denmark
0.20% Spain
0.20% Cyprus
I love the search engine phrases
Search Term
24.44% auntie gwen blogspot
17.78% auntiegwensdiary
6.67% tell offs
4.44% i'm sorry i was late well i missed the train
4.44% cool clothes for 50 something women
4.44% mansecat
2.22% cuss words comebacks
2.22% auntie gwen
2.22% auntiegwen blog glasgow
2.22% tell offs
2.22% crocsareugly
2.22% curse word come backs
2.22% milf teachers
2.22% comebacks with swearing
2.22% comebacks to tell someone off
2.22% irish swear words
2.22% she drunken called me 2am dating
2.22% AAWH
2.22% curse word comebacks
2.22% it god auntiegwen
2.22% good comebacks with bad words
2.22% 7 things before i die tag
2.22% good friend tell offs comebacks
100.00%
The thing I found the most interesting is that most people who pop in are actually looking for their auntie, thank you, your auntie's always pleased to see you.
The first week was all people looking for me, milfs and I believe "actual shagging", curse words and Scottish sweary words.
Week 2 again was me, milfs, cursewords and a "drunken salmon Gwen" the mind boggles.
This week, there were a few I didn't begin to understand, for example why some poor reader was firstly searching for
"I'm sorry I was late, well I missed the train" and secondly why that brought them here, I don't think that's a phrase I've even said let alone typed !
" Cool clothes for 50 something women" well, excuse me, I'm only fortyfeckintwo! Would you give yourself peace !
"mansecat" nope, not a baldy (Glaswegian for a clue)
"drunken 2 am calling, dating" I have been known for the late night drunken flirty texting and I have on 1 and 1 occasion only called at 2.30 am to let someone know how very drunk I was, he described it as cute and melancholy
But Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph, I seem to be the Miss Potty Mouth of the internet, if you are looking for curses, tell offs and come backs as apparently 26.65% ( I added it up, and checked it, I know I'm a sad article) of you visitors who searched the internet and found me are, I apparently am Queen of the smart arse retort.
Is Google's perception of me as a 50 something, late night calling, potty mouthed wisecracker true ?
My mother would be so proud !
When I blog stuff, in my head I think I am read only by the people who comment, except for a couple of people, who always text or email me about what I've written and maybe another few who stumble in via the black box, is anybody else still doing that ? nope, just me ? it brought me back to myself the other day, it also very very often sends me to a deeply devoted Christian wife of a pastor in America, who has a campaign about fighting for marriage, if she gets brought to me, I'm sure she will despair of my post marriage excitement, poor girl will have to have a lie down.
Any hoo, I digress, I've got a wee thingy that tells you who's been visiting, no not by name, although I'd love that, just how many people, where they're from and it can tell you if they used a search engine, what phrase they looked for that brought them to you.
So, in 3 weeks my main page has been read 1484 times, seriously, 1484, most of you are British, followed by American but I have been visited from people all over the world, some even come back ! How gas is that ?
77.20% United Kingdom
14.00% United States
2.00% Saudi Arabia
1.60% Australia
1.20% France
1.20% Canada
0.60% Germany
0.60% Ireland
0.40% New Zealand
0.40% Argentina
0.20% China
0.20% Denmark
0.20% Spain
0.20% Cyprus
I love the search engine phrases
Search Term
24.44% auntie gwen blogspot
17.78% auntiegwensdiary
6.67% tell offs
4.44% i'm sorry i was late well i missed the train
4.44% cool clothes for 50 something women
4.44% mansecat
2.22% cuss words comebacks
2.22% auntie gwen
2.22% auntiegwen blog glasgow
2.22% tell offs
2.22% crocsareugly
2.22% curse word come backs
2.22% milf teachers
2.22% comebacks with swearing
2.22% comebacks to tell someone off
2.22% irish swear words
2.22% she drunken called me 2am dating
2.22% AAWH
2.22% curse word comebacks
2.22% it god auntiegwen
2.22% good comebacks with bad words
2.22% 7 things before i die tag
2.22% good friend tell offs comebacks
100.00%
The thing I found the most interesting is that most people who pop in are actually looking for their auntie, thank you, your auntie's always pleased to see you.
The first week was all people looking for me, milfs and I believe "actual shagging", curse words and Scottish sweary words.
Week 2 again was me, milfs, cursewords and a "drunken salmon Gwen" the mind boggles.
This week, there were a few I didn't begin to understand, for example why some poor reader was firstly searching for
"I'm sorry I was late, well I missed the train" and secondly why that brought them here, I don't think that's a phrase I've even said let alone typed !
" Cool clothes for 50 something women" well, excuse me, I'm only fortyfeckintwo! Would you give yourself peace !
"mansecat" nope, not a baldy (Glaswegian for a clue)
"drunken 2 am calling, dating" I have been known for the late night drunken flirty texting and I have on 1 and 1 occasion only called at 2.30 am to let someone know how very drunk I was, he described it as cute and melancholy
But Jesus, Mary and Holy St Joseph, I seem to be the Miss Potty Mouth of the internet, if you are looking for curses, tell offs and come backs as apparently 26.65% ( I added it up, and checked it, I know I'm a sad article) of you visitors who searched the internet and found me are, I apparently am Queen of the smart arse retort.
Is Google's perception of me as a 50 something, late night calling, potty mouthed wisecracker true ?
My mother would be so proud !
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
All attempts to make that child normal have failed utterly
A quote, if you please from The Beautiful Son's form teacher.
TBS exasperates a fair few of his teachers, he is one of those kids who is tremendously difficult to motivate, he cannot be enticed to study for tests, he views them as a reflection of what he knows on the day, he has this weird notion that revising is somehow cheating. Not helpful as he is in year 9 and will have his SATS to do. None of the if you work a wee bit harder you'll go up a grade, he cares not a jot what grade he gets, he will ask quite seriously what difference it will make if he gets a grade 7 rather than a 6, now Beautiful Baby Daughter will work her wee socks of to be top of the class, that would make her wee cup of happiness overflow but himself wouldn't give a curdie if he was first or last. Eldest Beautiful Daughter isn't as motivated as BBD but will work hard enough to get what she wants.
At school yesterday he got into trouble in an ICT lesson, he had to make a wee animated person dance and have spot lights flashing on them in time to music. Himself took it a wee step further and animated Osama Bin Laden and had him disco dancing accompanied by lights a flashing. This pleased his teacher not and he had to change it, sense of humour failure perhaps ?
Last night at home he had a tea towel tied round his neck and either pulled it up round his face pretending to be a terrorist or had it pulled over his head like a scarf pretending to be Mother Teresa, complete with accents. I used to be a terrorist but I saw the light.
He has a whole repertoire of funny walks and funny accents and he has me in stitches most of the time but he has an empathy that many adults would do well to emulate.
So Miss Hall, I don't give a flying feck that you can't get the measure of my son and you just see the class clown, I don't want him to be like everybody else, I love him just the way he is and I hope he NEVER conforms.
So for Christmas I am going to get him a T shirt printed on the front with
"All attempts to make this child normal have failed utterly"
and on the back
a dancing Osama Bin Laden.
And on every non uniform day, he's going to wear it to school.
I don't know where he gets his subversiveness from, do you ?
TBS exasperates a fair few of his teachers, he is one of those kids who is tremendously difficult to motivate, he cannot be enticed to study for tests, he views them as a reflection of what he knows on the day, he has this weird notion that revising is somehow cheating. Not helpful as he is in year 9 and will have his SATS to do. None of the if you work a wee bit harder you'll go up a grade, he cares not a jot what grade he gets, he will ask quite seriously what difference it will make if he gets a grade 7 rather than a 6, now Beautiful Baby Daughter will work her wee socks of to be top of the class, that would make her wee cup of happiness overflow but himself wouldn't give a curdie if he was first or last. Eldest Beautiful Daughter isn't as motivated as BBD but will work hard enough to get what she wants.
At school yesterday he got into trouble in an ICT lesson, he had to make a wee animated person dance and have spot lights flashing on them in time to music. Himself took it a wee step further and animated Osama Bin Laden and had him disco dancing accompanied by lights a flashing. This pleased his teacher not and he had to change it, sense of humour failure perhaps ?
Last night at home he had a tea towel tied round his neck and either pulled it up round his face pretending to be a terrorist or had it pulled over his head like a scarf pretending to be Mother Teresa, complete with accents. I used to be a terrorist but I saw the light.
He has a whole repertoire of funny walks and funny accents and he has me in stitches most of the time but he has an empathy that many adults would do well to emulate.
So Miss Hall, I don't give a flying feck that you can't get the measure of my son and you just see the class clown, I don't want him to be like everybody else, I love him just the way he is and I hope he NEVER conforms.
So for Christmas I am going to get him a T shirt printed on the front with
"All attempts to make this child normal have failed utterly"
and on the back
a dancing Osama Bin Laden.
And on every non uniform day, he's going to wear it to school.
I don't know where he gets his subversiveness from, do you ?
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Horoscope Shmoroscope part 2
Ok so on Wednesday I told you about my foretold "intense romantic encounter" and if you read the comments of that post, it will tell you of the most romantic thing that happened to me that day.
I am a wee bitty sad in that I do actually read my horoscope every day, I like Russell Grant's one as he's on my Tiscali homepage, so I read Leo every day for me, I read Virgo, and EBD is Pisces and I have to add Cancer for Note Bene. I really do want to believe in this, I would love to have my fortune told or my tarot cards read again.
