11th November, 2008 (9:26 pm)
The Day With the Rock God Wannabe (8)
My son just spontaneously sang out the opening verse of Welcome to the Jungle, complete with Axel Rose-esque screeching and air guitar.
Be still my heart - I’m so proud.
One day, baby - when Mummy’s joined the fake band in the sky - all these air guitar games will be yours. Take good care of them, son.
Comments: (8)
9th November, 2008 (1:20 pm)
The Day With The Return (10)
O HAI interwebs!
Ah, man, it’s been so long, hasn’t it? I suck donkey balls: you know it, I know it. A gazillion things have happened, some good, some not so good, some middling it with a meh, but the upshot is I’m still alive - give me a woo and a hoo - and the bad gunky - whilst not completely abated - is definitely on the retreat.
It would take far more time than I actually have available right now to update you on everything, so I’m going to be lame and do a quick bullet list. Yeah, that’s right. I suck and I’m lazy.
- We went to Disneyland Paris! (I know - it’s old news because the photo already gave that away but play along). I will report on this properly for prosperity, but suffice to say the trip was glorious and helped to de-gunkify me, as well as restore my faith in friendship. Those of you who have been reading here for some time may recall that we went to Majorca with ‘friends’ when S had just turned two years old. BIG. MISTAKE. My advice continues to be that you should NEVER go on holiday with friends if you’d actually wish to remain friends - trust me, I learned this the hard way. That said, our friends in France insisted that we meet up and do the trip together and I’m so, so glad that we did. Their son is BFF with little S, so it meant that they had each other when we hit the parks, and then the Mummies and Daddies had each other for drinks and laughter when the boys went to sleep. :) It was perfect and I loved every single second of it from seeing S actually cry with joy when he met Pooh bear to watching Jack and Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas lead the Halloween Parade to seeing M’s face the first time he stepped off Space Mountain. Only down sides were the ridiculously hideous Tower of Terror ride (wtf? HATED IT), my riproaringly sore feet and the fact that I came home with the flu.
- Yes, I had the flu. Not a head cold or the sniffles but the real flu, the flu with the shaking and the sweats and fever and complete inability to get warm. Thought I was going to fucking die at one point. I was out of commission for over a week and felt like death for most of that time.
- M’s employers are asshats. Those of you who follow me on Twitter and had intermittent updates during my absence will already know that, but since being promoted in September and moving to a new section, they’ve changed his shift pattern three times. This is beyond frustrating when you have a kidlet to organise and another household job to juggle and has meant we had to reschedule/miss/have him take leave to do things we’d booked months and months ago - like our Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon tickets, for example, and also the Christening of our BFFs’ (we’re BFFs with both my friend from University and her husband hence the seemingly misplaced apostrophe :)) two kids. They seem completely oblivious of the havoc it causes. It also means that we’ll be M-less on Christmas Eve day, Christmas Day day, Boxing Day night and New Year’s Eve day. Harrumph. :( (An aside: he did his first ‘proper’ night shift last night, coming in today at 8am. He didn’t fall asleep as much as trip into bed and pass out. Bless).
- This is incredibly remiss of me, but I bought an iPhone about two months ago and failed to tell you. My bad. *hangs head* Grax convinced me with his vlog summary, and I haven’t been disappointed with my purchase. The battery life is pants (although marginally improved by fiddling about with the settings like brightness, 3G etc.), it’s crap that you can’t send or receive picture messages direct to the phone (have to go via email instead) and the fact you have to manually import Contacts (can’t save anything to SIM - everything’s kept on the phone, which is a pain in the ass if, like me, you swap cards to a cheaper phone when you’re out on the beer in case you lose the phone in a drunken stupor) is bollocks but other than all that, it rocks. I’m saving about £15-£20 a month from my old package on Vodafone, and I’m able to browse online a lot more. Score.
- Dead Space arrived. I didn’t get a freebie copy like everyone else on the Community Day did (clearly they didn’t like me - sob :() so I had to buy it. That said, it rocks - even though I am only an hour or so in but am already running low on fucking health and ammo. Maybe the fact I suck at the game is why EA didn’t send me a copy?
