The Beautiful Son had all his long floppy hair cut off in the first week of the school holidays. I was kinda sad as I liked his long hair but he made the decision and off it came.
He returned to school on Thursday and on Thursday night he received a text. This was from a girl who has been keen on him since last September, she really is a lovely girl but girls are just not on his radar yet. Fair play to her, she's kept up this texting for a year, she's patient, she's loyal and she's obviously prepared to play a long game. I like her already.
The text said " I like your new haircut, it reminded me of a baby bird, all sweet and fluffy"
Just what my rugby playing, jackass video making, electric guitar playing, Linkin Park, Foo Fighters and Nirvana adoring, wanna be alpha male, teenage son wants to be compared to !
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Monday, 25 August 2008
Dublin
The happy happy day FINALLY arrived, whaddya mean, what happy day ?
The day the mummy and the lara went to see the mighty Killers, silly
A middle aged woman who's old enough to know better and an over excited teenager went to the airport. Aren't you glad you weren't sitting beside us ? Both giddy with excitement but she'd had a fair ammount of sugar as well.
We arrived in Dublin, got a bus into the city centre and started exploring. I asked her to hold the map for me as I had the bags, she stuck it in her pocket and lost it 20 seconds later ! This was to be a recurring theme. I've been to Dublin lots, this was the EBD first time, she loved it, she really really likes accents and she likened it to being in Glasgow with the humour and random people talking to you. We went to Bewley's for lunch and saw some sights before off to the hotel to get changed for the gig. We got another map from the hotel and found our way to where the concert buses were leaving. Great great craic on the bus out. When we got to Marlay Park, they were giving out free lollies and pink wigs, I confess I did take a lolly.
On arrival, I rolled up my jeans and prepared to get my flip flops muddy, this was a real chore for herself as my poor baby has a phobis about feet, she hates them, even her own but I have no wellies, so I reckoned I'd just wash the mud off afterwards. There was a lot of muttering about how daft it was not to be wearing converse but at the end of the night, hers were trashed (yet another pair bites the dust) and I could wash my feet. A pint of lager helped her through this trauma.
Your auntie got a wee bit excited at having her merlot in a field in a plastic glass, classy eh ?
The atmosphere was simply amazing, we met a really nice couple of guys from Preston, they were great company, my age, and we smiled a few times at the antics of the very boisterous Irish crowd that Lara was befriended by. The older couple of guys were kind enough to give Lara their ticket as yes, you guessed it, she lost ours out of her pocket when she was crowd surfing, and she keeps all her tickets as minders.We really were lucky to meet such a lovely crowd of young lads, 1 of whom was a physio student in Edinburgh, they were great craic and stuck us on their shoulders for a better view, this is a very happy daughter during "All these things that I have done"
This concert was brilliant, The Killers were amazing, a short set but worth every penny of the £500 in total that I spent. The very first song that they played was " For Reasons Unknown" which some of you may know is the theme tune for my new life. I had said to the people we met I didn't care what they played as long as that was on. It was just magical, especially as it was the first song, just like it was meant for me. Going to this concert was the first thing I've done in a long time that was just for me, a real piece of selfishness, when they played the opening bars, Lara just looked at me and we screamed together and then started moshing like mad. I have to say that that was the best 4 minutes of my life. Really and truly, so I apologize to anyone who has had a 4 minute moment with me, you didn't make the cut.
PLEASE PLEASE click on the wee thingy, share with me the best 4 minutes of my life.
The whole thing was brilliant, I enjoyed Bloc Party but I was only there for The Killers, and I wish I could put into words how fantastic it was for me.
After the concert we waited an hour in a queue for the bus back into Dublin city centre but as always the great craic kept us mightily entertained. As herself had lost the map again, when we got off the bus as we were both wiped and it was after 1 am, we got a taxi back to the hotel. This was the best 10 euro I have ever spent as the taxi driver should have been doing stand up at the Edinburgh Festival. He was very non PC but hysterically funny, he kept going on about us paying good money to stand "like knackers in a field" paying over the odds for crap beer " up to your tits in mud" in the strongest Dub accent you've ever heard. When we got back it took me ages to get the mud off my feet but eventually I was clean enough for herself and I was allowed to get into the bed.
