Busy Bee - That's Me

I know, I know... how on earth can I be busy when I'm at home with an 8 month old who basically sits where I put him until I pick him back up again - or until he loses his balances and topples over. But, let me tell you, I am busy!

The Little Man keeps me busy even if he's on the floor playing with a toy ... or his own toes. It's sort of the same thing to him. and I have stuff to do for the wedding, christmas presents (to wrap), keep the house presentable, cook, go for walks, laundry, grocery shopping.........

AAAAaaaaaaaarrrrrrgh!

Please bear with me while I try to organize myself and get to the bottom of the "to do"-list. I'll get there. Soon. I've got to. Dear God, I really hope so!

Aaaaaaaargh!!

Sunday: a long white tanktop, a black top over that, underwear (obviously), socks and jeans. All fine and dandy.

Monday: a black top, a short glittery purple cardigan, underwear (obviously), socks and same jeans but...

BUT...

1,5 inches missing to be able to button the jeans. 1,5 Inches!! Do you you know how much that is??

Ok, so the baby, and therefore tummy, has moved down a bit or - in proper terms- the baby is more 'engaged' but 1,5 inches overnight?!

JEEZ!

Not So Wunderbra

Here's something and I hope I'm not the only girl feeling like this; I really, really dislike going underwear/lingerie shopping - much to Boyfriend's dismay and disappointment.

I mean, so much to choose from and don't get me started on sizes. A size that's fine in one bra is too big or too small in another. It's a constant on/off with clothes as I need to see what they look like under clothes. AND why is it always so horribly HOT in the fitting rooms? Fine, it doesn't need to be cold but we're talking temperature in the high 20s here. Not so nice when you constantly are taking things off/on.

AND - as if this wasn't enough, the ones you think will be fine often turn out to move by their own accord once you start walking around. The back-strap moves up and the cups start to slightly twist to one side - and I do not have freakishly shaped or strangely placed breasts!! This only happens after you've cut off the tags so you can't return the darned things. There's £25 quid down the drain as I have no desire to keep tugging on the bra to get it to stay where it bloody well should be anyway.

And yes, I have done the whole bra-fitting thing and the bras I bought were fine but it's not as if I am able to go around getting same size in different bras and for them to fit - even from the same friggin' store!! And I do not have the patience or time, for that matter, to go through this every single time I need a bra. I usually end up with x-number of the same bra in different colours but it would be sooooo nice to be able to enter a store, find my size [and try it on if there's time] and just buy it without having to drag several different sizes of the same bra into a swelteringly hot fitting room.

Could someone sort that out for me! Pretty please!

Yummy in my Tummy

I made pancakes for dinner tonight.

I love pancakes.

Pancakes rule.

I think I'd kill for pancakes if had to.

I'd probably even dump Boyfriend if he
ate my share of the pancakes.

In fact, there's no "probably" about it...

In Which There Are Serious Ramblings On and On and...

Haven't written in ages. Been bored. With myself. With Life. With work. Basically everything apart from Boyfriend. You could probably say that I have been a bit clingy. As I haven't known what to do I've looked to Boyfriend for "help". Poor thing has been very nice although he did say he'd be - and I quote; "a bit annoyed" if a psycho killed me.

A bit annoyed... Gee, thanks honey! Love you too!

Never mind, he's one of those who is a constant optimist and all about giving a person another chance. I am not one of those. You fuck up? You've fucked up! Want me to feel sorry for you? Only if it was something I could understand. If you get hurt while doing something stupid - drunk driving, fooling around while being under the influence of whatever...Nope. Don't come looking for sympathy, empathy from me...

I guess my approach could be considered a tad bit psychopath-like... which is why all "what type of person are you?"-tests always come up as Boba Fett - lone, psycho etc etc. Am I the only one thinking Boba Fett is a bit of a hottie?!

How did I get on to this?? I'm tired. It's been a long week. Or rather, it felt a lot longer than 5 "normal" working days. My job is mind numbingly boring. B.O.R.I.N.G. But being at this stage in life i.e. turned 30, already started over once, not doing what I trained to do (God, I miss my students in Sweden) means I haven't got all that many options. If I were to get another job I'd start all over in terms of pay (can it get any worse?), right to maternity leave etc.