- I’ve started about three million new layouts for this place and all are shit. My angel hasn’t had new clothes since late 2006, which is a crazy long time to go without a facelift considering I used to change layouts here as frequently as my underwear. Yet nothing looks right. I did come up with something and then found a frighteningly similar layout at Perfection. That person clearly did theirs before mine so I do not call shenanigans, but ffs, that was the only layout that seemed okay! So back to the designing board I do go.
- I hate 5th November. I loathe fireworks. I say it every single year but I do HATE the fucking things. M was working so I ended up having to fulfill his promise to our son and take S to an organised fireworks display on Friday night. I spent the evening trying not to cry each time they BANGED and avoiding the sweet but decidedly odd little eight-year-old who took a distinct shine to me.
- My writing has stalled again. Am perpetually procrastinating. The way I’m going this book will only be published posthumously - and only then if someone much better than I finishes the fucking thing.
- Finally, S sat with me again and observed the Armistice Day two minute silence. I’m so proud of the boy he’s becoming.
That’ll have to do. My fingers are cramping from the hitherto lack of keyboard use and I think I’m boring myself, which means I’m definitely boring you. To close, I have to wish Val a happy pregnancy, Tanya a happy wedding and Teesee a belated happy birthday. There’s probably someone or something I’ve forgotten so if so, please congratulate/link yourself in my comments and we’ll pretend that it’s from me, mmkay?
Finally: how’s you? What you been up to?
Comments: (10)
27th August, 2008 (3:43 pm)
The Day With the Dancing and Dr. Who (12)
I think we’ve just about recovered from our trek across the country to see George Michael’s (allegedly) final UK arena show. As M’s work wouldn’t give him the day off following the bank holiday weekend (bastards), we had to drive to London and back all on the same day. This meant that I got home at 2am the morning of my return to work. Heh.
It was a sheer fluke that we got the tickets at all. I was home the day they went on sale but by the time I got through on the priority line for Ticketmaster at 9.02am they’d already sold out, and the website was crapping out errors and time-outs like nobody’s business. So I’d kind of resigned myself to missing it but kept doing that random refresh that netheads do, just on the off-chance the page may load, and then on the off-chance the page did load. I hyperventilated and promptly booked the tickets before the website changed it’s mind, and a few weeks later two shiny, purple Final Two tickets fell through my letterbox. AWESOME. I didn’t even have to get one of those bolloxy restricted view places or pay £200+ tickets either - for £50 each we were sat smack bang in the middle at the back of the top tier. This meant that we had a fantastic view of the entire stage, albeit with Michael left looking a bit ant-like due to the distance. But I could live with that!
We got there really early, though. M gets a bit anal about travel/parking times etc., so thanks to an early start after dropping S off at my in-laws and a clear drive, we had five hours to kill when we got there. FFS. :p So we had a walk around, a drink and some food, and managed to spend the entire day together, just the two of us, without one wanting to murder the other. And because it was, like, THERE, we went to the Dr. Who exhibition - WITHOUT OUR SON. (I’m sad to report that after suffering through three series’ worth of the Doctor and Rose and Donna and crap-actor-Martha (S isn’t interested in Chris Eccleston, so we haven’t seen S1) I’ve been infected by the Who bug. How embarrassing.) I felt awful about going without him at our side, but wtf IT WAS RIGHT THERE! We toyed about how to approach it; lie and pretend that we didn’t go, fib and say we HAD to go or simply cough up the truth. In the end we plumped for the latter, so after I gave him his pressies and showed him the (bad phone) photos, I asked if he was cross that we went without him. He cuddled me and said no, course not, he got the best pressies which is just as good! Bless. :) We bought him an exhibition guide so that he could see all the exhibits currently housed in London and he loves it . . . to the extent that the front cover has already fallen off due to excessive reading. No Kudos Cool Parenting Points loss for us.
Personally, I think the main reason he’s so cool about it is because the Earl’s Court show sports two of the spooky Father Christmas’ from the Christmas Specials and they completely and utterly SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. That’s right - not the daleks, not the cybermen, not the woman who steals people’s faces or the teachers who turn into flying bat-things. He will watch just about anything other than extras dressed up in cheap Santa Claus costumes and plastic masks.