At breakfast, she decided she would bring home the Matthew (chief matey boy, well beloved of both the Mummy and the Lara) a pot of jam and donate the pink wig of the night before. The Lara decided it would be a gas laugh if we did a little tour of Dub with the jam and the pink wig.
The mummy was a bit concerned about walking around with the Lara in a pink wig and a pot of jam but found it easier just to accept what she couldn't understand.
We took Matthew's jam sightseeing, he went to Starbuck's in O' Connell St, to visit Molly Malone's statue, to St Stephen's Green and to Trinity College.
Finally, just before we went to the airport we took Matthew's jam for a Guiness.
The day the mummy and the lara went to see the mighty Killers, silly
A middle aged woman who's old enough to know better and an over excited teenager went to the airport. Aren't you glad you weren't sitting beside us ? Both giddy with excitement but she'd had a fair ammount of sugar as well.
We arrived in Dublin, got a bus into the city centre and started exploring. I asked her to hold the map for me as I had the bags, she stuck it in her pocket and lost it 20 seconds later ! This was to be a recurring theme. I've been to Dublin lots, this was the EBD first time, she loved it, she really really likes accents and she likened it to being in Glasgow with the humour and random people talking to you. We went to Bewley's for lunch and saw some sights before off to the hotel to get changed for the gig. We got another map from the hotel and found our way to where the concert buses were leaving. Great great craic on the bus out. When we got to Marlay Park, they were giving out free lollies and pink wigs, I confess I did take a lolly.
On arrival, I rolled up my jeans and prepared to get my flip flops muddy, this was a real chore for herself as my poor baby has a phobis about feet, she hates them, even her own but I have no wellies, so I reckoned I'd just wash the mud off afterwards. There was a lot of muttering about how daft it was not to be wearing converse but at the end of the night, hers were trashed (yet another pair bites the dust) and I could wash my feet. A pint of lager helped her through this trauma.
Your auntie got a wee bit excited at having her merlot in a field in a plastic glass, classy eh ?
The atmosphere was simply amazing, we met a really nice couple of guys from Preston, they were great company, my age, and we smiled a few times at the antics of the very boisterous Irish crowd that Lara was befriended by. The older couple of guys were kind enough to give Lara their ticket as yes, you guessed it, she lost ours out of her pocket when she was crowd surfing, and she keeps all her tickets as minders.We really were lucky to meet such a lovely crowd of young lads, 1 of whom was a physio student in Edinburgh, they were great craic and stuck us on their shoulders for a better view, this is a very happy daughter during "All these things that I have done"
This concert was brilliant, The Killers were amazing, a short set but worth every penny of the £500 in total that I spent. The very first song that they played was " For Reasons Unknown" which some of you may know is the theme tune for my new life. I had said to the people we met I didn't care what they played as long as that was on. It was just magical, especially as it was the first song, just like it was meant for me. Going to this concert was the first thing I've done in a long time that was just for me, a real piece of selfishness, when they played the opening bars, Lara just looked at me and we screamed together and then started moshing like mad. I have to say that that was the best 4 minutes of my life. Really and truly, so I apologize to anyone who has had a 4 minute moment with me, you didn't make the cut.
PLEASE PLEASE click on the wee thingy, share with me the best 4 minutes of my life.
The whole thing was brilliant, I enjoyed Bloc Party but I was only there for The Killers, and I wish I could put into words how fantastic it was for me.
After the concert we waited an hour in a queue for the bus back into Dublin city centre but as always the great craic kept us mightily entertained. As herself had lost the map again, when we got off the bus as we were both wiped and it was after 1 am, we got a taxi back to the hotel. This was the best 10 euro I have ever spent as the taxi driver should have been doing stand up at the Edinburgh Festival. He was very non PC but hysterically funny, he kept going on about us paying good money to stand "like knackers in a field" paying over the odds for crap beer " up to your tits in mud" in the strongest Dub accent you've ever heard. When we got back it took me ages to get the mud off my feet but eventually I was clean enough for herself and I was allowed to get into the bed.
