Want a Man? Get a Dog

Quick update on some of the other, non-Alfie men in my life:

Boyf believes Bertie loves me more than him and is jealous. This is because Bertie cries for me any time I go upstairs, take a shower, or am otherwise engaged, and the only way Boyf could get him to stop was by wrapping him up in a pair of my pyjamas. That's devotion for you.

Bertie has not barked yet, except for in his sleep, when he let out a series of baby yaps followed by an unconvincing growl and twitching paws. He also still makes a sucking noise as if he is feeding from his mum in his sleep. Too adorable.

'Muffin and I have had conflicting schedules over the past couple of weeks and have not had a decent gossip in ages! Is gloating over his swanky new mobile phone and counselling me on the wisdom (like what I did there?) of forwarding my soon-to-be new number on to Alfie.

MJ turned 25 and rather than shagging everything, went home early with his darling boyfriend, Spanky, and admitted he was happy to do so. I'm so proud.

Dedalus and I have not seen each other since the night we went out, despite many invitations and protestations on his part. Accused me of being cold and gets cross if I don't text him back quickly enough. We are in very weird territory indeed.

Have been texting Mybug on and off. Told him he looked good in his uniform, he replied: You'd look good in many uniforms. He called me up for a chat on Monday 'because there was nothing on the telly.' Mentioned seeing me and Dedalus out that Friday, said Dedalus was 'giving him daggers' and 'staring him out'. Also said I looked really drunk. Cheers, love.

Guillermo (sort of in my life?) is now a fully fledged grown up and is buying a flat! What what!

My lovely Dad is 52 today! Ordered him a special edition DVD of The Producers but it has not yet arrived. I predict that he will celebrate tonight by watching the Comic Relief does Fame Academy final. He loves him some reality shows.

Latest text from Yank: Good looks catch the eyes but good personality catches hearts. You're blessed with both! FLATTERED? Don't be, it was sent to me, I just wanted you to read it!

Oh! Darling

My mum has a really challenging job working with troubled teenagers in care. The way the care system in this country is managed is criminally messed up and as a result it's often difficult for people in the profession to make a difference. The kids my mum works with have really bad behavioural problems and they can often be abusive towards her and her colleagues. She's called terrible names on a daily basis and has been physically attacked. Despite this, she says the worst part of her job is dealing with the ineffective managers, whose priorities are all out of joint. Frankly, they sound like downright bullies, and clueless ones at that. That's why I love it when my mum tells me a story like the one she did yesterday about a shopping trip she made with one of her kids, D.

I know for a fact that D. is no angel and can be a nasty so and so when he wants to be, but in this story the dude sounds wicked. After a meeting in town, D. asked if he could pop into Dawsons, a music shop. My mum agreed and so they made their way there. D. informed her that he was well known in the shop and that they were expecting him to bring his grandmother in; for the purposes of this visit, she would be his grandmother. They also believed he was interested in buying a grand piano. So, D. plays every piano in the shop for the next hour or so and has all the staff fussing over him, until my mum announces: "Darling, I think we should go away and think about it. It is a lot of money, and I have a meeting I need to get to." D. replies, "Okay darling," sweeps his scarf over his shoulder, takes my mum's arm and sashays out of the shop. Then he goes to a jewellery store and pretends he wants to buy a diamond ring worth over a grand. How fun would shopping with him be?

D. also possesses excellent manners, opening doors for others and letting them pass through first, and walking my mum to her car every night. Once, when my mum was on the phone to my sister, he said: "Oh, I must speak with her," and they made fictional plans to go to dinner. He also once made my mum sit though a cabaret act he had devised.

Genius.

Away with the Fairies

I have just received a text message from my Uncle Yank. Yank is a strange case for an Uncle in that he is only two years older than my eldest sister and he lived with us for about four years with his then-girlfriend, now-wife, Li. We were once quite close and I had a real fondness for him, but we had this really bad argument one day that permanently shattered any bond we had. If you've not noticed, I'm kind of big on the whole earth-shattering ruptures with people. I don't know why, it's not like I look for it. I guess I'm kind of stubborn but I like to think I'm quite forgiving. My mum says I get it from my paternal grandfather, but since I totally adored him I can't help but take this as a compliment.

But I digress. It's not that there's this rift between Yank and I anymore, we get along fine but there's just no real closeness there. He actually kind of reminds me of Alfie in some ways... that's a bit worrying! Anyway, every now and then Yank will send me a joke via text like the one I forwarded to Alfie the first ever time I text him - the night I got totally hammered because of the adrenalin rush I had when he text me back. A couple of weeks ago, Yank sent me another joke. Now I normally never bother forwarding stuff like that on, but I considered sending it to Alfie because he liked the first one and well, any old excuse to text him really. But I didn't because I felt awkward about contacting him and wanted him to contact me first. Basically I didn't want to look like a saddo using any reason I could grasp hold of to speak to him again... Ahem.

