Friday, March 25, 2011

It's That Time of the Year

I've spent what's been the first week of Spring, in bed.

I would like to say that RDJ was shackled there and he's now a ghost of himself (and many other smutty innuendos), but I'd be lying. I've had the strangest bout of The Lurgy ever. My throat felt like I swallowed razor blades for a couple of days, but I felt as if I've been beaten up. My joints and skin ache to the point where I've been downing the painkillers just so I could lie down. Gee came over yesterday to 'look at me', she said I look awful. It's good to have one's ego massaged every now and then. All my weekend's social arrangements have been postponed. I made it out the house today and I'm knackered and sore.

The good thing is I've been able to use the time to decide what I'll grow in the garden over the summer. I have no doubt I'll will find loads and loads of pretties in Nottcutts to bring home and enjoy. Indeed, I feel I'll indulge in another season of unashamed girlie-ness, rose pinks and whites. But I've also been thinking about planting onions, garlic and peppers in between my pretties. I've got a few large pots and containers dotted about, they'd be perfect for potatoes. I've also been thinking about perhaps growing some beans on my fence and maybe a couple of eggplants. I've got two troughs not doing anything, so I'm thinking about carrots.

There's lots I can grow, but the thing is - are we going to eat it? We don't tend to eat salad things and tomatoes only occasionally. But I suppose if it looks like we're not going to get through it, I could always put them outside for people to help themselves.

The really lovely thing about this time of year, is that once again, my puddle aka the pond is a Den of Amphibian Filth and Iniquity. It's absolutely full of spawn (the over-sexed sinners), in fact, I've never seen so much. I can't wait until the tadpoles hatch. When I go out onto the patio, I hear the frogs boasting of their sexual prowess. The copulating couples dive beneath the surface, trying to hide.

Ultimately, this means lots of Prince Charmings for me to kiss. Note to Self: get some lip balm next week.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

World Book Night Part II

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen my first attempt at a blog competition was not a rousing success. Actually, that's totally fine. Because thanks to my A Nony Mouse friend, I now have more books to give away. She spotted my cheeky attempt to spread the word and offered more books for me to pass on to my readers.

Princess (who won by majority votes) will get her copy as is her royal right. I've set aside copies for XL, Mago and Cyberpete.

So people, I've got another 2 copies looking for a new home/country.

First come, first served lovelies.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

World Book Night

Ladies and Gentlemen, you're going to have to start voting. I had loads of fun with all the different songs you came up with Rain in the title. I knew quite a few, but I listened to some great new ones. It's just been so much fun.

World Book Night is a project to give away 40,000 copies of 25 titles of books. It kicked off on the 5th of March. The idea is to read the book and then to leave it in a public place for the next person to come along and read it, or to give it away to friends, family or work colleagues. Each book has an identification number in the back. You register on the website when you've got your book and encourage the person you give the book to, to do the same and keep the chain going.

Now, this project is based in the UK and Ireland, but people, let's be a little bit exciting here. You my blog readers are from all over the globe. 'World' in my reality means the Earth. Therefore, I'm being really cheeky here.

I'm not going to accept any more song titles with Rain in them. Have a look through the comments and then chose the most awesome Rain Song. No, you can't vote for yourself. No, you can't vote more that once. You gotta tell me why that song is awesome. I will tot up the votes on mid-day Friday. That's 12:00, on the 18th March.

Whoever gets the most votes will get the book. I will post it to you, so the winner will have to send me your IRL name and address, once you've got the book, you've got to register it on-line.  I promise not to dooce you on the blog, send suspicious people round your house or order pizza in your name. If you're not happy with breach of anonymity, if you're a bit shy and retiring, not a problem. I'll try and e-mail you first to see if you're happy with me having your details and if you want the book, fantastic, if not, we'll go to runner up.

Anyway, enough about me here's the book I've got -

Stuart - a life lived backwards, is the story of a remarkable friendship between a reclusive writer and illustrator and a chaotic, knife-wielding beggar whom he gets to know during a campaign to release two charity workers from prison.

Interwoven into this is Stuart’s confession: the story of his life, told backwards. With humour, compassion (and exasperation) Masters slowly works back through post-office heists, prison riots and the exact day Stuart discovered violence, to unfold the reasons why he changed from a happy-go-lucky little boy into a polydrug-addicted, alcoholic Jekyll and Hyde personality.

Funny, despairing, brilliantly written and full of surprises: this is the most original and moving biography of recent years.

Alexander Masters

It's a brilliant read. Funny, honest and heart breaking.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Song Titles - Rain

I'm grumpy. It's grey and cold outside. I fancy a bit of a pick-me-up that won't involve feeling rotten tomorrow morning.

