Watching 'Definitely Maybe' with my 10 year old kitten. Little kitten is away visiting her Great Nana (sob!) so we decided to watch a chick flick, which ultimately led to endless questions and a long conversation about my previous relationships and youthful encounters. Now, I believe strongly in being honest with my children, but also that there are some things they don't need to know yet/ever... depending how personal it is. I like my kids to have an honest, rounded view of their mother, so they can make an informed opinion based on their own judgements. People WILL make judgements, and form opinions, and this includes children. Obviously I want their view of me to be pleasant and positive but by 10 years old I assume Big Kitten has realised I'm not as shiney and wondrous as she once thought, so I don't mind her knowing that I've made mistakes, and I don't mind her knowing some of them. I wouldn't want her knowing the details and intricacies of my previous sexual encounters, and I certainly didn't tell her my 'Magic Number' (I'm not telling you either, but let's just say it's more than my closest friend and less than my bloke).
Now, amongst my 'mistakes' - a term I dislike as I regret very little - there were at least two abusive relationships. One very violent, short lived, and heartbreaking as I thought I adored him. One long term, emotionally abusive on a scale I'd never previously imagined, and much more scarring than the former. Both of these are firmly dealt with and have little or no effect on my life now.
Too many flings to count. Dates between 1 and say... 15, are counted in the fling category. These people rarely if ever met le kittens, although some did purely on a friend basis as almost everybody I have ever been involved with has previously been a friend/acquaintance. I say 'too many to count' but what I really mean is 'Can't be arsed to count'. Probably about 5 to 7 I'd imagine. And to be clear, most of these were not sexual.
Breaking my friends heart when we were teenagers was pretty gruesome, I regret that. Jason was my college sweetheart, now one of my best friends. Don't regret ending it, but strongly regret kissing another boy, telling him, ending it, making up, fucking it up again and finishing him due to guilt etc. right before his 18th... which was not the best night ever! I cried 'cos Radioheads' 'Freak' played in the pub, he cried 'cos I couldn't love him, there was too much booze, vomit, tears and stumbles generally, but looking back, that's the way to celebrate an 18th memorably and in style, innit?!
Cheating: The Big Bad Meany of relationships. I have been cheated on numerous times, but then they were all fuckwits and didn't deserve me, so their loss. My cheating consists of: kissing another boy when I was with Jason (see above), another similar issue many years later, and one other memorable occasion: the only time I have properly cheated - but I have no remorse. In a nutshell, I wanted to break up with a fuckwit who'd cheated on me for like, the millionth time, he said think about it this weekend, I said no, he said please, I said maybe, I found out he'd slept with another girl so I reciprocated... VERY childish I know, but also lots of fun, and I'm afraid I just don't regret it. Dumped his ass on the monday as planned...
Biggest relationship regret goes back to the first point. Staying in an abusive relationship. I stayed in my last long term relationship for approximately two years too long. At least. This is the ultimate regret, probably the only genuine one. The rest all taught me stuff. This relationship taught me stuff but it almost killed me. NEVER again.
There are probably loads of other mistakes I've made, and I'd like to point out that not all of the above was mentioned to my kitten this evening for obvious reasons! Some small ones I did allude to included my involvement with an unfortunate amount of blokes that turned out to be gay, a few brief flings that finished due to my realising that they were mental cases, and some of the reasons my main relationships didn't work out: ie incompatability on a large scale, them cheating on me, and the fact they turned out to be my best mate... so I guess in some ways I got lucky. Finally found my Prince Charming, and on the hunt I found a boy best friend & a few good mates who I happen to have snogged. I'd like to dedicate this one to Jason, who's heart I broke, Danielle, who mended it for him, and Andy, the man that lived up to expectations...
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
Sunday, 27 March 2011
2 pints of Fosters and a pork chop...
I am writing this after being told to by various people as apparently I have left it too long. Consequently, I am also writing this a tad tiddly after 2 whole cans of lager. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?! Two cans of Fosters and I'm, if not drunk, (obviously, my kittens are a-snooze upstairs) then certainly a tiny bit tipsy, which is a pathetic attempt at boozing if I do say so myself. I've gota say, the days when pints on end could be consumed before walking home in a straight line and then necking the best part of a bottle of vodka with friend/s is well and truly over... sad times indeed! I also, it appears, need the loo much more than usual. It is true that drinking alcoholic beverages does lead to somewhat of a weakened bladder, in the sense that once one 'unplugs', as it were, the flow can be neither stemmed nor contained. (Not to say that I pee myself, I just have to go an offensive amount of times.) However, it has come to my attention that nowadays not only do I need to nip to the loo after every swig of beer, but the process begins much earlier. One can in and I had already 'unplugged'. My I'm ladylike aren't I?!
