Saturday, August 30, 2008

Just Fuck Off Already...

I've spent a lot of time, sweat and effort in getting my garden to look awesome. I've done a damned good job, if I say so myself. I've saved a fortune rather than paying a landscaper to come and do it for me. So just when it's about done, just as it's really looking great as it is and all that's left is the tweaking to satisfy my own personal pickiness what should happen? Cats. Fucking cats. I've done nothing but chase cats out of my garden for a week now. Where are they coming from? Have they got a cat club and they've told all their cat friends to come and hang out at Casa Lyvvie because her garden is aces. So bad enough I have poop scoop before mowing the grass because - we don't want shit splattered across our shins now do we? No we don't, thank you. But this morning there was an enormous pile of cat puke in the alley next to my house. The wee shit! And it must be a greedy fucking cat too because this was a huge barf full of unchewed chunks. the real insult, the real thing that pisses me off - We Don't Have Any pets! These are all "other people's" cats coming into my yard and using it as a toilet. I love cats, but I'm of the opinion now, I don't like other people's cats, and they should keep their fucking greedy, food snarffing cats out of my yard.

Other thing that really has to fuck off is the damned jingle that won't get out of my head. A commercial from the 80's, and only one line of the song. "Hello Rusty Jones! Goodbye Rusty Cars!" I have no idea why this is in my head, where the trigger came from but for the love of life get Rusty Fucking Jones out my head!

Kids are annoying me too. they keep whining and fighting with each other. Throwing tantrums. crying to me for comfort when I told them ten minutes ago to stop goofing around and to not come crying to me when the game got out of control.

My SIL, Autie Slug, was at Grandma Betty's when we showed up at lunchtime. She was going to escort Grandma to the shops. I was immediately suspicious, we all went back inside and I made lunch for us all. I mean, she's her grand-daughter, she deserves her time despite the fact that she's a deceitful sleezebag. When it became apparent she hadn't fed her own kids lunch before going to the grocery store - she's not smart either - I ended up making them lunch too. My niece and nephew are sweet kids - they really are, and I love seeing them. The fact the wee one (who's four, just four months older than Shorty) said "This is good salad!" while eating a piece of raw spinach and his mom said "He's not tried spinach before so this is good." I smile and nod. I smile and nod a lot when she comes around. Then I felt like we should go because too many kids, noise and activity over stimulated Grandma and she gets very tired and she still had to go shopping with them. What does Betty do before we leave? Hand over a roll of £20s and make me feel the sleezeball. ARG! I told her last week to stop giving us so much money. She now gives it to the kids so they see it and get all excited and I can't be the big mean bitch who says no to the kids and Grandma when they gang up on me. So I look the greedy one when really I want to be better than that.

I told her last week that we don't come for money - we come to spend some time with her, to make her lunch, to do any odd jobs, to show her we love her. We do, Betty is awesome. But her confidence is down - another family saga that makes me want to kick the Pastor's son in the nards and smack Auntie Hagrid around a bit. When Betty started doing the "I'm not going to live forever and really I shouldn't have lived this long..." crap again today I told her to cut it out. I know she's a bit depressed. Her very close friend passed away a few months ago and she's taken it particularly hard.

I just hate being the villain either way. Take her money and she's happy to help us out. The rest of the family frown at us for taking the money of an elderly lady. Don't take the money and I deny the old woman her joy of spoiling her great-grandkids.

There was something else but I forget what it was just now.

Husband gets to go out drinking for the night with his mates. I asked him for a two weeks trip, alone, just me, to Japan and the colour drained from his face. There's just no fairness!!

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Oh dear, I keep forgetting to post something...

I'm just a bit pre-occupied with stuff at the moment. Busy and yet, not so busy. New routine is taking some getting used to. I've been really tired the past couple nights. Sleeping like the dead and waking up groggy and grumpy. It's not like me. I usually wake up and bounce out of bed, but not much with the bounce these days.

I had a call Monday night from the physio I've been waiting to for an appointment with. They'd had a cancellation and did I want the appt.? Why yes I did! So Tuesday morning I went in. I've been having a problem with stabbing pains in my right pelvis for a few years and I've finally decried to have it looked at. Once my GP said it wasn't a hernia or an ovary problem, phsio was my next look in.

I didn't have to do much before she figured out the problem - I have a weak core. She says it was really obvious when she asked me to stand on one foot because my hips were moving to much to balance, and that's not supposed to happen. Funny how a back problem caused me pain in the front? Too much six pack exercises and not enough deep muscle ones. Apparently it's pretty bad too. Hold over from pregnancy - another reason to have kids when you're twenty. I've been told to do a few exercises and stretches twice a day for the next three weeks, before moving up to a next level. As a consequence I must scale back my normal exercises to a more basic level. No more weighted lunges, no more weighted side bends, resistance is off on the bike, rower and I'm forbidden to run or jog. Walking only. I'm rather annoyed and bummed out by it. I'll just get through the physio and then I can have my old routine back.

I also have put a request in to see a podiatrist. My arches have fallen again, another half shoe size up. Shoes I bought and fit in May are now crowding my toes. It's ridiculous really - I mean sure I spend a fortune on nice, proper, supportive (often hideous, but hey) bras so my boobs don't sag, so instead my feet collapse. Just can't win.

