Walk on the Wilde Side

Now, I'm not one for competitions. Firstly, I'm not terribly competitive. If you want to dash across that field, go ahead by all means. No, I don't care how far you can throw that stick. Excuse me? You want me to run? Secondly, I'm not much of a gambler. I did do the Trinidad National Lottery when there was an oportunity to win $13 million TT, and spent a pleasant afternoon spending the imaginary money, but wasn't terribly suprised when I didn't win. I don't even bother to do the Lottery in the UK. Quite frankly, I have more chance that Robert Downey Jr will walk into my local cafe, catch sight of me and fall madly in love. And let's be honest, that ain't never gonna happen. Blog competitions, I tend to pass on. Mostly because MJ is really scary when she wants to win something and I'm really not woman enough to take her on.

However, on the 22nd of July. XL changed my mind. He was offering an Oscar Wilde action figure. I thought 'bugger it' and entered. Of course there was the inevitable cat fight and I'm not sure Savannah has forgiven me. Ladies and Gentlemen, I won! No, really. I won. How excited was I?! I had to explain to my brother's family why I was jumping up and down and squealing like a teenage girl. They still thought I was bonkers. I don't think that has anything to do with my winning Oscar though.

XL posted the winner on the 28th of July. You may remember that I was in Trinidad at that time, caring for my father. Bless him, XL offered to post it out to me, which would have meant I'd never have got him. XL and I had a brief flurry of e-mails. I asked him to hold on to Oscar until I made it back to the Cold and Grim. Pretty much as soon as I landed in London Gatwick, XL was asking if he could post Oscar over.

Last week Monday, I got a note from Royal Mail telling me they were holding a parcel for me. Queue much girlie squealing. But, I was going to London to visit a friend on Tuesday and I knew I couldn't get to the post office for a couple of days. My night out in London turned into a few days as my friend and I got hideously drunk (my liver has written a letter of complaint to my MP) and staying on seemed like a good idea at the time. I finally staggered back to Norwich Friday night. Second thing, Saturday morning I went and picked up Oscar.

He was lovingly packaged, along with a really sweet note from Lola, RJ and XL. I was especially touched to find, Oscar hadn't got bored and munched the box of chocolates. XL had kindly included some postcards for Oscar to write home, which he declined to do.

Since then, Oscar has been regalling me with his famous quotes, the most applicable to me being:

'I can resist anything but temptation'.

The one that had me in stitches was: Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.

Many thanks to XL for Oscar, he looks quite content next to my laptop.

Grounded

So much for best laid plans. Thanks to the Icelandic eruption, the UK skies are currently filled with volcanic ash. All UK air traffic is grounded. To any people grounded and grumbling, flying through a volcanic ash cloud leads to 'oh shit, the engines have shut down' shortly followed by 'mayday, mayday...we're all going to diiiiiee', a long plummet and a short stop. The two aircraft who flew through the ash in Jakarta in 1982 were bloody lucky, I don't really fancy the experience myself. As you may remember I'm not a huge fan of fair ground rides. Plummetting would really ruin my day.

Having said all of that, here we are in Trinidad, probably for at least another couple of days extra. I'm very lucky. I'm staying with my family who are showing some reluctance to let us go anyway. I'm thinking of the people who are in hotels, airports etc. I don't have an employer breathing down my neck. Boy does have school and he may end up missing a day, but it's not life-threatening. So, we'll chill out a bit longer, continue to eat fantastic local fare, hug my Niece and Nephew, hang out with the rellies. Oh the hardship.

It rained yesterday. Today, we've got up to an overcast sky and damp ground. It's a very welcome sight. This has been one of the hardest Dry Seasons in years and the earth is desperate for the moisture. As it has been a gentle rain, rather than a downpour, it will soften the scorched soil and then absorb the rain, rather than run straight off the land and into the rivers. I love tropical rain. I can sit outside and watch it fall from the sky for hours.

All in all, I'm a happy bunny. The break has been fantastic for me. It's been an injection of energy that I've desperately needed. I'm looking forward to getting back to Norwich and stuck into World Domination. That I have to wait a couple of days extra is neither here nor there.

Gadgets

This post is dedicated to Kaz.

When we moved home in April, one of the things I wanted to get was a paninni toaster. We are partial to the odd toasted cheese sarnie and I thought a panninni toaster would do all kinds of breads. That was until I saw the price of the damn thing. It was nigh on £100!

Bearing in mind that I have a poor history with kitchen gadgets i.e. I've spent a hideous amount of money on them, used them for a month (if that much) and then they've sat in the cupboard unused and gathering dust.