No, I'm not pregnant but I have to start planning. Scary shit and it is especially scary being a 'tested' psychopath (although I'm not sure how formal and approved those internet tests are). But I'm nowhere near as bad as that octo-mom. I mean, is she fucked up or what??

6 kids, unemployed, surgically altered her face to look like Angelina Jolie, taught herself to walk and talk like Miss Jolie, nowhere to live with said 6 kids, lot's of debt. But hell yeah, she's an awesome candidate for having some sperminated eggs implanted - or 6 and two of those split into twins. Do they not test these people? Or, maybe she took the same test as me but her result wasn't 'Boba Fett' but one of those cuddly little Ewoks.

I'd rather be Boba Fett and not using my kids in a pathetic attempt to do... I don't know what octo-mom is trying to achieve but get your shit together!

I'm off to bed, getting my hair cut tomorrow. Wide fringe. yeeeeah

I don't think I'll ever read this post as it surely only
confirms my Star Wars personality.

In Which I Realise My Uselessness

Another year has passed and have I done the things I said I would? Probably not, which means I'll have a helluva lot of stuff to do if I all of a sudden find out I only have x months left to live. And as if that would not be stressful enough.

One thing I know I told myself was that I had to get better with exercising (read; lose weight - a lot!) but that has not happened. Well maybe a little bit but not enough.

Am I engaged? I'm not even going to answer that question..

Have I dared standing up to Boyfriend's parents? Again, a big fat N O... which, I'm sure, is how they see me.

Do I speak [a little] Mandarin? Not a word.

Did I dive with Great Whites in South Africa? Nooooooooo!

Have I found something that would 'replace' the interests I had in the 'old country? Nope. Have decided/realised I can't replace long walks in the forest with dogs/ cuddling horses on a big field.

Did I win millions of £s on the lottery? It was always a long shot...

Stop buying lottery tickets as never winning anyway? See item above.

Do I find 5 good reasons each morning to remain in England? Does Boyfriend x 5 count?

Shave my legs every morning? Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Isn't this depressing??

Swear less? Hell no!

Write one letter each week to my grandmother? I am ashamed of myself. Very ashamed.

Saved money? With all that nice stuff in the stores?!

Find a new calling like furniture-making? I painted a kid's chair for my niece for Christmas.

Have sex twice a day? In his dreams!

Do I live in a house? Credit crunch anyone?

Not getting myself worked up about things out of my control? My heart rate is constantly on severe stress i.e. being chased by Mike Myers in a space of 10 square metres...

Not taking anti-depressants? Last day of the year and I've made it so far - just.

Love Boyfriend a little bit more each day? We had that rough spot in April (thanks to Him) but yes - more than ever. So one thing that's gone to plan. Yeay for me!!

Become an auntie? YEEEEEES!

My very own pet? The Goose (in the river).

I guess the last few - more positive items - mean I am not totally Useless with a capital U but I wish they were all good ones. It could have been a lot worse though and I am very happy in respect of my family and the fact I am not on crack cocaine! I'll just have to keep working on the stuff I failed to do especially item 3, which is the scariest thing e v e r!! I'd rather eat a worm covered in pigeon poop!

Happy New Year Everyone
and
keep smiling!!

A little bit of this...

I took calls on my own today and did really well - I only had to ask Buddy for help on a few occasions. But - I also took a call from a lady who just wouldn't stop talking! I found out loads about her and felt like requesting an invite to her wedding before hanging up. Geez lady, I just look up security information on the system. I am not a wedding planner!

On another note;

Sacrebleu is an old French profanity, meant as a cry of surprise or anger. It would be equivalent to gosh, by Jove or stone the crows.

'Stone the crows' - I won't rest until I've come across a situation where I can use that particular phrase. Brilliant albeit useless!