At breakfast, she decided she would bring home the Matthew (chief matey boy, well beloved of both the Mummy and the Lara) a pot of jam and donate the pink wig of the night before. The Lara decided it would be a gas laugh if we did a little tour of Dub with the jam and the pink wig.
The mummy was a bit concerned about walking around with the Lara in a pink wig and a pot of jam but found it easier just to accept what she couldn't understand.
We took Matthew's jam sightseeing, he went to Starbuck's in O' Connell St, to visit Molly Malone's statue, to St Stephen's Green and to Trinity College.
Finally, just before we went to the airport we took Matthew's jam for a Guiness.
Monday, 18 August 2008
The rules according to me
I have decided to publish this set of rules in the interests of clarity and fair play. Just so there's no misunderstanding and when I put on my cross voice and give you my "I'm very disappointed in you face"
The Beautiful Children Rules
Stop feckin fighting with each other and for my time and attention, you are wearing me out. When I am on the phone, leave the room, you are not an enhancement to my conversation. If I am going out do not give me an interrogation that the CIA would be proud of, accept my vague explanation of me going to see a friend without demanding proof of who where when and why, I am fortyfeckintwo and I am entitled to a teeny tiny bit of privacy. You are not allowed to drink, smoke, take drugs, listen to crap music or have sex until you are 18, I would prefer 36 but I am a reasonable woman. The caveat to this includes 18 and not living with me. Wait till you get to University and knock yourself out.
The Beautiful Children's friends aka The Matey Boys rules
I do not wish to see your pants - ever. If you wish to wear your trousers just below your arse, when with me ensure you have a long enough t shirt to cover them. You are not allowed to have inappropriate thoughts about me, I will never entertain you, I have tea towels older than you and it grosses out Eldest Beautiful Daughter.
The Beautiful House rules
Don't break things, occasionally try and investigate what the Dyson does, do not put empty things back into the fridge or cupboard, lock the door when you leave and never poo in the downstairs loo or even worse my ensuite.
The Beautiful Students rules
No visible pants allowed (see TBC friends rules for further explanation if necessary). Do not use your mobile in lessons, if I catch you doing so I will speak to the other person and embarass you mightily. If I catch you texting I will read your most entertaining messages aloud to the class. If you are MSN ing or facebooking or myspacing, prepare to be ripped apart, I have a pithy wit and I'm not afraid to use it in print. No gum allowed, I don't like it. I will only allow Ipod usage when I am not speaking and only if I can find something on your ipod that I would personally listen to. I cannot bear and will not allow the phrases "innit, well good/bad or huh." This may be added to from time to time depending on your behaviour, language and demeanor and what time of the month it is or how TBC are behaving.
I am thinking of having the students rules printed up and distributed at the beginning of term as I am a middle aged woman with too much time and access to a laminator ( little in joke for sixy and her partner, it's a fab quote pinched shamelessly from him)
There I give you the law and gospel accoring to St Gwen. We should have no problems now.
The Beautiful Children Rules
Stop feckin fighting with each other and for my time and attention, you are wearing me out. When I am on the phone, leave the room, you are not an enhancement to my conversation. If I am going out do not give me an interrogation that the CIA would be proud of, accept my vague explanation of me going to see a friend without demanding proof of who where when and why, I am fortyfeckintwo and I am entitled to a teeny tiny bit of privacy. You are not allowed to drink, smoke, take drugs, listen to crap music or have sex until you are 18, I would prefer 36 but I am a reasonable woman. The caveat to this includes 18 and not living with me. Wait till you get to University and knock yourself out.
The Beautiful Children's friends aka The Matey Boys rules
I do not wish to see your pants - ever. If you wish to wear your trousers just below your arse, when with me ensure you have a long enough t shirt to cover them. You are not allowed to have inappropriate thoughts about me, I will never entertain you, I have tea towels older than you and it grosses out Eldest Beautiful Daughter.
The Beautiful House rules
Don't break things, occasionally try and investigate what the Dyson does, do not put empty things back into the fridge or cupboard, lock the door when you leave and never poo in the downstairs loo or even worse my ensuite.
