Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Meme O Meme

1) My mother once: took me for a picnic in the Queen’s Park Savannah.
2) Never in my life: have I had a fireman. My life is not complete.
3) When I was five: I had a kitten who I loved to bits. She used to share my morning cereal.
4) High school was/is: something I would like to forget.
5) I will never forget: how blessed I am.
6) I once met: Martin Shaw and I didn't know who he was.

7) There's this person I know who: lives life to the fullest, she does not know the meaning of NO, will try anything once. I want to be like her.
8) Once, at a bar: I staggered in after Christmas shopping, intending to have a quick medicinal half of cider, and stayed chatting to the bar staff until closing time.
9) By noon I'm usually: awake, possibly dressed.
10) Last night I: took to my bed by half seven. I’d overdone it. Again.
11) If only I had: a natural sense of style.
12) Next time I go to church/temple: will be for someone’s wedding or funeral.
13) Terri Schiavo: is who exactly?
14) I like: smoking, red wine, dark chocolate, blogging, men with a sense of humour and shopping.

15) When I turn my head left, I see: my garden below.
16) When I turn my head right, I see: my upstairs bathroom at the end of the landing (it sounds much longer than it really is).
17) You know I'm lying when: I say I’m normal.

18) In junior school: my nick-name was Spaghetti – cause I was white and skinny.
19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare: I would aspire to be Titania from MidSummer Night’s Dream, but would really be Portia from Merchant of Venice.
20) By this time next year I: will hopefully have painted the inside of my bedroom.

21) A better name for me would be: Awkward.
22) I have a hard time understanding: why human beings take such pleasure in being cruel to each other.
23) If I ever go back to school, I'll: be a teenager again, living through the horror that is reincarnation.
24) You know I like you if: I touch you. I’m tactile.
25) If I won an award, the first person I'd thank would be: Gee!
26) I hope that: I can always afford good coffee.
27) Take my advice: life is much too short for playing games.
28) My ideal breakfast is: coffee.
29) A song I love but do not have is: ‘I want to know what love is’
30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest: you bring your bodyguards. Trinidad is falling into anarchy.

31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips and track stars: one of my favourite spring flowers, make a person far more interesting than their virtues, necessary and whatever.
32) Why won't anyone: call?
33) If you spend the night at my house: I have a comfortable sofa bed, shower and good coffee.
34) I'd stop my wedding: if he turned up in a baby pink tux and crocs.
35) The world could do without: mosquitos. Truly.
36) I'd rather lick the belly of a roach than: go line-dancing
37) My favourite thing is: my first cup of coffee.
38) Paper clips are more useful than: politicians (all of them)
39) And by the way: I’m doing better than ever.
40) The last time I was (really) drunk: was about 6 months ago. Yet again, I hurtled myself at someone. Fortunately, he’s a friend who didn’t take it amiss.
41) My grandmother always: said ‘those who can’t hear, must feel’. I fit into the latter category. I have to find out for myself. The hard way.

Cause I like spreading the joy I nominate: Scarlet-Blue, Hottie, Dave, Kaz, and Just Curious. Let me know if you decide to tackle the meme anyway.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

New Look

I spent last night on-line, looking at shoes and boots and clothes for work. I'm not a huge fan of on-line shopping, I much prefer to feel my wares before I buy. Satisfied that I had some good stuff to look at, I went to bed.

This morning got off to a spectacularly bad start.

The cat had been sick everywhere in the kitchen during the night. Though to give her due, she did try to get out the cat flap, but I'd locked it. While we were watching the idiot box last night, some stripey feline came in and tried to help itself to her dinner. What is it with cats? The look the strange cat gave me, was filled with such disdain as I chased its arse out of my territory - how dare I? How rude of me. Humpf.

After I cleared it all up, disaster struck. My coffee machine died. All my poking, prodding, stroking and coaxing could not revive it. I had to make do with instant. Bleugh.

My needs in the morning are few. I need one cup of decent coffee to get me going. It's really not too much to ask, is it? But no, this morning it was not to be. I seriously considered going back to bed and ignoring the rest of today.

