L told me I need to do this.
We're moving in 16 days and whilst I am ready for a fresh start I'm also a little apprehensive about making new friends: I'm a marmite girl, so you either love me or hate me. Maybe not hate, maybe indifferent to me. Plus, when we first moved here I made friends with the 'wrong' people and it bought me trouble in the form of what I like to call patch politics.
I mentioned this to L and also said I was after a friend who was really into literature, like a university lecturer, and also some one who would be my gym/workout buddy.
That was the point L told me to manage my expectations. He's such a meany sometimes!
Thursday, 26 September 2013
Monday, 23 September 2013
Metamorphosis
This evening I watched UFC165 Jones v Gustaffson. Wow. A truly amazing fight, although a little disappointed there wasn't as much grappling and wrestling as I'd have liked, it was an amazing fight. I think Gustaffson was robbed and deserved to win...but I imagine there are a few of us arm chair referees who hold the same opinion.
Jones seemed to favour his legs and kicking, indeed he seemed to be using his legs and feet to do his utmost to avoid Gustaffson's anvil-like fists. That said, there were a few comical moments in which Gustaffson used his height and long legged advantage to 'run' away from Jones.
I have no idea what it is about UFC that brings out my more, shall we say, passionate side but there is no denying that it does. If I had been worried about turning into my grandmother whilst watching UFC - The Ultimate Fighter - this evening my worst fears were realised: I was on the edge of my seat, eyes glued to the screen, shouting various things at the tv. A full metamorphosis took place this evening and it happened quite naturally without me noticing it at all, I was punching a pillow and shouting 'Hit him! Hit him!'
Nanna, this little caterpillar has morphed into a fully fledged impassioned UFC butterfly...I can feel you laughing and smiling at me. Merde I hope you're proud.
Jones seemed to favour his legs and kicking, indeed he seemed to be using his legs and feet to do his utmost to avoid Gustaffson's anvil-like fists. That said, there were a few comical moments in which Gustaffson used his height and long legged advantage to 'run' away from Jones.
I have no idea what it is about UFC that brings out my more, shall we say, passionate side but there is no denying that it does. If I had been worried about turning into my grandmother whilst watching UFC - The Ultimate Fighter - this evening my worst fears were realised: I was on the edge of my seat, eyes glued to the screen, shouting various things at the tv. A full metamorphosis took place this evening and it happened quite naturally without me noticing it at all, I was punching a pillow and shouting 'Hit him! Hit him!'
Nanna, this little caterpillar has morphed into a fully fledged impassioned UFC butterfly...I can feel you laughing and smiling at me. Merde I hope you're proud.
Friday, 20 September 2013
Jack the Legend
Jack is our 5 year old next door neighbour. He lives with his mummy, his daddy and his little sister, Princess Sophie (the princess part has been added by me).
Jack is an utter legend for coming out with the most amazing bits of information, jokes and comically timed questions. Today was no exception....
L was working on the car, changing our disc brakes. Jack and Princess Sophie were out playing on their scooters, zoom vooming up and down the little stretch of pavement between their house and the lamp post. Naturally curious and always willing to lend a hand, Princess Sophie wants to help. L, is great, he lets her pass him tools and have a play. Inevitably Jack wants some of the action, so he squats down and L lets him have a go.
Mum wanders over and Jack looks up her to utter the immortal request, "mummy can we have L as our daddy and not Andrew?"
Needless to say a period of stunned silence ensues before L looks up at Gemma, Mummy pulls a face and says "Nah you wouldn't want that, I'd never get round to taking you to the park". Mummy eventually says "Let's not tell daddy that"
Yup. Jack is an utter legend!
Jack is an utter legend for coming out with the most amazing bits of information, jokes and comically timed questions. Today was no exception....
L was working on the car, changing our disc brakes. Jack and Princess Sophie were out playing on their scooters, zoom vooming up and down the little stretch of pavement between their house and the lamp post. Naturally curious and always willing to lend a hand, Princess Sophie wants to help. L, is great, he lets her pass him tools and have a play. Inevitably Jack wants some of the action, so he squats down and L lets him have a go.
Mum wanders over and Jack looks up her to utter the immortal request, "mummy can we have L as our daddy and not Andrew?"
Needless to say a period of stunned silence ensues before L looks up at Gemma, Mummy pulls a face and says "Nah you wouldn't want that, I'd never get round to taking you to the park". Mummy eventually says "Let's not tell daddy that"
Yup. Jack is an utter legend!
Thursday, 19 September 2013
A Calamity of Errors
The past two days have been a calamity of errors and so much so I'm filled with trepidation for today.