So go on then, let's see how many different song titles with Rain, you can remember. Rules are: one song per comment. And each comment has to have a different song. I'm sure you can manage to follow those *looks pointedly at Cyberpete* Love to have YouTube links if you can get them to behave.

Happy Tuesday people.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Right to Whinge

So I was standing in line at a bank, waiting to put some cheques in. One of the practitioners asked me if I'd do his banking during my lunch hour. Seeing as RDJ wouldn't make our lunch date, what the hell, I went to his bank and waited.

Before me was an elderly lady who'd clearly forgotten the meaning of hair brush and remembered that rouge goes on in heavy, pink circles. Behind me was another who would have given Vogue a run for their money as far as classy and fashionable is concerned.

The lady in front clacked her dentures together in disgust. She'd been waiting a whole 2 minutes and had patently had enough. She tried to incite me to join the revolution.

I declined on the grounds that I bet people in Japan were wishing for the opportunity to be queuing in a bank for a couple of minutes without fear of the earth or sea or nuclear disaster.

The lady behind me nodded sagely. For her, it was the thought of the poor children. For me, it's been the thought of the WWII survivors. To have rebuilt their country, to rightly expect a peaceful and gentle retirement...I can only shake my head. She said she was a WWII survivor as well.

We nodded and waited in contented silence until it was my turn to put the cheques in.

Sunday, March 13, 2011


The title describes my last 3 days. I'm exhausted. I've never been so grateful to get to Sunday evening and looking forward to Monday.

Swimming with Bea. We had to meet a bit earlier because I was due to go to the dentist. That was the theory. The reality was: my internal speed was set to 'slow' and I had to text her to say yet again, I was going to be late.

We got to the swimming pool and it was filled with vintage swimmers and the pool was cold. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against vintage swimmers apart from the fact that they were twice my age and swimming twice as fast as I could manage.  Bea and I agreed we'd do 10 lengths and head for coffee and cake.

I then had to make a dash for the dentist. He's very pleased with the orthodontal work. Nine months has passed and I've probably got another 10 months to go. I can't wait. When the brackets come off I'm treating myself to a thorough clean and a whitening session. Yes, I will have the Hollywood Smile.

Boy's furniture, ordered at the end of December was due for delivery 'in the morning'. Now, I don't know about you, but my experience of waiting in for a delivery has usually run along the lines of:

Them: we'll be there in the morning.

Me: what time?

Them: between 8am and 1pm.

Me: can't you be more specific?

Them: no.

Me (ringing at 1.30 to find out where the fuck they'd got to): where are you? How long will you be? I have a life/job/stuff to get on with.

Them: we're right around the corner. Be with you in half an hour.

Me (ringing at 4.30 to find out where the fuck they'd got to): where are you?

Them: no answer.

Me (ringing Customer Services the next day to complain): I lost a days' work because of your scandalous service.

Them: blah, blah, blah. Stop being such a difficult woman.

You get the picture. Anyway, I was fast asleep at 8.05 when my mobile phone rang. It was the Delivery Men. They were half an hour away. I was dressed and told Boy to get his act together when there was a knock at the door at 8.20. By 9 am they'd brought all the furniture in and carried it up the stairs. They drank their hot drinks, we'd had a nice chat and off they went with the remains of one of Boy's defunct bits of furniture. I thought there was going to more flat packing than was actually required. The Boy and his two friends assembled his new bed with little swearing or First Aid.

I'm not good with Chaos. I realised I was being a Stressed Bunny and unnecessarily stressing the teenage contingent with my Cowbaggedness. So I fled to Gee's for a cuppa for an hour. She calmed me down and patted my head.

I then dashed back to make sure I was presentable for my lunch with Z. I had to make sure I looked the part of a Lady wot Lunches (otherwise, she'd never come again). In the midst of me putting on my slap there was the knock at the door. Note to Self: when inviting someone into the bedroom, ensure the pile of laundry is in the laundry basket.

Gee introduced me to The Mulberry not so long ago and I thought it would be the perfect place for lunch. The food is great and reasonably priced. And most importantly, they serve my favourite cider.

Z is fantastic fun. We gossiped, laughed, ate and drank. I can't believe how quickly the time went. Had it not been for my next visitor, The Viking, arriving, I would have insisted she stay for longer. Note to Self: next time, get some appropriate nibbles in for the evening leg of the visit.

The Viking looks great. We haven't seen each other for a couple of years, so there was much to catch up on. We embarked on the world's slowest pub crawl. It took us 5 hours to do 3 establishments. We had a lovely dinner at 103 in the midst of consuming alcohol.

Remaining friends with someone you've been in a relationship with is highly rewarding. There's another human being out there who knows you well, loves you to bits and spending time with them is so easy and more importantly, fun. The friendship after the relationship means to me, that the relationship wasn't a waste of time. The connection endures. It's good.