The Beautiful Students rules
No visible pants allowed (see TBC friends rules for further explanation if necessary). Do not use your mobile in lessons, if I catch you doing so I will speak to the other person and embarass you mightily. If I catch you texting I will read your most entertaining messages aloud to the class. If you are MSN ing or facebooking or myspacing, prepare to be ripped apart, I have a pithy wit and I'm not afraid to use it in print. No gum allowed, I don't like it. I will only allow Ipod usage when I am not speaking and only if I can find something on your ipod that I would personally listen to. I cannot bear and will not allow the phrases "innit, well good/bad or huh." This may be added to from time to time depending on your behaviour, language and demeanor and what time of the month it is or how TBC are behaving.
I am thinking of having the students rules printed up and distributed at the beginning of term as I am a middle aged woman with too much time and access to a laminator ( little in joke for sixy and her partner, it's a fab quote pinched shamelessly from him)
There I give you the law and gospel accoring to St Gwen. We should have no problems now.
Sunday, 17 August 2008
Smile, Mummy
I was going out on Friday evening as was Eldest Beautiful Daughter. I was going to the local pub, so local I can see my front room from their beer garden and Eldest Beautiful Daughter was going to a fancy dress birthday party.
EBD went as Magenta Devine from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. For the uninitiated, a big fave film of mine and EBD (taught her everything she knows, esp the bad, age inappropriate stuff)
Magenta basically looks like a French Maid, very short black puffball dress, white apron, black fishnets, black Mary Janes (EBD are double strapped) and madly backcombed hair and lashings of mascara and black eyeliner. To be fair, it's not madly different from her normal Emo ish going out look.
The dress in question she uses is 3 years old and EBD had grown a lot in height over the last 3 years. I did mention this fact in a vaguely concerned mummy type fashion that that was what every Mummy wanted her very beautiful 16 year old daughter to be cutting about on a Friday night dressed like a French Maid and that I hoped she had on a sturdy pair of pants, my preference would have been for her to be wearing The Beautiful Son's black rugby shorts. Herself just laughed at me and said " Silly Mummy, pat the silly Mummy" and she pats me on the head, she is way taller than me, she does this a lot as it makes me howl with laughter and usually allows her to escape my displeasure/annoyance/telling off etc etc.
So off she goes and I get into the shower, when I'm all wet I reach for my shaving gel and razor, only to find them not there. EBD has come in to my ensuite and nicked my shaving gear, and has left it in the children's bathroom. This is not the first time and it really really annoys me. I know I shouldn't moan about trivial stuff really but I get so cross that the girls just help themselves to my stuff that's bad enough but not to return it just makes me even more cross.
When I get out the shower I send her a passive aggressive text message ( I am good at passive aggressive) that says
"Eldest Beautiful Daughter (using her full first, middle and surname, that's how you know the mummy is really cross with you)
I am really really cross with you (making your point)
You nicked my shaving gear AGAIN (in capitals, emphasising your point)
Didn't return it AGAIN and now I have to go out with hairy legs ( more capitals, she knows I don't generally bother with them or punctuation, so really emphasising the point)
You are very selfish (playing the guilt card)
I am so cross with you that I will only put 1 kiss at the end of this message ( I end all messages to my children with love you or love you lots and usually their age in kisses - I am now overgilding the lily and this is the passive aggressive part)
Her reply
" I'm sorry Mummy, I have no money to buy my own and I forgotted. Please don't be cross. Smile, ( a wee smiley face picture is at this bit) I'm wearing 2 pairs of pants, under and over tights for super safety and I won't take them off all night, even if a hot boy asks me nicely. Love you xx "
That's when I stopped being cross and started laughing. Again,that's why I love my children.
EBD went as Magenta Devine from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. For the uninitiated, a big fave film of mine and EBD (taught her everything she knows, esp the bad, age inappropriate stuff)
Magenta basically looks like a French Maid, very short black puffball dress, white apron, black fishnets, black Mary Janes (EBD are double strapped) and madly backcombed hair and lashings of mascara and black eyeliner. To be fair, it's not madly different from her normal Emo ish going out look.