The sun is shining just now, I better run outside and catch some before it disappears again. Nearly four weeks of rain. Wettest August in history. Not fair. I really need to throw down some moss killer. I have a lot to do in the garden before winter comes. cut the edges, trim out the weeds, put down bark. I have tomatoes and pumpkins growing but I really don't think they'll come to fruit. I left them too late. Tomatoes are still flowering for fuck sake. My pumpkins aren't doing well either, they've taken over a part of garden, have loads of flowers but when the bud dies off the two inch pumpkin that starts to grow just falls off...then the slugs descend on it. Bastards! So I don't think we'll have fat orange pumpkins this fall like I envisaged. Ah well. The kids have enjoyed watching them grow, there's that at least. Next time I'll not leave it so late in the season.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Food MeMe

Another meme!

By Lyvvie (Nicked from Badger)

It has rules but you only need to know about two of them. (If you MUST know all of the rules, go read blackbird's version.)

1) Bold all the items you have eaten.
2) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.

1. Venison - Hello - I live in Scotland. Yes.
2. Nettle tea - Hello - I live in Scotland. Yes. (It's good for digestion and detox)
3. Huevos rancheros - NO - but I totally want some NOW!
4. Steak tartare - Yes. There's a story. As a kid my Dad used to eat cold hot dogs out of the fridge. Kids copy their parents and I of course preferred hamburger. Luckily I never got the E-coli.
5. Crocodile - Does Alligator count?
6. Black pudding Lovely. You should see how it's made!
7. Cheese fondue - No, I've missed out on all the fondue madness.
8. Carp -Not that I recall, but I've heard they're muddy tasting
9. Borscht - Yes! Anything beetroot is good in my opinion!
10. Baba ghanoush - Yes, but it was awful. Too fatty, oily, slimy and gross. I'd like to try a good one. NO wait...that was...whatwazzit? Eggplant, lamb, Greek? Baba Fett? Nonono. shut up. Moussaka! Sorry! But I'll try Baba ghanoush.
11. Calamari - Yes and I prefer it raw in a Japanese restaurant covered in lime juice.
12. Pho - Yes I've had hot noodle soup with meat stuffs. I've not had it in Vietnam, so does that count?
13. PB&J sandwich - Hello - I'm an American. Yes.
14. Aloo gobi - Yes, all the time. I make it. I prefer aloo chat, though.
15. Hot dog from a street cart, meat on a stick too Yes, I like the foot long hot dogs at Costco. Edinburgh has a street vendor at the West End.
16. Epoisses -I don't think so.
17. Black truffle - No, I've never tried truffles of any sort apart from chocolate. I'd love to know what the fuss is about.
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes - Peach, plum and many sorts of fruit brandy.
19. Steamed pork buns Steamed buns, yes but only plain. Wasn't impressed.
20. Pistachio ice cream - Yes, but I prefer strawberry.
21. Heirloom tomatoes - ...I dunno? Maybe?
22. Fresh wild berries - I am a woodland feaster.
23. Foie gras - Yes and it was really nice. But not worth the guilt.
24. Rice and beans - I tried the Big Brother diet once. (that's a joke)
25. Brawn, or head cheese - No way. I'm not a freaking zombie. No brains!
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper - Working my way up to it.
27. Dulce de leche - No, but I wouldn't say no.
28. Oysters - Yes, but never raw off the shell. Would try though...yet I hate slimy food.
29. Baklava - Oh yes, but can have too much and be ill.
30. Bagna cauda - No but want some now!
31. Wasabi peas - Oh yes!!
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl - Yes, but not in New England, where I'm from, but in my own kitchen because I'm so cool and made it myself.
33. Salted lassi - No, but I'd want to add cardamom.
34. Sauerkraut - Yes, but it makes me all puckered.
35. Root beer float - I can haz now?
36. Cognac with a fat cigar - YES...I feel so fucking stuck up now.
37. Clotted cream tea - I've made this for folks. Clotted cream and jam scones with tea. For Tea. Ayuh.
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O - Yes.
39. Gumbo - Yes and should make myself and not wait for the cajun festivals.
40. Oxtail - yes, I love oxtail soup.
41. Curried goat - It should say Goat curry - they get rather particular about that. I wouldn't say no.
42. Whole insects - ARG! Not on fucking purpose! No way to treat a babysitter.
43. Phaal - No. Not heard of it either. Sounds like the kind of thing menfolks get drunk and dare each other to eat.
44. Goat’s milk - yes. It's goaty.
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more - Hello - I live in Scotland. Yes.
46. Fugu - No but would try once.
47. Chicken tikka masala - So much I feel I may never need to again.
48. Eel - yes. Sushi.
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut - NO - we have no KK's in Scotland *pout* Prolly a good thing.
50. Sea urchin - Again, sushi.
51. Prickly pear - No...have some?
52. Umeboshi - I've had it dried, baked in cakes but not on its own.
53. Abalone - I'm fairly certain again as sushi.
54. Paneer - Not as named, but sounds like pressed cottage cheese to me.
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal - Prefer Burger King.
56. Spaetzle - It's just another word for noodle?
57. Dirty gin martini - Want one.
58. Beer above 8% ABV - Yupyup. Welcome to the UK!
59. Poutine - Again yes, but not in Canada so it should still count!!
60. Carob chips - Yes.
61. S’mores - Yes. they make them with saltines in Scotland. So weird. Import Graham Crackers you weirdos!
62. Sweetbreads - No and just won't. Offal is icky.
63. Kaolin - On reading I'll say probably. I have intentionally injested Bentonite clay as it was said to help detox. It tasted gross, and I now use it as a face mask.
64. Currywurst - Now is this a curried german sausage? Because then yes.
65. Durian - No, but reading it smells like corpses I'm not about to, either.
66. Frogs’ legs - No, have never found them on the menu.
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake - Yes. All of the above.
68. Haggis - Hello - I live in Scotland. Yes.
69. Fried plantain - No! I bought one a couple weeks ago and Forgot To Cook It!
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette - No. how weird!
71. Gazpacho - Yuk. Cold soup is just wrong.
72. Caviar and blini - Yes.
73. Louche absinthe - No but would love to.
74. Gjetost, or brunost - Sure!
75. Roadkill - (OK - If I hit a deer, and I had a couple pals to help me toss it into my truck...ok I have a truck, and I hit a deer, and my pals help me get it into my truck and we just so happen to be really close to a butcher who doesn't mind unannounced drop-by visitors with recently hit deer...)
76. Baijiu - If we call it moonshine, then yes!
77. Hostess Fruit Pie - I am an American.
78. Snail - ...not the land variety, but ocean yes. Cockles.
79. Lapsang souchong - In my kitchen right now!
80. Bellini - No but now I want one!
81. Tom yum - I'm getting hungry...this meme is mean.
82. Eggs Benedict - Yes, but it's a fancy name for an easy breakfast.
83. Pocky - yes. I'm a Japan fan.
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant - I'll call Gordon Ramsay this weekend!
85. Kobe beef - No. I' will have the real thing one day.
86. Hare - if this is the same thing as rabbit, then yes.
87. Goulash - yes.
88. Flowers - Nasturtians, violets, clover...
89. Horse - No, but I know it's a regular in France.
90. Criollo chocolate - I don't know.
91. Spam - Yes. Want to try Spam Musubi.
92. Soft shell crab - I've had it as tempura.
93. Rose harissa - I don't think I've had that particular variety.
94. Catfish - yes, but not in a very long time.
95. Mole poblano - Never had mole. I know it's not the wee furry beastie.
96. Bagel and lox - I have, but not for me.
97. Lobster Thermidor - No, just butter and lemon for me.
98. Polenta - Yes, but I like it only as corn bread or muffins. Italian polenta is not my thing.
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee - No, what makes it special?
100. Snake - No. Not even as roadkill.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Sweet Freedom!!