During the first smoke of the day, I thought 'fuck it'. I had a shower, put on some slap and headed into the city. Marks and Spencers was an exercise in frustration. Everything that I liked and wanted was not available in my size. This ranged from jeans, cardigans, boots and even bloody tights! Grrr... Despite their best efforts, I was able to find some fun things, even if they weren't on my list. I then trooped over the Clarks. There were some funky boots I wanted to try on. I'm glad I did. They look brilliant and were one of the most dodgy footwear I've ever tried on. They were 'top heavy' which made me rock as I walked. I'm so glad I did not part with good cash for them over the internet. I'd have been very cross.

I ended up in Shuh. So many yummy shoes. I eventually bought the black brogues. Now, to highlight what a fashion nightmare I am, I wanted them also in brown. I find something I like and then I buy it in all the colours that it comes in. This operates across the board, from footwear to clothes. You'll be so surprised to learn that they didn't have any in my size. Off I stomped to House of Fraser, there a lovely assistant got me the brown brogues I wanted and then I saw them: mid-brown, calf-length, sheep-skin lined, high-heeled Timberland style, (but not so chunky) Carvela boots, and they are so comfy. It was love at first sight.

It might not have been a good start to the day, but I sure am going to finish it in style.

Friday, September 18, 2009

In Celebration of The Cat

I've been thinking about writing this post for about 3 weeks now: an Ode to The Cat. Today, I popped by Vet Nurse, who has had to say goodbye to her companion Wibble. Please drop in and give her extra hugs. I've never cuddled up to Wibs, but I've followed her antics through Vet Nurse's blog and this morning my heart is heavy with her loss.

Solitaire is a domestic short-haired cat. A posh term for a moggie. She's supposed to be Boy's cat. She loves her Boy, when he's not around for a weekend and he comes home, she's thrilled to see him. If he sits at a table, she'll come up to him and head butt him until he worships her.

Having said that, she sleeps with me. I think she definitely approves of my new bed. It's king size, rather than a 3/4 bed. Which means she can stretch out all the way, and I still have to turn over carefully, so as not to disturb her. I have a de-lint brush, with which to remove the several tonnes of black cat hair from the duvet every other day. All bedding I buy has to be with her in mind. She doesn't like satin-esk bedding and will pluck it to buggery until I change it. I do have a proper grooming brush to try and de-fluff her, but I put it in a safe place and can't find the bugger now. Why I tidy up, I'll never know.

When I come home, I'll call for her and she comes bounding down the stairs saying hello. She doesn't meow a lot for a cat, she chirrups; we have long conversations sometimes. She doesn't like being picked up, but she'll come sit next to me if I'm in one place long enough, curl up and snooze.

The Cat is a fair weather feline. The new abode has been very much to her liking. She's turned into a territorial thing, chasing off other cats with a fierce yowl, puffing herself up to twice her size. Ridiculous really. If they stopped and looked her in the eye, they'd have seen she's all bark. Not a scrapper at all. In the summer, I'd call for her when I've finished rolling a smoke and she'd come out into the sunshine with me. Hiding under a lilac when she got too hot and she'd stay out in the garden all day. She likes the cat-flap which we now keep open all the time. She gets up a couple of times in the night, but when I wake up in the morning, there she is all warm and snug at the bottom of the bed.

The week before my op was a hard one. I was saying goodbye to my fertility and my dreams of a happy family. I was outside smoking, and she sat with me, patting my leg, so I'd stroke her some more. I wondered why she was suddenly clingy and then I realised it was me. She could see I was grieving and this was her way of comforting me. Bless her.

She's eleven years old this September and I'm pleased that we have a few more happy years ahead of us. Today after reading of Vet Nurse's sad news I picked her up, protesting and gave her a big cuddle.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Please Adjust My Set

I'm currently spending more time in front of the idiot box than normal (which is no tv at all). As my brain slowly atrophies and I watch yet another episode of Ghost Whisperer and Star Trek: various, I realise it's the adverts which drive me nuts. They are on constant loops and it's the same adverts for every episode of whatever I'm watching, whatever the time of day. Mostly, I can tune out the car insurance, post-your-gold-for-cash, cereals and don't do drugs and drive (drugs have an involuntary effect on the eyes, which you can't control; really), but there are three ads that make me want to commit violence.