But this joke? This joke I certainly could not send to Alfie right now without looking like a bunny boiler.

A married couple in their 60's are visited by a fairy who grants them both a wish. "I want to travel around the world with my darling husband," said the wife. Two tickets for a luxury cruise magically appeared in her hand. The husband said: "Sorry love, but my wish is to have a wife 30 years younger than me." So the fairy waves her wand and the husband becomes 92. Moral of the story: men who are ungrateful bastards should remember - fairies are fucking female.

As an aside, and on the subject of veering into stalker (were we?), I have worked out that Alfie's birthday is between now and the end of the month. How? Because his birthday is in January, and I know he's an Aquarius. The sign of Aquarius comes into play on the 20th of January. I swear I don't read his stars, I was reading 'Muffin's! You can start making that cuckoo noise now...

Merry Christmas. Discuss.

Hey everyone, hope you all had a great Christmas. Here's my quick recap: cool presents, though not a single pair of earrings, good food, people missing, yucky yucky cough medicine, more Mybug than I was bargaining for, morning text from Alfie signed 'lots of love x.'

Let's expand on those points. I know it's terrible of me to list these first, hello Material Girl, but the presents, they are the main feature of our family Christmas. We start opening on Christmas Eve, then at about 2 in the morning we call time, go to bed, and resume once we're all collected in the living room with cups of tea. Then the clan descends with more presents to exchange and we end up with about six rubbish bags full of wrapping paper.

So as naff as this sounds, my top 5 presents: D&G watch, gorgeous boots I picked out myself, GHD straighteners, Beyonce tickets, some nice lingerie I immediately imagined wearing for Alfie - bad, bad Chica.

Beyonce tickets people!! Ring that alarm!

Zero earrings, apart from the pair 'Muffin bought me. I thought that since I only had my ears pierced for the first time six weeks ago, that I would be inundated with the things. But not a single pair. It's possibly a good thing. I was just surprised, since people say they never know what to get me and that was the obvious choice.

Food. My mum cooked. Beautiful. We had a great Christmas dinner but we also had a champagne breakfast which was very civilised. We are normally so busy we don't get to eat until the main meal of the day, but this year we made time and it was lovely. Although, I think some people may have been anxious to get it over with. My niece Pebbles was like: "Can we do the presents now?!" as soon as she had finished the last bite.

A few of our family traditions have had to be adjusted due to some things that happened last year, so for parts of the day people who would usually be present were absent. Our family is a little fragmented and on days like Christmas Day you can really feel it. Plus, I really missed Puppy. And Boyf had to go to his mothers, which normally doesn't happen. Mostly, I missed my sister coming for dinner, though we did get to see her in the morning for our champagne breakfast.

I haven't had to take cough medicine since I was about 5 years old, but I have this awful cough and sore throat that keeps me awake all night. Yesterday, Boyf went to find an open chemist and returned with some drugs, including this really horrible cough medicine that I have to drink. Ick. Due to the sick, I spent yesterday watching Buffy DVDs and the Take That concert. Memories!! This does mean however that I am not scooping up any bargains in the sales this year. Which is poo.

I got a fair few texts from friends on Christmas Day wishing me a Merry Christmas, the first of whom was 'Muffin :) I managed to hold out and not text Alfie, so I was quite proud of myself. I also refrained from running out and buying him any presents. I probably would have cracked and text him on Christmas Day, because at the end of the day he is kind of my friend and I wanted to wish him a good day. But by eleven o'clock he'd text me so I was happy. I didn't reply until about 3 o'clock and haven't heard anything since. But I was pleased he'd bothered to text me at all and I know he likes spending time with his nephew on Christmas Day. We talked about him when we went out and it was the most unguarded I have ever seen him.

I also got a Merry Christmas message from Mybug. I was surprised because I don't really expect straight guys to think of things like that. I replied and said I hoped he got lots of nice presents under the tree. He replied 'Unfortunately none of them was you x.' Then at about one in the morning, after he'd clearly had a few drinks, he started texting me again. He wasn't even waiting for replies but kept texting stuff like 'I think you are so beautiful x x.' (I so need him to give Alfie some tips.)