Anyway, on to more interesting topics. To keep updated, I'm feeling much better recently. I'd say my health and abilities have gone from 30% to 70%. I can now, if rested, do about 30-50% of the things I used to do without feeling like I'm gona die - YAY! (Not being sarcastic, I'm genuinely pleased with this situation. I may not be my normal self just yet but I'm getting there and no longer want to cry after walking for 10 minutes.) Hoping college will allow me to come back part time soon.
Watched 'Zombieland' this evening. I'm quite partial to a good zombie film, and rather fond of Emma Stone. ( ;0) Kerching!) so the dude and I decided once the kittens were in bed - after a flat out weekend of parks and frivolities - it was beer and film time. It led me to wondering, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, who or what would I become? I'd like to think I would become a hard-arse psycho like Woody Harrelsons character, or even a bitter hardened meany like Emma Stone, but I fear I would most probably be the nerdy narrator Jessie Eisenberg, (but I would certainly not kill The Man Bill Murray). OCD in the extreme with lists and rules and a plan. I know one thing, I would definitely NOT manage in a world alone. Who would I interact with? Who would I laugh at?! Who would I blog at?! Who would I TALK to?!!?!?!?!?! I would almost certainly go insane within days.
Think about it, without human interation of any kind. What would you do? Who would you be? Something to get you thinking isn't it... Also, as a point of interest, did you know a 'Twinkie' is just a cheap mini swiss roll?! Not quite so enticing anymore eh?
Anyway, on to more interesting topics. To keep updated, I'm feeling much better recently. I'd say my health and abilities have gone from 30% to 70%. I can now, if rested, do about 30-50% of the things I used to do without feeling like I'm gona die - YAY! (Not being sarcastic, I'm genuinely pleased with this situation. I may not be my normal self just yet but I'm getting there and no longer want to cry after walking for 10 minutes.) Hoping college will allow me to come back part time soon.
Watched 'Zombieland' this evening. I'm quite partial to a good zombie film, and rather fond of Emma Stone. ( ;0) Kerching!) so the dude and I decided once the kittens were in bed - after a flat out weekend of parks and frivolities - it was beer and film time. It led me to wondering, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, who or what would I become? I'd like to think I would become a hard-arse psycho like Woody Harrelsons character, or even a bitter hardened meany like Emma Stone, but I fear I would most probably be the nerdy narrator Jessie Eisenberg, (but I would certainly not kill The Man Bill Murray). OCD in the extreme with lists and rules and a plan. I know one thing, I would definitely NOT manage in a world alone. Who would I interact with? Who would I laugh at?! Who would I blog at?! Who would I TALK to?!!?!?!?!?! I would almost certainly go insane within days.
Think about it, without human interation of any kind. What would you do? Who would you be? Something to get you thinking isn't it... Also, as a point of interest, did you know a 'Twinkie' is just a cheap mini swiss roll?! Not quite so enticing anymore eh?
Friday, 11 March 2011
The best cheese grater in the world. Ever. Fact.
Haven't updated this in a while, possibly because I didn't want to depress anybody with my moaning and wailing about being ill. Briefly, in the last few weeks I have: Been ill a lot, been out some, and felt great very little. But there have been some highlights. Notably, seeing friends occasionally and starting to feel slightly better. (However, just when I felt I was walking relatively normally again, if much slower than normal, a visit to see my friend Frankie proved me wrong. Her first comment after the usual 'Hello how are you's was that I was walking funny. Insert sad/disappointed face. Cheers Francesca! Hehe.) Anyway, yes, there have been some good moments recently.
Went out for a weekend in Newcastle with my lovely dude, and met up with some friends on the Saturday. One friend, who is pregnant, blooming, and still perma-attached to her false lashes, had me smiling and laughing as usual, eating an 'interesting' and LUSH sandwich in a little Salsa cafe, and wishing I was knocked up again... This girl knows how to ROCK pregnancy. (I never did.) The afternoon flowed on nicely to a fantastic little pub for a friends birthday drinks. All was well and good, drinking mead and talking about some unmentionable subjects, laughing, jolity, frivolity, etc. Unfortunatley by about 8 or 9 pm, as I don't seem to be able to drink anymore, I was pissed, rambling, and also in agony, so my boyfriend took me home to bed, (no shenanigans unfortunately, I was in too much pain and couldn't stop crying, arse that I am, 'cos I felt I'd ruined his night out having to leave early. These are the times I really hate being ill.)
