Sometimes

…you don’t realise something until you start talking about it to someone else. This often happens when you’re talking to someone about them and then suddenly realise that the conversation has turned to you.

I guess this is how counselling works – you start waffling away and then before you know it you’ve had some kind of revelation to yourself.

Anyway, today I started talking to someone about them and somehow ended up talking about me, and before I knew it that other person was offering me help when I’d intended to try to help them!

Me? Jealous?

Bums.

My mother was out shopping recently when she was accosted (in a friendly manner) by a man who asked her if she was my mother.

It turns out that the man is the father of a girl who was a one-time best friend of mine. The friendship turned somewhat sour when this girl started to pick on me – calling me names, trying to trip me up, drawing on my clothes, the usual schoolgirl harassment. (It appears her father knew nothing of this.)

So, in the manner of parents, my mother and her father swapped ‘and what are they doing now?’ stories. My mother is I’m sure proud of me and even though she doesn’t actually know what I do I’m sure she mentioned my upcoming possible promotion.

What does the other girl do now? This girl who was my nemesis for so many years? The girl who made my life hell for longer than I should have put up with it?

She does my dream job. Yes, she is a travel writer.

Bums.

I am consoling myself however that she lives in a flat (whereas we have a spacious country estate of course), and she’s not married (so she must be a dried up lesbian). Plus she probably doesn’t have any friends as a) she lives in London and b) she travels all the time. And by ‘travel writer’ he probably meant that she reviews B&Bs in Scunthorpe, for a local paper. And she probably smells of cabbage. Oh – and she has a mole on her face that looks like she’s superglued a raisin to her chin.

Look – no guard rails!

Can you spot the warning sign?

Originally uploaded by prrincess purrplechick.

When we went to the Grand Canyon a couple of years ago, we were waiting to take our flight from Vegas with some Americans. One American couple were saying how shocking they found it that there weren’t any guard rails at the Canyon. We on the other hand were shocked that anyone could seriously expect guard rails at the Canyon – one of the wonders of the world really shouldn’t be blighted by cement stanchions and metal ropes.

We were reminded of this yesterday when I spotted the tiny sign featured in this picture. I had to go right up to the sign to read what it said, not realising that in doing so I was almost right on top of the overhang.

My inner American was screaming.

Shiggle

My life may be falling apart, but I can shiggle my brand new, size 10 (US size 8 ) jeans. And that’s after a week lard-arsing around eating and drinking as much as I want.

See, every cloud and all that….

Battered

Some people are so touchy.

All I did was correct someone’s pronounciation – I’m a Virgo, I can’t help it.

Next thing I knew, missiles were being thrown at me. A cigarette packet hit me in the face, corner first. I was so lucky I was wearing glasses, otherwise it would have lodged in my eye, and try explaining that at A&E. Luckily no damage was caused, but still.

I do believe it was a fluke though – the thrower wouldn’t usually be able to hit me with a pillow from a distance of 1 metre. Or catch a pillow, for that matter.

Dogs’ home

Yesterday was the 3 week anniversary of Jack’s ‘passing’. Until yesterday, we hadn’t moved any of his stuff – everything was just where it was when he went down to Bristol.

However, a friend of a friend is collecting for a dogs’ home in the local area. They want blankets, towels, toys, collars, leads, beds, bowls – all the paraphenalia that dogs need, especially dogs that are looking for a home.

Jack came from ‘the orphanage’ (as my dad always called it) and so it seems somehow appropriate that some of his stuff can go to provide comfort and warmth for another little dog that doesn’t yet have a home. There are some things I can’t yet bear to part with, but the things that Jack wasn’t so keen on I feel I could give.