Mybug: A good day, missing your sexy ass though, am badly pished x x
Chica: Ha I can tell! Missing my sexy ass? You haven't seen it for about 6 months! Are you out at the mo? x
Mybug: Yeah in party. I assume it's something that would still make me stop in my tracks x
Mybug: I think you are so beautiful x x
Chica: Yep you are defo pissed! Didn't think beer goggles worked unless you were there in person but there you go!
Mybug: Beer goggles, my ass you're a fittie! Trust me you rock. Are you out thursday? X

He invited me to a party but I leave for France on Thursday. The next day he text me and apologised for being rude and said he would make it up to me with some 'well deserved sweetness', but I assured him I'd heard a lot worse and thought he was funny.

Christmas Day was absolutely knackering, I'm still really tired and I can't believe I have to get myself together for travelling tomorrow! We are spending the New Year in our French village. It's just me and the Boyf going so we will get a lot of time together. I'm both happy and nervous about that. I will really miss MJ on New Years Eve for a start. And I will have to wish you all a very Happy New Year now because even though Wondy managed to blog from Thailand, there is one internet cafe in the surrounding towns of our French village, and I have never ever seen it open!

Oh, and do you remember I bought Alfie's cologne and didn't know what to do with it? I gave it to Boyf (I know! But hello, I couldn't keep my hands off him! Even my sister said he smelled gorgeous.) MJ also got it for Christmas. When Boyf opened it, he asked if Alfie or 'Muffin wore it. They actually both wear it but I just mumbled that I didn't know. Luckily he said he really liked it, but MJ broke all possible tension by announcing: "All Chica's bitches wear it!"

Love. Him.

Hope you've all enjoyed the holidays so far, Happy New Year! May all your wishes come true in 2007 xxx

Hermitude

I had a couple of parties lined up for last weekend but it turns out I am Little Miss Unsociable. Friday was Yank and Li's wedding party; we turned up at nine, and left to the sounds of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody "Goodbye everybody, I've got to go, gotta leave you all behind..." at exactly 11. It was pretty rubbish. I think I spent longer deciding what to wear. I did discover that my black satin heels go beautifully with my skinny jeans, so it wasn't all in vain. My Jennifer Aniston lookalike cousin was there with her boyfriend and her mates, and she was sporting brown leggings with her dress. My niece has taken to wearing leggings a lot too. I must confess to considering buying a pair myself, even though I have oft stated that they are the scourge of the Earth and should burn for all eternity. (What's wrong with me?!) I don't know why I'm thinking like this, but I can really just see a cute little outfit in my head, that particular dress with a pair of leggings and maybe black flats. (Is it a disease, is it catching??)

Then on Saturday, we went shopping and Boyf got some new trews - I spent most of the day sitting outside changing rooms (resisting the urge to buy leggings). We were meant to be going out for a meal and then meeting the new girl and David Hasselhoff fan extraordinaire, whose birthday it was, Studmuffin, and the girls at It's A Scream at 9. But we couldn't be bothered. It's the end of the month. It was cold. It rained a coupla times. That was enough to induce me to opt for a cosy night in instead. To be fair, Lila and Weezer pulled out first, so I'd have only known Studmuffin amongst all the people there, and he didn't go in the end 'cos I didn't :P

Sunday we shaved the dog.

Not expecting that one were you?

Rat Race

I'M BAAAAAACK.

And in work on my lunch hour, helping all the fresh new (young, nubile) students and feeling quite frisky for it too! Who says my job doesn't have its perks?

Well I can't believe my trip to France is over and it's a Monday just like any other. There are three new starters with us this week and I've already been told off for chatting to one of them, because we wouldn't want them to feel welcome or anything eh? Also got told off for chatting when I asked Helena a work-related question that took less than a minute for her to explain. It's mid September and I feel just like I'm back at school! Next I'll be sent into the naughty corner for chewing gum and kissing boys behind the bikesheds. Sometimes I want to pull Troutface about by her hair and scream - "I'm almost 25!!!!!" Well, 24 and a half.

But I digress. Since I've been back I've been catching up with everyone, unwrapping my new purchases, looking at lots of wedding photos and videos from Yank and Li's wedding, and cracking on with the old family tree. I've also already discovered two more jobs I'm gonna apply for, on my first day back. Tee hee.

Whilst we're on the subject, I'd just like to congratulate Guillermo on his swanky promotion and for purchasing a suit! (Pinstripe!) Now I know I'm getting old. Guillermo's 'The Man' - I never thought I'd see the day!

Now please excuse me, I must get back to catching up on Wondy's adventures and all the celebrity gossip I've missed. I really know the important things in life, me.

What's Up Doc?

Monday again. If I wasn't flitting off to France in two weeks time, I would be a very gloomy person indeed! The weekend was very chilled for me, watched the Big Brother finale - I love how Davina is pregnant for every other one - had a movie marathon, and took in enough stray animals to make Noah look like an amateur.

That last one needs explaining huh?