1. Tuesday I need to post a respirator L sold on Ebay, you read right a respirator. Don't ask, I've no idea. There I was in the post office desperately trying to cram this respirator into a padded envelope, because you know I don't, contrary to L's popular belief, have a surplus of boxes or postage material for things like respirators. I was forcing is square peg into a round whole because I'd forgot the tape I needed to take with me in order to buy a box, I know error part b to error 1.
2. One of the very people I was trying to avoid came into the post office...so I crept into the next aisle and hid, while I'm still battling with this respirator to stuff it in an envelope. I was so busy forcing it into the envelope I missed her coming round the corner! Ugh!! I'm not proud of what I did but it is funny: I avoided eye contact and pretended not to know her voice...I know mature!
3. Walking to the swimming baths to go for a swim...one of the other people I was avoiding ran passed me! Seriously. How hard is it to avoid people?! I deliberately left the house when I thought I'd have the least chance of bumping into people I didn't want to see...argh! Bloody small world. Humpf!
4. I failed a practice maths test by 1 mark. One lousy stupid mark! Are you kidding me?!
Right, so that was Tuesday.
Wednesday,
1. I cried in my tutor session. Yes, I'm 35 and I cried out of frustration in my tutor session. The maths isn't hard and when I work the sum out again....I know where I've gone wrong. Yes I'm ashamed of myself.
2. I dropped a spoon covered with mashed sweet potato on the floor showering it everywhere.
3. Apparently not having learnt anything from the spoon incident, I did the same with the metal masher...who knew mashed sweet potato could travel that far with such velocity?
4. I turned round caught the chopping board I was holding on the door and the knife that was on it fell off toward my toes! Toes we're okay....avocado everywhere! Of course, why wouldn't that happen and why wouldn't there be avocado everywhere. Green and orange...what a great colour combination!
5. The avocado I was freeing of its stone skidded out of hand and landed flesh side down on the banana stalks...yup you guessed it...avocado flesh everywhere.
6. I dropped a glass bottle in the floor shattering glass everywhere.
Phew! It's a wonder I made it in one piece through yesterday ha ha ha.
Anyone else had a day like that?...
1. Tuesday I need to post a respirator L sold on Ebay, you read right a respirator. Don't ask, I've no idea. There I was in the post office desperately trying to cram this respirator into a padded envelope, because you know I don't, contrary to L's popular belief, have a surplus of boxes or postage material for things like respirators. I was forcing is square peg into a round whole because I'd forgot the tape I needed to take with me in order to buy a box, I know error part b to error 1.
2. One of the very people I was trying to avoid came into the post office...so I crept into the next aisle and hid, while I'm still battling with this respirator to stuff it in an envelope. I was so busy forcing it into the envelope I missed her coming round the corner! Ugh!! I'm not proud of what I did but it is funny: I avoided eye contact and pretended not to know her voice...I know mature!
3. Walking to the swimming baths to go for a swim...one of the other people I was avoiding ran passed me! Seriously. How hard is it to avoid people?! I deliberately left the house when I thought I'd have the least chance of bumping into people I didn't want to see...argh! Bloody small world. Humpf!
4. I failed a practice maths test by 1 mark. One lousy stupid mark! Are you kidding me?!
Right, so that was Tuesday.
Wednesday,
1. I cried in my tutor session. Yes, I'm 35 and I cried out of frustration in my tutor session. The maths isn't hard and when I work the sum out again....I know where I've gone wrong. Yes I'm ashamed of myself.
2. I dropped a spoon covered with mashed sweet potato on the floor showering it everywhere.
3. Apparently not having learnt anything from the spoon incident, I did the same with the metal masher...who knew mashed sweet potato could travel that far with such velocity?
4. I turned round caught the chopping board I was holding on the door and the knife that was on it fell off toward my toes! Toes we're okay....avocado everywhere! Of course, why wouldn't that happen and why wouldn't there be avocado everywhere. Green and orange...what a great colour combination!
5. The avocado I was freeing of its stone skidded out of hand and landed flesh side down on the banana stalks...yup you guessed it...avocado flesh everywhere.
6. I dropped a glass bottle in the floor shattering glass everywhere.
Phew! It's a wonder I made it in one piece through yesterday ha ha ha.
Anyone else had a day like that?...
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Is it in the Genes???
Apparently I've been so busy trying not to and watching for the signs that I'm turning into my mother I missed the fact I'm turning into my nana! On my mother's side.
Since I am only 5ft it seems obvious to point out I suffer with a certain amount of aggression and small person syndrome, which might go some way to explain my interest in UFC. You're shocked, I can tell. I, as primary school teacher with a Masters in Modern and Contemporary English Literature hardly strike most as the type to watch and like that kind of thing.