Tuesday morning and it's raining but The Kids Are Going Back To School!!

So my new routine is:

Up at 7am
Breakfast: (Today was two poached eggs, salad, carrot sticks a few drops of sesame oil and soy sauce.)
Dressed, kids ready, post workout meal prep.
Catch bus to school 8:40
Get kids set up in classes and then jog to gym (one mile)
Workout 90 minutes, shower, change (or stay sweaty, depends on weather. I prefer to change in winter, rest of year I'll wait until I get home.)
11:30 collect my Shorty from nursery (she's in preschool so only in for a couple hours.)
Home
Lunch - hopefully ready-made a la bento.
Housework, laundry, blogging.
Sassy home on the bus 3:30
Dinner prep
Dinner at 6pm
Tidy up bedtimes, me time and try my hardest not to graze through the kitchen.

I love a routine.

Just got my new gym music off iTunes - I love Podrunner! And there's a new mix every week. Best gym motivation for me.

10:27

ARG!! So I've not had a chance to get to the gym because of trouble at the post office delaying my sending two parcels. They were both 100 grams over 2kg which doubles the price of shipping. So I'll have to take both boxes home, take something out and then resend. £21 is bad enough for 2kg, but £43 for 2.1 kg is just taking the piss. Also I've found out that council workers may go on strike tomorrow, so great! Kids are back to school one day, ONE DAY, and the teachers threaten strike? Fucking arseholes.

I'm also determined to not take one inch of shit from any of the Mafiosa in the PTA this year - those bitches are going to find a flea in their ear if they try to pull their clique shite on me or my daughter this year. One of them - the worst in the lot who looks like a frog and suffers with Gollumitis (Her babies are her precious!(got that from a friend this weekend and love it!) who hates me (Because I told the principal her special needs kid* was saying vicious and nasty things to Sassy like "Everyone hates you. No one is your friend. You should just leave. You're ugly and the stupidest girl in school." and so on, and how dare I - don't I know she's special? Well no. As far as I can see she's an even worse asshole than you. The class assistant overheard the MiniFrog saying these thing to Sassy.)and first thing FroggieFace did when she arrived this morning was put her huge ass right in front of me to block me out from the kids - and in doing so put herself (This woman is grossly obese and has a newborn in a pram with her) in the walkway so others had to squeeze by her and risk kicking the pram, to walk to the other side of the playground. So I pushed past her and said "Yes I forgot I was completely invisible - why else would you stand there. No worries, I see someone I want to say hi to over there. You stand here so people don't have to trip over you." and walked off waving to a friend. The stupid cow. Really how old are these bints? I'll have to come up with names for them so I can get out the sheer level of bullshit the group of them come out with. I know I'm not alone in this - these harpies exist at every school gate.