My sister took her kids and the bane of her life (Grinch) on holiday this week and left Anjelica's menagerie with me for safe keeping. After resisting the tantrums, hopeful requests, and letters to Father Christmas for eight years, my sister finally relented and allowed a pet to enter the super-clean zone that is her house. My sister has a problem with the mere suggestion of dirt. By the age of two, her children had been trained to fix the fringe of the living room rug whenever an errant footstep dared to mess it up. Actually, she did once allow them to keep a tiny little yellow bird in a cage. It was regularly bathed in soapy water.

However, for her eighth birthday, Anjelica received some living, breathing, fur-moulting, pooping, pee-all-over-your-new-sweater gifts. Gift 1) a floppy eared rabbit christened Thumper Jane. Gift 2) an inquisitive hamster going by the name of Princess. Gift 3) A butterfly farm, which currently houses approximately six cocoons. These are all currently residing at my address, along with 2 goldfish who claim to be Scooby and Scrappy. I am literally obliged to "put 'em up."

She'd have been better off buying a puppy. Am I right? At least you can walk a puppy. Goldfish are not happy about being dragged around the park to do their business. And speaking of puppies, I finally managed to get mine to fetch a ball. Unfortunately, the hamster was in it at the time.

Puppy is supremely unimpressed with the invasion of his space. He hasn't yet tired of barking, growling, scratching at the cages of, pretending to make friends with and then slyly nipping, our guests from the animal kingdom. See, in our house, Puppy is the King. He's the Godfather. He's got a paw in every pie, a dame in every port, he even has one of those little white caps that keep his dog food fresh. Not to mention a very cushy arrangement that keeps his happy pills and dog biscuits coming in nice and regular. And now he has these young bucks on his turf - well, you can imagine how he must feel, days away from his tenth birthday, to have to contend with such obnoxious intruders.

It's like a frickin' Quentin Tarantino movie in here right now!

Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?

So, last night our "family hairstylist" as she should rightly be known was at my house until ten o'clock coiffing and teasing the locks of my sister, aunties, and myself. Yes - Aunt Boy George went for the chop. And, as predicted, she hates it. She has vowed that she will not be going to the wedding (she will) and that she hates us all for making her do it (she does.) Her fancy gown is meant to be arriving today, so let's hope that it does and that it looks good on her for Chrissake!

The wedding is proving a massive headache for me and the Boyf, as we are trying to arrange it around a trip to France. We have option one: run away to France for two weeks and forget about the hassle of work, family dramas, deadlines, etc. and pay Yank £100 for the pleasure of not going. Or option two: go and hide in France for one week, curse ourselves for having to come back for Yank's wedding, drive the length of the country upon return, carpool everyone up to Scotland, blow an absolute fortune, possibly engage in some sort of dramatic confrontation/cry in my room because of Judas, then go back to work early.

Hmmmm, what would Jesus do?

Can you tell which one I'm leaning towards? It's actually not as easy as I'm making it sound. Despite my reservations about all family gatherings involving... well, my family, I would quite like to go and see Yank and Li get married, and it'd be cool to go to Gretna. But I would much rather go skipping merrily to our little French retreat and have the Boyf all to myself for a while. If I was particularly close to Yank and Li - the way I once was - then I wouldn't even be thinking about not going. If MJ got married for example, there's no way in the world I would miss it and I would probably cry a Loch at the ceremony.

Over the weekend I watched quite a few soppy films (The Family Stone, Just Like Heaven, Elizabethtown - chick flick marathon ahoy!) and all I kept seeing was this message about family family family, how important it is and how beautiful and yeuch, all that sort of thing. I would love to feel like that about my family. I like the idea of belonging to a big family, but I do belong to a big family and I'm only close to about four people in it. I know it was prompted by Hollywood saccharine overkill, but it was maybe the first time I'd thought about having my own family and nurturing something to be different from what I've grown up in. Although this is quite hilarious to me: the first time I even consider the possibility of any kind of joy coming from having children, the vision I see is not of a young family but a mature one, with grown up offspring and zero responsibility :P

The Family Stone is totally worth a look by the way, if only for the cringiest meet the parents moment in the world (not to mention SJP, Rachel McAdams, Luke Wilson, I could go on!)

For Whom the Bell Tolls

Congratulations go out to my friend Mrs. De Winter, who will be an actual missus by this time next year! I am chuffed to bits that she has found a lovely bloke to settle down and start a little family with. She sent me some really cute photos of her, her man and her gorgeous pup the other day and is doing so well. I love it when friends get in touch with such good news (she lives in Cumbria.)

I should also extend my congrats to Jojo who got engaged to her fella a couple of weeks before I went away.