When I was 16 I had my Tarot read and the woman told me she could see me marrying a tall dark haired man and she saw him surrounded by money. The man I married worked for a bank, so he was surrounded by it, it just wasn't his. She told me I'd own a house abroad ( we do, a villa in Turkey) and she told me I would mourn a baby I didn't have ( I do and will always to my dying day, that baby would have been 15 this month) and that I would marry twice (maybe not beyond the realms of possibilty???). This kinda set the belief in me, also that my mother and sister really really believe, it makes my Dad snort with laughter.
So, back to my wee sad obsession, and the great want to believe. This month it said on the 13th I would be offered a lucrative work assignment and I was, so nah nah nah nah nah to the unbelievers.
But today's gem....
All's fair in love and war, at least as far as you're concerned. Competing for someone's affection proves an exciting challenge. Fortunately, you have enough charm and sex appeal to prevail. Be sure to dress to impress. If you already have a lover, take this opportunity to spice up your sex life. Acting out your fantasies will prove exhilarating. Role playing is also fun. Don't assume your amour won't be up for it. You will never know unless you ask.
Okay, I had only planned on doing the usual lesson planning, marking, visit to Gap and then a bit of ironing but as I'm so absolutely smokin hot, the good knickers will be back on (fortunately I have a ferocious selection of lingerie) and maybe it's even time for the sexy black stiletto boots, hell, let's bring the big guns out and I'll ask ...
Are you excited or afraid ?
I am a wee bitty sad in that I do actually read my horoscope every day, I like Russell Grant's one as he's on my Tiscali homepage, so I read Leo every day for me, I read Virgo, and EBD is Pisces and I have to add Cancer for Note Bene. I really do want to believe in this, I would love to have my fortune told or my tarot cards read again.
When I was 16 I had my Tarot read and the woman told me she could see me marrying a tall dark haired man and she saw him surrounded by money. The man I married worked for a bank, so he was surrounded by it, it just wasn't his. She told me I'd own a house abroad ( we do, a villa in Turkey) and she told me I would mourn a baby I didn't have ( I do and will always to my dying day, that baby would have been 15 this month) and that I would marry twice (maybe not beyond the realms of possibilty???). This kinda set the belief in me, also that my mother and sister really really believe, it makes my Dad snort with laughter.
So, back to my wee sad obsession, and the great want to believe. This month it said on the 13th I would be offered a lucrative work assignment and I was, so nah nah nah nah nah to the unbelievers.
But today's gem....
All's fair in love and war, at least as far as you're concerned. Competing for someone's affection proves an exciting challenge. Fortunately, you have enough charm and sex appeal to prevail. Be sure to dress to impress. If you already have a lover, take this opportunity to spice up your sex life. Acting out your fantasies will prove exhilarating. Role playing is also fun. Don't assume your amour won't be up for it. You will never know unless you ask.
Okay, I had only planned on doing the usual lesson planning, marking, visit to Gap and then a bit of ironing but as I'm so absolutely smokin hot, the good knickers will be back on (fortunately I have a ferocious selection of lingerie) and maybe it's even time for the sexy black stiletto boots, hell, let's bring the big guns out and I'll ask ...
Are you excited or afraid ?
Friday, 14 November 2008
Normal Service has resumed
Apologies to the poor readers who popped in this morning to find a woe is me type post.
I have now read 3 chapters of my new Maeve Binchy " Heart and Soul" had a bowl of lowfat custard and a very full fat Marks and Spencer sticky toffee pudding and I'm feeling much more like myself.
Maybe I should patent this as a cure for the glums ?
So the auld rip has gone and normal middleaged Pollayanna service has resumed !
I have now read 3 chapters of my new Maeve Binchy " Heart and Soul" had a bowl of lowfat custard and a very full fat Marks and Spencer sticky toffee pudding and I'm feeling much more like myself.
Maybe I should patent this as a cure for the glums ?
So the auld rip has gone and normal middleaged Pollayanna service has resumed !
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Horoscope shmoroscope
My horoscope for today says
Winning someone's heart is as easy as crooking your finger at someone sexy. They'll be willing to move heaven and earth on your behalf. If you are in a relationship, this would be a wonderful time to plan a romantic holiday with your amour. Getting engaged or married is another possibility.
My horoscope for the week says says "An intense romantic encounter makes you feel like you're walking on air on the 12th.
Whoop whoop, that's the auntiegwen happy noise, I could do with a bit of excitement to cheer up a very dull Wednesday. Bring it on.
I wonder if this very what splendid event will take place
a during the day when I am supposed to be cleaning the house
b whilst I am taking The Beautiful Son to rugby practice
or
c when I put the bins out before I go to bed
I'm going to be all of a jitter the whole damn day now, constantly alert for this promised mush fest.
Well if there's that much excitement coming my way, maybe I'd better rethink my current attire of
1 Marks and Spencer blue nightie emblazoned with the slogan " I'm usually gorgeous but it's my day off"
1 Black Vans hoodie ( The Beautiful Sons, I was feeling a bit chilly )
1 pair of trackie bottoms (what, it's cold)
1 pair of daughters Ugg boots ( would you give yourself peace, I'm only cleaning the house today )
Okay, fair play if I'm going to have an "intense romantic encounter" I'll go shower and change, I'll even put my good knickers on ( just in case, you never know ! )
Winning someone's heart is as easy as crooking your finger at someone sexy. They'll be willing to move heaven and earth on your behalf. If you are in a relationship, this would be a wonderful time to plan a romantic holiday with your amour. Getting engaged or married is another possibility.
My horoscope for the week says says "An intense romantic encounter makes you feel like you're walking on air on the 12th.
Whoop whoop, that's the auntiegwen happy noise, I could do with a bit of excitement to cheer up a very dull Wednesday. Bring it on.
I wonder if this very what splendid event will take place
a during the day when I am supposed to be cleaning the house
b whilst I am taking The Beautiful Son to rugby practice
or
c when I put the bins out before I go to bed
I'm going to be all of a jitter the whole damn day now, constantly alert for this promised mush fest.
Well if there's that much excitement coming my way, maybe I'd better rethink my current attire of
1 Marks and Spencer blue nightie emblazoned with the slogan " I'm usually gorgeous but it's my day off"
1 Black Vans hoodie ( The Beautiful Sons, I was feeling a bit chilly )
1 pair of trackie bottoms (what, it's cold)
1 pair of daughters Ugg boots ( would you give yourself peace, I'm only cleaning the house today )
Okay, fair play if I'm going to have an "intense romantic encounter" I'll go shower and change, I'll even put my good knickers on ( just in case, you never know ! )
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Drunkety, drunk, drunk...again, a tale in 2 parts
Part 1
A few months ago in a town just like yours there was a girly night out. An assortment of 30 and 40 something women were celebrating our good friend's birthday. In a bar, my friend was chatting up this bloke who was quite drunk but fair play to her, she liked him and she wasn't being deterred. I'm very sober and I was kind of on the periphery of this conversation and when she went to the bar he turned to me and gazed straight into my eyes (yes, he indeedily did, gazed is the very word for it) and said in tones that were quite reverential...
"You're beautiful" and then again "You are really beautiful" To emphasise his point he made his friend tell me that when I walked in he told the friend "That girl is beautiful" So the poor sober friend had to back up this story and when my friend came back from the bar and he turned to her and said " Your friend is beautiful" which didn't please her mightily if truth be told.
Now your auntie has had few romantic encounters in her life (oh, don't feel sorry for me, the ones I've had have been top notch, quality over quantity and all that) but the men I have had romantic encounters with have not been the most forthcoming with the compliments or the mush. Which is a shame as I respond very favourably to mush.
So here I am in a bar and a tall dark handsome stranger is telling me I'm beautiful and he then goes on with the compliments likening me to Andrea Corr. My friend at this point is getting Mr "You're beautiful" 's number put into her phone (she can't see without her glasses) by the sober friend who's thinking this is great craic to give the number to the wrong girl. We're still on the " You're beautiful" but this has been joined by " You're nothing like my type, I usually go for big blondes but you are simply ..." and the big crowd of women chime in "beautiful, yes, we know, she's beautiful"
What thinketh your auntie at this point ? Well, it's very flattering really but I kind of got the vibe he was a player, what kind of man goes around telling middle aged women they're beautiful ? One that wants emptied, methinks and I'm quite happy with what I've got thanks and I am so not going to get into an argy bargy with a friend over a bloke. So I persuade friend to go home but in the cab on the way home she calls him and sets up a date.
Intermission
The man and my friend have 4 dates, that's the polite way of saying it. So all of the evening I get the "You're beautiful " and she gets the man.
Part 2
Last night in another bar in another part of town I am getting served, I'm 1 glass of the pink fizzy and I glass of the red down so it's fair to say your auntie was feeling quite squiffy. I turn around and a tall dark handsome man says " It's you isn't it ? " I agree as I wasn't that squiffy and I knew that I was indeed, myself. The man turns to his friends and says "It's the beautiful girl, you know the one, the beautiful girl, she's here" all the friends look and agree that I am the beautiful girl he's been telling them about.
So we pretty much have the same conversation as before except this time he's sober and I'm squiffy, incidentally I happen to be with the same friend. He's not been returning her texts and she's a bit peeved.
She then comes to the bar to look for me and sees him, not a pretty moment. I escape to the loo and then go scrounge a sneaky smoke, I get dizzy and have to sit down, no I'm not sick, just dizzy, honestly you shag one sheep ! Then Mr " You're beautiful " comes to find me followed by my friend who takes me out sharpish to another bar.