I had a bit of a brainwave and had a look at the George Forman grills. By complete chance, the one that I wanted was a third off at Argos. So, I invested.

I have to say that was the best £22.00 I've ever invested in a gadget. I've used it to grill bacon, salmon and chicken, and it makes brilliant toasted cheese sarnies. It's a little one, and for two people quite frankly, it's perfect.

What gadgets have you found fabulous and regularly use?

PS. Coffee machines don't count as they are a necessity, not an indulgence.

PPS. I was talking about kitchen gadgets; if you're going to be filthy, make sure it's entertaining and ingenious.

Pity Party

I've invited the Self-Pity Gnome over and we're having a Pity Party this weekend.

I've decided to take some time out. I'm going to self-indulge and really am giving up all sensible thoughts and actions for the next couple of days. Monday is soon enough for reality.

Don't get me wrong, I have much to be thankful for, but I want to take some time to accept that Life is Tough and Quite Frankly, Shit.

All welcome!

Bring red wine and munchies.

What Plan?

It's funny really. I know exactly what to do in a crisis, I can problem solve for other people in a heartbeat, I can get on the phone and give Richard Branson shit for not sorting out my wretched box, or blast a solicitor for giving me 24 hours notice to transfer money across into their holding account. I'm just not very sure what to do when things are turning out well.

Life is so much easier, if you've got a Plan that goes tits up, or even occaisionally a Plan that goes right (though I've not had much experience of that one). I'm now sitting here with a vague sense of unease that something is about to go completely pear-shaped and I should be addressing it immediately. But I just can't figure out why. Yes, I'm procrastinating shouting at the tax people and I still haven't looked for my metres or sorted out my TV License...but these are balls which I know are sitting at my feet.

I suspect I'm just not used to things working out well for me. My job is going well. I met a friend who I haven't seen in years and we were talking about work and study and my house move and she laughed and said 'ah you're a grown-up now'. And I realised she's right. These are grown-up decisions I've been making. I want a stable and comfortable home for Boy, the Cat and me. I want regular employment, I want a car that gets me from A to B in a reliable, but fun way. In the last 6 months I have come to value paying bills on time, buying food without thinking 'how much?'. There is much to be said for going shopping without the guilt for the Indulgencies. I am getting used to this.

Does this mean I'm becoming 'normal'? This is slightly worrying for me. I mean I'm paying a mortgage, living in a semi, driving a BMW, earning an honest living. Am I turning into someone I never wanted to be? Am I turning into a suburban, net-curtain twitching, repressed woman?

Dunno. Only time will tell. Perhaps this blog will soon be filled with the mis-adventures of shopping in John Lewis? I hope not.

Home

I'm sat here trying to come up with the right words to describe how I feel at the moment.

The last three days have been whizzed past, and by some miracle, there are only 6 boxes left to unpack. Bearing in mind that my books alone were 30 boxes, not to mention many tens of boxes of my crap. But as I look about our new house, filled with our stuff, it feels like home. So much so, I am waiting for someone to leap out and say 'fooled you, it's not yours - you didn't really think you could live here?'

Don't get me wrong, there is still loads to sort out. We might have unpacked, but we're still figuring out the best place to put things. Last night, when Boy cleared off with his mates, I wondered around with a feeling of such bliss, such ease. This feels so right, it's almost scary. This was love at first sight, and I was afraid to trust it, afraid to hope that this could be mine, now I'm here, I just feel incredibly lucky; and thankful.

I have much to be thankful for. Life may not have been easy and things don't go smoothly, but I am thankful for my friends who love me for myself and are open and generous with their time and affection; I am thankful to my Boy, who might be a teenager, but is still truly wonderful and I still think there is sunshine in his bony, little backside; I am thankful for our new home, may we have many happy years here.

I would also like to thank Richard Branson. All of you know how he has brought me despair in the past, from the moment I pick up the phone and wade my way through his telephone labyrinth, I want to consume my body weight in valium. But today, I have to take it all back. Even he came through for me. Tuesday morning, I was on the futon, trying to stay out of the movers way, making as many of the 'we're moving' calls. I gritted my teeth, rang Virgin, got a very nice guy who happily organised a package upgrade, as well as the house move. He told me the engineer would be out between 13:00 and 18:00 hours today. I wrote off my afternoon.

Early afternoon, I was playing with my new washing machine and dryer; the phone rang, it was the engineer, letting me know he'd be with me at 13.30. At 13.15, he knocked on my door. By 14.30, he set me up with a ridiculously fast internet, new tv box and switched on my phone. I did another load of laundry, slapped some gloss on and went to chat up up my favourite BMW salesman (of course he needs to change my address, so all of the fabulous brochures know where to find me).