So I started to look through his stuff, and I never realised he had so much! There were half used packs of worming tablets and flea stuff – because Jack was so big he always seemed to need 1.5 packs of tablets. Ear wipes, ear drops, coat conditioning oil, cod liver oil, dry shampoo, wet shampoo (for puppies as Jack was a sensitive boy), 2 types of painkiller… Leads, harnesses, fluorescent coats, fluorescent collars…. Tug toys, ropes, balls, balls on ropes, ropes of sausages (!), bouncy balls, big balls…. Blankets he ripped, blankets he hated, blankets he loved, blankets he tried to hump….

I’ve split his stuff almost in half and have a huge bag of stuff for the dogs’ home. There’s still enough here to remind us of Jack, and some things I couldn’t possibly get rid of, but I think he’d be happy that his stuff will be re-used by a dog who, like Jack once was, is sitting and waiting for someone to love them.

Alarming!

I went serious shoe shopping today – serious in that I only went for 2 pairs of shoes, and that’s all I came away with. Not even a spanking pair of Irregular Choice shoes (my ultimate dream pair of shoes – I will own some one day) could tempt me away from my mission.

Weirdly though, I was followed around by alarms all day. In three shops, and the pub/restaurant where I had lunch, alarms started sounding almost as soon as I entered. And I’m not talking about the alarms that sound when you walk out the shop with a tag still on your purchase – these were full-on fire alarms – one even had a recorded voice saying ‘An alarm is being investigated, the store may need to be evacuated.’ (Not before I’ve bought my shoes, bitch!)

Weird.

And… relax

I’m knackered. The weekend was as fabulous as I’d hoped, but I am so glad we weren’t in work today as I am absolutely pooped. And I was hungover this morning. Curse that last glass of wine.

London was superb – the Scissor Sisters gig was better than I thougt it would have been, and there was such a great crowd there too (except for the annoying woman who insisted on banging a tambourine all the way through). I even managed to snag myself a 6ft 3 (ish) escort to the loo and back – which was just as well as I’d never have made it through the crowds and found my way back again alone. The shopping and London Eye thing didn’t go quite as planned and we ended up forgoing the Eye for shopping time, but it didn’t matter in the long run.

Dinner last night was awesome – for all you foodies I had venison pate, fillet steak and then dark chocolate torte with chantilly cream – and the wine was superb too. So superb we drank 2 bottles. And then had some more wine when we got back to the house. Hence my hangover.

I was really spoiled for my birthday, I had some fantastic gifts, money for shoes and vouchers for stationery & book porn and a pampering session What more could a girl ask for? (Thankfully the pampering session includes a foot massage – I need it after all the walking we did in London!)

All I need now is some energy…

Exciting times ahead

Things are starting to look up a bit, at last.

This weekend is a special time for ade and I, and we have a weekend-long celebration planned. We had hoped for a week or at least a few days away, preferably somewhere warm and/or cultural that you have to reach by plane, but unexpected expenses scuppered that plan. This weekend kind of evolved of its own accord with almost minimal planning – which is just as well as I haven’t been in any fit state to organise an orgy in a brothel. It’s turning into a weekend that looks like it may make up for the lack of a holiday.

So, on the agenda we have:
- lunch out with my work colleagues tomorrow
- going out for dinner to a nice restaurant with friends tomorrow night
- an early start for London on Saturday
- shopping for my birthday present
- Scissor Sisters concert
- Sunday morning London mooch
- dinner at a verry swanky restaurant on Sunday evening (our first choice has closed for 2 weeks so we’ve gone for somewhere even more upmarket)
- Monday is the start of a whole, blissful, much-needed week off work
- and Monday is also the day that ade picks up his new beetle!

We’ll need the rest of the week off to recover I think!

Going retro

That’s it. I’m going retro.

I’m getting off the Internet in the evenings and watching TV or (preferably) reading a book (!!).

I’m using the landline more often than mobile phones or Skype.

I’m considering writing cheques, and I’m certainly paying for more things in cash.

I’ve started reading newspapers rather than reading the news online.

I’m even giving up on the PDA malarkey (after losing all my info one too many times, along with my temper) and I’ve asked for a personal organiser, Filofax style.

How long will it last I wonder?…