Mr "You're beautiful" rings my friend to find out where we've gone and she won't tell him. We go dancing and I was on ferocious form, feeling much more like Missus Party Pants, I have a blast and have to be encouraged home at close of play at 2 am, yes, you did read right, 2 am, me that likes to go to bed the same day she got up ! I had a lovely crowd of wee boys who were highly entertained by my "But I'm 42, I'm old enough to be your mammy" this was discouraging them not at all, your auntie's ego was well and truly stroked but rest assured dear readers, that was the only thing that was.
In the cab on the way home, my friend calls Mr "You're beautiful" and I get dropped off home first, yet again I get the " You're beautiful" and she gets the man.
This morning I found that he'd sneaked his phone number into my jacket pocket.
A few months ago in a town just like yours there was a girly night out. An assortment of 30 and 40 something women were celebrating our good friend's birthday. In a bar, my friend was chatting up this bloke who was quite drunk but fair play to her, she liked him and she wasn't being deterred. I'm very sober and I was kind of on the periphery of this conversation and when she went to the bar he turned to me and gazed straight into my eyes (yes, he indeedily did, gazed is the very word for it) and said in tones that were quite reverential...
"You're beautiful" and then again "You are really beautiful" To emphasise his point he made his friend tell me that when I walked in he told the friend "That girl is beautiful" So the poor sober friend had to back up this story and when my friend came back from the bar and he turned to her and said " Your friend is beautiful" which didn't please her mightily if truth be told.
Now your auntie has had few romantic encounters in her life (oh, don't feel sorry for me, the ones I've had have been top notch, quality over quantity and all that) but the men I have had romantic encounters with have not been the most forthcoming with the compliments or the mush. Which is a shame as I respond very favourably to mush.
So here I am in a bar and a tall dark handsome stranger is telling me I'm beautiful and he then goes on with the compliments likening me to Andrea Corr. My friend at this point is getting Mr "You're beautiful" 's number put into her phone (she can't see without her glasses) by the sober friend who's thinking this is great craic to give the number to the wrong girl. We're still on the " You're beautiful" but this has been joined by " You're nothing like my type, I usually go for big blondes but you are simply ..." and the big crowd of women chime in "beautiful, yes, we know, she's beautiful"
What thinketh your auntie at this point ? Well, it's very flattering really but I kind of got the vibe he was a player, what kind of man goes around telling middle aged women they're beautiful ? One that wants emptied, methinks and I'm quite happy with what I've got thanks and I am so not going to get into an argy bargy with a friend over a bloke. So I persuade friend to go home but in the cab on the way home she calls him and sets up a date.
Intermission
The man and my friend have 4 dates, that's the polite way of saying it. So all of the evening I get the "You're beautiful " and she gets the man.
Part 2
Last night in another bar in another part of town I am getting served, I'm 1 glass of the pink fizzy and I glass of the red down so it's fair to say your auntie was feeling quite squiffy. I turn around and a tall dark handsome man says " It's you isn't it ? " I agree as I wasn't that squiffy and I knew that I was indeed, myself. The man turns to his friends and says "It's the beautiful girl, you know the one, the beautiful girl, she's here" all the friends look and agree that I am the beautiful girl he's been telling them about.
So we pretty much have the same conversation as before except this time he's sober and I'm squiffy, incidentally I happen to be with the same friend. He's not been returning her texts and she's a bit peeved.
She then comes to the bar to look for me and sees him, not a pretty moment. I escape to the loo and then go scrounge a sneaky smoke, I get dizzy and have to sit down, no I'm not sick, just dizzy, honestly you shag one sheep ! Then Mr " You're beautiful " comes to find me followed by my friend who takes me out sharpish to another bar.
Mr "You're beautiful" rings my friend to find out where we've gone and she won't tell him. We go dancing and I was on ferocious form, feeling much more like Missus Party Pants, I have a blast and have to be encouraged home at close of play at 2 am, yes, you did read right, 2 am, me that likes to go to bed the same day she got up ! I had a lovely crowd of wee boys who were highly entertained by my "But I'm 42, I'm old enough to be your mammy" this was discouraging them not at all, your auntie's ego was well and truly stroked but rest assured dear readers, that was the only thing that was.
In the cab on the way home, my friend calls Mr "You're beautiful" and I get dropped off home first, yet again I get the " You're beautiful" and she gets the man.
This morning I found that he'd sneaked his phone number into my jacket pocket.
Thursday, 6 November 2008
At school today...
Open evening for prospective A level students and parents 6 till 8 pm.
Classroom all set up looking very what splendid.
Enticing parents and students to come visit our classroom with offer of free food.
Table of healthy dips and carrot sticks and 2 platters of grapes and strawberries.
5 teachers and a graduate trainee being very earnest, sensible, polite and charming as is our want
End of evening, packing up and leaving, Mr W gets to take all the leftover carrot sticks home and he very innocently says
"I'll need to buy a rabbit"
Your auntie says "Don't think it'll be much use to you"
Before collapsing on the floor, tears blinding me
Nothing like laughing at your own jokes, I'm still laughing now.
Sad article that I am.
Yes, I know I'm supposed to be setting a good example.
Classroom all set up looking very what splendid.
Enticing parents and students to come visit our classroom with offer of free food.
Table of healthy dips and carrot sticks and 2 platters of grapes and strawberries.
5 teachers and a graduate trainee being very earnest, sensible, polite and charming as is our want
End of evening, packing up and leaving, Mr W gets to take all the leftover carrot sticks home and he very innocently says
"I'll need to buy a rabbit"
Your auntie says "Don't think it'll be much use to you"
Before collapsing on the floor, tears blinding me
Nothing like laughing at your own jokes, I'm still laughing now.
Sad article that I am.
Yes, I know I'm supposed to be setting a good example.
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Tag, I'm it
I have been awarded and tagged (no, not electronically !) by the very lovely Mean Mom who's not mean in the slightest.
So the most indecisive woman in the world (that would be me) has to figure out
7 Things I plan to do before I die
Jeez, do we have to start with the hard ones ?, I can't even choose soup
Travel properly, there is still so much of the world I want to see
Get a psychology degree
Run a marathon
Work with orphans in Africa
Be able to be really and truly happy again
Live by myself sans children, yes I do love them but I'd like the house to be tidy occasionally and I'd enjoy the peace and tranquility.
Get married again , yes I do know I have to get divorced first and in the last one I said I wanted to live on my own, this is after I've lived on my own and got a bit lonely
7 Things I should do now
Cook my children's tea
I have a pile of marking waiting , I always have that
Lesson planning, ditto
I should clean my kitchen floor, it's bad, I should clean the whole feckin house, my father would be ashamed ( he does all the cleaning, what can I say, I take after my mother)
I need to buy cereal for tomorrow's breakfast, I forgot to when I went to Sainsbury's yesterday
I should phone the Royal Mail as they tried to deliver a signed for letter when I was at work
Unpack my bag from the weekend, shameful aren't I ?
7 Things I can't do
Eldest Beautiful Daughter rattled off a stream of these when I asked her what I couldn't do, I couldn't type this quick enough !
Make decisions
Tell my children off or punish them, I am soooooooooooo crap at that
Powerpoint presentations
Cook
Park successfully
Read maps/follow directions/get where I should be going on a first attempt
Remember things
7 Things that attract me to the opposite sex
I actually did a fantasy new man list last year when I was full of enthusiasm for a man, he wasn't quite like my list and there were somethings on there I've changed my mind about, I do like alpha males again and now am a bit fed up with men in touch with their feminine side, so who knows what I'll like next year, to read the old list click here Get me with the hyperlinking , I'm a big fat show off, aren't I ?
Intelligence
Humour
Honesty
Alpha males ( I like them to be in charge)
Confidence
Athleticism - I think stamina is an under rated quality in a man
Sexiness - I like a twinkle in their eye
7 Things I say most often
Yep, I'll do that for you
Would you give yourself peace !
Feck off
Yes you do have to go to your dads to stay, yes I'm aware you don't like his girlfriend, yes I understand you feel that I'm a mean Mummy
Education gives you choices
I still get paid even if you all fail your A levels, I keep on at you because I want you to be the best you can be
They were all wee babies once and then life happened to them ( that raises many groans in our office and now they all join in in strangled tones !)
7 Favourite foods
Strawberries
Rum and raisin ice cream
Pizza
Goat's cheese and roasted peppers panini's
Penne arribiata
Cranachan
Chips especially from a Glasgow chippie
Well, I'm done now, hope that wasn't too boring for you. I'm supposed to tag 7 other bloggers, so would any of you care to join in ?
I know Neil won't but any of the others ?
What about the newer bloggers ?
No ?, oh go on, I know you want to really
You can blame it on me, say that ultrabossy/nosy auntiegwen made you do it.
I'd like to know more about you.
So the most indecisive woman in the world (that would be me) has to figure out
7 Things I plan to do before I die
Jeez, do we have to start with the hard ones ?, I can't even choose soup
Travel properly, there is still so much of the world I want to see
Get a psychology degree
Run a marathon
Work with orphans in Africa
Be able to be really and truly happy again
Live by myself sans children, yes I do love them but I'd like the house to be tidy occasionally and I'd enjoy the peace and tranquility.