Have managed to catch up with 2 friends this week, which is a lot for me recently. The lovely afore-mentioned Francesca, and an old friend from Durham who came to tea last night, concluding the evening with a decision to see each other more often. Definitely must make more effort. This bubbling ball of ginger laughter and interesting anecdotes never ever fails to make me smile. I love my friends. :)
As I'm starting to feel a little better - think this whole 'resting' thing might be worth paying attention to - I plan to try and return to college soon, if they let me. Please God let them let me back, part time, to catch up! Please!!!!
I can now actually walk to town and back without collapsing in a heap and sleeping all day. Admittedly it takes me an hour and a half, rather than half an hour, but hey, I'm getting there!
To finish on a high note, I'm getting a new bed on monday (as mine has been leaning at a terrifiying 45 degree angle for months) and I bought a new cheese grater that has a storage tub attached. This makes the grating itself much easier, and I also now have a tub of ready grated cheese semi-permanently at hand. (I say semi-permanently as I'm sadly unable to stop eating it by the spoonful.) I think I'm in love...
Went out for a weekend in Newcastle with my lovely dude, and met up with some friends on the Saturday. One friend, who is pregnant, blooming, and still perma-attached to her false lashes, had me smiling and laughing as usual, eating an 'interesting' and LUSH sandwich in a little Salsa cafe, and wishing I was knocked up again... This girl knows how to ROCK pregnancy. (I never did.) The afternoon flowed on nicely to a fantastic little pub for a friends birthday drinks. All was well and good, drinking mead and talking about some unmentionable subjects, laughing, jolity, frivolity, etc. Unfortunatley by about 8 or 9 pm, as I don't seem to be able to drink anymore, I was pissed, rambling, and also in agony, so my boyfriend took me home to bed, (no shenanigans unfortunately, I was in too much pain and couldn't stop crying, arse that I am, 'cos I felt I'd ruined his night out having to leave early. These are the times I really hate being ill.)
Have managed to catch up with 2 friends this week, which is a lot for me recently. The lovely afore-mentioned Francesca, and an old friend from Durham who came to tea last night, concluding the evening with a decision to see each other more often. Definitely must make more effort. This bubbling ball of ginger laughter and interesting anecdotes never ever fails to make me smile. I love my friends. :)
As I'm starting to feel a little better - think this whole 'resting' thing might be worth paying attention to - I plan to try and return to college soon, if they let me. Please God let them let me back, part time, to catch up! Please!!!!
I can now actually walk to town and back without collapsing in a heap and sleeping all day. Admittedly it takes me an hour and a half, rather than half an hour, but hey, I'm getting there!
To finish on a high note, I'm getting a new bed on monday (as mine has been leaning at a terrifiying 45 degree angle for months) and I bought a new cheese grater that has a storage tub attached. This makes the grating itself much easier, and I also now have a tub of ready grated cheese semi-permanently at hand. (I say semi-permanently as I'm sadly unable to stop eating it by the spoonful.) I think I'm in love...
Friday, 25 February 2011
Worlds worst mother...
I'm feeling really pants today. Have been all week actually which is probably a contributing factor in my lack of entries. I over-did it early in the week, gay clubbing, cleaning and painting, shopping, walking and generally being busy. I say this and it sounds like something relatively normal, especially for me, miss busy bee, but let me tell you in more detail...
On Monday, as I was kitten free for the first time on a weekday in ages, and as I love a good gay night out which is far too much of a rarity these days, the wife and I decided to have an impromptu gay sesh. Sounds a little bit like it has the potential to be at least a bit wild right? Well, and don't get me wrong, I had an amazing night but, it was NOT wild. Fun indeed, but nicely relaxed. The wife and I had 2 vodkas in the house, and our idea of a small vodka is usually half and half coke to vodka, but these were only equivalent to a pub double. How civilised of us. We then did our usual trick of heading into town about 10.30/11pm, forgetting that on a Monday everywhere closes early, which was fine, we just had another quick one then hit a gay bar. We weren't really dressed up, but had made an effort, and this seemed fine, I was in shorts/tights combo with loose top, wife in midriff bareing cartoon tee and skinnies, hair good but 'undone', make up smudgey... but I still felt old because of the bloody music! I only knew the more recent tunes because of my 10 year old daughter! Gaaaahhhh!!! It's begun, the decline has begun, I already prefer Radio 2 sometimes now. God help me. Anyway, eventually there were some fantastic hip hop/R n B/funk/soul tunes that we knew, a bit of old skoool and some Rihanna stuff that we recognised, and we danced our arses off for about half an hour, and then they bloody closed! Poo heads. We did score some free drinks though, and the wife got eyed up by a (possiby underage) hot blonde. After an interminable walk home I collapsed into my bed and slept more soundly than I have in ages.