In and Under the Bed With Ems

I sometimes ponder over the impact of things, or objects rather than things, and how our perception of an object can change from one moment to another. Or even how an object changes size from day to day. My arse is one of those things but I'll leave that for some other time and this time I'll stick to -

Our bed. I don't know what size it is apart from not being a King Size, maybe it is a Queen sized bed. It's a lot bigger than the one I have at home and fair enough - there's two of us now for which it caters exceptionally well. But sometimes it feels awfully small. Such instances are for example;

1) when Boyfriend's been out drinking with his mates and he comes home, falls asleep and somehow physically manages to snore in a way that makes you think you're sleeping with an ogre or a horrible, snarling, snotty orc. God, how I hate the "beer-snore"! On the other hand, it leaves me somewhat entertained in coming up with painful ways to make him roll over to his side. If you want a reliable trick: the nipple-pinch works a treat to get them to move and hopefully they won't remember it i the morning!

moving on...

2) when Boyfriend's sleeping heavily (without beer) and moves closer onto my side - for whatever reason - and I end up balancing on the edge of the bed at the same time as trying to move my pillow away from his reach so he can't drool on it. He's quite the drooler and I have therefore had to mark my pillow so I won't use his. Eurgh! He really ought to see someone about that.

But then there are moments when I feel the bed is way too big and those moments can be; 1) when Boyfriend's working nights and I'm left all alone in that huge bed. 2) when I'm standing before the task (as I will be tomorrow) of tidying up under it!

The space! I am acutely aware of the fact that I've been doing the kind of cleaning - usually before Boyfriend's parents are to visit - where you just kick loads of s*** under the bed and makes sure that the bedspread covers the gap between the bed and the floor. It's a type of cleaning I excel at.

The amount of junk that I'll find there is almost too unbearable to think of. I might have to have Boyfriend on call to send out a rescue team. Imagine the filth, dust and God only knows what else is rotting away under there! Sadly, it has to be done and I've appointed tomorrow to be The Day.

Pray for my safe return...

I'm pretending to cry...

Marcel Marceau - the guy who made mime into an "art"form - has died.

I'd say that he has a lot to answer to once he gets
to the Pearly Gates...

It's either the end of the weekend or the start of the next

Oh well, another weekend has ended. I don't know why I feel upset about that as I don't have a job to go to tomorrow so it's not a "Aaarrrgh Monday" kind of Monday. As my dream job didn't come through (I would have loved working at the vet station but it's their loss....) I signed up to an employment agency.

Those who know me also know that i can be quite picky about things so I picked the agency in the nicer area of town... Not only does it look nicer, it also advertise "nicer" jobs i.e. jobs that I can do. As much as I'd like to, it's just not possible for me to get a job as a HGV-driver (Heave Goods Vehicle) as I have trouble backing a normal small-ish car with a trailer hooked up. The darn thing always goes the wrong way and I'm always really worried about backing up too far which means that the last bit is the kind of jerky "Go!" "Stop" "Little bit more... And that is why I can't get a job as a HGV-driver. That and the fact I don't like driving on the "wrong" side of the road...

Anyway, I'd like to get a job so I can meet new people (and make some money). There are boundaries which one shouldn't cross with one's Boyfriend and discussing cute guys is one of them and I sometimes have The Need to just say "Yikes - look at that guy over there! I'd like to bite his tush..." I accidentally did it once and it didn't go down too well...

I could kill for some chocolate tonight - and some Skittles!

Another lesson learnt

I was dared to "image Google" a word without the Safesearch filter on... I wish I hadn't! *throwing up* There'll be nightmares for weeks, even years now! Oh Dear Me! I've gotta go hide under the duvet for a while...

When it's time to go to the gym...

I've pulled an arse-muscle by playing Wii...

That's sad!

Heavenly bliss in a bed!

You should never underestimate the feeling of new luxury bedsheets!

Lovely!

However, anything other than sleeping will have
to be done on the old sheets...

It's Wednesday and I'm a bit tired.

That's all I have to say - for now...

FYI

I've been told it's easy to check if I'm getting a bit snookered: Apparently I speak with an American accent after a few.

It's a bit worrying as there's usually someone asking me if I'm American [or Canadian] - and I'm not always drunk!

Useless knowledge

Jean d'Arc was burned at stake in Rouen France at the age of 19 on January 1st, 1431

Her year couldn't have started on a worse note but I'm sure she felt better about it when January 1st (in 1920) became Jean d'Arc day.