The dress in question she uses is 3 years old and EBD had grown a lot in height over the last 3 years. I did mention this fact in a vaguely concerned mummy type fashion that that was what every Mummy wanted her very beautiful 16 year old daughter to be cutting about on a Friday night dressed like a French Maid and that I hoped she had on a sturdy pair of pants, my preference would have been for her to be wearing The Beautiful Son's black rugby shorts. Herself just laughed at me and said " Silly Mummy, pat the silly Mummy" and she pats me on the head, she is way taller than me, she does this a lot as it makes me howl with laughter and usually allows her to escape my displeasure/annoyance/telling off etc etc.
So off she goes and I get into the shower, when I'm all wet I reach for my shaving gel and razor, only to find them not there. EBD has come in to my ensuite and nicked my shaving gear, and has left it in the children's bathroom. This is not the first time and it really really annoys me. I know I shouldn't moan about trivial stuff really but I get so cross that the girls just help themselves to my stuff that's bad enough but not to return it just makes me even more cross.
When I get out the shower I send her a passive aggressive text message ( I am good at passive aggressive) that says
"Eldest Beautiful Daughter (using her full first, middle and surname, that's how you know the mummy is really cross with you)
I am really really cross with you (making your point)
You nicked my shaving gear AGAIN (in capitals, emphasising your point)
Didn't return it AGAIN and now I have to go out with hairy legs ( more capitals, she knows I don't generally bother with them or punctuation, so really emphasising the point)
You are very selfish (playing the guilt card)
I am so cross with you that I will only put 1 kiss at the end of this message ( I end all messages to my children with love you or love you lots and usually their age in kisses - I am now overgilding the lily and this is the passive aggressive part)
Her reply
" I'm sorry Mummy, I have no money to buy my own and I forgotted. Please don't be cross. Smile, ( a wee smiley face picture is at this bit) I'm wearing 2 pairs of pants, under and over tights for super safety and I won't take them off all night, even if a hot boy asks me nicely. Love you xx "
That's when I stopped being cross and started laughing. Again,that's why I love my children.
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
The moral of the story is...
Once upon a time there was a woman who fell in love. The man she loved shared the same birthday as she did. She felt this gave them a special bond. The woman fell out of love with the man and they parted but she was still grateful for the time they had shared together and wished him no harm.
On the shared birthday the woman sent a very carefully worded and thoughtful email to the man. He replied from his work email address...
"Thanks, hope you had a good one too...K" and underneath was his name and job title.
Mr Ex Boyfriend
Communications Manager, Europe.
The woman laughed for quite a long time and wondered when he would realise he didn't quite have the appropriate skill set for that particular role.
The End
On the shared birthday the woman sent a very carefully worded and thoughtful email to the man. He replied from his work email address...
"Thanks, hope you had a good one too...K" and underneath was his name and job title.
Mr Ex Boyfriend
Communications Manager, Europe.
The woman laughed for quite a long time and wondered when he would realise he didn't quite have the appropriate skill set for that particular role.
The End
Tuesday, 12 August 2008
Forty feckin Two
I have been showered with gifts, cards, texts and emails, I thank you kindly.
Filthiest card of the day award goes to The Edge
Funniest message written inside the card goes to The Beautiful Son.
Filthiest card of the day award goes to The Edge
Funniest message written inside the card goes to The Beautiful Son.
Monday, 11 August 2008
Drunkety, Drunk, Drunk
Oh yes, I was
The recipe ?
4 women old enough to know better
1 birthday night out ( me on Tues, herself on Fri)
3 bottles of pink fizzy and no dinner
Watch Mama Mia - we had the singalong version (no, the other cinema goers weren't expecting that and surprisingly no one complained, not even when we waved our mobile phones ( for the lights) in the air at the slow ones, I like to think we enhanced their enjoyment !)
Round the evening off with some late night flirty texting.
There you have it
Drunkety, drunk, drunk
The recipe ?
4 women old enough to know better
1 birthday night out ( me on Tues, herself on Fri)
3 bottles of pink fizzy and no dinner
Watch Mama Mia - we had the singalong version (no, the other cinema goers weren't expecting that and surprisingly no one complained, not even when we waved our mobile phones ( for the lights) in the air at the slow ones, I like to think we enhanced their enjoyment !)
Round the evening off with some late night flirty texting.
