reasons to be cheerful – part 1

I have had a very stressful morning – I had a big row with The Girl, and it started my day off on completely the wrong footing.  I ended up leaving the house angry, upset and on the verge of tears.

So, with a few deep breaths and what I hope is my usual default ‘look-on-the-bright-side’ attitude, I have decided that by the end of the week, I am going to blog 10 things that make me happy, so that I can look back over them and make myself smile.

So – this is my first reason to be cheerful.

One of my five a day, apparently!

This has made me happy because it is yummy, and yet it states quite categorically that it is one of my five a day.  Yes, two slices of scrummy fruit loaf counts as a portion of fruit.  No matter how much butter I smear on it, I am being healthy.


it’s just…a little crush (well, it was)

I used to like having an office crush 🙂

This week has been a bit of an odd one for me.  Actually, the last 3-4 weeks have been a little odd for me, and I have got loads of things that I keep meaning to post, but haven’t had a chance to – that’s part of what’s made everything a bit odd!

Anyway, on Thursday, my boss took me into the meeting room, sat me down and told me that we had a new member of staff starting on Monday.  This is good news, because not only are they working with me on my project, which means they see it as an area of investment, I used to work with him for around 5 years which ended about 11 years ago.

He is a laugh.  He’s a bit of a wide boy, which is great for his area of expertise.  He’s intelligent, sociable, fun, a total pisshead, gets the job done, gossips like a fishwife and Oh My God did I used to have a massive crush on him!!

It’s not bad  really – in 22 years of working (yes, really), I have only ever had 4 office crushes that I can think of.  And I married one of those!

With this guy, I have a lot of fond memories of a really really fun time – I even remember smoking a joint with him, lying on a bed in a hotel room in Newquay.  Ahhhh….good times.

So, I wasn’t even in the office on Monday as I’d taken it off to recover from being at Lovebox Fri-Sun…but first thing Tuesday morning, there we were, giggling at each other because it all seems so silly that we’re working together again.

I’m very happy – the past couple of days have lifted my already fantastic work life.  The Man even met him on Tuesday as he was in on in a consultancy capacity.  Life is good.  I feel young again 😀

And then I remember that I have a daughter who finishes primary school tomorrow for good.  I’m a lot older than I feel!

oh how do i love thee?

It's just so PRETTY!!!

Let me count the ways.

No!! I can’t!!  There are just far too many.

On Thursday I tweeted the lovely people @VodafoneUK, had a call back from them (their Web Relations team really are brilliant – and very friendly) and we worked out a great tariff for me, and I ordered a beautiful Sony Ericsson Xperia X10.  Unfortunately, being a Bank Holiday, I had to wait slightly longer.  Which was today.

And fair play to Vodafone, they said it would be delivered between 8am – 6pm, but that I’d be given an hour slot on the day – and at 7.30am I received a text telling me it would be between 10.21 – 11.21.

Which it was.  And oh how pretty?  Oh how lovely and wonderful.  It does so much.  I have a lot of friends with iPhones and yet have never been tempted, it was only this one or the HTC Desire that first piqued my interest.

It all just works.  It was all just so easy.  transferring my 221 contacts (yes, really) was so easy.  Setting up Facebook and Twitter and Hotmail was so easy.

I love it.  I love it love it love it.  But I’m sure that I’ll be bored in a month, or have dropped it down the toilet like I did with my last phone!

space…the final frontier?


I have a dream.  Well, I had a dream.  It wasn’t an outrageous dream.  my dreams are never really unachievable, otherwise I’d always feel like the world was dangling something just beyond my reach, and get the feeling that life is unfair (much as the Girl’s dad does – he always feels like life owes him something, and that it should all be handed to him on a plate.)

Anyway – this wasn’t about him, this was about me.  and my silly little dream.

Well, since The Man has been out of work (almost 3 years), I’ve not really had any time at home on my own.  Either he, The Girl or both of them have always been there.  So I feel like I don’t have any space.  We live in a little flat in London, so you can imagine that space isn’t exactly abundant…we’re all hoarders too, which I know we could do something about, but is a personality trait I guess, and almost impossible to shake.