Always Ultra
Features a winged pad with pin-balls bouncing off the various layers. I find it disturbing for several reasons including: my menstrual blood has never, ever resembled pin-balls. And quite frankly, I would seek immediate medical help if it ever started bouncing around like that. The violence comes from the strap line 'Have a Happy Period'. Really?! After spending the week before with gritted teeth, sore breasts and bloated stomach, I then spend the following week curled up in a ball, swallowing paracetemol and ibuprofen like they're tic tacks, clutching a hot water bottle. Have a happy period? Come closer love, my what a big tyre iron I have here, just for you.

Chocolate Rice Krispie Squares
After years of being inflicted with Malibu adverts featureing a Barbadian voice over, showing the supposed 'relaxed' Caribbean way of life, I'm then assaulted by an animated chocolate island with pale rice krispies lying in hammocks and a chocolate volcano eruption. This is wrong on soo many levels, least of which is the voice-over. Which Caribbean island is that supposed to hail from? I'm from there and while I know dialects change over time, that is one of the worst accents I have ever heard made up. Also, not so long ago St Lucia suffered a proper volcano eruption. That was no laughing matter. People lost their lives and homes through that natural disaster. Should you think I'm being overly sensitive about it, how would the ad have gone down had it been a chocolate tsunami?

Pampers Golden Sleep
Very cute baby gets introduced to an older woman, by doting mum. Goes to sleep for the night, sleeps 12 hours, wakes up the next morning and recognises the neighbour. The voice-over informs parents that babies need 'golden sleep' to develop properly. So if they chose Pampers their baby is going to have the IQ of Einstein. Really? I don't think so. I do think parents of young babies have a hard enough time as it is and some daft ad, guilt tripping them isn't helping.

Yes, I might have remembered the adverts which will no doubt have some agency rubbing their hands together. But you know what? It is with considerable glee that I boycott the first two products (I'm not likely to need the third any time soon). The brand may have won, but the product sales have lost.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Population Control

I was neutered Monday morning, hence this being a slow blog week.

Apparently, I should have experienced mild abdominal discomfort easily assuaged with paracetmol and ibuprofen. The first 24 hours I should have been uncomfortable, but back to normal by Day 5.

Yeah right.

Let's summarise my experience with 'OW!' and leave it at that.

I'm not sorry I had the op and I'm looking forward to test driving my newly sterilised bits....anon. Very anon.

In the meantime, I am taking it slow watching trashy television (of which there is a great deal) and reading trashy books (of which I have many).

May I just say the Great Ursus and his lovely, are fabulous people? I will be having words with the Powers that Be to ensure that there will be stars shining in the Heavens just for them.

Thursday, September 03, 2009

Adventures with Prince Charming

Last night, or rather this morning, I woke up with a bit of a start. One of the things sleeping on my own regularly has meant, is I am a light sleeper. I generally sleep well. If I don't, I become Bitch Queen from Hell. I need my sleep. I think part of my sleeping light also was set when I became a mum and that's never properly re-set, even after Boy slept well through the night. Even when I was married, or had a lover who stayed regularly, I was the one who woke up and went to investigate.

So I was awake wondering why I was awake and then I heard a noise. It was a bit like the noise you hear when you move a bit of furniture about and it has a squeaky castor. I heard it again. I checked the bottom of the bed. No Cat. I poked my head through Boy's door and he was pretty much dead to the world. There it was again. An unhappy sound.

I trooped downstairs, stark bollock naked and there was the Cat.

She'd brought me a present. Bless her. Prince Charming.

He sat looking very displeased at being in my hall.

I squatted down next to him, while he pretended to be a leaf. He was about the size of my palm and I didn't particularly fancy picking him up. I unlocked and opened the front door. He then changed tack and pretended to be a stone when I gave him a nudge. I tried picking him up and he made that squeaky castor noise. I nudged his cute behind, and out he hopped squeaking, into the night.

The Cat was most put out. Here she was trying to sort out my love-life; all I had to do was give him a kiss and hey presto, Prince Charming. And what did I do, shove him out the door. Talk about ungrateful. What she failed to realise is I value my sleep more than I do my love-life.

Waiting for Paint to Dry

Yesterday evening, I thought I'd finished the triptych. I kicked back, drank a glass of raspberry beer and contemplated my work. As I co...