It seems like wedding fever at the mo' with quite a few people I know either tying the knot themselves or getting hauled off to weddings right left and centre. Mrs. W also wrote in an email earlier this week:

"This time next year I'll be Mrs. W*****! Am I old enough to be "Mrs W*****"? What's Boyf's surname-I forgot? Are there any wedding bells for you? Maybe this will serve as a hint for him."

Well, I would just like to say that I will never be a Mrs. Anything as long as I can help it. I have always said I will keep my maiden name and that any children I have will also have my name. Now this isn't in accordance with some feminist ideal I have set for myself, as my surname has a patriarchal lineage of it's own in any case - being my dad's name, his father's name, his father before that, etc. I once had this discussion with my mum, who suggested I take her surname instead, but then that's her father's name, so there is really no escaping the male dominance of family names. But I don't see why if I should get married I would have to change my name while Boyf would just keep the name he's had from birth. Also, I am very proud to belong to my family and of being my grandfather's granddaughter, so would like to keep the name as a testament to him.

Funnily enough this topic came up the other day while I was having lunch with Studmuffin, and he was appalled that I intended to give my kids my surname. We eventually decided that since we had such opposing opinions on the subject that we should simply agree to disagree and cancel all our plans to have children together. I told him the same thing I always tell the Boyf: any kids he gives birth to can gladly have his last name.

As for this 'hint' business, I think I am way too young to get married, so any hints the Boyf might be getting from me would only convince him not to bother!

Couture Club

So. A multitude of happenings and tidings both good and bad flood into my brain as I sit with my fingers hovering thoughtfully over the keys. What to discuss first? Well, after such a challenging and horizon-broadening experience as renovating an 18th century French house and living in a tight knit community in the Northern Loire for almost a month, I must confess that one of the most prominent ponderings on my mind at the moment is: what to wear to my Uncle Yank's wedding next month. He's getting hitched to his long time love, Li, at Gretna Green. He is, I am afraid to say, a bit of a snob and quite openly judgemental. Therefore I have to ensure that whatever I wear/say/do does not reflect badly on the family. For this reason, I shall be surpressing any urges to sing karaoke, grope the Boyf in public, and sever Judas' head using those little tiny pins you stick flowers onto your lapel with.

So critical is Yank's judgement that my Aunt Boy George - so called because she once won a Boy George lookalike competition (and still bears a strong resemblance in the right hat) - is opting for a makeover. She is buying a very posh, light coloured frock (I have only ever seen her in dark colours, usually black, and never a skirt or dress.) She is going for a spray tan (her confinement indoors during daylight hours has lead to the popular belief she is at least partially vampiric.) And she is having. A haircut.

I realise this all sounds pretty standard to you, but if you consider that the last time my Aunt Boy George had a haircut was ten years ago for my sisters wedding, after which she hastily styled it back into her old 'do, then you may understand - as well as you can do without seeing the offence to follicles everywhere her hair actually is - at least a fraction of my surprise and delight.

While this may sound very superficial of me, I have to take a moment to record how well Aunt BG has been doing in turning her life around. She was never an alcoholic, but after my uncle died over a year ago from liver failure, she gave up drinking completely. She lost loads of weight, and looks and acts like a different person. She looks much healthier and seems happier. She has withstood peer pressure from her friends and family to start drinking again, and has shown true grit and determination to better herself. She wants to start travelling further afield and get more out of her life. Aunt BG, I applaud you!

So, I was thinking white trousers in the style of Heidi Range?

Learning to Juggle

How do people manage to have full time jobs and lives of their own? I mean, really, it's my niece Pebbles' 18th birthday on Friday, and I haven't shopped. I'm going away Saturday morning, and I haven't shopped. Nor will I start packing until Thursday night (maybe), I have two jobs to apply for tonight, plus it's my other niece's 16th birthday next week, and I haven't shopped (I need to get her present before I leave for France.) Plus I discovered, thanks only to a chance conversation with Potter, that it's my responsibility to find someone to cover my late night next week because I'm off. Which sucks because you basically have to ask for a favour every time you want time off. Am debating whether to inflict the Foot Fetish Perv on Potter. Oh, and I have to squeeze some time with my Snuggle Bunny in before I say au revoir for a whole week.

What do teenage girls like these days? I mean, apart from tequila and excessive dieting? Jewellery is always a good idea on big birthdays, but I have such different taste from Pebbles. Also we have the problem of The Event. Me and mine are currently at war with my sister's husband, otherwise known as The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. As plans currently stand, we may be going for an Italian, which should be fine because Grinch doesn't like Italian food. And if he does come, I could always sprinkle his carbonara with arsenic? Oops. You didn't hear that!

