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Before she went off to school, The Girl made another one of those comments that makes me laugh hysterically but unable to show it, and just love her even more.

They have a non-uniform day today, and are paying 50p for the privilege, which will go to DEC for Haiti.

So, she got dressed this morning, and then came into me and said “OK, so, do you think I look OK?  I think I was right to put this outfit together – I used my girlie intuition and sense of style.”

Oh how I laughed (on the inside).

And then she definitely proved that she’s my daughter, she said “I had a look in my moneybox, and I don’t have 50p, so I thought I’d give £1 instead, as it IS for the poor earthquake victims isn’t it – and that’s charity.”

I gave her a big kiss on the head and said she looked great, and that she IS great and I love her.  🙂


immortality – it’s not forever

The Man is a devil when he's hungover

I love my family, I really do – I love the way that even when we’re watching a serious documentary, it all turns into serious discussion about absolute shite.

For example, the occurence of the following conversation just now:

Me:  They called the smog in London ‘a right pea-souper’ because it was yellow and like breathing liquid

The Girl:  Ewww, that’s gross.  I wouldn’t have wanted to do that, it would kill you.

Me:  The average life expectancy for men was 29 years old (I’m not always that accurate, the programme had just said!)

G:  That’s REALLY young.

The Man:  You’d only have 19 years left though – and without us to feed you.  You’d have to go and sweep chimneys.

G:  At least I’m skinny enough to get up there.

TV:  “in the 1800s, 57% of children born in London died before the age of 5”

G:  Oh my gosh!!!  (yes, she really does say that) that means over HALF my class would have died!  But then most of them weren’t born in London so does that count?  I don’t want to die!

Me: You’re not living in the 1800s, you’re not going to die.

G:  I’m never going to die?

Man:  Everyone dies.  except me, I’m immortal. (His usual argument)

G:  When are you going to give that up?  You’re NOT immortal.  You’re going to die the same as everyone else!

Man:  How do you know?  Have I died yet?

G:  No, not yet, but you’re still young.

Man:  Thank you

G:  Well, ish.

And now we’re introducing her to Little Shop Of Horrors 🙂


Far harder to give than 20p!

I am generally a pretty happy person.  I’m happy with my life, and as long as I feel good about getting up and going into work every day, and can eat, drink and have the occasional good time (ooer!) I’m definitely content.

However, every now and then I get those thoughts “Maybe one day I should get around to…”  or “I wonder whether I should…”

These are aspects of my personality/being that I generally accept as traits that make me ‘Me’, but just occasionally I wonder whether I should some time and effort into changing them.  Obviously in the past thirty-*ahem* years I haven’t been moved to, but I’m thinking that in an attempt to face those ghosts of ideas it would help me to get them down and out of my head!  So here goes (I’ve actually been working on this post in draft for days!).

I love a good crisis

This is just my own crises, I love it when other people have a crisis too.  I love problem-solving and I love psychology, and it gives me a chance to exercise both.  I always feel really energised at times of great trauma.  I can deal with huge problems – it’s the little ones I flap about.

I have no sense of adventure

I don’t feel the need to travel.  In fact, thinking about going ‘on holiday’ often fills me with an enormous sense of trepidation.  I spend the day before I go abroad in tears generally as the thought of being away upsets me.  This could have its roots in all sorts of past issues (eg how I never felt ‘at home’ during my childhood or first marriage) or could be my whole social phobia.  However, I always have a great time on holiday – it’s just the best part is that feeling when I’m on the home stretch, returning to London.

I hold a grudge

Oh I am a complete bugger for this.  It takes a LOT to get to me, my bullshit threshold is quite high (although has reduced over the years of course) but once you’ve disappointed me, upset me or pissed me off it would take a HELL of a lot of work for me to get over it.

I’m fat

Of course, a lot of this is because I have no metabolism, and I forget to take my pills (literally) half of the time, but it’s also because I love food.  All sorts of food.  and if something tastes good, I’ll want to eat more of it!  It’s also a bit because of the next issue.

I’m lazy

As I mentioned before, I love my home, I feel so…’at home’ I guess, and this often makes me loathe to be anywhere else!  I can quite happily stay indoors for a whole weekend.  If I lived alone, I’d probably feel different – when I was single I used to go out at least 4 times a week, even though my two best friends lived with me and in the next road!  Maybe I’m making up for years of excess!