The Viking went off early this afternoon. I've been feeling very fragile and undermotivated since then. I have 5 piles of laundry to do, and no, I'm not likely to do it now. I will do one load, simply because I think it's only right to wear clean clothes to work. I like people to stand next to me without the need to pinch their noses. But apart from that, I may do my nails, I will definitely indulge in murder and mayhem.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Got Ma New Boots On

Tuesday lunchtime, I belted into the City. I treated myself to some MAC goodies. On the way back to the alternative health care practice, I knew I was running out of time but I still called into House of Fraser in the Chapelfield Mall. Over the weekend, I had a vague look for some black, knee length boots, but nothing really grabbed hold of me.

As they say in Trinidad, 'who tell me do dat?'

I was served by the friendliest shop girl ever. She showed me these:

Well, what can I say? They fit fantastically well. And they look....AWESOME. These Ladies and Gentlemen are taxi shoes. No walking anywhere in these. The best bit? Darlings, these boots were a bargain. End of Season Sale, I had £50 off them. Of course I had to buy them. No question about it.

So, while I was there, I thought I really ought to look at some brown boots while I'm at it. I don't want to keep wearing my walking boots. Cyberpete is a bad influence on me. No more ugly shoes for me. And then I saw these:

Again, they fit surprisingly well. Darlings, these had £40 off. Bargain. My credit card is currently exhausted. It's refusing to talk to me.

I dashed back to work. When I told my Boss what I'd done, he wasn't at all cross I was 5 mins late, he wanted to see! I love the people I work with.

I wore the black boots into work, which was the Financial Services office. There are some disadvantages to working for your Independant Financial Advisor, especially when you've been categorically told to cut down the frivolous spending. However, he was in a good mood and I didn't get the lecture I was expecting.

I will say, wearing these gorgeous boots makes such a difference to me. I've been strutting around: shoulders back, chest out, tummy in. I couldn't wear such fabulous boots and not pay attention to make-up, clothes and accessories. Things I haven't been paying any attention to for many, many months. So, yay me.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

MCW - Best Movie shot in Scotland

This is not an accurate historical tale. There are some real bloopers in here (including the myriad of Scottish accents from all over Scotland, when they were all supposed to be from the same village), but it does not detract from the fact it's a good tale, well told.

Yes, it's been Hollywooded. But I can live with that.


And Happy MCW

Monday, March 07, 2011

Song Titles

For a bit of a laugh (as they say over here, in this part of the world), I thought I would challenge the breadth of your musical knowledge.

How many songs do you know with Jump in the title?

To kick things off, I'm putting this one out here. You can blame the lovely Savannah for reminding me what a completely awesome track this is, and how impossible it is to listen to it without bouncing along.

One song title per comment, no repeats. It would be outstanding if you can do YouTube links.

Come on, how else are you gonna spend Monday?

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Comment from Anonymous

I found this in my Blogger spam folder. What can I say, Ladies and Gentlemen, I just had to share.


Why American men should boycott American women

I am an American man, and I have decided to boycott American women. In a nutshell, American women are the most likely to cheat on you, to divorce you, to get fat, to steal half of your money in the divorce courts, don’t know how to cook or clean, don’t want to have children, etc. Therefore, what intelligent man would want to get involved with American women?

American women are generally immature, selfish, extremely arrogant and self-centered, mentally unstable, irresponsible, and highly unchaste. The behavior of most American women is utterly disgusting, to say the least.

This blog is my attempt to explain why I feel American women are inferior to foreign women (non-American women), and why American men should boycott American women, and date/marry only foreign (non-American) women.


Posted by Anonymous to journeying at 10:58 AM

*  *  *

Someone's a bit grumpy today.

I visited his blog. I couldn't help myself. I know, I should know better. I'm tired and it's been a long day. But he pushed the wrong fucking button.

What can I say? He's probably ugly. And without a job. And is definitely a misogynist.

I always think the whole gender specific chastity angle a bit worrying. There are all these rampant women running around, dropping their knickers. But riddle me this...who are they dropping their knickers for? Oh, men. Given I've never seen a woman be a slut by herself, I think he's got a slight case of: double standards.

There was the brief temptation to tell him to go fuck himself, but frankly, given the blog content, he's already doing that...and often.

MCW Best Political Thriller

For me, it is Syriana. George Clooney is stunning and by gaining the pounds and facial hair, I was finally able to see what the fuss was all about. The man can really act.

No, this isn't a movie I'll watch again. It's too hard. It requires no imagination, no suspension of belief. Instead it acts as a mirror.

This is what the world has been like.

Hello from Me at March 2019

I've been struggling to find the words to describe my Life since December 2018 to now. In and amongst the tough bits, there have been th...