There you have it
Drunkety, drunk, drunk
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Please may I have....
It's my birthday on Tuesday, I am going to be 21 AGAIN, how weird is that I am actually coming to the end of my 2nd 21 years.
Usually I've got an idea of what I want for my birthday, it's fair to say it usually involves jewellery of the silver colour (Tiffany is the drug of choice)and I am partial to a new handbag (Prada, please) but I've no particular covet this year but feel free to surprise me.
What I would really really like is
My house to be properly cleaned from top to bottom (windows, cupboards, under the beds, oh horror of horrors...the oven !!)
My ongoing Rarpa file to be done and sent back (very boring paperwork file that will take me 10 hours to do as I have ignored it for the whole year instead of doing it as I went along)
My tax return to be filled in and dealt with, I have to fill in a self assessment, a foreign and an employed section and the calculations on how many nights I personally have spent in the villa makes me need a big drink.
My divorce to be filed
My pile of clothes that are awaiting going to the dry cleaners, being hemmed, having buttons sewn back on etc etc being dealt with
The inevitable back to school shopping hell done for me
I would like my neck kissed thoroughly and then all the way down my spine
I would like breakfast in bed
After reading this back, I now realise that what I would like for my birthday is someone to help me do all the things in my life I can't be arsed to do for myself. I know what they're called, in fact I used to be one before I retired. What I am looking for, my dear reader, is a wife !!!!!
Any takers ?
Usually I've got an idea of what I want for my birthday, it's fair to say it usually involves jewellery of the silver colour (Tiffany is the drug of choice)and I am partial to a new handbag (Prada, please) but I've no particular covet this year but feel free to surprise me.
What I would really really like is
My house to be properly cleaned from top to bottom (windows, cupboards, under the beds, oh horror of horrors...the oven !!)
My ongoing Rarpa file to be done and sent back (very boring paperwork file that will take me 10 hours to do as I have ignored it for the whole year instead of doing it as I went along)
My tax return to be filled in and dealt with, I have to fill in a self assessment, a foreign and an employed section and the calculations on how many nights I personally have spent in the villa makes me need a big drink.
My divorce to be filed
My pile of clothes that are awaiting going to the dry cleaners, being hemmed, having buttons sewn back on etc etc being dealt with
The inevitable back to school shopping hell done for me
I would like my neck kissed thoroughly and then all the way down my spine
I would like breakfast in bed
After reading this back, I now realise that what I would like for my birthday is someone to help me do all the things in my life I can't be arsed to do for myself. I know what they're called, in fact I used to be one before I retired. What I am looking for, my dear reader, is a wife !!!!!
Any takers ?
Friday, 8 August 2008
Well, that's me told, again
The Beautiful Son was extremely bored yesterday. Mates away on holiday, had done his alloted time span on runescape, had had his 2 meals and 3 snacks and an afters and it was still only half past 1.
" Miss Marmee ( this is his name for me this week, last week it was Angus, so I'm quite pleased at the upgrade), will you do something with me ?"
I have a whole house to clean, a pile of ironing that would frighten the French (my mum always said that, why, and why am I now saying it?) and I still haven't done my end of course paperwork that was due in on July 10th but yet I still spend hours every day on blogger, procrastination thy name is Gwen. So fair to say, I'm not tremendously enthusiastic about "doing something" with TBS as I am a lazy bag and suffering from a huge nasty dose of "can't be arsedness". But I am a Mummy and that is why I took him to see The Dark Knight on Wednesday, because as always, their needs are met before mine.
TBS decides we should play chess. I am very bad at chess, I always have to be kept in the game as I forget which bits move sideyways and how many squares I can go. At this house we have Simpsons chess but at our holiday house we have regular and I get my Marge and Homers mixed up with knights and castles. So in effect, TBS ends up playing himself at chess. He keeps me in the game by telling me where to move etc. After a fairly boring 45 minutes of this he remarked in a very casual manner " Jeez, it's not for the faint hearted this !"
Again, that's me told.
" Miss Marmee ( this is his name for me this week, last week it was Angus, so I'm quite pleased at the upgrade), will you do something with me ?"