The thing is...I love it! Last night L and I were watching UFC - The Ultimate Fighter with Meisha Tate and Ronda Rousey, I had started the show as a huge fan of Rousey but her rudeness and petulant insecure temper tantrums and postulating have made me start to despise her. It's immature and disgusting behaviour. But I digress. Last night I watched Rousey's Shayna take on Tate's Julianna and it was an amazing fight! Julianna as the underdog was written off from the start: younger, less experienced, lacking confidence....absolutely owned Shayna and I was over the moon. Aggressive arrogance is not only unattractive it screams for a humiliating ass kicking to put things back into perspective, like their ego.
As Julianna served Shayna a large helping of humble pie I was on the edge of my seat shouting 'Hit her! Just start pounding! Hit her in the face!'....which was entirely reminiscent of my nana shouting at the tv 'it him! it him!' in a heavy French accentuated accent as she watches a Bruno vs Tyson fight on the edge of her seat.
Like I said, I've been trying so hard to avoid turning into my mother....I missed the fact I've turned into nana...oh merde, to coin one of nana's phrases.
Since I am only 5ft it seems obvious to point out I suffer with a certain amount of aggression and small person syndrome, which might go some way to explain my interest in UFC. You're shocked, I can tell. I, as primary school teacher with a Masters in Modern and Contemporary English Literature hardly strike most as the type to watch and like that kind of thing.
The thing is...I love it! Last night L and I were watching UFC - The Ultimate Fighter with Meisha Tate and Ronda Rousey, I had started the show as a huge fan of Rousey but her rudeness and petulant insecure temper tantrums and postulating have made me start to despise her. It's immature and disgusting behaviour. But I digress. Last night I watched Rousey's Shayna take on Tate's Julianna and it was an amazing fight! Julianna as the underdog was written off from the start: younger, less experienced, lacking confidence....absolutely owned Shayna and I was over the moon. Aggressive arrogance is not only unattractive it screams for a humiliating ass kicking to put things back into perspective, like their ego.
As Julianna served Shayna a large helping of humble pie I was on the edge of my seat shouting 'Hit her! Just start pounding! Hit her in the face!'....which was entirely reminiscent of my nana shouting at the tv 'it him! it him!' in a heavy French accentuated accent as she watches a Bruno vs Tyson fight on the edge of her seat.
Like I said, I've been trying so hard to avoid turning into my mother....I missed the fact I've turned into nana...oh merde, to coin one of nana's phrases.
Thursday, 12 September 2013
Jealousy is NOT an attractive trait
L and I went to a friend's wedding a few weekends ago.
I wore an antique cream coloured floaty affair, it was an inch or two above the knee and came down pretty low but held my C cups firmly, and tastefully I add, in place. I teamed it with a black linen jacket that had the same shade of cream piping and clipped a cream feathery fabric rose to the lapel. I looked...okay. Fit for a military wedding at any rate.
Despite my C cups not being as much on show as some buxom ladies I still felt a little self-conscious: I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut I'm not sure about and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be. Plus, L hardly spoke to me ALL evening and when he did he was terse and fault finding. I think you would have been hard pressed to know we were married! Not that that kind of thing upsets me, usually, and ordinarily it wouldn't but he's been distant lately.
That's not all though and ordinarily I wouldn't have been threatened by him spending the better part of 2 hours speaking to a 22 year old officer...ordinarily...but I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut I'm not sure about and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be. Even that alone wouldn't usually be enough to make my green eyed monster surface either, at least not enough for me to show it.
What made me freak out was how much L enjoyed the attention. He did look handsome in his uniform, he always does. That said, L has never really noticed when women are coming on to him, in fact I'd say he probably only notices maybe 4 times out of 10 and that's being generous. He's modest and shy and self-conscious like that.
Beside L KNOWING this woman was hitting on him plus the fact he's STILL talking about it and mentioning her 2 weeks later...that's what has made me want become territorial and want to hiss and spit at this woman like an alley cat before screeching my war cry and launching myself (undignified and uncouthed) at her. Obviously I didn't and haven't (haven't seen her or I might still be doing that squinty eyed thing which says 'don't walk down any dark hallways alone') but I did nastily comment to L 'I didn't see anything worth feeling threatened about'. Meaning her.
I know, I know. I should know better, I should be secure in myself, I should trust him....etc But ugh I don't and it's definitely more about me than him.
What's a woman to do?...I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut im unsure of and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be.
I wore an antique cream coloured floaty affair, it was an inch or two above the knee and came down pretty low but held my C cups firmly, and tastefully I add, in place. I teamed it with a black linen jacket that had the same shade of cream piping and clipped a cream feathery fabric rose to the lapel. I looked...okay. Fit for a military wedding at any rate.