So I went to grocery store for apples. Then walked home in the pouring rain. Soaked right through by the time I got back to the house. Coffee, a handful of peanut M&Ms - aren't those wee bastards addictive? They must put a drop of heroine in every one. It's in the paint they stamp the "M" with. I'll wager.

Rain stopped just as I got to my front door. Who wants to bet it'll start again as I go to pick up Shorty from nursery?

*She has a very mild cerebral palsy which I never even knew about until last week. apparently the only symptom is her curled right hand. Her mind is as sharp as any other kid's so there's no excuse for her bitter tongue. While talking to my Friend (I'll call her Pristine as her house is enviously spotless and shiny) last week it came out that FroggieFace had an altercation with her as well last year as their kids had had a falling out. Only this time FroggieFace went and shouted at Pristine's daughter on the playground in front of all her peers "Don't you ever talk to my daughter like that again!" and so on. Pristine called her up and told her she was giving her the same advice she'd giver her daughter - and if she ever did she was getting the school involved. Nutter!

Monday, August 18, 2008

SBD Murder Most Fab by Julian Clary

I got to read a book this weekend! Lucky me. Why I chose this one over all of the wonderful ones I recently received from JMC I don't know. I guess because I bought it earlier the same day and felt obligated. It was on sale.

I'll admit this isn't the kind of book I normally go for, but since it was a celebrity author my curiosity got the better of me. I'm not sure if Julian Clary is known outside of the UK (or NZ, Aus) but he's certainly an interesting character. Here's a sample:


Here he talks about the book...



Synopsis:

Hello, I'm Johnny Debonair and this is my book - "Murder Most Fab". Buy it. You won't regret it. Everything that has happened so publicly is explained. Of course, I'd prefer it if you remember me as I was at my height, before the past caught up with me so spectacularly - TV's Mr Friday Night with an enviable lifestyle and the nation at my feet. My fame might have looked easy to you at the time, but getting to the top of the celebrity ladder is hard work. It took talent, beauty, commitment and, uniquely in my case, a number of unfortunate deaths. If we were being picky you might describe me as a serial killer, but I really don't see myself that way. It sounds trite to say 'one thing led to another' but it's true.As you'll discover I owe something of my rise and my fall to three individuals: my mother, an eccentric country girl who taught me exhibitionism by hanging naked from the clocktower of Hythe town hall; Catherine, my best friend, then partner in business - a devil in red heels, who, in her clear Essex accent, taught me how to 'look after number one'; and, Timothy, who broke my heart and caused me to seek refuge in sex, money and celebrity.

But in the end you have to take responsibility for your own actions. No one was forcing me, were they? I hope you, the public, can forgive me and enjoy this sordid tale for what it is - my final entertainment for you.




So what did I think of it? Well I read the whole thing, I didn't throw it at the wall, and it was finished in under 48 hours. It's rather well paced, full of surprises and well plotted. The thing I'll rave about is how well Clary makes a well rounded character. Even the lesser characters aren't simple cardboard Queens.

Johnny Debonair is immensely naive and so easily led and desperately lazy, unwilling find any kind of self-reliance that it isn't any wonder he ended up the way he did. It's shown from the beginning that he's been put away for murder. He ends up the devoted victim of a highly manipulative woman. Talk about bad luck in choosing friends. But considering the boy was raised by a mother who lives in the pages of Beatrix Potter and has sex wantonly all over the Kent countryside...no no. It's so easy to blame the mother. Here's the big problem with Johnny Debonair: He can't say no.

He can't tell Catherine the Witch no, or anyone else. He waffles and sludges along and only finds pride in his abilities as a prostitute. The paragraph about how he can manipulate his sphincter for optimal pleasure is forever burned on my retinas. When one of his clients confesses to having terminal cancer and only weeks to live he asks Johnny to fulfill his ultimate fantasy: to be strangled to death. Johnny can say no until Catherine gets her hooks in and seduces him into reconsidering with freedom from debt and a better life and think of Poor Georgie suffering in agony in a lonely hospital and we wouldn't want that, now would we? Life would be easier with the payout for such a favour.


He does it. They say if you can kill once, killing again is easy. Isn't that the truth! Opportunities come along that send the very handsome Johnny onto TV, something he discovers he's rather good at. Will his past come back to haunt him? Only if the squealer wants squealed on. Stalemate on that front, plus his public image is one of a straight man. We've seen that story before, now haven't we *cough*MichaelBarrymore*Cough*EltonJohn*cough*?

There's an enduring love story, as poor Johnny got his heart broken by his True Love and has never recovered.

From the beginning we know things aren't going to end up good for Johnny, but the whole time I kept hoping for him to catch a break, smarten up, get a bit of happy. It doesn't come. He even pushes it away or snorts it up his nose. I guess the happy ever after comes in it's own way; he's resigned and content with accepting the punishments for what he's done. He makes no excuses, takes full responsibility. He actually takes too much responsibility as Catherine really deserves a cell of her own. The ending, was a bit contrived. OK it was quite a bit contrived and I had a "Gee now that's convenient." roll of my eye. Don't all posh homosexual men of a certain age have huge Hungarian toyboys who carry chloroform? Sure they do!

I was rather impressed so far as a celebrity turned author novel goes. Like I said, his ability to flesh out a character is great. I know I'm enjoying a story when I'm trying to cast the characters in the movie. It's not excellent, and I'll probably forget it in a while, but for a cheap weekend thrill it was great.