I have a whole house to clean, a pile of ironing that would frighten the French (my mum always said that, why, and why am I now saying it?) and I still haven't done my end of course paperwork that was due in on July 10th but yet I still spend hours every day on blogger, procrastination thy name is Gwen. So fair to say, I'm not tremendously enthusiastic about "doing something" with TBS as I am a lazy bag and suffering from a huge nasty dose of "can't be arsedness". But I am a Mummy and that is why I took him to see The Dark Knight on Wednesday, because as always, their needs are met before mine.
TBS decides we should play chess. I am very bad at chess, I always have to be kept in the game as I forget which bits move sideyways and how many squares I can go. At this house we have Simpsons chess but at our holiday house we have regular and I get my Marge and Homers mixed up with knights and castles. So in effect, TBS ends up playing himself at chess. He keeps me in the game by telling me where to move etc. After a fairly boring 45 minutes of this he remarked in a very casual manner " Jeez, it's not for the faint hearted this !"
Again, that's me told.
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Romantic Gestures
In Starbucks yesterday the nice wee man who made my drink put a heart into the foam. Aawh, the nice.
Last night my email bicker reached entente cordiale with a spot of late night texting. I didn't even complain that he'd woken me up. I was made nice to by his affirming that despite the grumpfest there is still no one else he'd rather take to see Glasvegas. So a nice normal Pollyanna would have returned the sentiment but me, oh no, I have to have the last word (Ok, I fess up, that is where Beautiful Baby Daughter gets it from) and I reply that to be fair I had good reason to be grumpy.
I then receive a text saying and I quote "it's not just a band, not just a gig and not just a ticket, it's a fecking ROMANTIC GESTURE ! So there x "
Well, that's me told.
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
Doubled in Value
I haven't mentioned my running for a while but I am running fairly well at the moment. Back in May I went to a hen night and I met my friend's running partner, a nice man who has now become my partner, in preparation for the marathon I hope to run.
What he gets out of this arrangement I don't know as I hold him back, whine, procratinate and behave like a teenager. He does all the work, reads running books, sets routes and does spreadsheet things, he even sometimes brings me homemade Bailey's cheesecake as it's my favourite, he is truly a sweet, sweet man. He is extremely polite and has the poshest voice ever and he calls me "Dahling" and it sounds like that, I completely take the mickey out of him for being so English and he is beginning now to overcome his natural gentlemanly traits, his shyness and reserve and is trying to banter back with me.
So how do I repay this lovely, lovely man for all his hard work. Easy, on my trip back to The Mother Country I buy a car bumper sticker of the Saltire. I drive to his house and put it on the back of his Mini. His little pet peeve is people putting stickers on their car. I am hysterical at the thought of him driving around and not knowing it's there, a double whammy, the sticker and the fact he's so ultra English. Of course, sad article that I am, I photograph it and blog it. My problem is I think I am really funny.
He found it today ! He's told me that revenge is a dish best served cold, I wonder if tomorrow I'll wake up and find a St George's Cross painted on the front of my house ?
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Pollyanna says sorry
I am called Pollyanna by the person I am currently arguing with, it usually describes me fairly well, however the person I'm arguing with may beg to differ.
This is my penance for being so incredibly bad tempered. I will own up very publicly to being not always nice. I can present myself any which way on this blog and I should let people know that I am and have been a total bitch to you, so I'm sorry
I was bought a ticket to see Glasvegas and instead of making nice, I continued in a spot of low level bickering which frankly is stupid in a woman my age.Not even face to face bickering, not even bickering on the phone, oh no, your auntie has been on a nasty email type bicker, I am so unbelievably teenagerish and not in a good way. This ticket was bought for me as a way of someone making nice to me over a misunderstanding which has been festering and I threw my rattle out of the pram.
There was a very nasty email I sent in which I think the worst bit was
I'm tired, I'm grumpy and I just can't be arsed, it just seems too much like hard work.
Then the reply comes
I could sell it but you are right, there honestly is no one else I'd rather see them with and I was so pleased to spot the gig early and get the tickets. I thought that would mean a lot to you. And its very cool to go and see new bands at our age.
When I got your email last night I thought of an Arctic Monkeys song and here are the lyrics.