The next day was the day I 'over-did' it. This is what I did: Cleaned my house for about an hour. Rested. Popped round the wifes. Rested. Walked to town with the wife, one shop, taxi home as I was knackered. Rested. Cleaned wifes kitchen for an hour or so. Rested. Helped wife paint kitchen for an hour or so. Rested. Then the wife told me she thought I'd probably done too much so she made me my tea and then sent me home to bed.
On Wednesday I woke up in crippling agony and could barely walk, so hobbled around my house awaiting my little niece for a sleepover and the return of the kittens (yay!) It took me an hour and a half to do the 20 minute trip to the shops later that day, my little niece laughing at me the whole time for being so slow! By Thursday morning I could barely move, and the walk to town to drop my niece off led to a drop in at the docs on my way home. After being poked and prodded, questioned, queried, and admonished for 'overdoing' it and not 'resting' enough I was prescribed painkillers and 'plenty of rest with periods of controlled activity'. I'm F***ING SICK OF RESTING! Since then I have done as little as possible and have felt for most of today like the worlds worst mother. My poor children not only have to put up with all this, but they are bored, under stimulated and in need of something to do that doesn't involve me using them as a walking stick or crushing their hand in pain while I walk. This evening I'd had enough and burst into tears. Poor things didn't know what to do so just cuddled me, while I sobbed and apologised for being ill so much and so bloody useless. This, I realise, makes me even worse... Then I pulled myself together and - painfully - made a hug vat of bolognaise, while my adorable and wonderful kittens tidied the living room. Then we all cleaned the kitchen together, like a little production line, while the tea cooked. Bless 'em, I know they don't mind, (or try not to), but I can't bear this. How long will I be like this? I'm so F***ING sick of being ill, and feel completely useless. I can barely look after myself when I'm this ill, my poor kittens are suffering and slowly wasting away from boredom. How will I ever get back to college? Keep my house clean? See any of my friends ever again?!
Sorry to blather on so. But this is my diary so I'm allowed. Any sympathy will be greatly appreciated, and offers of buying me a dishwasher even more so...
On Monday, as I was kitten free for the first time on a weekday in ages, and as I love a good gay night out which is far too much of a rarity these days, the wife and I decided to have an impromptu gay sesh. Sounds a little bit like it has the potential to be at least a bit wild right? Well, and don't get me wrong, I had an amazing night but, it was NOT wild. Fun indeed, but nicely relaxed. The wife and I had 2 vodkas in the house, and our idea of a small vodka is usually half and half coke to vodka, but these were only equivalent to a pub double. How civilised of us. We then did our usual trick of heading into town about 10.30/11pm, forgetting that on a Monday everywhere closes early, which was fine, we just had another quick one then hit a gay bar. We weren't really dressed up, but had made an effort, and this seemed fine, I was in shorts/tights combo with loose top, wife in midriff bareing cartoon tee and skinnies, hair good but 'undone', make up smudgey... but I still felt old because of the bloody music! I only knew the more recent tunes because of my 10 year old daughter! Gaaaahhhh!!! It's begun, the decline has begun, I already prefer Radio 2 sometimes now. God help me. Anyway, eventually there were some fantastic hip hop/R n B/funk/soul tunes that we knew, a bit of old skoool and some Rihanna stuff that we recognised, and we danced our arses off for about half an hour, and then they bloody closed! Poo heads. We did score some free drinks though, and the wife got eyed up by a (possiby underage) hot blonde. After an interminable walk home I collapsed into my bed and slept more soundly than I have in ages.
The next day was the day I 'over-did' it. This is what I did: Cleaned my house for about an hour. Rested. Popped round the wifes. Rested. Walked to town with the wife, one shop, taxi home as I was knackered. Rested. Cleaned wifes kitchen for an hour or so. Rested. Helped wife paint kitchen for an hour or so. Rested. Then the wife told me she thought I'd probably done too much so she made me my tea and then sent me home to bed.