OH - I seriously hate the title though. Nothing about the murders has a sense of justified murder. I never thought any of them deserved it. It's not like Little Shop Of Horrors, and I wish it had been. It was euthanasia followed up with covering their asses. Not "fab". None of those killed off were particularly fab either. So the fab-ness is just for a cute yet ill-fitting title. Also it's touted as a comedy, but I didn't find it particularly funny. I felt sympathetic and sorry for Johnny and wouldn't call it a comedic tome. Then again, so far as gay sex and rent boys and Queens and all of that goes, I'm fairly naive, so maybe I just missed the joke. Some of the jokes were just plain icky, which I wouldn't have expected any less from Julian Clary.

No no, honestly - I liked this book. Julian Clary has a new book being written at the moment and I wonder what this one will be about.

If you're curious, he gives an interview about the book on YouTube too.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Coping.

It's a bad day. I've not had a day like this in a long while. Most of the time things are fine. I manage and smile. Today I keep catching myself being blah and saying "I feel miserable. Why am I so miserable?" Well of course there is no reason. It's that depression again. Such an anonoyance. I'm not a depressive person; or more to the point I don't want to be a depressive person. I'm a happy person. Optimistic. I really am. But this misery just has by the hand right now and seems to be taking me for a walk.

Have you ever seen the movie "How I got A Head in Advertising"? you could use that as a way to describe depression. Where the depression takes over and you're still there, hidden, crying out for help. Granted that movie is an extreme example in my case, but for others it very apt.



Boils = depression. He ends up with a boil on his neck that talks to him, becomes his evil side, takes over his body and life and the "boil" then fills him with medicine trying to kill him off.

We're going out for a date tonight. Going for an Italian dinner and then to see The Dark Knight. I want to be excited, but for me the depression becomes blankness. I lack emotion. I become a Vulcan. No happy, no sad, no anger, no nothing. I blank out. Get through the day like a fog. I hate it. I should be excited. I should be looking forward to our first date in months. to seeing a movie and eating in one our favourite restaurants. But I'm a bit Meh. Shrug. Okay. I hope no one notices. I'll put on a smile, make the right noises but really my heart's not in it.

I must do things that make me happy. Today I got a bit drastic and cut my hair. Not much, just bangs. I've not had bangs for over ten years. I just looked at myself and thought - I need bangs. So I pulled out the scissors and did the deed. Came out nice. I put on make-up. Coco Chanel. Dressed comfortably. Tidied up. Folded laundry. Watched the rain fall. Put on jewelry. All of these things make a difference.

The one thing that's really bugging me is my memory is shit just now. I can't remember where I've put things, or when I've done things. I freaked myself out yesterday because when I came back home from the gym and went to use the toilet; the seat was up. Why was the seat up? Searched the house in case anything was stolen, but no. Nothing disturbed. Weird. I must have cleaned it before I left. then today I saw the bag of compost that was on the lawn was moved - I didn't move it. I don't think I moved it...did I move it? Can't remember. did I call so and so? Nope, forgot. Did you look into that thing I asked you to? Nope, forgot. Did I put the chicken out to thaw? Nope. Did I change the sheets? Nope. Did I give the kids a shower? Nope.


got to go...get ready for my date. We leave in a half hour. I forgot to check the clock.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Ghost Cat

I had a visit from the Ghost Cat the other day. I love visits from Ghost Cat. I don't know which cat it is, or if it's different cats each time, but every so often I get a visit.

Enter the number one challenge to my Atheism. Unexplained Ghost Cat. Well actually there is an explanation...It's all in my head, but where's the fun in that?

So what happens and has happened for many years is this; just as I'm falling asleep, my senses pick up on a cat entering the room. If you own a cat, you'll know what I'm talking about. The sound is usually the purring from the floor near my bed. The sudden feeling of a gentle pounce on the bed and still, tentative moments where the cat holds its position, expecting invitation or rebuke. Then comes the cat feet walking along or on my body, the gentle kneading to prepare the comfy spot and then the settling in to join me for sleep. This is the basic scenario.

Just so you know, we don't have a cat here in Scotland and never have. So I've been cat free since 1995 because Husband is very allergic. There could be something in that, as well because I love having a cat. I didn't even know I was a cat person until we had a cat, and I really loved sharing my home with cats.

The most recent visit on Saturday night had the cat jump up on my pillow - I could even feel the pillow depress under their weight. She walked (How I know it's a she I don't know) a couple steps along my head and then lay on my pillow covering part of my face in warm furriness. Very intrusive cat this time. I actually laughed it was such an affectionate toppling over - again if you have cats, you'll understand. I enjoyed the sensation of sharing my pillow for a wee bit and then fell asleep.

So what is this about? Is it a real visit from one of my past cats? There's a few to choose from. I remember the first visit from Ghost Cat was when I was a teenager and I'm pretty sure it was my sister's cat, as all of our cats were still alive then. Then my favourite cat died when I was 18 and the visits came frequently for a while. Then I had nothing for years until one day when I was pregnant, feeling rather awful and in my bed for an afternoon nap and Ghost cat came for a cuddle up behind my knees - I remember so clearly the pull of the blankets over my legs from the cat's weight but I was frightened if I moved to correct it the moment would disappear.