The Girl has her own room that she spends a lot of time in doing her own thing (which lately seems to consist of counting her money in her money box 4 times a day – maybe she thinks we’re stealing from her!), and obviously The Man is here by himself from 9-3 every weekday.  For me, nothing.  And I think that this could be one of the reasons that I’ve stopped reading as much over the past couple of years too.  I can’t read when there’s stuff going on around me.  I’m OK with the radio on, or music, but not the TV or ‘sounds’.  And The Man has the TV on a lot – because, if I turn it off, or if I’m not watching it, even if I have the radio on, he’ll play the XBox.  which annoys the hell out of ma.  i can’t read a story about Georgian Britain’s Worst Husband (Wedlock, that I’m reading now) if there are the sounds of air raids, bombs, and general shouting, shooting and fighting in the form of MW2 full blast to my left!!

So.  I had a dream.  It was a chair.  A winged, chintzy, Queen Anne style chair.  Squeezed into my tiny bedroom, in the bay window which has the best natural light in the whole flat.  So I could shut myself away for a few hours a week, have some me time, read undisturbed with the radio on.  Maybe even start writing again, who knows.  If course, a chintzy winged chair in a bay window also threw up dreams of tea and biscuits and a cat curled up.

So…I have now made this entry from my bay window, in natural light, in a wing-backed chair, whilst listening to 6Music (Cerys is back, and there was just a wonderful live session with a harp that I need to look up), sipping tea, eating the biscuits that I made on Friday, and  have been reading my book in peace.  Even the cat is curled up on the bed in front of me!  The only difference to my dream is that my chair isn’t chintzy…it’s just moss green.  but it’s oh so comfy, and was just £35 from the sally army charity shop at the bottom of my road – and is pristene.  no wear, no tear, no scratches, no stains!

I am so happy.  So, so happy.  Because of a chair.

another one bites the dust…

I would have preferred vodka!

…year that is.

Monday was my birthday, and I ‘celebrated’ it by being ill.  Oh yes, I did the whole snot, cough and ache thing that had been threatening for a few days, but that I thought I had kept at bay.  I think it’s mainly where I’d not been sleeping, and so got a bit run down and couldn’t fight it off any more.

So, as per my last post, my friends took me for dinner on Saturday night which was gorgeous, and then I met up with The Man again in the pub, where I’d left him about 3 1/2 hours beforehand!  I got to see some of our other friends, and then came home.

I had an awful night’s sleep and got up about 5am on Sunday feeling decidedly miserable and runny (ewww!) which lasted all day, so not surprisingly I didn’t do much, except watch TV and annoy The Man, waiting for The Girl to come home from her dad’s.  Then we all watched Survivors that we’d V+’ed (The Girl LOVES it for some reason – although the two of us watched Total Wipeout straight after, at which she collapses into fits of hysterics).

I hardly slept Sunday night as I couldn’t breathe, and got up at 4am…although I had to wait until the other two were up to open all the cards and pressies I’d accumulated!  I spoke to my boss who said “Ewwww” when I coughed over the phone at him, and told me to stay away until I wasn’t coughing.  I then got an email from him a couple of hours later saying “I forgot to say happy birthday, we’ll take you to lunch when you’re feeling better”…how sweet 🙂

I sat on the sofa and watched TV and played online and was swamped with happy birthdays from my mates, which was lovely, and The Man made me a gorgeous dinner, and also a butterscotch birthday cake, which was totally scrummy!  I even had happy birthday sung to me FOUR TIMES, inc from Florida and Australia, which was lovely.

The day passed nicely, but quite unbirthday-like…but I have my big drinks do on Saturday, which a lot of my friends are coming to, so THAT is when it will feel like my birthday 🙂

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 🙂

christmas has finally come

Yvette can see the ghosts so much clearer!

For his main Christmas pressie, I decided last year to get a V+ box installed for The Man.  There is no change to how much I pay each month for Virgin, but the installation fee always put me off.

So, I booked the engineer a couple of days before Christmas, and they were booked in today.  You can imagine how likely we thought it would be that he would actually turn up with the state of the roads etc locally in all this snow and ice!

But yes, he turned up – lovely bloke that he was.  We’ve moved the old standard box into our bedroom (The Girl is VERY jealous!) and now have our nice shiny (and very flash looking) V+ box in the lounge.

I’ve always said that I can’t tell the difference between HD and non-HD TV but i have to admit, looking again, I actually really can, LOL.

The Man is like a kid in a sweet shop – he doesn’t know what to do first.  Of course now, we can do the whole series link thing, stop live TV, and record two programmes while watching a third – so he’s just playing with everything, and I keep hearing little squeals of delight coming from the lounge.

What is it that they say about simple things?

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.

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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