Get married again , yes I do know I have to get divorced first and in the last one I said I wanted to live on my own, this is after I've lived on my own and got a bit lonely
7 Things I should do now
Cook my children's tea
I have a pile of marking waiting , I always have that
Lesson planning, ditto
I should clean my kitchen floor, it's bad, I should clean the whole feckin house, my father would be ashamed ( he does all the cleaning, what can I say, I take after my mother)
I need to buy cereal for tomorrow's breakfast, I forgot to when I went to Sainsbury's yesterday
I should phone the Royal Mail as they tried to deliver a signed for letter when I was at work
Unpack my bag from the weekend, shameful aren't I ?
7 Things I can't do
Eldest Beautiful Daughter rattled off a stream of these when I asked her what I couldn't do, I couldn't type this quick enough !
Make decisions
Tell my children off or punish them, I am soooooooooooo crap at that
Powerpoint presentations
Cook
Park successfully
Read maps/follow directions/get where I should be going on a first attempt
Remember things
7 Things that attract me to the opposite sex
I actually did a fantasy new man list last year when I was full of enthusiasm for a man, he wasn't quite like my list and there were somethings on there I've changed my mind about, I do like alpha males again and now am a bit fed up with men in touch with their feminine side, so who knows what I'll like next year, to read the old list click here Get me with the hyperlinking , I'm a big fat show off, aren't I ?
Intelligence
Humour
Honesty
Alpha males ( I like them to be in charge)
Confidence
Athleticism - I think stamina is an under rated quality in a man
Sexiness - I like a twinkle in their eye
7 Things I say most often
Yep, I'll do that for you
Would you give yourself peace !
Feck off
Yes you do have to go to your dads to stay, yes I'm aware you don't like his girlfriend, yes I understand you feel that I'm a mean Mummy
Education gives you choices
I still get paid even if you all fail your A levels, I keep on at you because I want you to be the best you can be
They were all wee babies once and then life happened to them ( that raises many groans in our office and now they all join in in strangled tones !)
7 Favourite foods
Strawberries
Rum and raisin ice cream
Pizza
Goat's cheese and roasted peppers panini's
Penne arribiata
Cranachan
Chips especially from a Glasgow chippie
Well, I'm done now, hope that wasn't too boring for you. I'm supposed to tag 7 other bloggers, so would any of you care to join in ?
I know Neil won't but any of the others ?
What about the newer bloggers ?
No ?, oh go on, I know you want to really
You can blame it on me, say that ultrabossy/nosy auntiegwen made you do it.
I'd like to know more about you.
Sunday, 2 November 2008
10 Things I learned this weekend
There is a new sign on the border, it's blue and has what is I suppose someone's modern interpretation of the Saltire on it and is says "Welcome to Scotland" and underneath "Failte gu Alba" I preferred our original "Ceud Mille Failte" pronounced coo milla falcha, which is Gaelic for A hundred thousand welcomes. I know I'm turning into a Grumpy Old Woman, I'll be standing in for Jenny Eclair on the next tour.
The M74 and M6 have a staggering amount of roadworks especially southbound, it took me 2 hours longer to drive back to England today than it did to get home on Friday. Yes, I am aware that I'm sounding like a Daily Mail reader, I'm working on it !
I get very irritable in traffic, I wasn't even appeased by the hot guy who smiled, winked and flirted with me for 25 minutes along the M6, I would rather have just not had the delay, what did he think could happen ? That I'd pull over and Gillian him on the hard shoulder ?
Scotland had the best of the weekend weather, it was beautifully Autumnal there, crisp but bright and sunny and last night there the sky was so clear with beautiful stars, ok it was feckin freezing but I still had the stars.
I don't like the new Sharleen Spiteri CD, it sounds like 60's pop music, I gave it to my mum, she likes it and I wasn't that struck on the new Snow patrol one either.
Women underestimate how important sport is to men, I don't know if it's all sport but golf seems to be incredibly important, there is a huge application of thought and psychology that surprised me.
Men do not want to be questioned about things, they will even lie about stuff to avoid this kind of dialogue, I always thought it was conversation, they don't think it is.
Women are too harsh on themselves about their body image, men apparently aren't too fussed by a bit cellulite or the odd wobbly bit, the analogy used to explain this to me was " If I've got to the stage where you're naked then it 's like being 3 foot away from an open goal and stopping to play keepie uppie whilst checking out the condition of the pitch, if I'm 3 foot away from an open goal, I'm gonna make sure I shoot and score" Thank you, that makes me feel sooooooo much better.
I finally know how to do the click on the word thingy, I got a full tutorial this morning and he even wrote it down for me in step by step stages so I can do it all by my own self. Please click here to listen to a song I heard in the car on the way home, I had this up full blast and stuck my foot down, I'd forgotten how much I loved this song. They were playing in Glasgow last night and I didn't know, they were the first band I ever saw.
Every woman needs a bit of edge in her life
The greatest of thanks to my host, he re arranged his weekend, provided me with food and drink, cooked and washed up after me, washed and ironed the organic cotton bed linen, provided me with some extemely valuable insights into the male psyche, refrained from telling me what an arse I am making of my life and didn't comment on how funny I find things after a few glasses of the red stuff and how quickly I can inhale Merlot.
The M74 and M6 have a staggering amount of roadworks especially southbound, it took me 2 hours longer to drive back to England today than it did to get home on Friday. Yes, I am aware that I'm sounding like a Daily Mail reader, I'm working on it !
I get very irritable in traffic, I wasn't even appeased by the hot guy who smiled, winked and flirted with me for 25 minutes along the M6, I would rather have just not had the delay, what did he think could happen ? That I'd pull over and Gillian him on the hard shoulder ?
Scotland had the best of the weekend weather, it was beautifully Autumnal there, crisp but bright and sunny and last night there the sky was so clear with beautiful stars, ok it was feckin freezing but I still had the stars.
I don't like the new Sharleen Spiteri CD, it sounds like 60's pop music, I gave it to my mum, she likes it and I wasn't that struck on the new Snow patrol one either.
Women underestimate how important sport is to men, I don't know if it's all sport but golf seems to be incredibly important, there is a huge application of thought and psychology that surprised me.
Men do not want to be questioned about things, they will even lie about stuff to avoid this kind of dialogue, I always thought it was conversation, they don't think it is.
Women are too harsh on themselves about their body image, men apparently aren't too fussed by a bit cellulite or the odd wobbly bit, the analogy used to explain this to me was " If I've got to the stage where you're naked then it 's like being 3 foot away from an open goal and stopping to play keepie uppie whilst checking out the condition of the pitch, if I'm 3 foot away from an open goal, I'm gonna make sure I shoot and score" Thank you, that makes me feel sooooooo much better.
I finally know how to do the click on the word thingy, I got a full tutorial this morning and he even wrote it down for me in step by step stages so I can do it all by my own self. Please click here to listen to a song I heard in the car on the way home, I had this up full blast and stuck my foot down, I'd forgotten how much I loved this song. They were playing in Glasgow last night and I didn't know, they were the first band I ever saw.
Every woman needs a bit of edge in her life
The greatest of thanks to my host, he re arranged his weekend, provided me with food and drink, cooked and washed up after me, washed and ironed the organic cotton bed linen, provided me with some extemely valuable insights into the male psyche, refrained from telling me what an arse I am making of my life and didn't comment on how funny I find things after a few glasses of the red stuff and how quickly I can inhale Merlot.
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
10 Things I don't Understand
I don't think I'm a stupid person, I occasionally have moments of vacuousness but overall I am a functioning human. However, there are lots of little things I don't understand, maybe it's because I am turning onto a grumpy old woman with the luxury of a blog which allows me to spout off. I will focus on these little musings as I have real big grown up important scary stuff going on at present and in true auntiegwen style I am avoiding dealing with that and faffing around this kind of stuff instead.
Why my lip gloss becomes less of a threat to national security when , at airports, it is enclosed in a clear plastic bag.
Why my sister at the age of thirtyfeckinseven still has to have my mum take her to the dentist, I kid you not
Why people wear crocs, they must be the ugliest shoes ever, my kids call them shoes of the devil
Why I can't understand the Clyde tunnel, there is no feckin water anywhere nearby (save your breath, Edge, you've tried and failed before, unless you take me up in a helicopter and show me, I cannot understand how the tunnel goes underneath the river, when I can't see water anyfeckinwhere)
Why my eldest beautiful daughter cannot bear to look at naked feet, we all have to cover our tootsies up, this is a real pain on holiday
Why people start their Christmas shopping before December 1st, my sister starts on Boxing day in the sales which means you can never return things, Christmas should be a one month only thing, in December
Why it dements me when my children and my students leave everything to the last minute and yet I am exactly the same, you'd think I'd understand
Why people queue for ages and then when their turn comes suddenly realise that they need to pay or show their passport and then rummage about their person looking frantically for the required item, get feckin ready, why don't you ?
Why grown ups (usually men) play on x boxes and play stations and wii's, they're for children, they're called toys. We have stuff of our own to amuse us.
Why the Sainsbury's lady thinks I can bring with me enough plastic bags to do my whole weekly shop, she makes me feel like a Nazi when I produce 3 or 4 bags for life and can't fit all my shopping in them still have to have some free orange ones
Why my lip gloss becomes less of a threat to national security when , at airports, it is enclosed in a clear plastic bag.