Later it was again during an afternoon nap, when I was pregnant with Shorty, and it was a lovely afternoon, bright and sunny. I'd set the alarm to wake me so I could have a light sleep and this cat was very brazen about pinning me into my place and nuzzled up at my crotch so it was impossible to roll over - which at final weeks of pregnancy, back sleeping isn't very comfortable at all! But it was Ghost Cat so I stayed put. Can still hear the purring. I've had a couple cats who made their cuddles a bit of discomfort in regards to where they slept, and it was usually right between my legs because when I was young I liked to sleep on my front, limbs splayed out. I can't do that now - frustrating really but for some reason it really hurts me back now, oh and Husband doesn't appreciate the splaying out bit.

I can hear all you Freudians now. Don't think I've not considered those theories either. Perverts really. The most likely explanation is that I'm in that vulnerable suggestive time of 'Tween sleep and I am actually dreaming, but aware enough to still have a connection to my surroundings, so I feel awake and experiencing the dream as real.

I don't know what it is, but I must admit; I love it when Ghost Cat comes for a snuggle.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Because It's Expected!

It's not a stolen MeMe if the person you got it from expects you to take it.

Pinched Expected to take Meme From Roxanne (No link backs because she's a spy)

Jump to Comments

1. What is your occupation right now? Housewife - DON'T JUDGE ME!

2. What color are your socks right now? Barefooted.

3. What are you listening to right now? Paper Mario.

4. What was the last thing that you ate? A Yum Yum (It's like a twisted honey glazed donut). Bad me. I blame stress from In-laws visit.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Yes, but not legally.

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Mother-in-Law

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Absolutely! Lots and lots.

8. How old are you today? 36. Don't feel a day over 25 though.

9. What is your favourite sport to watch? Rugby. All the grunting, aggression, bum slapping, mud, shoving, running, mud, blood and there's always one player who gets his trousers ripped off.

10. What is your favourite drink? Water. How Lame! But I like a little juice in it. Tea and milk. Gin and Tonic. OH - Iced Tea! I love proper iced tea.

11. Favourite food? Sushi.

12. What is the last movie you watched? Brewster McCloud. I don't remember much about it, but was surprised to see Shelly Duvall so young! I thought she was younger than she is.

13. Favourite day of the year? New Year's Day.

14. How do you vent anger? I get sarcastic, decimate hedges with pruning shears or clean.

15. What was your favourite toy as a child? I had an awesome Weebles Treehouse that I loved. I also had Lincoln logs. Barbie.

16. What is your favourite season? Fall. Crisp, cool and I love waking to frost and wearing knit sweaters.

17. Cherries or Blueberries? Cherries till I shit myself!(Rox said it best. I've actually done this)

18. Do you want your friends to add this meme to their blogs? Absolutely!

19. Who is the most likely to respond? Lyvvie. IDunno! I love surprises. (prolly none of the buggers. No wait! Jomamma has a new blog! She'll do it as a get to know Jomamma!)

20. Who is least likely to respond? The numbers are plenty.

21. Living arrangements? Lovely the way they are. So far I'm content to be living.

22. When was the last time you cried? I got a bit choked up when the Korean power-lifter didn't make the world's record. I'm sure women's floor exercises in gymnastics will have me all emotional. (I'm not much of a crier, more of a fighter)

23. What is on the floor of your closet? I have no clue. I know there's some hand weights, a box of bank statements...other than that I'm stumped. Dust!

24. Who is the friend you have had the longest relationship with that you are sending this to? I'm not sending this to anyone, it's out there in the open - Can't we erase this question? Obviously this was an old chain letter e-mail that someone was too lazy to alter for blogs. I'm deleting it. Better yet - anyone who steals this must delete this question!

25. What did you do last night? Watched more sex on TV shows. Girl's Guide to sex part 2, Sexcetera, CSI*, and Kinky And Proud! In the UK after 9pm almost anything goes. After 11pm it's a free-for-all. *This wasn't a sexy episode, just in-between sex shows but good.

26. What inspires you? Failure. I hate to fail and often get a "I'll show you" attitude. Once I win however, I usually quit.

27. What are you most afraid of? Death. Mine, loved ones, yours. Death.

28. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Just give me beef and I don't care about the rest, I'll eat anything in a burger.

29. Favourite dog breed? Greyhounds or Jack Russell I can't decide.

30. Favourite day of the week? Monday - the day of peace and quiet when everyone else goes away.

31. How many states have you lived in? One.

32. Biggest Life lesson? Let the other person have the last word if it's so important to them. It doesn't mean you've given in, changed your opinion or that you're not as passionate about the subject; it just means you're less of an argumentative, nitpicking, shit-stirring asshole.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

Conversations...

(We're watching a commercial for Sicilian lemon sorbet...)

Me: It's always Sicilian lemon now. What's so good about a bloody, fucking Sicilian lemon?

Husband: Ew. I don't want anything to do with a lemon that's bloody or fucking.

Me: *smirk* What makes a Sicilian lemon any better than any other lemon?

Husband: They're in the family.

Me: *giggle*

Husband: Eat my fuckin' lemons or you're gonna get bloody.

