Still hairy

...but at least I'm a weird shade of red from the sunbed.

We're due to fly in 12 hours, it's 1.00am and I am still washing and drying, although I have packed (apart from Theo's jeans and t-shirt, that he now wants to take and are still in the washer), which is a bit of a miracle.

For some bizarre reason I decided I really, really, needed a white strapless Wonderbra today so went to a not-even-a-little-bit-local out of town shopping centre. The fact that the kids and I were out for over 5 hours, when I had so much to do before we go, didn't seem to bother me much - at the time.

I did eventually find one in my size (if I tell you 38D some may get excited, some may get jealous, trust me on this one I am not a D cup, but the Wonderbras in 38D fit me perfectly) and even though it had obviously previously been worn and the plastic straps that come with it were AWOL, I just had to have it because I really, really, needed one. I managed to persuade the spotty youth to knock me some money off and rip the plastic straps of a mere 34A, which he did willing (impressed by the D cup, no doubt) and then had to wash the bugger to get the strange brown stains off it. But at least I now have one.

Changed the kids sheets, didn't do ours, so I will no doubt be struck by lightening for my slovenly ways.

And my legs are still hairy. Oh well, I'll pretend I'm German.

So this is it, probably for 2 weeks cos I've no idea if I'll find a pc to use (my sister can find them everywhere she goes 'Hi I'm in Panama' 'Hi I'm in New Zealand' etc etc she blithely emails.) I have only ever seen one cyber cafe, and that's on the way home, half way between my work pc and home pc, so, sod all use really.

I digress, please come back and read me after my hols.

Bye for now x

Old knickers

I've just been for a fag (well, I have been back at work for 30 minutes) and the conversation came round to me packing for my hols.

When I go away I buy new knickers - to leave at home.

I take all my minging old pants with me and then throw them away, so I don't have to bring dirty knickers home. I thought it was reasonably sensible. Apparently, this is hilarious.

Am I the only person that does this?

Virtual Friday

Because I'm off work tomorrow, (and the following 2 weeks) the Friday lunch club met today. Why do we go there? The food is remarkably average and if I eat another goat's cheese salad I will look like a goat. (Say NOTHING)

Now I don't want to do any more work (quit laughing) I want to go home and attack the list of things I still haven't started. I won't have time to do them tonight cos I'm quizzing with Paul and my legs are still as hairy as a hairy thing.

Dull, dull, dull

Today has been extremely dull, with a portion of dull, made extra large, on the side.

I can vaguely remember my life once being a tad more exciting. I don't crave huge adrenalin rushes but something to make me feel a bit more chirpy would be nice.

To relieve the boredom I've been trying to decide which chores to do first before I go on holiday, and this is the order I've decided on:

1. Take bra back to M&S (they never fit me from there so why did I bother in the first place?)
1a). Washing
2. Nuke myself on sunbed (yes, I know it's not good for me, but neither is smoking, binge drinking, driving too fast or hanging round with some of the decidedly dodgy people I know)
2a). Drying
3. Try to sort out the sleeve on Theo's blazer (one sleeve is totally frayed and manky at the cuff.and being such a dab hand with a needle - not - I have decided in my wisdom to turn both sleeves up. What do you mean 3/4 length sleeves are so last year??)
3a). Washing
4. Take blazer to cleaners (or, alternatively, get Paul to take it when we're on hols again - you saw it here first Paul)
4a) Drying
5. Rip all the hairs out of my legs, by the roots (I love my epilator)
5a) Washing
6. Change the beds (its a habit, go on holiday = change the sheets)
6a). Washing
6b). Washing
6c). Washing
7. Poo myself for not having done any of these things except 2., 5. and 6.
7a) Drying
8. Bleach the toilets (I don't want the burglars tutting over skid marks)
9. Leave the house
9a). Come back for passports
9b). Have another last wee
9c). Bleach the toilet
9d). Leave the house
9e). Shout at Jonathan for not letting me go back home for my favourite tweezers
9f). Cuss for not being able to get a seat in the departure lounge
10. LEAVE THE COUNTRY

Dilemma

No, not the crappy Nelly/Kelly song.

It's my birthday next month and I will no longer be 39 (plus VAT). So, do I change my blog thingy? But then '39.2 plus vat' seems a bit daft.

Nah, I'll start lying about my age

Each to his/her own

Now, I am a very liberal minded person but when my boss sent me this link I was quite perturbed.

Who??

Why??

http://www.realdoll.com/dolls.asp

Must be just like shagging a corpse.

However, look at 'Charlie' and his first pose. Why would anyone spend that much money on a sex toy (?) and then sit it with a glass of beer.

Weird, weird, weird

A little tender behind

I hurt.

All over, but especially my nose where I was kicked on the bouncy castle. Ok, I should know better.

(The words I have used in this title still make me laugh after 30+ years when I was on holiday and we were watching boats and my friend's dad, trying to point one out, said 'It's that one, dragging a little tender behind.' I tittered then, and I still do now)

Pee holes in the snow

After 5 full days off work, that's what my eyes look like.