Anyway, I know Michael’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I thought he rocked. He did some solo stuff I knew, some solo stuff I didn’t, and then some awesome Wham! (WTF? there’s no official website?!) stuff that everyone knew and went mental for. I’m a little young to remember Wham! properly - I was five or six when they split up, I think - but I do love the complete campness and danceability of stuff like Freedom (good video!) and I’m Your Man. I don’t normally notice stuff like video displays and light shows, but even that was incredible - so while I fidgeted through the slow stuff that I don’t like, the stage still looked pretty and it was more than adequately balanced by his patented hip shake and fake police uniforms. Yay!
Comments: (12)
3rd August, 2008 (10:14 pm)
The Day With the Brevity (7)
ARRGH. Updating this place has replaced my Japanese homework as my must-put-off-for-as-long-as-possible thing. Sorry. My bad.
In the interest of brevity (it’s late, I’ve got work tomorrow, I had a late one last night, a long day looming and have shitloads to do) here’s a bullet list to assure you that I’m neither dead nor, um, dying.
- France: REMIND ME TO UPDATE PROPERLY ABOUT THIS. We went to France for three days to visit one of my BFFs. It was all kinds of good, so much so that we’ve all been in something of a post-visit blues since returning Thursday. Sob.
- San Francisco: I know, I know - I haven’t updated you properly and now, you’ll have to wait until I come back to get the details. But the crux is, I’ve been invited by EA games on an all expenses visit to their HQ in San Francisco and give their latest survival horror title, Dead Space, a try. That’s right - ALL EXPENSES PAID.
Like I said, I’ll fill you in properly on the hows and whys and wheres when I get back Thursday, but I’m excited and scared and worried (could be elaborate grooming process and I’m going to end up in some sick bloke’s steak pie by the end of Tuesday) but . . . it’s just too good an opportunity, isn’t it? How can I not go? So yes, I’m a little concerned that I won’t be a good enough gamer (read: SHIT) and I’m pretty sure I’m the only contributor with tits.
If it makes you feel better, I’m only going for one night. Yes - I’m travelling zillions of miles to play a video game and stay ONE NIGHT. It’s stupid, but I’m having to come back a day early in order to ensure I’m here for little S’s birthday. (am bad mother for going?!). On the plus side, I don’t think I’m there long enough to even drum up jetlag. Heh.
- 5th Birthday: S turns five on Thursday - can you believe it? Today was his birthday party. (mental note: also write this up, V, before you forget). It all went to plan - yay - and it meant that my very best (non-French) friend had to cart herself, her man and her kiddies - including her newborn daughter - up to stay with us. I spent most of the weekend smelling baby E’s head (there’s something about the smell of a newborn scalp that makes my uterus simultaneously sigh and contract) and making plans to kidnap her. My plans were thwarted when I was asked to be her godmother. As no-one has ever deigned to entrust me with their offspring before (I have no nieces and my one nephew - M’s sister’s son - has yet to be Christened, although I quite frankly I don’t think I’m going to make the cut anyway) I promptly burst into tears and then had to abandon my plans to steal her. Bugger.
- Work: Got payrise. Have scandalous salary now. Tis awesome. Ironically still think am very poor though (we were broke so badly for so long) and agonise over everything I buy. Bought myself a Time Capsule today, but only after long argument with myself as I had also recently upgraded my XBox 360 and and Rockband etc, and so was being frivolous. M pointed out that the latter was a gift funded 90% by birthday donations and that I was being an arse. I agreed and hit ‘order’. Now feel sick with guilt.
- M’s work: M been promoted! He’s switching to shifts, which is hard, but am so, so proud of him - this is only the second job he’s ever gone for in ten years, and he was so anxious about it all. Will also update properly next weekend.
- Online Stuff: I’m lagging on blogs, LJ and forums of late. Eep. Sorry if I seem absent and I haven’t commented. Normal service will resume when I’m back on Thursday. I’m on leave for a fortnight then, so will probably veg around the house for two days and then pronounce that I’m bored. At that point you’ll probably be sick of my 27 updates a day. Apologies in advance.
- Misc.: There’s more. I’m certain of it. Only now it’s even later than when I started and I have to go to bed before I crash on my Mighty Mouse, so I probably need to leave it there. Can’t be bothered to proofread, either . . . hmm, that can’t be good - but I’m sure you kind souls will point out my numerous errors. In the meantime . . . how are you? Good? What have you been up to? Tell me all.
Comments: (7)
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)
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