Me: *ROFL*

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Hormones and Retrospect

The problem with the internet is it seems to be a tool that won't allow me to forget my past. But I know that's my issue. the internet has all it's glories and bullshit to entertain forever ad nauseum. But as I've had a past that I'm never going to be proud of, run away from and some days, like today, can't forgive. I hate the internet because there it is; the magnifying glass of opinion and judgment bearing down. Come now - who gives a shit about me out there? *tumbleweed* Aye, that's what I thought.

Apparently I'm paranoid. I can see the signs and damn they're coming early. The words in my head making me feel fearful, wanting me to shut down, close shop and hide away in my home. I mean I was in the kitchen cleaning the oven, feeling annoyed because the steam buggy died and I had to do the deed by hand. Since I have the steam thingie I don't scrub the oven as often as I ought to and so it was a real fucking chore, let me tell you. Not That You Care! I am so dull. There - see now the self-esteem is shrinking too. Soon I'll be defensive and argumentative and push everyone away all the while pining because I have no friends and no one loves me. I'm like a frigging teenager again. And it's only ovulation! Usually I get a Goddess complex and think I'm awesome but not this time. Stand back, steer clear; completely not interested, you fucker. All of you fuckers. Lemme be.

I sometimes hate being a woman. Even worse is the psychology degree which spins my paranoia tighter and makes me proper coo-coo in the coconut.

Scrub more burnt on shit from the oven. Scrub scrub. Where have my fingerprints gone?

The fact I can see the symptoms, the fact I'm aware of them helps. It really does. Heart palpitations, hot flashes. Could be early early menopause. Who knows. Who cares. I will not go on meds again. I can do this without adding more chemicals. Although some IV caffeine or speed *smack my hand!* would be nice.

For fuck sake this shouldn't be happening until mid-September! What am I going to do when we go to Australia and the seasons are all fucked up and my internal depression meter won't know when to send the crazies? Maybe it'll be a good thing. I should be. It will be.

Can't talk much about Australia as it turns out someone from the office reads my blog and went asking questions. Promises to keep quiet but if there's one then there could be more. I wanted a blog to be all anonymous with and I'm so damned bad at it! The anonymous part. I think I'm an acceptable blogger. Although sitemeter has a different opinion.

Then again I did take pictures of the dirty and clean oven because I thought it would be blog worthy. I am fucking crazy.

Right! Kids go back to school in two weeks. Husband goes back to work next week. I get my house back to myself in two weeks. Two weeks. I'll keep telling myself. Actually - 10 days. Normality resumes, peace and quiet and stress free gyming and all of MY Life For Me and Not Everyone Else comes back in ten days. I can keep the shit for ten days.

Sciatica or not I have to go to the gym tonight or I'm going to freak the fuck out. I have to write. I have to write. Why do both activities make me feel like I'm abandoning those who rely on me? Why would anyone be fool enough to rely on me for anything?

Why the Fuck are they playing Kate Bush right now when really I need something I can dance to. Headache! Babooshka my butt.

I'm going to play Classic Cheap Trick and feel all nostalgic for a while until the babies cry.

Monday, August 04, 2008

Too much Sex on TV this weekend

I watched two rather interesting shows this weekend all based around sex. It seems as years go by the line between what can be shown on TV and what can't fades to an erased pencil mark and it may as well be everything goes. Now that I remember - there were three shows. There you go, I've become so desensitized I completely forgot about the cock show.

So Friday night was this show about men having hang ups about the size of their cocks and the "medical" doohickies out there to help men enlarge their penises. Things that look like leg braces, but for the penis and it's supposed to stretch the skin and give an extra inch in appearance. Appearance. From talking to these men, the thing they wanted most was to show others they had more when flaccid as opposed to having a bigger cock for sexual reasons. Ok a couple did say they wanted to make sex more pleasurable for their partners, but once the partners were interviewed not one said they'd had any problem with the size of their man's cock. The show talked about when in the men's lifetime the psychological whirring of insecurity about cock size comes around and it all seems to start in school gym showers. When boys see what other boys are packing and lacking. This show even convinced a local rugby team to strip off and line up to show their cocks. All of them looked rather similar - in fact after seeing so many cocks during the run of the show the odd looking ones became more interesting. But to them, the team, seeing each other with the focus on their cocks, they began to tug themselves, or stretch their penis down to make them look longer. Was very interesting from a psychology POV. The expert Dr. who was convinced all these contraptions were hooey was the creepiest man I'd seen in a long time. Really. Not the sort of fellow I'd ever want to strip down in front of. Wish I could remember the name of the show...

Then I watched A Girl's Guide To Sex in the 21st Century (Originally aired in Fall 2006). This was a good concept ruined with rather blatant pornography. I caught the show that was to demystify the vulva (which they kept calling the vagina) and clitoris and did plenty of up close crotch shots of how the clitoris is individual to each woman as a penis is to men. Then they'd have a voice over with information while we watched a couple doing it doggie style. As it was the clit show I'd have expected to see a reach around but, no. there were lesson for men on how to perform oral sex and well...it was a show that tried to come off as informative and medical and respectable but really it was smutty. Very disappointed really and I didn't bother to watch the whole show.