I don’t believe in ‘forever’ / I always feel like running

The Man reckons I’m not a commitophobe, which I don’t agree with – however I don’t believe that we can be sure that any relationship (romantic or otherwise) will last forever, so I am loathe to make promises I can’t keep.  This is something I’ve accepted in myself since I split with husband #2.  And I feel happier for it.  Although I don’t think The Man feels the same way, LOL.  Unfortunately, when things aren’t going right, my first instinct is always to run away (probably a reason behind two divorces) and having a child makes this impossible, scaring me beyond belief!

I can be scathing about things I don’t agree with / I can’t be wrong

Oh I can be a bitch.  “Why the FUCK would you want to live in Milton Keynes?  Where’s the character?”  I’ve often said this to my friend who does.  “X Factor?  You really watch that shit karaoke show full of talentless nobodies?”.  “Don’t talk to me about bloody Christmas, commercial fucking nonsense!  No, don’t send me a bloody card!”.  Yes, well. If I don’t like it, it must be wrong, and I will argue it to the death!  Also, along the same lines, I find it hard to say I was wrong about something, and lose face!  not so much with friends, or at work, but definitely with The Man, it’s like admitting that the other one is better somehow – but as we both do it, is it that bad?  😉

I don’t confide easily / I’ll laugh everything off

I’ve mentioned before, the fact that I have ‘circles of friendship‘ and hardly anyone ever gets through to my inner circle.  I don’t like burdening people with my problems, I will hold them close to me and try to work them out by myself.  I didn’t even tell The Man when I thought the flat might get repossessed about 14 months ago as I didn’t want to upset him, and I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t cope.  I only told him the day I got a letter detailing the repossession timeline!  in my head, my problems are my own and noone else should have to deal with them.  If anyone does ask me things, I’ll generally laugh it off.

I’m painfully shy

Not with people I know obviously, but as mentioned before, it’s with new people.  I get scared witless talking to them, especially in a group.  A swift couple of vodkas usually solves it, but I shouldn’t really have to rely on Mr Smirnoff and his friends.  The Man amazes me, he will talk to anyone anywhere, but then hardly say a word in a group of close friends!

I have no qualifications / talents and have learned nothing new for years

I can’t ‘do’ anything!  I don’t play a musical instrument, speak another language (apart from schoolgirl French and a little sign language) and about the only thing I feel I have a natural talent for is cooking and writing, which aren’t exactly unique – and I’m not outstanding at either of them.  This mainly links in to me being lazy, and just wanting to have fun.  I also think I’m pretty good at human psychology, but in the way that I can predict how someone will act in a given situation, or how they will act when faced with something.  I always spend parties curled up on a  sofa or bed with someone I’ve met that night, sorting out their love-life etc, and getting really into their deep-set emotional issues.  I guess that may be a talent, but it’s nothing discernible really.

So – that’s me.  Not very pretty really when it’s all listed out like that, LOL…and I’m sure there’s other stuff that I haven’t put down.

However, as I mentioned, this is stuff that I know about myself, and have accepted about me – and I guess the people around me must have as well.  So all is not lost.

back to life, back to reality

Jazzy B was gutted that he'd forgotten his briefcase for his Alistair Darling impression

The last few weeks have been really odd.  Not going into the office, not getting much work at all, The Girl not around, The Girl  not at school when she came back, and then all of us stuck indoors cos of the snow.  Add on to that seeing family, catching up with friends, presents, theatre, me and The Man getting colds, the whole Christmas and New Year thing and the lack of decent TV it’s been a very strange time.

So I’m actually really looking forward to going back into work tomorrow.  I DO so like a bit of routine.  Not TOO much routine, but enough to make me feel comfortable.  I miss having a decent amount of work to really get my teeth into.  This year is going to be a busy one and I’m looking forward to it!

The Girl is SO happy that she’ll be able to go to school tomorrow.  She’s only had half a day back, and there were only 7 of her class in (lazy buggers!).  The Girl loves school.  I have forced that into her by making her life such a misery at home that she’s just ecstatic to be away from me!  😀

I’ve actually got a busy week this week, not only have I got to get used to doing a full day’s work every day for a whole week (eek!!  the trauma!!) but I’ve also got my work’s christmas do (we decided to have it late – cheaper, so we can aford more booze!) AND I’ve decided to go to the London blog meet up that chopandcut suggested to me.  This is the first step in my determined effort to be more sociable this year that I mentioned last week.   I am dead dead nervous, and probably wont speak to anyone but hell, it’s a start!!

it felt like christmas morning

I just couldn't stop hugging her

Well, my baby came back from 2 weeks in Mauritius with her dad yesterday.  She landed last night, and was meant to come back to me today, but apparently when they landed, she made such a face that he had to bring her back to me late last night as she wanted to be at home straight away.