Had a funny moment with Foot Perv recently actually. I was helping some girl with the photocopier and he came to take over since it was my break, but she was photocopying pictures of men's bits - purely for medical purposes I understand. When Toes lifted up the page he was like "Oh!" and made all funny embarrassed noises in his throat. His face was a picture! I wonder if he was thinking "Why doesn't mine look like that?!"*

A horrible man came in yesterday and was really rude and aggressive to the lovely Hoggle. He was so obnoxious I wanted to slap him, and you really couldn't find a nicer person than Hoggle, so I really hope something Karmic, and preferably with very big teeth, bites him in the ass.

By the way, sorry MJ, I totally meant to post this link days ago (don't click on it when your boss is making the rounds... unless he's a W&G fan.)

*Speculation, for humorous purposes only and not intending to suggest that I have any actual knowledge of the state of Foot Perv's wanger.

Stand and Deliver

Even though I have just sent a text to Guillermo bemoaning the compulsory oohing and ahhing girls are compelled to do in the proximity of friends/colleagues' babies (be they admittedly adorable like Lady P's or a screaming harpy), I just have to take time out for a baby blog. I went to see my new baby great-nephew on Sunday and he's sooooo tiny. I held him and there was no weight to him at all. He has blue eyes like my niece's and thick dark hair. My niece sounded amazingly grown up. I went to the hospital with my sister and my nieces, who are all gorgeous and brown after their recent holiday. My sister is so confident driving now (we passed our tests in the same month.) I need to get back in the saddle!

So I'm in the process of applying for a couple of jobs. One of them is part time so if I got it I'd ask to cut my hours down here and do them both. I really like the idea of that because it would shake things up a little and make life more interesting. I also applied for a job I'm not qualified for, but I thought what the hey, you never know your luck. I really, really, really hope I get one of them. Even though I'm only new here and everything and things are about to pick up and get crazy, the idea of working here for a long period of time with nothing new on the horizon depresses me. It's weird because I've always worked towards something, some goal like exams or deadlines or new semesters. I don't like the idea of not having that.

In other news, my dissertation I've been worrying over getting in for this month is apparently due in in February, as I found out after emailing my ever-absent tutor. I hope he's got it right and isn't just being a div. I should probably call someone who knows what they're talking about, but I'm always scared they'll say something along the lines of "muahahahaha now we can charge you more fees!"

Great Auntie Chica

Weezer's weird guy asked me out this morning. He seemed embarrassed when I told him I had a boyfriend so I kind of felt bad for him. I wonder how many libraries he visits in a day, asking all the staff out. I'd been trying to avoid him but he foxed me by getting a haircut and wearing a different coat! We reckon Potter may be next since the weird dude seems to like blondes.

By the by, Potter continues to impress. We had a conversation with Lady P. about Big Fish (the movie, in case you thought I'd turned into a crazy angler.)

Me: "I cried my eyes out at the end!"
Potter: "Me too!"

I love boys who cry, they're so cute. I have an opening for a movie buddy too...

But the biggest news is that I am now a great aunt! Yes, my gorgeous little niece has a gorgeous little boy of her own. How nuts that my sister is a grandma. He was born on Sunday 28th, a little after 9 am and weighed 5 pounds 11 ounces. He's teeny tiny and looks like his dad from what I can tell on the photographs. I haven't been to see him yet. What makes a good present for a new mum?

The weekend brought the Mathew Street Festival and lots of fun was had by all. A little too much fun in some cases. On Sunday we headed into town and hit a few bars, listened to some live music. They had a fair in the street and we marveled at how the people on this scary looking ride were barely missing the buildings on either side of the road as they swung from side to side. We should've took photos. We had a few drinks in Mathew Street and listened to some Beatles tunes in Lennon's Bar, then chilled out in Concert Square, sipping Baileys and cowering in the shade. Food was necessary at this point so we had burgers and fries and Eddie's. We thought we'd go back through to Mathew Street then and have a dance, but the atmosphere had changed, everyone was way too drunk, causing argy bargy and throwing up, so we walked along by the Three Graces to the Albert Dock and had a last drink at The Pump House before catching a taxi home. Monday we lazed around for most of the afternoon (and watched The Great Escape) and then went back into town to check out some of the free concerts. We lingered at the Tapas bar longer than we should have (and missed most of all the concerts as a consequence!) but it was really nice eating tapas and drinking sangria on a Monday when we should have been in work!

I got the clothes I ordered in last week's Sale today. They arrived in a big box and I opened it when I got home from work. It was like a mini-Christmas!

In the words of the Fresh Prince: Smell ya later!