I am beginning to feel more like myself again, I didn't realise how tightly I was holding it all together. It feels like I'm letting the tension go, one vertebra at a time. For the first time in weeks, I painted my toe nails - hot, sparkly pink. Tomorrow, I go for a massage and a facial.

Life isn't too bad at all, really.

New Year's Day

Please read this quietly...I had a fabulous time last night...

Saw the New Year in with the Norwich Chant lot, we played cut-throat Articulate, drank several different varieties of alcohol (which could possibly be the reason for my current state of fragility), ate yummy snacks, sang along with Hootenanny and danced while Gee dejayed everything from Tamla Motown to 80s kitsch.

I crawled into bed at about 3 am, I tried to limit my drunken declarations of undying love and slept pretty well.

My hopes for 2009 are fairly straightforward.

~ After being in my flat for nearly 10 years, it's time for somewhere with more space for Boy to stretch out and for me to have a study, so I'm house hunting.
~ As wonderful as the MR2 is, I would like something that's mine which is a newer and requires less regular pampering. Unfortunately, that car has spoilt me and every time I look at something sensible...I can't go there.
~For my sanity, I need to do more creative stuff: I've got to get back to my writing and my art. Included in that is going to the theatre, going to arty cinema, indulging in galleries and museums.

Time to have a bit of fun methinks.

Saucer Depth

I was thinking about the comment Mutley made on my last post. I read it this morning as I cuddled up to my cup of coffee. I must confess to being a touch irritated. Being called a chav before I'd finished my coffee was a bit much; and then I laughed. I was irritated because I had been wondering about it myself.

I meant to do some research before I posted here, but I'm running out of energy, so I'll give you my thoughts and if it means that much to you, you can go off and do some research yourself. To decorate the human body is one of the oldest pastimes besides sex. Consider primitive tribes all over the world. They find ways of decorating, tattooing, piercing, scarifying their bodies. Body art and decoration acts as a way of showing social status, marital status, gender, age. It also acts as the preparation for rituals, coming of age events, weddings, funerals etc. I remember watching a programme, I think it was the Discovery Channel, and there were a group of bare breasted women, plaiting each other's hair and painting each other's bodies with red ochre, then they all went off to the social event singing and dancing.

I never did the make-up thing before this Christmas. It seemed too indulgent, too selfish. I had a couple of lipsticks for a few years going furry at the bottom of my handbag. Very rarely bothered with it when I went in to work, might slap on some gloss for an evening do. When I got those 9 days in the department store I had to learn really quickly about fragrances, cosmetics, make-up etc. And I have to say, I liked what I saw. I've gone from 1 fragrance to 8 (a lot of them are testers), I've gone from one small bag with an eyeshadow, a gloss and lipstick, to 2 boxes and a basket full of cosmetics and make-up. I have moisturisers for day and evening, serums to hydrate and prevent wrinkles, toner. Not forgetting Touche Eclat, which really is a girl's best friend, hides all manner of sins. Then there's 3 foundations (2 powder, 1 lotion), pressed powders and blusher. I've got eye shadow pallettes and singles. I've got eye liners and lip liners, masscara and lip glosses and lip sticks and pots. Oh, I'd nearly forgot about the little pot of shiny loose eye powder. Then there's the latest, my nail varnishes and of course the nail varnish remover.

I admit that it's probably a touch over the top, but I love it all.

In my experience men don't notice very much about a woman's appearance. If you ask my Viking, I suspect he'd tell you he's completely unbothered by my wearing make-up. I suspect he'd rather I didn't bother, because there would be a chance we might get somewhere on time. He likes me just the way I am. Which is lovely beyond belief.

But I don't wear make-up for him. Or any other man, for that matter.

Although, it's lovely to think that appearances don't matter, I think of the women I know who are au naturel. They've generally had low-self esteem, seriously lacked confidence and were quite unhappy in themselves and in their relationships. The women I know who wear a bit of slap aren't necessarily any more sorted or together, but they tend to be a bit more spikey and pluckey.

I wear make-up for me. It makes me feel good. It might very well be argued that because I'm feeling good, I want to look good. I'm in a period of my life where I'm content with where I'm going, what I'm doing and who I'm sharing my journey with. Or perhaps I've just discovered that I've really got the emotional depth of a saucer.

By the way, the Bronzeberry still looks fabulous.

Bronzeberry

For my male, hetrosexual readers - my apologies. More girlie stuff.