Why my sister at the age of thirtyfeckinseven still has to have my mum take her to the dentist, I kid you not
Why people wear crocs, they must be the ugliest shoes ever, my kids call them shoes of the devil
Why I can't understand the Clyde tunnel, there is no feckin water anywhere nearby (save your breath, Edge, you've tried and failed before, unless you take me up in a helicopter and show me, I cannot understand how the tunnel goes underneath the river, when I can't see water anyfeckinwhere)
Why my eldest beautiful daughter cannot bear to look at naked feet, we all have to cover our tootsies up, this is a real pain on holiday
Why people start their Christmas shopping before December 1st, my sister starts on Boxing day in the sales which means you can never return things, Christmas should be a one month only thing, in December
Why it dements me when my children and my students leave everything to the last minute and yet I am exactly the same, you'd think I'd understand
Why people queue for ages and then when their turn comes suddenly realise that they need to pay or show their passport and then rummage about their person looking frantically for the required item, get feckin ready, why don't you ?
Why grown ups (usually men) play on x boxes and play stations and wii's, they're for children, they're called toys. We have stuff of our own to amuse us.
Why the Sainsbury's lady thinks I can bring with me enough plastic bags to do my whole weekly shop, she makes me feel like a Nazi when I produce 3 or 4 bags for life and can't fit all my shopping in them still have to have some free orange ones
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Well, that was the quickest week of the year !
Why do your holidays go so fast ? I'm back now from my week in the sun and it's feckin freezing here! We had a brilliant time. We didn't do much, just relaxed really, I did some AS level marking and EBD wrote some essays but mainly we just enjoyed not being at school. We were extremely lucky as the weather was gorgeous, around 25 every day but on Wednesday we did have a cloud for about 10 minutes, so I suffered too !
Our week contained lots of sunbathing (that would be me, my kids don't like to sunbathe, if I hadn't given birth to them, I'd seriously doubt they were mine)
Lots of swimming (that would be them, I didn't even go in the pool)
We visited the farmers market as we always do, and bought our stash of fruit and our yummy cashew, pistachio and honey and sesame peanuts as is our want.
We went out to eat a lot ! That will be why there are no photos of the sunbathing, I fear the world is not ready for my fatness in a bikini, but if I'm in my own garden I will happily inflict no end of nakedness on my poor children in my attempt at an all over tan.
We also spent lots of time with our beautiful friends who live next door to us in Turkey, the can't live without them, Keith and Heather, who have retired and are living their dream in the sunshine. They are a real inspiration to me, this is an uber happy second relationship for them and they just enjoy being, they've a real zest for life, game to try anything, myself and the kids love them to bits and not just for the treats and the rides on their quad bike !
On Beautiful baby Daughter's birthday, our lovely friends Keith and Heather treated BBD to a portrait after dinner and my little poser just loved it !
We also went go karting, my children scared the bejaysus outta me, they go really, really, fast. I, myself am a very careful and considerate, stick to the speed limit kinda gal.
Eldest beautiful Daughter couldn't understand my reluctance to let her drive my car when she turns 17 in March !
Please brace yourself for several gratuitous shots of my family, I just can't help myself, they're just too beautiful.
We just spent time together and they had a week of full fat Mummying without the distractions of school, marking, lesson prep, mates, myspace and ok I admit, blogging to get in the way. That was special, I know there won't be that many holidays left with all three of them. I do hope that the villa can be passed on and that they bring their own children there and recreate the lovely low key, relaxing, laughter packed holidays that I am fortunate enough to have with them.
I pretty much adore everything about my villa and my holidays there but for me one of THE best bits about it is this...
Every day around 6.30pm I have pink o'clock and as the beautiful children were getting showered I sat on the terrace, had a glass of the pink stuff and my cashew nuts in my special wee bowl (anal, who me ?) and watched the beautiful sunset over Babadag mountain, shown above and pink o'clock, shown below.
Our week contained lots of sunbathing (that would be me, my kids don't like to sunbathe, if I hadn't given birth to them, I'd seriously doubt they were mine)
Lots of swimming (that would be them, I didn't even go in the pool)
We visited the farmers market as we always do, and bought our stash of fruit and our yummy cashew, pistachio and honey and sesame peanuts as is our want.
We went out to eat a lot ! That will be why there are no photos of the sunbathing, I fear the world is not ready for my fatness in a bikini, but if I'm in my own garden I will happily inflict no end of nakedness on my poor children in my attempt at an all over tan.
We also spent lots of time with our beautiful friends who live next door to us in Turkey, the can't live without them, Keith and Heather, who have retired and are living their dream in the sunshine. They are a real inspiration to me, this is an uber happy second relationship for them and they just enjoy being, they've a real zest for life, game to try anything, myself and the kids love them to bits and not just for the treats and the rides on their quad bike !
On Beautiful baby Daughter's birthday, our lovely friends Keith and Heather treated BBD to a portrait after dinner and my little poser just loved it !
We also went go karting, my children scared the bejaysus outta me, they go really, really, fast. I, myself am a very careful and considerate, stick to the speed limit kinda gal.
Eldest beautiful Daughter couldn't understand my reluctance to let her drive my car when she turns 17 in March !
Please brace yourself for several gratuitous shots of my family, I just can't help myself, they're just too beautiful.
We just spent time together and they had a week of full fat Mummying without the distractions of school, marking, lesson prep, mates, myspace and ok I admit, blogging to get in the way. That was special, I know there won't be that many holidays left with all three of them. I do hope that the villa can be passed on and that they bring their own children there and recreate the lovely low key, relaxing, laughter packed holidays that I am fortunate enough to have with them.
I pretty much adore everything about my villa and my holidays there but for me one of THE best bits about it is this...
Every day around 6.30pm I have pink o'clock and as the beautiful children were getting showered I sat on the terrace, had a glass of the pink stuff and my cashew nuts in my special wee bowl (anal, who me ?) and watched the beautiful sunset over Babadag mountain, shown above and pink o'clock, shown below.
Thursday, 16 October 2008
Tomorrow
Tomorrow The Beautiful Children and I will be going here for half term, I am so looking forward to this.
Every morning we will be waking up to this.
And whilst we are there we have yet another thing to celebrate, I know it doesn't get much better than this !
On Monday my Beautiful Baby Daughter will be 12. I used to sing to her when she was a baby, this is her song...
Wee Tootsie Moppet
Mummies wee poppet
Daddies darling baby girl
You're the best thing in the world.
It doesn't seem like 12 years ago and yet when she's sleeping I really can see the baby version of her. She was the cutest little thing and the most articulate of them all, no matter what she puts her mind to, she'll do it. I would not be surprised to see her running the country one day. My little sweetie scone is not much smaller than me now but she still is and always will be my baby. She looks so much older this year, it's been the one I've seen the most difference in. She has the most glorious mop of titian hair and I am struggling to persuade her to keep it long, I would put ribbons in it, she just rolls her eyes at me. She now has very strong opinions on what she wants to wear and I know I have to let her grow up but she is very probably my last baby and I'd like to keep her that way as long as I can.She has an answer for everything and she can never admit that she's wrong, I don't know wher she gets that from!!! She has the most infectuous laugh and you can't help but join in. She could start a fight in an empty house but still is the most caring of wee souls. She is so enthusiatic and really goes for it, and despite the regular trumpet practice,I love her so very much and I am very priviledged to be her Mummy. She is my heart, mo chridhe.
Every morning we will be waking up to this.
And whilst we are there we have yet another thing to celebrate, I know it doesn't get much better than this !
On Monday my Beautiful Baby Daughter will be 12. I used to sing to her when she was a baby, this is her song...
Wee Tootsie Moppet
Mummies wee poppet
Daddies darling baby girl
You're the best thing in the world.
It doesn't seem like 12 years ago and yet when she's sleeping I really can see the baby version of her. She was the cutest little thing and the most articulate of them all, no matter what she puts her mind to, she'll do it. I would not be surprised to see her running the country one day. My little sweetie scone is not much smaller than me now but she still is and always will be my baby. She looks so much older this year, it's been the one I've seen the most difference in. She has the most glorious mop of titian hair and I am struggling to persuade her to keep it long, I would put ribbons in it, she just rolls her eyes at me. She now has very strong opinions on what she wants to wear and I know I have to let her grow up but she is very probably my last baby and I'd like to keep her that way as long as I can.She has an answer for everything and she can never admit that she's wrong, I don't know wher she gets that from!!! She has the most infectuous laugh and you can't help but join in. She could start a fight in an empty house but still is the most caring of wee souls. She is so enthusiatic and really goes for it, and despite the regular trumpet practice,I love her so very much and I am very priviledged to be her Mummy. She is my heart, mo chridhe.
Monday, 13 October 2008
10 things I cannot live without
My loved ones - my family and friends, you know who you are
Coffee - the bigger the better and if someone else makes it for me, nirvana
Music - in the car, on my ipod and best of all live, upcoming gigs include Glasvegas(again), Primal Scream and the Killers in Belfast, The Signals and The Valentines in ??? I think it's near Linlithgow, maybe Falkirk, I better find out soon and apparently Mr 2 Sox himself is taking me to see The View, any other blogmates want me to accompany them anywhere, just ask away, don't be shy now.
Books - I love reading and always have done, I average about 2 books a week but on holiday will easily read a book a day. Yes, they are proper books, without pictures, grown up ones, the fatter the better.
Blogger - for somone who is as technophobic as me it is relatively easy to do, I love my blog, I love your blogs and I would be so much the poorer if you weren't in my life, thank you for joining me and thank you for letting me share your lives too.
Running - I hate it but I love it, I get so fed up because I don't run in the winter much due to my general wussiness and the fact I won't run in rain, cold or the dark but when I do get on with it, I love the space it makes in my head. Ok and the fact it allows me to eat and still fit into my jeans.
Holidays - God they're good, aren't they ? Throw in some sunshine and you've got me, I will happily go anywhere, I just love new places, revisting places and just not being at home.