Well now then Mardy Bum
I've seen your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun
And it goes off
Oh there's a very pleasant side to you
A side I much prefer
It's one that laughs and jokes around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on
Well now then Mardy Bum
Oh I'm in trouble again, aren't I
I thought as much try haredr
Cause you turned over there
Pulling that silent disappointment face
The one that I can't bear
Can't we, laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on
And yeah I'm sorry I was late
well I missed the train
And then the traffic was a state
And I can't be arsed to carry on in this debate
That reoccurs, oh when you say I don't care
but of course I do, yeah I clearly do!
So laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Still, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on
I particularly like the "can't be arsed" line because I've heard that somewhere before.
Then, as if by magic, between 17.42 and 21.14 yesterday Pollyanna returned. Thank God because I really like her. Who the hell was that scary other woman who took over your yahoo account ?
We can't all be open books but we can all make an effort to try harder.
And I loved the pic, thanks. So I might even call your number tomorrow if you promise to put Pollyanna on.
x
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Just another Saturday
I got the underground into Glasgow city centre to meet the Edge. I was the only one in the carriage. It was half past 2 in the afternoon and there on the seat in front of me was an empty bottle of Buckfast. How bad does your Saturday morning need to be to deserve a whole bottle of Buckfast ?
Anyway, I meets the Edge and we went to Starbucks, of course, I completely ripped him for his 4 shot extra hot Caramel Macciato, but being a lady I did refrain from commenting on his fully Pringled up attire, and we spent hours there just musing on our lives and people watching.
Who'd have thought you could have so much fun sober, with all your clothes on and without a funny shaped stick in your hand ?
Friday, 1 August 2008
Musings from my Mammies
Well, I've crossed the border once again and am at home, at my mammies in The Mother Country.
All's well here, I've been visiting family and eating my body weight in Empire Biscuits, which, truth be told, I'm getting a wee bit sick of now.
The Beautiful Mother aka my mammie continues to try and over please at every turn. She waits on us hand and foot and has a fridge and cupboards full of all kinds of goodies. If she offers you something and you accept, she then tries to give you something else as well, a bit like " Would you like a biscuit with your coffee ?", "You would, lovely, well, could you go a wee Danish pastry with it as well ?" she offered me chips with my soup yesterday, I wondered if she was going to float them in my bowl ! If you enjoy something she immediately offers to make it again for you, " Oh I'm glad you enjoyed that darling, would you like another one ?" it's just as well I don't live here, I'd be twice the size.
My gadget mad dad continues to be gadget mad, he has bought another computer and to keep his Ipod Nano company, he had bought an Ipod touch, as you do !
I was shopping today in Buchanan Galleries with Eldest Beautiful Daughter and I met a fellow blogger for the first time, the lovely Laura, fellow Sharleen aficionado, it was brilliant to see you Laura, I was hoping you'd be at work and I hope the next time, we'll go for a wee refreshment to match our blether. I now know what you mean about John Lewis customers though. Just after that EBD and I were looking at clothes when this nice lady started chatting with us, this happens a lot in Glasgow, never where I now live in middle England, but at home people just chat with you. This was a nice lady and we chatted for a few minutes and she said " can I ask you something?" , " Sure" says us, " Do you know that Jesus loves you ?" says the wee lady, she them proceeds to tell us about Jesus before giving us a hug and a kiss each and sends us on our way.
I just love this kind of randomness, never happens anywhere else, just at home.
We then go into Boots and are approached by another lady who says " Excuse me, can I ask you something? " well, me and EBD are on the floor laughing and we fair confused the woman who wanted our opinion on what sunglasses suited her face best, so we spent 10 minutes helping her choose her sunglasses and off she went all happy. God I love this country.
Eldest Beautiful Daughter has gone off to Edinburgh to stay her friend and I'm off to eat at least 42 different offerings from my mammie.
It's soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo great to be home, even if it hasn't stopped feckin raining.
ps I can't take the credit for this bit of graffiti or even the photo. IT God assures me he drove (in his BMW) to a really dodgy area, risking life and limb to capture this for me. He also says he was asked by a passing policeman if everything was ok !
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