On Wednesday I woke up in crippling agony and could barely walk, so hobbled around my house awaiting my little niece for a sleepover and the return of the kittens (yay!) It took me an hour and a half to do the 20 minute trip to the shops later that day, my little niece laughing at me the whole time for being so slow! By Thursday morning I could barely move, and the walk to town to drop my niece off led to a drop in at the docs on my way home. After being poked and prodded, questioned, queried, and admonished for 'overdoing' it and not 'resting' enough I was prescribed painkillers and 'plenty of rest with periods of controlled activity'. I'm F***ING SICK OF RESTING! Since then I have done as little as possible and have felt for most of today like the worlds worst mother. My poor children not only have to put up with all this, but they are bored, under stimulated and in need of something to do that doesn't involve me using them as a walking stick or crushing their hand in pain while I walk. This evening I'd had enough and burst into tears. Poor things didn't know what to do so just cuddled me, while I sobbed and apologised for being ill so much and so bloody useless. This, I realise, makes me even worse... Then I pulled myself together and - painfully - made a hug vat of bolognaise, while my adorable and wonderful kittens tidied the living room. Then we all cleaned the kitchen together, like a little production line, while the tea cooked. Bless 'em, I know they don't mind, (or try not to), but I can't bear this. How long will I be like this? I'm so F***ING sick of being ill, and feel completely useless. I can barely look after myself when I'm this ill, my poor kittens are suffering and slowly wasting away from boredom. How will I ever get back to college? Keep my house clean? See any of my friends ever again?!
Sorry to blather on so. But this is my diary so I'm allowed. Any sympathy will be greatly appreciated, and offers of buying me a dishwasher even more so...
Monday, 21 February 2011
Kitten Time...
My kittens are at their Dads till midweek as it's half term. What is this curious thing about parents, when your children are with you all you desire is is peace and quiet, but when they're not with you all you want is the noise and chaos of the children?!
I have mixed emotions about them seeing their dads. I feel grateful, particularly for their sakes, that their dads take an interest. I also feel lucky that this is a regular thing, I have lots of friends and acqauaintances whos' children do not have contact, frequent or otherwise, with their fathers, and this is not only detrimental to the children involved but leaves the mums with no time to themselves. I hear friends complain that they're desperate for a babysitter/night out/day to themselves/an hour for a cup of tea in peace (!) and I feel ashamed. Because the truth is I resent having to share them! Ha!
Now, when they are with their dads for a few extra days on school holidays I want them back home with me, but simultaneously I know it's what's best. Thing is, not only do I strongly believe that fathers have a right to see their children, but more importantly I believe the children have a right to see their fathers. Obviously. I pity the men who have been denied contact - unless it was necessary/deserved for reasons benefitting the children, not for reasons of bitterness or spite - but I still resent having to share my own children with their fathers. Oh what a complicated and contradictory woman I am, but as I always say, there is a big difference between what you think and what you feel, and making the two correspond can be HARD.
I KNOW that my children seeing daddy regularly is not only a positive thing but also the right thing, but I FEEL as though they should be with me, always. I'm a wrong 'un.
They see their dads 3 weekends out of 4, which is a pretty good balance, but let me tell you, the fact that I get all these weekends to myself to do as I please, does not mean I do not live for the weekends I have them with me, 'Kitten Weekends'.
Next weekend is just such a weekend, and also a year since my man and I got together, so we are going to celebrate with a weekend of visiting old friends, art galleries and ice-skating. And I can't bloody wait! Till then, I hope my kittens are having fun, but equally I hope they're missing me just as much as I miss them!
I have mixed emotions about them seeing their dads. I feel grateful, particularly for their sakes, that their dads take an interest. I also feel lucky that this is a regular thing, I have lots of friends and acqauaintances whos' children do not have contact, frequent or otherwise, with their fathers, and this is not only detrimental to the children involved but leaves the mums with no time to themselves. I hear friends complain that they're desperate for a babysitter/night out/day to themselves/an hour for a cup of tea in peace (!) and I feel ashamed. Because the truth is I resent having to share them! Ha!
Now, when they are with their dads for a few extra days on school holidays I want them back home with me, but simultaneously I know it's what's best. Thing is, not only do I strongly believe that fathers have a right to see their children, but more importantly I believe the children have a right to see their fathers. Obviously. I pity the men who have been denied contact - unless it was necessary/deserved for reasons benefitting the children, not for reasons of bitterness or spite - but I still resent having to share my own children with their fathers. Oh what a complicated and contradictory woman I am, but as I always say, there is a big difference between what you think and what you feel, and making the two correspond can be HARD.