Texting - this makes me disproportionately happy, I text all the time, like a teenager. I don't bother with capitals and punctuation much. I adore getting them back too, and if you reply fairly quickly my wee cup of happiness runneth over.
Wine - I like red, rose and fizzy. I now know I can only do 2 or 3 glasses max, it's good to have learned your limits at the early age of 42, I feel.
Kissing - the more the better, I feel I don't get enough of this. I will happily smooch till my lips are frayed at the edges. I want to practice this till I get to Olympic standard.
Coffee - the bigger the better and if someone else makes it for me, nirvana
Music - in the car, on my ipod and best of all live, upcoming gigs include Glasvegas(again), Primal Scream and the Killers in Belfast, The Signals and The Valentines in ??? I think it's near Linlithgow, maybe Falkirk, I better find out soon and apparently Mr 2 Sox himself is taking me to see The View, any other blogmates want me to accompany them anywhere, just ask away, don't be shy now.
Books - I love reading and always have done, I average about 2 books a week but on holiday will easily read a book a day. Yes, they are proper books, without pictures, grown up ones, the fatter the better.
Blogger - for somone who is as technophobic as me it is relatively easy to do, I love my blog, I love your blogs and I would be so much the poorer if you weren't in my life, thank you for joining me and thank you for letting me share your lives too.
Running - I hate it but I love it, I get so fed up because I don't run in the winter much due to my general wussiness and the fact I won't run in rain, cold or the dark but when I do get on with it, I love the space it makes in my head. Ok and the fact it allows me to eat and still fit into my jeans.
Holidays - God they're good, aren't they ? Throw in some sunshine and you've got me, I will happily go anywhere, I just love new places, revisting places and just not being at home.
Texting - this makes me disproportionately happy, I text all the time, like a teenager. I don't bother with capitals and punctuation much. I adore getting them back too, and if you reply fairly quickly my wee cup of happiness runneth over.
Wine - I like red, rose and fizzy. I now know I can only do 2 or 3 glasses max, it's good to have learned your limits at the early age of 42, I feel.
Kissing - the more the better, I feel I don't get enough of this. I will happily smooch till my lips are frayed at the edges. I want to practice this till I get to Olympic standard.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
10 Things I really, really have to do in the next week
Tomorrow I have to get on t'internet and book tickets to see The Killers. They're touring and I have a notion to go and see them in Belfast. I love Belfast and apparently it's very what trendy now.
I really can't put that feckin tax return off any longer.
Ditto the Rarpa file ( very boring paperwork for Ofsted which is now 3 months late)
Pay my M&S credit card bill of £952.12, due tomorrow.
Mark 15 essays for my AS level students.
Get out of going speed dating with my friend Melanie, I'm so not doing that, even though I do love her and want to support her, the line has been drawn.
Try and talk Beautiful Baby Daughter out of wanting a 12 foot trampoline for her forthcoming birthday, it will eat my garden and I'll have nowhere to put my whirly.
On Tuesday go to a tutor development meeting for my adult ed job at the same time as my book group meeting which is held in the pub, oh, I wonder which one I prefer ?
On Thursday be a prospective parent looking round my school with The Beautiful Son at open evening whilst simultaneously being in my classroom as a teacher talking to prospective parents at open evening
Get on a plane and head off to the sunshine.
I really can't put that feckin tax return off any longer.
Ditto the Rarpa file ( very boring paperwork for Ofsted which is now 3 months late)
Pay my M&S credit card bill of £952.12, due tomorrow.
Mark 15 essays for my AS level students.
Get out of going speed dating with my friend Melanie, I'm so not doing that, even though I do love her and want to support her, the line has been drawn.
Try and talk Beautiful Baby Daughter out of wanting a 12 foot trampoline for her forthcoming birthday, it will eat my garden and I'll have nowhere to put my whirly.
On Tuesday go to a tutor development meeting for my adult ed job at the same time as my book group meeting which is held in the pub, oh, I wonder which one I prefer ?
On Thursday be a prospective parent looking round my school with The Beautiful Son at open evening whilst simultaneously being in my classroom as a teacher talking to prospective parents at open evening
Get on a plane and head off to the sunshine.
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
10 Things I really, really want
I've sat here for ages trying to write this. The things I think would make my life sooooo much more pleasurable. Lots of wasted time, umming and aahing, what do I come up with ?
Straight teeth, perkier bosoms and a psychology degree.
There were other little minor things, a Prada handbag, a Tiffany pendant that I am coveting with covety covetousness, a weekend away with a hot man and my tax return to be miraculously done, if the hot man can do that while I am luxuriating in the bath in the posh hotel room so much the better!
Dare I say this ? Could this possibly mean that Pollyanna is actually quite contented with her lot ? Am I happy ?
Straight teeth, perkier bosoms and a psychology degree.
There were other little minor things, a Prada handbag, a Tiffany pendant that I am coveting with covety covetousness, a weekend away with a hot man and my tax return to be miraculously done, if the hot man can do that while I am luxuriating in the bath in the posh hotel room so much the better!
Dare I say this ? Could this possibly mean that Pollyanna is actually quite contented with her lot ? Am I happy ?
Monday, 6 October 2008
I've lost it
I got my copy of our corporate plan (no, I don't know why schools have such a thing either but I've found it best to just keep quiet) So, I'm reading my department's section, I'm not too fussed about the other lots, just my bit. I read about what our plan was for last year and how we acheived it and it all sounded very what splendid.
I read about how we had appointed AG as a Subject Specialist and that this extra cost was justified as we had a complete 100% pass at A level etc blah blah blah. I momentarily wondered why I'd never met our subject specialist and mused over how strange it was that we had the same initials...
Yep, it's official, my brain has retired.
I read about how we had appointed AG as a Subject Specialist and that this extra cost was justified as we had a complete 100% pass at A level etc blah blah blah. I momentarily wondered why I'd never met our subject specialist and mused over how strange it was that we had the same initials...
Yep, it's official, my brain has retired.
Saturday, 4 October 2008
The Beautiful Son
The Beautiful Son talked at me for a bit yesterday. This is extremely unusual as he is not generally given to conversation, what with him being a teenage boy and all and he remains, despite my best efforts, a complete alpha male in training and totally not in touch with his feminine side. I spend a lot of time with him but we don't talk much, I like that, it's peaceful. His sisters would never sit in silence with me but he often does, I can be reading my book and he just either sits or lies beside me twirling a strand of my hair as he has done since he was a tiny baby.
The funniest part of this is because he is very quiet and he hardly ever converses like this, he does talk and stuff but he rarely expresses his opinions. The topic of this monologue was his forthcoming school council elections and he was so funny, he could have been on "Grumpy Old Men" It was quite ranty and there was't too much pause for breath. I think he used up a week's worth of conversation on this. I can't remember verbatim what he said but it was along the lines of.
AG - How was school today ?
TBS - I'm well pissed off
AG - Why ? ( very suprised at not receiving the customary grunt that tells me to shut the feck up )
TBS - You know the school elections ?
AG - Yeah ( but really means no as he hasn't mentioned them at all)
TBS - If you throw sweets into the crowd at the end of the vote for me bit, you get disqualified
AG - So ?
TBS - I managed to get into the 2nd row, right in the centre, prime postition, was bound to get plenty and then the fascists didn't let them chuck the sweets in
AG - non committal noises
TBS - I went into school early for that (in a disgruntled tone)
AG - Ah, give yourself peace,
TBS - And the school council never do anything
AG - If you don't step up to the plate don't moan about the others that do
TBS - Would you give YOURSELF peace, they only go to bloomin meetings, don't decide things and eat biscuits
AG - clamped as she knows that's exactly how most school meetings go.
So, not long in length but succinct and to the point.
The funniest part of this is because he is very quiet and he hardly ever converses like this, he does talk and stuff but he rarely expresses his opinions. The topic of this monologue was his forthcoming school council elections and he was so funny, he could have been on "Grumpy Old Men" It was quite ranty and there was't too much pause for breath. I think he used up a week's worth of conversation on this. I can't remember verbatim what he said but it was along the lines of.
AG - How was school today ?
TBS - I'm well pissed off
AG - Why ? ( very suprised at not receiving the customary grunt that tells me to shut the feck up )
TBS - You know the school elections ?
AG - Yeah ( but really means no as he hasn't mentioned them at all)
TBS - If you throw sweets into the crowd at the end of the vote for me bit, you get disqualified
AG - So ?
TBS - I managed to get into the 2nd row, right in the centre, prime postition, was bound to get plenty and then the fascists didn't let them chuck the sweets in
AG - non committal noises
TBS - I went into school early for that (in a disgruntled tone)
AG - Ah, give yourself peace,
TBS - And the school council never do anything
AG - If you don't step up to the plate don't moan about the others that do
TBS - Would you give YOURSELF peace, they only go to bloomin meetings, don't decide things and eat biscuits
AG - clamped as she knows that's exactly how most school meetings go.
So, not long in length but succinct and to the point.
Friday, 3 October 2008
10 Places I Have Never Been
I do actually want to go to all of these places, in no particular order.
Australia
South Africa
Havana
Istanbul
The Maldives
Berlin
Hong Kong
Brighton
Dubai
The Outer Hebrides
I'm not complaining mind, I've been very fortunate and have been to lots of fantastic places and there are many more that didn't make the 10. I've got another 10 that I've been to and would love to go back over and over again. I'm in a 10 frame of mind at the moment.