We were over the moon!  When I opened the door she just ran into my arms and hugged me so tight!  I almost cried.  i am such a bloody wuss.  Then I was taking her boots off, putting her slippers on her, making her a cup of tea and generally fussing around her.  She opened all her ‘home-coming’ pressies, which all seemed to hit the spot.  i certainly know my baby 🙂

Anyway, she didn’t go to sleep til about 11pm, which is 2 hours later than normal, and on her bodyclock it would’ve been 3am!

So – this morning, knowing that I have her back for good, I was way too excited.  I couldn’t sleep.  i woke up at 5am and was just bouncing about (tiredly but excitedly) waiting for her.  Luckily, with her rubbish bodyclock, she woke up at 6.04 (as she told me) and so we snuggled up on the sofa, under a duvet watching crap TV.  we watched Fluke, just cos it happened to be on, and then we’ve watche dthe first 2 Back To The Futures.   All i can say is that she liked Fluke.  She has no bloody taste.

the only 80s film that she’s liked so far is Gremlins!!

I’ve got my baby back, I couldn’t be happier.

happy new year to me

I had a nice surprise yesterday.

I have been sulking for over two weeks now, as my daughter’s dad took her on holiday all over Christmas and New Year.  It was a fantastic opportunity for her, but was a massivelu upsettuing time for me.  What’s the point of Christmas when you haven’t got your baby around?  I have never really liked Christmas, but I’ve loved her excitement – and this year I didn’t even have that.  Also, he hasn’t had her for longer than 2 nights at a time for the last year or two, so it was a wrench to have her taken away from me anyway.

Anyway – so my nice surprise.  I got an email telling me that she would be home very soon, and not to worry that she’s had such a fantastic time with her dad, that it doesn’t mean anything – just that she’s had a good holiday.  Not to feel bad that we can’t afford to take her away on posh holidays as we are the ones that are there every day doing all the important things.  Very sweet, yes, but the email was actually from me.

Back at the end of August, I found this site called FutureMe.Org which enables you to write an email and choose a date that you want it to be sent on.  At the time, I’d only just agreed that she could go away, and I was having major hassles with her dad over something else – and it was making me feel very insecure about everything with her, so, knowing that she’d be back just after New Year, I decided to send myself an email to arrive on New Year’s Day just giving myself a bit of a pep talk.

I told a couple of my friends abotu the site, and they thought it was stupid…but I thought it was a great idea.  It’s one I’m definitely going to bear in mind for future pre-planned traumas, LOL.

And it did the job – yesterday, when I got the email from my past self, I thought “Yes! That’s right! ‘m a bloody great mum and she loves me loads.  That’s all that matters.”  And it’s true 🙂

farewell to the noughties!

Yes - people will be making my 2010

So – it’s farewell to the noughties (obviously sung to the tune of Farewell to the Fairground by White Lies who I saw at Brixton a few weeks ago).

I love New Year’s Eve/Day.  I always have.  It means more to me than Christmas that I have never really been that keen on.  I love the idea of a shiny new year – one that can be full of anything.  I love the fact that everything that happened in the last 12 months is now definitely behind me and can be classified as ‘last year’.  New Year’s Eve is like a final full stop at the end of a chapter that you have now finished editing.  that probably makes no sense, but it always fills me with a little frisson of excitement to be on a new page of life.

2009 had some very hard parts for me, but I think it will probably go down as the year that me, my other half and my daughter really got so much closer.  That’s something I really want to build on in 2010.

Last night was bloody marvellous – our local must be one of the few pubs in London that doesn’t charge entry on New Year’s Eve, and seeing as it takes us less than a minute to get from our front door to theirs, it’s always a favourite haunt of ours.  So, our mate came round first and we had a few swifties and went over there about 9ish, by which time most of the regulars were there anyway, so we were in brilliant company.

There was a live swing band there who weren’t too bad either.  And my friend also came down that I wrote about yesterday – the one where i’m trying to put an elastoplast over our slightly broken relationship.  So that was nice.  the disco went on til about 3 so I had a good boogie and came home feeling happy, full of love, laughter, vodka and the excitement of a new decade.

Although what the hell IS this decade?  It can’t be the teenies as 10, 11 & 12 are ‘teens’ – they’re ‘tweens’.  Do we call it the tens?  It’s just very confusing, and I don’t like unanswered questions!

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