The Weakest Link

Today was Jack Jack's big day. He looked like a little cutie pie in his Christening gown, and chuckled all the way through the service. He was as good as gold. I sat with my nieces, which was regrettably close to Judas, but he didn't really bother me that much, although frankly I'm surprised he can walk on holy ground. At the end of the service though, my young cousin, who is quite close to Judas and thinks she is a model, started being snotty with me while we were taking photographs. I couldn't walk properly in my new brown shoes, I think I need heel grips. I'm at home now, and they're all at the party. The minute I got home I broke down in floods of tears. My dad tried to take a picture of me at the Christening and I freaked out. I've no idea why, I hate pictures of me as a rule but I quite like having them taken on big occasions so I can look at them when I'm old and wrinkly and remember. When I say freaked out I didn't scream at him or anything, but I just waltzed off. I think it was because I didn't feel like I was part of it, I'm not part of the family any more. I can't believe a sixteen year old has just been so snotty with me. I'm massively over-sensitive when it comes to my family since the Judas/Dick conspiracy kicked off, and any other time would've just laughed at her for being such a tit, but now I'm like "Wahhh! No one likes me!" How pathetic. I'll get over it. One day. It's weird because I have kind of a decent perspective on it, even though I'm boo hooing everywhere I still feel like "Oh well." There are a lot worse things that could be going on, and I'm thankful for the good people in my life like my parents and my boyfriend. I really love my sister but my relationship with her is a bit strained now. I know that she knows what's going on is all bullshit, but she wants to believe Dick at the end of the day, he's the father of her children and I respect that. But it still makes me feel shit that people can just say whatever the Hell they like about me and just get away with it. If I ever did anything remotely like what they have the repercussions would be massive and I'd feel rotten, but that's why they know they can get away with it because I'm between a rock and a hard place, I won't make things worse for my sister and they know that. Gah! But anyway. Now I have to decide whether to show my face at the party later with my boyfriend. Minus points, I'll probably end up crying like an idiot again, plus points, us turning up will really piss some people off :)

Mo' Money Mo' Shopping

I could start these posts, "Today, I bought-" I so need this job! Did I tell you I've picked out reward boots for if I get it? They're fab, even Guillermo likes them. I'm tempted to mention them when they ask me what I could bring to the job at interview :P

Today, I bought: the skirt and shorts I bought yesterday in different colours (a sure sign of reckless spending if you ask me), a pair of brown wedge shoes so that I can finally wear the brown trousers and skirt I bought last year, an apricot coloured zip up jacket, a long bright orange skirt, and a duck-egg blue cord blazer for my interview (maybe, and it's smarter and nicer than it sounds). I regret not buying a pair of beige crop trousers I spotted in a weird little shop I don't normally go in and, oh, the shoes I went out for in the first place and couldn't find. My niece partook of the shopping. She wears clothes "like wrapping paper" and is unbelievably specific about what she's after, she takes after me like that :) She wanted the skirt and grey top I bought yesterday but today they were both sold out! She'll borrow them off me now :P

I may be going to the Christening tomorrow since I could just go to the service and bite my tongue to keep from hurling abuse at Judas up at the altar and refrain from chucking things at his Footballers Wives reject girlfriend. I'm still undecided. I'm trying to decide what would cause the least trouble. I made a bit of a lame excuse up to my sister because I didn't want to say "Well, it's because of your jealous prick of a husband and that nobhead Judas." I've basically decided that the only person it will bug if I don't go is my sister because she may think I'm being petty and deliberately awkward and nobody else will really care either way. I just hope I don't make a show of myself and start crying. Did someone you cared about ever really stab you in the back? And then every time you're forced to be in the same vicinity as them it makes you feel sick to your stomach? There'll probably be a few posts about the eejit over the next few days if I encounter him tomorrow. Advance warning. But I feel better after I've slagged him off a bit... and spent every penny I have to my name!

Oh, and I got my hair cut this morning. My hairdresser told me off for washing my hair too much. She said it strips your hair of natural... something good. I hate greasy hair though, I think I'm overly paranoid. I remember I ranted that much about the greasy barnet on Jamie off Eastenders that my friend confessed he washed his hair every time he was meeting up with me cos he was afraid of what I'd think :P I only wash my hair like four or five times a week though, I think that's normal? Anyway, I have my fringe back, hurrah! It was really starting to annoy me, and I look better with a fringe, or 'bangs' as David says. My hairdresser is really funny. She and my sister were swapping stories about giving birth though. I'm still wishing the stork thing was true.