Apart from the stress of refereeing Pork Chops and Tubson (the evil ones new insults for each other) we had a barbecue.

This involved a lot of bleach and elbow grease on Jonathan's part and shopping on mine, and quite a lot of collective pleading for a window of dry weather. This appeared to be highly unlikely during one particularly heavy storm on my way to the cash and carry when I was more tempted by the large rubber dinghy than the chicken drumsticks.

Cos I knew we wouldn't (or should that be shouldn't?) get too pissed on the Saturday night, we went out on Friday and it was still spitting with rain when we staggered in at 2.00am. When we got up bright and early on Saturday morning (11-ish, pretty early for me) it was glorious and although the sunshine wasn't constant all through the day, it never rained a drop and stayed warm.

A big thank you, to whom it may concern, for arranging top weather for us.

Belated congratulations

To Paul, for winning in our local pub quiz, thanks to my gout.

Demob happy

Woo hoo, another 3 days off work.

I am so looking forward to spending some quality time with my children.

(Now, where did I put the ear-plugs and boxing gloves?)

Thank you Dr Atkins

I am on a diet, and I have just realised the benefit of being on a diet this lunchtime.

Given a free choice, I like to eat combinations of things that are not seen as 'traditional'.

Being a married mum of 2, at home I have to take other people's tastes into consideration, after all not everyone likes bolognaise sauce poured over lettuce. And grabbing a snack for lunch at work usually involves a sandwich with limited options for fillings.

I have just had my lunch at my desk, I attracted a few strange looks accompanied by the rolling of eyes and the word 'Atkins' before being left to get on with it.

Hurray.

Boy for sale

If it isn't one, it's the other.

My son has spent most of this school holidays grounded. He was 'free' again on Saturday, but went away to a bike rally with the mad one (leaving me to suffer motor-mouth all on my own). They returned Sunday lunchtime and then he went out with his 'mates'.

He actually managed a whole 9 hours before he was caught doing exactly the same as before, and he's grounded yet again.

I really don't know how to get through to him to make him realise what a total prat he's being, but while I try to work that one out, if anyone would like to offer me a good price on a secondhand 12 year old I may well consider selling him.

Go to bed NOW

Why will my 9 year old daughter not go to bed? I'm knackered and I really think she should be in bed before me, or is that an old fashioned idea?

There are only us 2 here tonight and I just want her to go to bed AND BLOODY STAY THERE

Tempus really does fugit

I had 3 days off work to spend some time with my kids in the school hols.

I had a hair appointment on the Wednesday. I was so, so, so convinced that it was at 1.00pm that the reminder I set on my mobile (I have to set reminders for everything except breathing, but that day will come) said 1.00pm.

I set my alarm for 11.00, not so much to wake me up but to make sure I was up, dressed and ready to leave the house in good time. I woke up at 9, I was wide awake so I got up, had a couple of coffees and fags and mooched around a bit. At 11 my alarm went off so I went upstairs to get washed, dressed etc and I actually bothered to look at my appointment card and the appontment was at 11.

Not having a 'beam me up Scottie' device it would take me about 45 mins to an hour to get there so I had to ring and grovel (a lot) to try and re-arrange so it was decided that I would have it cut at 1.00 and go back on the Friday for it colouring (I never said I was a natural blond)

I had to go to a market research thing on Thursday. All in all I think I see more of the kids when I'm at work. My 3 days have simply disappeared, and I've done nothing with my little darlings.

Nevermind, having another 3 days off next week, but I'm sure I'll be able to find something to do to avoid seeing the kids between now and then.

And on and on and on it goes

I seriously lost the will to live by page 83 (Section 6 Transaction Processing) and so I pretended I'd finished the dullest of dull Member Banks Interface Manual.

So now I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and writing the spec for some poor hapless developer. Having covered several message types, now I've arrived at Reconciliation Control Messages and I simply don't give a shit any more.

Not that I ever did.

Lost weekend

This weekend has been one of those lovely, indulgent summer weekends.

I tried my best to only do what I wanted to do (apart from doing laundry, I can't avoid laundry for 2 days or it takes me weeks to catch up).

We had lots of people to stay on Saturday night, we had lots of wine and lots of laughs. Everyone was in a lovely summery mood and I was as happy as a happy thing.

And then my mum and dad called round (not actually to see me, but to see my sister). My sister and friend were still there and we were sat in the garden trying to recover with coffee and ciggies and water and my mum went off on one. She told me off about the state of my house, the behaviour of my children and my outfit (vest top and denim skirt to sit in the garden??) amongst other things. And what on earth was I thinking about getting drunk at my age, I'm such a disgrace.

What gets me is, why does she always manage to upset me? I'm 39 (plus vat) for chrissake. I AM old enough to decide how I want to live, surely. Why can't I stand up to her firmly, but politely, and point this out to her? Because if I do, she bursts into tears and accuses everyone of picking on her.

She eventually buggered off, and to spite her (and frighten the neighbours) I sunbathed topless and then went to the pub. That'll teach her.