Australia
South Africa
Havana
Istanbul
The Maldives
Berlin
Hong Kong
Brighton
Dubai
The Outer Hebrides
I'm not complaining mind, I've been very fortunate and have been to lots of fantastic places and there are many more that didn't make the 10. I've got another 10 that I've been to and would love to go back over and over again. I'm in a 10 frame of mind at the moment.
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
10 Things I have Never Done
Had sex in a car (yes, even in that BMW at the weekend)
Taken any recreational drugs except cannabis
Been arrested or been given a caution
Been truly malicious or vindictive
Been unfaithful
Been tattooed (I did think about getting it done when I was 40 but my mother was horrified, so I didn't as I didn't want to upset my mammy)
Been actually at Murrayfield watching Scotland beat England and lift The Calcutta cup
Been in a hot air balloon
Swum with dolphins
Had a Prada handbag
So continuing on the last post's theme, I still am, pretty much a good girl and I can wear my Pollyanna badge with pride. Okay, I'll hold my hands up, for an ex punk, I've led a pretty tame life. But as my song says " If destiny's kind, I've got the rest of my life"
Time to get busy...
Taken any recreational drugs except cannabis
Been arrested or been given a caution
Been truly malicious or vindictive
Been unfaithful
Been tattooed (I did think about getting it done when I was 40 but my mother was horrified, so I didn't as I didn't want to upset my mammy)
Been actually at Murrayfield watching Scotland beat England and lift The Calcutta cup
Been in a hot air balloon
Swum with dolphins
Had a Prada handbag
So continuing on the last post's theme, I still am, pretty much a good girl and I can wear my Pollyanna badge with pride. Okay, I'll hold my hands up, for an ex punk, I've led a pretty tame life. But as my song says " If destiny's kind, I've got the rest of my life"
Time to get busy...
Sunday, 28 September 2008
I've been a good girl, I have
This weeks total of bad behaviour
I have eaten a whole Fruit and Nut toblerone, bought to accompany the viewing of my new Sex and The City DVD.
Out on Wednesday night, 3 glasses of pink fizzy, no sneaky fags, no snogging.
Out on Friday night, 2 Gin and Tonics, 1 sneaky fag, no snogging.
Out on Saturday night, 1 glass of pink, 2 and a half sneaky fags, copious amounts of snogging, on the rooftop terrace of a bar and then (hangs head in shame) more snogging on the back seat of a BMW (I know,everybody hates BMW drivers but I can't escape them, only BMW drivers find me attractive)
BUT
I have ran twice (to combat the fruit and nut toblerone)
I went to church this morning for Harvest festival, so I think overall, your auntie has behaved quite well this week.
I have eaten a whole Fruit and Nut toblerone, bought to accompany the viewing of my new Sex and The City DVD.
Out on Wednesday night, 3 glasses of pink fizzy, no sneaky fags, no snogging.
Out on Friday night, 2 Gin and Tonics, 1 sneaky fag, no snogging.
Out on Saturday night, 1 glass of pink, 2 and a half sneaky fags, copious amounts of snogging, on the rooftop terrace of a bar and then (hangs head in shame) more snogging on the back seat of a BMW (I know,everybody hates BMW drivers but I can't escape them, only BMW drivers find me attractive)
BUT
I have ran twice (to combat the fruit and nut toblerone)
I went to church this morning for Harvest festival, so I think overall, your auntie has behaved quite well this week.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Clothes Maketh The Woman
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman in posession of a credit card, must be in want of a shop (or 6)
My name is auntiegwen and I am a shopper, not to Olympic standard like the daughters but I'm not too shabby.
I like clothes and shoes and handbags but I'm not particularly adventurous, I tend to buy the same types of things. I have in my posession 4 grey cardigans, I'm too scared to count my Petit Bateau childrens vests (age 12) and my jeans (Gap) so regular me is jeans, vest tops and a cardie, I am very fond of my grey cashmere Gap one and also my new long boyfriend one from M and S.
Due to a change in hours and timetabling I have to be smart 4 days per week now, I used to only have to do 2, that's hard. I'm of an age (you probably noticed) and I want to look stylish but not old enough to know better, and that's becoming tricky, I'm not ready to look like a middle aged woman. I think because from age 18 to 33 I didn't have to think about work clothes because I was in a nurses uniform, so I do casual well, I'm told I scrub up well in my posh going out stuff but work ????
At school, my students really do critique what I wear and my fondness for wrap around DVF style dresses (2 black, long sleeved and sleeveless, 1 black and red, 1 black and grey and 2 green) makes Eldest Beautiful Daughter call me a refugee from a Boden catalogue. Incidentally these draw the most comments from staff, last week I got 3 compliments in my green Boden wrap round. Students tend to like trouser and long cardi combo's.
Yesterday I went off in black trousers, a fitted white shirt and a black waistcoat and I was feeling very what smart until Rik, my head of department said " Looking smart today, auntie, off to referee a snooker match at lunchtime ? "
No, but I'm off shopping today to find smart, stylish, age appropriate clothes that are as comfy as my jeans, vest top and cardi combos, am I asking too much ?
My name is auntiegwen and I am a shopper, not to Olympic standard like the daughters but I'm not too shabby.
I like clothes and shoes and handbags but I'm not particularly adventurous, I tend to buy the same types of things. I have in my posession 4 grey cardigans, I'm too scared to count my Petit Bateau childrens vests (age 12) and my jeans (Gap) so regular me is jeans, vest tops and a cardie, I am very fond of my grey cashmere Gap one and also my new long boyfriend one from M and S.
Due to a change in hours and timetabling I have to be smart 4 days per week now, I used to only have to do 2, that's hard. I'm of an age (you probably noticed) and I want to look stylish but not old enough to know better, and that's becoming tricky, I'm not ready to look like a middle aged woman. I think because from age 18 to 33 I didn't have to think about work clothes because I was in a nurses uniform, so I do casual well, I'm told I scrub up well in my posh going out stuff but work ????
At school, my students really do critique what I wear and my fondness for wrap around DVF style dresses (2 black, long sleeved and sleeveless, 1 black and red, 1 black and grey and 2 green) makes Eldest Beautiful Daughter call me a refugee from a Boden catalogue. Incidentally these draw the most comments from staff, last week I got 3 compliments in my green Boden wrap round. Students tend to like trouser and long cardi combo's.
Yesterday I went off in black trousers, a fitted white shirt and a black waistcoat and I was feeling very what smart until Rik, my head of department said " Looking smart today, auntie, off to referee a snooker match at lunchtime ? "
No, but I'm off shopping today to find smart, stylish, age appropriate clothes that are as comfy as my jeans, vest top and cardi combos, am I asking too much ?
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Again, with feeling, I am a lucky, lucky girl
You know how I always tell you, I'm a lucky lucky girl ?
Well, I am.
I'm alive, healthy and not too insolvent (credit card bill this month under a grand, yes, that is for a month, what can I do ?, the kids keep eating and demanding new kit for all the myriad of activities they collectively partake of, oh alright I bought shoes and some fancy knickers too)
I had a blissful Saturday night.
Today, the beautiful children and I went to Pizza Express for lunch and to see The Boy in Striped Pyjamas at the cinema. This is a delicately acted film with real pathos about the unlikely friendship between two little boys, one the son of a high ranking Nazi and the other a Jewish concentration camp inmate. My girls and I cried buckets at the end, and when we were walking from the cinema, my beautiful son put his arm around my shoulders and kept it there all through town to the car park.
I am really and truly blessed, I've never known real hardship in my life, I've never been persecuted for my ideas or beliefs, I've never been hungry and I've always had a home and I've always had love.
I love my life, I love the very bones of my children, I have people to care about and people who care about me and my children are safe, well and happy. That's not too shabby is it ? Trust me, I am unbelievably grateful for it.
Well, I am.
I'm alive, healthy and not too insolvent (credit card bill this month under a grand, yes, that is for a month, what can I do ?, the kids keep eating and demanding new kit for all the myriad of activities they collectively partake of, oh alright I bought shoes and some fancy knickers too)
I had a blissful Saturday night.
Today, the beautiful children and I went to Pizza Express for lunch and to see The Boy in Striped Pyjamas at the cinema. This is a delicately acted film with real pathos about the unlikely friendship between two little boys, one the son of a high ranking Nazi and the other a Jewish concentration camp inmate. My girls and I cried buckets at the end, and when we were walking from the cinema, my beautiful son put his arm around my shoulders and kept it there all through town to the car park.
I am really and truly blessed, I've never known real hardship in my life, I've never been persecuted for my ideas or beliefs, I've never been hungry and I've always had a home and I've always had love.
I love my life, I love the very bones of my children, I have people to care about and people who care about me and my children are safe, well and happy. That's not too shabby is it ? Trust me, I am unbelievably grateful for it.
Friday, 19 September 2008
Because Tom Foolery asked me to...
Here you have regular auntiegwen, albeit in her best frock before a night out, taken in my friend Melanie's bedroom.
Now scroll down to see me do my Sarah Palin inpersonation, using Mel's glasses this time.
Now scroll down to see me do my Sarah Palin inpersonation, using Mel's glasses this time.
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Black Boxes
Go me, I managed to add something to my blog.
Have a go, click on the black box and see where it takes you, but I warn you, it's more addictive than fruit and nut toblerones, and that's saying something !!!
ps in a techie kind of way, can someone help me to do a click on the word thingy so you can all read himself's proper review of the Glasvegas gig, because it's worth reading, he's very clever, and he writes well too.