I KNOW that my children seeing daddy regularly is not only a positive thing but also the right thing, but I FEEL as though they should be with me, always. I'm a wrong 'un.
They see their dads 3 weekends out of 4, which is a pretty good balance, but let me tell you, the fact that I get all these weekends to myself to do as I please, does not mean I do not live for the weekends I have them with me, 'Kitten Weekends'.
Next weekend is just such a weekend, and also a year since my man and I got together, so we are going to celebrate with a weekend of visiting old friends, art galleries and ice-skating. And I can't bloody wait! Till then, I hope my kittens are having fun, but equally I hope they're missing me just as much as I miss them!
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Blue and sexy...
Watching X Men with my other half. Wish I looked as hot as Rebecca Romjin (or however you spell it) when all naked and blue with orange hair. Is it just me or would almost all the members of the X Men get it?! Mmmmm...
Anyway, have had a busy old week this week, what with big kittens birthday celebrations and my mamas birthday today. Wednesday evening was time for the Big Birthday Surprise. We, the step mum and I, took her to see street dancers Flawless. It was an amazing night! We all laughed and chatted and were amazed by the dancing, step mum and I disgusted big kitten somewhat with our obvious drooling over one or two of the hot dancers, wolf wistling and growling (ahem!) and then blaming it on other people. We met the stars briefly afterwards and they high fived the birthday girl, took photos etc, and all in all a rather fantabulous evening was had.
On Friday I took the big kitten for a day in town to spend birthday pennies and vouchers. She is growing up and freaking me out, I have strong reason to believe she may be turning into a chav. I neither knew nor understood some of her music choices, and what is worse, the ones I did, I did not like. N'Dubz for one. What's that all about?! Made sure she bought the (only) album of theirs with no Parental Advisory sticker on the front. Jesus christ, seriously, she is 10... Took her to Burger King for dinner, it was awful, expensive and cold - the food and the restaurant. Then on to Primark to buy endless floral hairbands, and look at faux Chanel handbags as 'Cheryl Cole is wearing them in all the magazines'. These things, compounded with the fact that todays little trip to town to wish my Mam happy birthday tired me out so much a two hour nap was necessary, are making me consider the onset of old age to be both unwanted and closer at hand than I had previously considered. Big kitten has trouble believing that I was ever youngish and relatively trendy. I occasionally like to think I still am... Sob! ...
Anyway, have had a busy old week this week, what with big kittens birthday celebrations and my mamas birthday today. Wednesday evening was time for the Big Birthday Surprise. We, the step mum and I, took her to see street dancers Flawless. It was an amazing night! We all laughed and chatted and were amazed by the dancing, step mum and I disgusted big kitten somewhat with our obvious drooling over one or two of the hot dancers, wolf wistling and growling (ahem!) and then blaming it on other people. We met the stars briefly afterwards and they high fived the birthday girl, took photos etc, and all in all a rather fantabulous evening was had.
On Friday I took the big kitten for a day in town to spend birthday pennies and vouchers. She is growing up and freaking me out, I have strong reason to believe she may be turning into a chav. I neither knew nor understood some of her music choices, and what is worse, the ones I did, I did not like. N'Dubz for one. What's that all about?! Made sure she bought the (only) album of theirs with no Parental Advisory sticker on the front. Jesus christ, seriously, she is 10... Took her to Burger King for dinner, it was awful, expensive and cold - the food and the restaurant. Then on to Primark to buy endless floral hairbands, and look at faux Chanel handbags as 'Cheryl Cole is wearing them in all the magazines'. These things, compounded with the fact that todays little trip to town to wish my Mam happy birthday tired me out so much a two hour nap was necessary, are making me consider the onset of old age to be both unwanted and closer at hand than I had previously considered. Big kitten has trouble believing that I was ever youngish and relatively trendy. I occasionally like to think I still am... Sob! ...
Friday, 18 February 2011
HIV...
I just found out today that my big kitten has been convinced for a while now, and has been telling people, that I have HIV. It was mentioned on tv or something this morning and we talked a little about it, to which she freaked a bit and said wasn't this what I have? No darling, Mummy has M E. No, not that one, she replies, your other one! Bi-polar? I query? No, Mummy, the other thing you have! IBS? I hazard... Yes! That's the one, is that not HIV? No dear, it's not.
I've had IBS now for a few years, how long has my eldest believed I have HIV. And more importantly, how many people has she mistakenly told...?!?!?!?!
I've had IBS now for a few years, how long has my eldest believed I have HIV. And more importantly, how many people has she mistakenly told...?!?!?!?!
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