30th June, 2008 (7:01 pm)
The Day With the Snarky Tosser (7)
- Wake up. Shower. Put in contact lenses.
- Rub eye accidentally. Rip lens.
- Spend fifteen minutes trying to locate lens in back of eye.
- Find lens. Pull it out. Realise there’s 1/3 of it still missing.
- Frantically search for said missing piece across duvet and/or my person. It’s not there. Start hunt within eye. Not there either.
- Eye goes bright red. Decide to leave it for now as no longer in pain.
- Go to work.
- Get to work. Helpful colleague informs me of story where, once upon a time, right, there was this guy, right, and he, like, totally ripped his lens, right, and it got lost, right, and it got stuck, like, totally in his eye, right, and then the eye grew over it, right, and he, like, totally went blind or died or something.
- Panic.
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29th June, 2008 (11:23 am)
The Day We Broke Up, Man (5)
O hai intermywebs!
Usually, I start one of these posts with several paragraphs of apologies: I’m a bad blogger, I’m sorry I left you and blah blah blah. But not today, baby! Vixx is too hardcore to apologise, mofo. So instead, we’re going to gloss over the fact that I’ve been complete pants lately and just start over. Work for you? Damned right it does.
Life since my birthday’s been pretty flat out . . . which reminds me, thanks again for your awesome messages and gifts, especially Claire, Sharon, Raq and - a late contender - Emz. You all rock, like, seriously. :) This weekend is the first in the last four weeks where I haven’t gone out and as much as I enjoy a good drink ‘n’ dance (I move so good for a fat chick - no, honestly: I’m like a seriously sexy lava-lamp) it’s been nice this weekend to stay home. That said, the nights out I did have were sooooo much fun, even though I was driving for one evening. I still feel guilty most nights, though - for we all know that mums aren’t supposed to go out and enjoy themselves independently of their children, let alone drink and dance like whores. But it’s a complete wind-down for me, you know? It looks like such a lame excuse written there like that but it’s true. It’s like I’m a member of the human race again, one that isn’t pre-occupied with gym kits and lunch money and healthy snacks.
I sometimes wonder if I’m wired wrongly. I couldn’t imagine being a SAHM, just as I couldn’t imagine my entire identity being shaped entirely around my kids and home. Don’t get me wrong; you know I adore S with an intensity that crushes me sometimes, just as you know that I have nothing but respect for the women who do choose to dedicate themselves 24/7 to their kids but . . . I existed as Vixx before he arrived, just as I’ll be Vixx after he’s all grown up and has moved on with a wonderful life of his own. I’m determined that I’m not lost in the interim, that my identity isn’t superseded by the fact I decided to knock myself up one random evening in late 2002. S was planned, conceived with love, and has his whole life felt wanted and needed and safe (well, hopefully) but that should never be at the expense of my life, right? Having a mummy who feels happy, rested and secure with her own identity can do nothing but makes for a happier home-life for everyone.
Fuck me, that got kinda serious, self-reflecting and sermon-y! Anyway.
We had S’s school report on Friday evening. It was all kinds of lovely, full of praise and love and encouragement which made me cry and S BEAM with pride for the entire evening. As a treat for being such a darling little man, we decided to take a trip to The Bay where we spent far too much money on a decidedly lacklustre Dr. Who Exhibition (S’s choice, obviously) and then took - for the first time ever, even though we fucking live here - the Waterbus up into town. It was S’s first time on a boat (he excitedly told us that now having been in a car, plane and boat, all was left for him to try now was a ROCKET) and he loved it, so even though the trip sights were achingly humdrum, there was something so refreshing about traveling with a four-year-old and it put a new spin on old sights. Bless.
I forgot my camera though, which was pretty stupid. Harumph.
So, what else? M and I have broken up, gone our difference ways. Fo’ real. No, not our marriage - just our band, man. He’d tell you that we split due to musical differences, but I’m here to tell you that we split because he’s fucking useless and I’m a Rock God. Honestly, he played the drums like an epileptic on acid. Say the pattern was blue, blue, blue, blue-and-red, blue, blue, blue, blue-and-red - my darling other half would use this opportunity to hit blue and red together for the whole duration, ruining our crowd score, dude, and totally bringing the gig down. I tried to explain it - calmly, kindly, reminding myself that he’s the father of my child etc. - but he’d just get proper arsey with me and say whatever, he’s hitting it right? What difference does it make if he’s hitting the red with the blue the whole time? So I tried to explain that that was like spelling his name with an ‘a’ after every letter in preparation for when an ‘a’ actually does turn up and then he kind of threw the drumsticks on the floor and said that I could fucking play by myself, then.
Heh.
Still, when the three of us - that’s M, S and I - play together, it rocks so much. S loves it. His instrument of choice is the drums but he’s an all-rounder, trying it all. Singing ‘Learn to Fly’ with him last night? So, so cool. He’s his mother’s son. :)
Obviously, my life has been sucked by my XBox. In August I get back-pay from work (well, hopefully) and since it’s 12+ months worth, that cash is gonna fund our Wii/Wii Board purchase (with a considerable amount left over, too). (I earn a nice wage these days, enough that we have a hefty disposal income even after sorting bills, but we were skint for so long, it hurts to blow money this way without me having to talk myself into a justification). The Wii is mainly for S; I’ve never really been a Nintendo Fangirl, and whilst I love Mario Cart et al, it’s always been a tad cutesy for me. That said? We’re gonna have fun, aren’t we? The only problem I envisage is finding time to fit in Wii-time on top of the XBox and TV schedules already in place . . .
Comments: (5)
20th June, 2008 (8:22 pm)
The Day With the Gifts (10)
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Comments: (10)
18th June, 2008 (4:55 pm)
The Day I Was Older (14)
So. I’m another year older. Another year wiser. Yet another year of sharing my infinite beauty, wit, class and sage thoughts with those around me, both in body and spirit.
Oh - and the modesty. Don’t forget the modesty.
Fuck me, interwebs, you’re lucky to have me and my thirty two years worth of experience, advice, baggage, eff-words and acute self-loathing.
Comments: (14)
12th June, 2008 (8:40 am)
The Bit About Not Being Dead (21)
I’m not dead.
It just appears that way as I’m poorly bad and recuperating on the couch. This would be mind-numbing were it not for the fact that my birthday presents arrived early and I’ve subsequently lost my life to Rock Band.
Not only am I a guitar legend, I also now rock the mic - rock the mic RIGHT.
Comments: (21)
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