Have a go, click on the black box and see where it takes you, but I warn you, it's more addictive than fruit and nut toblerones, and that's saying something !!!
ps in a techie kind of way, can someone help me to do a click on the word thingy so you can all read himself's proper review of the Glasvegas gig, because it's worth reading, he's very clever, and he writes well too.
Monday, 15 September 2008
Glasvegas at The Plug
Last night we went to see Glasvegas at The Plug in Sheffield. They're a band from Glasgow and have become very special to us. This was a romantic gesture from himself to me and the gig meant a lot to us. Strange band to be romantic to but hey, we wouldn't be any other way.
Apologies for the plentiful swearing, it may not be everyones cup of tea but I love them, they're raw and I'm from Glasgow and an ex punk, I can cope with a bit swearing.
I won't wax lyrical
a because I can't and
b because himself wants to write about it when he remembers his blogger password.
So I'll give you the non music bits and less considered prose.
I had to translate quite a bit,eg a square go means a challenge to a fight, himself hasn't been blessed and isn't Scottish like me, so some of our more quaint sayings bemuse him. I did think that most of the audience had no clue what the band were trying to say.
He took me to see the Fuck the English, Scotland the Brave graffiti that was a kind of make up gesture after a little disagreement.
I lost 1 of my best earrings (Gucci, white gold, I know I'm sad about that too, no I don't know why I wore them either)
From the fountains to the carpark, I had a blast and there is no one else I'd have wanted to see them with.
So please click on the logo Glasvegas and read the proper review.
Thursday, 11 September 2008
Sarah Palin
Ok, what gives ?
Why do men of a certain age find her attractive ? Just about every man I know is drooling over her. Even my drunkety, drunk, drunk co conspirator.
Yesterday, I sneaked off work and met him for lunch. I wore a sexy black suit with a tight pencil skirt, the infamous LKB shoes, stuck my hair up again and borrowed The Beautiful Son's glasses.
Putty in my hands.
Could this be a new career for me ? Would people pay money for this ?
Why do men of a certain age find her attractive ? Just about every man I know is drooling over her. Even my drunkety, drunk, drunk co conspirator.
Yesterday, I sneaked off work and met him for lunch. I wore a sexy black suit with a tight pencil skirt, the infamous LKB shoes, stuck my hair up again and borrowed The Beautiful Son's glasses.
Putty in my hands.
Could this be a new career for me ? Would people pay money for this ?
Monday, 8 September 2008
Drunkety, drunk, drunk...again
Saturday evening
Friend's 40th (quite a special friend)
Out in town, 3 coats of mascara and hair up, was told I was looking "foxy", also had been informed that I was irresistable , this was a good week for your auntie, premium quality mush was coming my way.
Copious amounts of flirting, truly outrageous amounts, not behaving age appropriately AT ALL, in fact, behaving very badly in 1 bar, your auntie was definitely on a promise
3 glasses of the pink stuff, I kid you not, only 3
1 cheeky/sneaky fag, of the regular variety
1 extremely dizzy auntiegwen
Ashamed to say, did actually vomit, in public, I know, the shame of it, on my sexy L.K.Bennett £129 shoes too !
Was taken home
Managed to take clothes off, brush teeth and put myself to bed, alone, in my fancy underwear, which didn't get the appreciation it deserved on the cost per wear aspect.
Fell fast asleep
Birthday friend waited for an hour
Birthday friend then drove home ( miles away, at least 40 miles) but phoned several times to check on me
Still fast asleep, didn't answer any calls or return texts
Was awakened by friend, next morning, who's driven back because they've spent the whole night worrying about me
Lovely friend didn't yell at me for spoiling evening, or worrying them half to death, even brought me my coffee in bed.
I didn't even have the decency to be hung over !
Again, I apologize for my outrageous behaviour, I spend a lot of time apologizing ! usually to the same person. I have to face sad facts, I am going to have to grow up.
Friend's 40th (quite a special friend)
Out in town, 3 coats of mascara and hair up, was told I was looking "foxy", also had been informed that I was irresistable , this was a good week for your auntie, premium quality mush was coming my way.
Copious amounts of flirting, truly outrageous amounts, not behaving age appropriately AT ALL, in fact, behaving very badly in 1 bar, your auntie was definitely on a promise
3 glasses of the pink stuff, I kid you not, only 3
1 cheeky/sneaky fag, of the regular variety
1 extremely dizzy auntiegwen
Ashamed to say, did actually vomit, in public, I know, the shame of it, on my sexy L.K.Bennett £129 shoes too !
Was taken home
Managed to take clothes off, brush teeth and put myself to bed, alone, in my fancy underwear, which didn't get the appreciation it deserved on the cost per wear aspect.
Fell fast asleep
Birthday friend waited for an hour
Birthday friend then drove home ( miles away, at least 40 miles) but phoned several times to check on me
Still fast asleep, didn't answer any calls or return texts
Was awakened by friend, next morning, who's driven back because they've spent the whole night worrying about me
Lovely friend didn't yell at me for spoiling evening, or worrying them half to death, even brought me my coffee in bed.
I didn't even have the decency to be hung over !
Again, I apologize for my outrageous behaviour, I spend a lot of time apologizing ! usually to the same person. I have to face sad facts, I am going to have to grow up.
Friday, 5 September 2008
Susan
This is a sad post, best to warn you now in case you're not up for it.
The Beautiful Mother has a best friend called Susan, she's the friend you have to call Auntie even though she's not. My Mum and Susan have been friends for years and she's been there all the way through my teens (and tantrums) and now into my middle age (slightly less tantrums). My parents and Susan and John spent masses of time together especially now since myself and my sister and Susan and John's 2 sons have grown up. My Mum sees her every day.
Susan is very bright, articulate, stylish and on the money, she is a serial entrepeneur and a real force to be reckoned with. She's great fun and has always been a fantastic friend and support to my family, she's always been there. My sister is very close to her and when my sister was getting engaged Susan gave her her own engagement ring as she has no daughter, she's that kind.
Susan's mum Margaret developed Polycystic Kidney Disease and went on dialysis when I was in High School. My Mum and Susan set up a branch of the British Kidney Patients Association as there was no local one and raised shed loads of money. Margaret had 2 transplants which both sadly failed and she died after a long struggle with the disease whilst only in her 60's.
Susan and her brothers were both tested as PKD is an inherited disease, both brothers were clear but Susan tested positive, in 2003 her kidneys began to fail and Susan went on dialysis. The last 5 years have been so incredibly tough for her family, Susan chose not to go on the transplant list because of what her own mother went through, so every night she would hook up her bags and dialyse through the night, living with a chronic disease takes a big toll on everyone but they were managing.
Over the last year, Susan has become increasingly unwell, she is unrecognizable from the woman she really is and has been unable to move around without a zimmer frame and when she goes out she needs one of them old lady scooter things, my mum is a dab hand and dismantling and re assembling them. Her quality of life has taken a complete nose dive. Her husband has had to give up their very successful business and now works part time locally and my mum goes in when he is at work.
Susan has spent the last 3 weeks in hospital, last week her heart stopped but she was resuscitated. She is so incredibly tired and yesterday when my mum went to see her, she told her of her decision to stop dialysis, she will only live for a week or two maximum without it.
She feels she doesn't want to just exist and that she has no quality of life, she will leave behind a husband, 2 sons one of whom's partner is expecting their first baby and my mum. I wonder how they feel. Numb, probably.
She's only 52.
The Beautiful Mother has a best friend called Susan, she's the friend you have to call Auntie even though she's not. My Mum and Susan have been friends for years and she's been there all the way through my teens (and tantrums) and now into my middle age (slightly less tantrums). My parents and Susan and John spent masses of time together especially now since myself and my sister and Susan and John's 2 sons have grown up. My Mum sees her every day.
Susan is very bright, articulate, stylish and on the money, she is a serial entrepeneur and a real force to be reckoned with. She's great fun and has always been a fantastic friend and support to my family, she's always been there. My sister is very close to her and when my sister was getting engaged Susan gave her her own engagement ring as she has no daughter, she's that kind.
Susan's mum Margaret developed Polycystic Kidney Disease and went on dialysis when I was in High School. My Mum and Susan set up a branch of the British Kidney Patients Association as there was no local one and raised shed loads of money. Margaret had 2 transplants which both sadly failed and she died after a long struggle with the disease whilst only in her 60's.
Susan and her brothers were both tested as PKD is an inherited disease, both brothers were clear but Susan tested positive, in 2003 her kidneys began to fail and Susan went on dialysis. The last 5 years have been so incredibly tough for her family, Susan chose not to go on the transplant list because of what her own mother went through, so every night she would hook up her bags and dialyse through the night, living with a chronic disease takes a big toll on everyone but they were managing.
Over the last year, Susan has become increasingly unwell, she is unrecognizable from the woman she really is and has been unable to move around without a zimmer frame and when she goes out she needs one of them old lady scooter things, my mum is a dab hand and dismantling and re assembling them. Her quality of life has taken a complete nose dive. Her husband has had to give up their very successful business and now works part time locally and my mum goes in when he is at work.
Susan has spent the last 3 weeks in hospital, last week her heart stopped but she was resuscitated. She is so incredibly tired and yesterday when my mum went to see her, she told her of her decision to stop dialysis, she will only live for a week or two maximum without it.
She feels she doesn't want to just exist and that she has no quality of life, she will leave behind a husband, 2 sons one of whom's partner is expecting their first baby and my mum. I wonder how they feel. Numb, probably.
She's only 52.