Finally, last night I watched WI Guide to Brothels. It was an interesting show about who members of the Women's Institute were seeking out ways to make brothels legal in the UK in order to protect prostitutes and their clients from violence and disease. The WI has a reputation of being a club for old ladies, which it is. So for them to champion legal prostitution is shocking enough. To have a couple of representatives go on a world tour to visit legal brothels in Holland, America and New Zealand was eye opening. Brothels are illegal in the UK, but they still exist, often with the knowledge and secret support of the local police. They even pay taxes. It was rather well done and the ladies ran the show, where the UK reporter who was investigating the seedy underground of prostitution, phone sex reality (the woman earns .10p per minute!) and all with the goal of how to create the perfect brothel. The end, well was a let down. they'd managed to find a loophole in the law that allows for a mobile brothel. So of course I was thinking of the Brothel Bus! The Shag Wagon! What do they come up with? A caravan. Camping Cat House. Really, a double decker bus would've been so much better.

So yes. A lot of sex on TV this weekend.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

We had loads of fun!

It was a great day yesterday in Edinburgh - hot and a bit muggy but then a quick rain would come and cool everything off. Splendid! We met at the castle and had to queue for forty minutes because the Fringe Festival starts this weekend and it's official onslaught of the tourist in Edinburgh. Loads of Italians, Germans and Chinese tourists with their rows upon rows of tour buses. The whole town was a buzz of excitement and activity.

Wanderings around the castle, tourist dodging; I'd never been there when it was so busy! There was a wedding going on in the tiny chapel within the castle - and I do mean tiny as it can only be ten feet wide and fifteen feet long. But the wedding party was lead in by a piper and we figured it must have been a soldier (The castle is a military fort, not a royal house) and was a shame to not get a peek in.

We then went out for lunch at Frankensteins which was rather good - burgers all around. Sassy was disappointed that the Monster didn't make an appearance, and the bubbling jars over the bar that normally housed a couple brains were empty but still had webby brain bits dried on the side.

A hike up to the graveyard across from Calton hill where some famous Scots are buried and there's a statue of Abe Lincoln that I like to go see whenever I'm homesick. We freaked ourselves out a bit by staring up at a huge tower in the middle of the graveyard which created the optical illusion that the tower was tipping over and about to crush us. We found the poetic writing on some of the stones amusing - one in particular which I'd not read before was a bit of gossip about how Sir Walter Scott had attended the gent's funeral and it was his first public appearance since "His greatest misfortune" which had me curious about Scott's life...which isn't the point of a gravestone really - it should be about the guy who died. Not an etched in stone name dropping. Sylvana took pictures of it, I hope she'll share. I was sad to see the graveyard had been hit by vandals since my last visit in March.

We then went up to Calton Hill and the weather was glorious. We took a hike up the 143 twisting steps to the top of Calton Tower and enjoyed some wonderful views. I was a bit self conscious about being out of breath at the top, but then others said they felt queasy (Maybe it was the heights?) so I - sicko that I am - felt better. After the tower we sat in the grass, had a laugh as my kids were full of the sillies and made pig piles on us and then played duck, duck, goose. Actually it was egg, egg, goose because that's what Shorty called it.

Mile walk along Princes street to have coffee and a cake at Starbucks and hung out there until closing at 8pm. Hugs goodbye, e-mails to pass. Sassy found Sylvana's son fabulous and they'll become pen-pals after spending a lot of time talking about Pokemon, so Sassy was instantly his BFF.

I was so happy my kids behaved themselves. They were honestly the best I'd ever seen them - so charming and fun! It was a rather stress free, pocket-emptying great day. It was great to bum about the city with easy-going happy people. Anyone else coming to Scotland?? Just remember to bring sneakers.

Now I can confess my crazy for the day. I wanted to wear my pink and white top. Something bright and flattering. But I forgot to wash it. I made everyone get up early so we could get into town for 9am and I could shop for a nice top before we went to meet Sylvana and the Fam. I went to the Gap and was so disappointed!! It was the dullest collection I'd ever seen there! It was all basics and the only bright colour was this obnoxious magenta sweater that would've look awful on me because of my extra red cheeks. I asked a Gap assistant for some help - whatcha got with colour? I have little time! How about this magenta jumper? No. This red wrap around cardigan? No, wrap sweaters look awful on my figure. How about a button down blouse? Nope, Gap tops don't button over my bust. Then she says to me "You're not very confident are you?" I tell you - dear blog - I nearly smacked her. I nearly jumped over the counter and shook her for being so insipid. Retail! You don't make such comments when trying to make a sale! You just don't say such a thing to a stranger. But as time was running out, I grabbed a white v-neck t-shirt and a petrol blue ribbed cardigan. Husband took one look and said "Nice jugs." So I spent the whole day wondering if everyone was staring at my chest. I also hoped they didn't notice the new clothes smell. Also the white t-shirt was a bit more lingerie than cotton tee so even when I was extra warm I wouldn't take off the sweater and felt overheated and sweaty a couple times.

But all in all a brilliant day. I hope no one saw the crazy within.

OH! And I didn't cuss once! I mouthed the word fuck once but it was well placed. Otherwise I was very well behaved, too.

Friday, August 01, 2008

EEEEeeeeeee!!!

I'm meeting Sylvana in Edinburgh tomorrow and I'm excited and nervous and I really hope she doesn't think I'm a big fat dork! Castles, lunches at weird pubs and wanderings around the city with blogger friends. It's going to be great!!

I hope it doesn't rain.

I wish they'd call already.

I hope I didn't screw up my phone number.