Despite my C cups not being as much on show as some buxom ladies I still felt a little self-conscious: I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut I'm not sure about and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be. Plus, L hardly spoke to me ALL evening and when he did he was terse and fault finding. I think you would have been hard pressed to know we were married! Not that that kind of thing upsets me, usually, and ordinarily it wouldn't but he's been distant lately.
That's not all though and ordinarily I wouldn't have been threatened by him spending the better part of 2 hours speaking to a 22 year old officer...ordinarily...but I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut I'm not sure about and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be. Even that alone wouldn't usually be enough to make my green eyed monster surface either, at least not enough for me to show it.
What made me freak out was how much L enjoyed the attention. He did look handsome in his uniform, he always does. That said, L has never really noticed when women are coming on to him, in fact I'd say he probably only notices maybe 4 times out of 10 and that's being generous. He's modest and shy and self-conscious like that.
Beside L KNOWING this woman was hitting on him plus the fact he's STILL talking about it and mentioning her 2 weeks later...that's what has made me want become territorial and want to hiss and spit at this woman like an alley cat before screeching my war cry and launching myself (undignified and uncouthed) at her. Obviously I didn't and haven't (haven't seen her or I might still be doing that squinty eyed thing which says 'don't walk down any dark hallways alone') but I did nastily comment to L 'I didn't see anything worth feeling threatened about'. Meaning her.
I know, I know. I should know better, I should be secure in myself, I should trust him....etc But ugh I don't and it's definitely more about me than him.
What's a woman to do?...I'm in my mid-thirties, sporting a short pixie crop hair cut im unsure of and am a good 10lbs heavier than I should be.
Wednesday, 11 September 2013
Wednesday Wondering
It has been a VERY LONG time since I last posted one of these posts and I would have sooner....but I've hardly been able to string a coherent sentence together, let alone had something intelligent or witty to say, for months.
So, without further preamble here is a taster of my more lucid mental meanderings...
Why does it always seem to rain when I have bed sheets to dry?
Why do I insist on watching crime documentaries like the one about the Night Stalker when I'm alone and then wonder why I have nightmares?
Why do I find it impossible to follow a recipe and stick to it even when I'm making it for the first time?
How many times can I watch Baby Boom before I grow bored?
Why have the neighbourhood cats decided to make my garden their own personal litter tray?
Is there anything that beats the sensation clean fresh sheets on skin?
Was I really excited to take my new Swifer mop for a test drive?...(yes, but please don't tell anyone!)
How am I going to be able to resist 'testing' the peanut butter and banana loaf I made for L before he gets come tomorrow?
How can L NOT like winter? I mean who wouldn't like mulled wine, presents, snuggling on the sofa, hearty homemade soups, making snowmen, snow days, food induced comas, everything cinnamon, all spice, nutmeg and ginger??? Mmmmm
Why do women cry at weddings?
When are the MOD going to get their act together sufficient enough to sort out the paperwork (I.e. actually have some) so L and I can start the moving process? It's not like he starts the job on the 14th October and is going away in between then....oh that's right he is!
Has my exercise fairy gone on holiday because I have ZERO motivation to work up a sweat? Unless it's soaking in the bath. With bubbles. And my kindle.
How long am I going to sit on the fence about the pixie crop haircut I got over two months ago and have had trimmed since?
Why can I NOT STOP eating? My clothes are getting tight:(
So, without further preamble here is a taster of my more lucid mental meanderings...
Why does it always seem to rain when I have bed sheets to dry?
Why do I insist on watching crime documentaries like the one about the Night Stalker when I'm alone and then wonder why I have nightmares?
Why do I find it impossible to follow a recipe and stick to it even when I'm making it for the first time?
How many times can I watch Baby Boom before I grow bored?
Why have the neighbourhood cats decided to make my garden their own personal litter tray?
Is there anything that beats the sensation clean fresh sheets on skin?
Was I really excited to take my new Swifer mop for a test drive?...(yes, but please don't tell anyone!)
How am I going to be able to resist 'testing' the peanut butter and banana loaf I made for L before he gets come tomorrow?
How can L NOT like winter? I mean who wouldn't like mulled wine, presents, snuggling on the sofa, hearty homemade soups, making snowmen, snow days, food induced comas, everything cinnamon, all spice, nutmeg and ginger??? Mmmmm
Why do women cry at weddings?
When are the MOD going to get their act together sufficient enough to sort out the paperwork (I.e. actually have some) so L and I can start the moving process? It's not like he starts the job on the 14th October and is going away in between then....oh that's right he is!
Has my exercise fairy gone on holiday because I have ZERO motivation to work up a sweat? Unless it's soaking in the bath. With bubbles. And my kindle.
How long am I going to sit on the fence about the pixie crop haircut I got over two months ago and have had trimmed since?
Why can I NOT STOP eating? My clothes are getting tight:(
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