The movement you need is on your shoulders

This week it was my cousin Crazy's fourth birthday. I got her some My Little Pony thing with lots of accessories to do their hair with and stickers. She said it was her favourite. Result! Kids can be harsh when they don't like their pressies! Then she wafted off to find some snails to play with in the garden. If only I'd known! It's Jack Jack's christening this week too but I may not go because I am right in the middle of a vendetta with cousin Judas, who is being God father. I want to go but I don't want to be a party pooper - every time I see Judas I just well up with anger and the choices then are: a) smack him round the face with a handy trout and stomp on his balls until he says sorry and takes it all back, or b) cry. Our last encounter was at a funeral so the trout thing was wholly inappropriate, I cried instead. There's no telling what could happen this time, so I might be wise to avoid it altogether. Or wear stilettos.

The trip to Manchester didn't happen today (I know that was a whiney post yesterday, sometimes I whine), but we made it into town (by that I mean Liverpool City Centre) and I got some great bits for my holiday, three skirts, one pair of shorts and four tops. We also got our euros! Hooray! Once my job interview is out of the way and my work is handed in I will be really really excited. I can just imagine loading up the car and setting off, it's so close now! We are driving to somewhere near Toulouse. It's a long way! Anyway I'm off now to prepare for the Big Brother eviction. God willing, I'll miss the next one cos I'll be t'other side of the English Channel!

A Pregnant Pause

No, I'm not. But I am surrounded by friends who are having babies or really want them. My niece is having one. A boy. I'm going to be a great-aunt, and my sister, who is an absolute nutter, much like one of these outlandish people that escape from reality TV shows, will be a granny! Said niece has also just moved into her own place. She went and bought a three piece suite the other day, and uttered this sentence: "Do you know what I love? Dettol." She's 18! One of my good friends is also having her second child. I am constantly hearing about scans, tiredness, swollen limbs, etc. The pregnant friends are delighted, and the non-pregnant friends are or would be jealous. Am I weird, or does having a baby seem incredibly scary and undesirable?

Maybe it's my age (even though said friends are either just a couple of years older or younger than me), or maybe it's the fact that I share a wall with the screaming child family. This tribe has produced four kids in the space of just over one year. I tell you, I am scared to drink the water. The optimum location for hearing the sobs and cries of the four kids that visit my neighbours A LOT is our bathroom. The structure separating our house and theirs has long been christened the Wailing Wall. This is because not only do we get wonderful acoustics where the brats are concerned, but are treated to hardcore rap from the neighbour's sound system whenever any of us decide to have a lovely relaxing soak in the tub. Today, neighbour decided on a little change though. He put on Robert Miles, Children. I shit you not.

And next month, I have my baby cousin Jack Jack's christening to go to. All the children in our family in one room, along with Judas (the cousin I grew up with and was basically inseparable from; the clue is in the name) and Dick (the bro in law who says no more boys for me!) Joy!

Kids say the funniest things, Part Deux

I know I said I hate kids ya’ll, but sometimes you have to love them for pure comedy value. Plus, this kid happens to be my niece, who, despite being the spawn of Satan (my bro in law... let's call him Dick, is on a mission to ruin my life - like the Murphy’s, I’m not bitter), is adorable.

Little Dude: I can count to a hundred!

Me: (realising my mistake as the words tumbled out of my stupid gob) Really? Can you? Go on then.

Voice in my Head: NOOOOOO! WHY?!!!!!

LD: ooooone, twoooooo, threeeeee, foooooour.……. (several minutes later) thirty-twooooo, thirty-threeeeee, thirty-

Me: Can you count in tens?

Also in the same encounter, Surreal Sentences 101:

LD: Guess what? We saw a dead pancake by the park, and Chantelle/Demi/Stacey touched it! (matter-of-factly) It’s cos she wants to be a vet.

FYI: She calls magpies ‘pancakes’, and we have absolutely no clue as to why.

A Staple Diet

My mother is a fantastic cook. However, her eye sight is not 100%. Strange things found in our dinners include: a cigarette butt - no, really - and, just recently, a staple in my omelette. Okay, not in my omelette, amongst the potatoes, but it disturbs me that it could have been in my omelette. And she made the staple diet joke, perfectly unconcerned. Is she trying to do me serious harm? Is this why, when bees or wasps chased me as a child, she advised me to stand still? (This last bit is stolen from an Eddie Izzard joke. A very funny man, and rather sexy actually :P)

I'd also just like to make note of a wonderful compliment I received from Guillermo, you know, for posterity. And I quote: "You aren't as stupid as you make out to be when it comes to computers." Oh, harps. Angels. Birds twittering.

Crazy Talk

Kids say the funniest things. My almost-four year old cousin, let's call her Crazy, came out with this corker not long ago:

Crazy: But Mummy, the voice in my head is telling me I need to be naughty.

Mum: Who's voice is it?

Crazy: [grin] It's mine! [maniacal laughter]

Oh yes. Be afraid. Be very afraid.