My Boy had his in-grown toenails done last Friday. An event I found equally as traumatic as he did, though he will tell you that the worst part about the whole experience was the sandals he was forced to wear to school for two days at the start of the week. Yesterday, the chiropodist gave his instructions for further care of the two big toes. Unfortunately, I have no brain of late and completely forgot to get the pile of bandages and stuff. So after coming home from work, I had to walk back into the city to the Boots in Chapelfield. Fortunately, it was late night shopping there and I was able to get the supplies.

When Gertie came in, she told me about Stuff that was on sale: foundations for a £1, lipglosses and eyeshadows going cheap. I was so good. I had a quick look as I went past going towards the pharmacy section, but didn't stop. I was strong. I bought the necessaries, I headed out the store. And then it happened.

I stopped and looked at their nail-polish. No 7 stuff, going begging. I rooted through the bin, like the bargain hunter I really am. I found Bronzeberry Speed Dry nail varnish. It was love at first sight. It sat there in the bargain bin, looking all lonely and lovely, all the while the banker in my brain is busy lecturing and wagging his thick finger at me. I did try and deny my love. But I couldn't. I was a weak woman. I hang my head in shame.

I am now a Bronzeberry woman. My nails are really red and sparkley. I've lost 2 hours tonight indulging. Pure bliss. I go to bed tonight a very happy woman. Even if I'm £5 the poorer.

Nights in Blue Pyjamas

I needed some time off, some time away. Some space from Home and Responsibilities.

It's tough sometimes. Not helped by recent bereavements, financial concerns and the stress of getting this degree done. I just needed some time out. So I led Hottie astray at the weekend and then got to meet Viking's tribe for the first time. Of course, the thought of it was much worse than the reality, which included good food, good wine and brilliant company. I was made very welcome. After a couple of days hanging out with the cool cats, I got to relax in the Viking's longboat; when he went out about his daily business dealing with pillaging in the community, I was there to provide light amusement at the end of the day. Bless him, he was very good about me invading his space.

I've decided that my favourite thing about getting away from it all, is coming home again. At an indecent hour I shed my outdoor clothing and hit the pjs. I've been reading trash and watching dire telly, while Boy has been on my pc making Halo videos. I am one happy bunny. A little indulgence has gone a long way in bringing my shoulders down from my ears. I have a To Do list waiting for me. But it can wait a bit longer.

Happy Wednesday

Just to let you know I haven't fallen off the ends of the Earth, although it does feel like I've been there and back. I went to see Hottie for the weekend in Liverpool. She's just great and bless her, spoilt me rotten. We had a quiet time of it really, my system not being up for major sessions at the moment. But I did manage to lead her astray which is always good fun. Having recently been a convert to all things completely girlie, when we went shopping I twisted her arm into having a lovely make-up girl from MAC give her a new look.

Thinking about it, if Alix wouldn't have got me the job in the department store, I would not have ever dreamt of sitting down at a cosmetic house and ask for a new 'look'. I always thought that these orange, made-up to the 9s women, were bitchy and would look down on any attempt on my part to access their world. Actually, a bunch of nicer, more gorgeous women I have yet to meet. They are so enthusiastic about their work, and while it is part sales pitch, they genuinely seem to get pleasure from making other women feel good about themselves.

Hottie and I were talking about it at length over a bottle of red velvet, she was commenting on my new joy in being a girlie. I possess more make-up now, than I have ever owned in my entire life. Most of it being the sparkley type. I pamper myself now within an inch of my life. It doesn't actually have anything to do with how I look. I still have a list of things that I'd love to magically change (doesn't everyone?), but it is about how I feel about myself. These things are fun to do, it makes me feel good. When I was doing my diss...I confess I had sparkley eyeshadow and lip gloss on at 2 in the morning, as well as fabulous perfume. And yes, the cat did think I was a bit nuts. Boy withheld comment (he is going to make some woman a very good husband).

I suppose I've come to believe that Life is difficult enough: jobs are hard work, maintaining family relationships, friendships, partnerships can be tough, money is a never ending cause for concern. Therefore, rather than join in with the grind anything that can give a knackered person a lift, whether its the glass of good red at the end of the day, a shared meal with a loved one, a good book, a bit of a pamper...should be indulged.

I really like that word, I'll say it again Indulge. It sounds so decadent, and more than a bit selfish. I mean really, how can a person justify taking a few moments to please themselves, when there's so much else to be getting on with. Hmmm....well because a life without pleasure is called existence. True pleasure is never selfish. When you feel good, everything relaxes and this thing happens with your lips...it's called a smile. Be honest, you have to have a heart of stone not to respond when someone smiles at you, just because you can (no, I'm not talking about the weirdo on the train/bus/at work).

Why don't we be really naughty together? Tell me what you are going to do to indulge yourself?