Wednesday, 29 October 2008

Big Brother will get you

Oh Lordy! What was that thing I watched on Monday night? It scared me to death! There were people in the Big Brother house as usual and the country got infested by Zombies/vampires, Davina McCall became a victim, and it was a few survivors and the housemates that did not get "done". Was frightened witless! And to top it all, its on every night this week - God knows what channel, E4 I think.

Last night at work, i wouldn't go in the toilets in case a zombie was waiting for me. And i was too afraid to go to the loo in the middle of the night because of the same thing. Honestly, i'm looking at 50! I am not that little girl who hid behind the sofa when Dr Who was on! I suppose Darleks are quite similar tho'. They are imperishable. But at my age???

I remember going to see Shawn of the Dead because i thought it would be a comedy like "Spaced" or something. And that terrified me for months! It took me a long time to look through some french doors! Is it me? Or do we never grow up really?

Can't take a shower without thinking of Anthony Perkins! There's a small subway up the road that i can never go through without thinking of Clockwork Orange! And i always think twice before looking in my warderobe in case someone puts a polythene bag over me (Black Christmas 1974 version).

Why don't i ever learn!!! My first ever X film was Theatre of Blood with Vincent Price. And it took me a long time to sleep next to another bed in case there was a severed head on it like Arthur Lowe's!

Are these just signs of great films? that they stay with you always? or that I should know better by now!!!

Monday, 27 October 2008

Swinging London

Still fuming from the day before , so Husband, Son and i go off to London on a wet Sunday morning. We walk down to the South Bank from Waterloo and we part company outside the Hayward Gallery. They are going down to Gabriels Wharf, I am going to see Andy Warhol's exhibition.

I have to say I can understand Prince Charles' beef about these complex of buildings on the South Bank. Going up the windy concrete stairs to the gallery, i am reminded of the worst and grimest of council estates. The very uncared for ones. Now i am loyal to council estates because i was brought up on one. And i know some of them can be really nice with spacious gardens and houses but this concrete jungle can make you forget such a thing.

I used to have a crush on Andy Warhol when i was 12 and wanted to run off to New York and marry him,. Luckily we grow out of these things.....I think. I don't know why i felt that about him at that particular age. I wouldn't even be allowed in to see his films then... I think he was just an enigma.

The exhibition was a bit messy. Some works by him, some by others. And there was a TV documentary on his Factory that was playing which made me glad i didn't bring my son in with me. This was the one that had been banned from being shown on the BBC in 1971 (when i was 12 incidentally) and i have to say, i saw their point! Polaroids of naked blokes, girls painting with their tits. Good grief! Now i know why i was infactuated with him. And there is a part of me that still is. am so sad i'll never be able to meet him.

Told Pals' mum about her ex-husbands' appalling assumption yesterday. She was furious. She hates the Bastard anyway and she said it was because he was small Down There. I didn't really want to know that - i mean Bless her, but i'd rather she'd kept that to herself. Anyway she told me not to listen to the stupid git. Feel bad about stirring it but pleased he's going to get a flea in his ear on his return!

Wonder what Andy Warhol would have done.

Saturday, 25 October 2008

Another one for the List...

Well, of all the .......! Daughter going away for half-term with Pal and her Dad, who moved to the country some time ago. He comes to collect her at about 11.30 this morning.

We get talking over a cup of tea and we mull over our girl's secondary schools. He is not happy with Pal's. And then it gets to that invetible subject of the Grammar School both our kids tried for and failed to get in. My wounds have healed over this - I think. And it happened nearly two years ago. But His wounds are obviously still sore, there is still sadness in his eyes. But he has been talking himself out of it as he said That the Grammar school get the creme of the creme of the bright ones. And that our two girls would have struggled there. I glared at him. Bloody cheek of the Man! He can slag off his own daughter - not mine!

Daughter's exam went very badly for her, its true. But that doesn't mean nosy interfering single dad's can stick their beak in and comment on their progress! Oh, he went straight on my Bastard list I can tell you! I wanted to tell him that Daughter got invited to join the Talented and Gifted in Maths but didn't want to hurt my Daughter's mate. Its not her fault she has a pushy and competitive Dad. I mean really! In my own house too!

Have given out all my invitations now for my birthday party. I phoned one of my old pals the other night for a chat and to see if he was coming. He said he would be sending me an answer as to whether he could come or not shortly. This obviously means No but I felt I would have respected him more if he'd had told me over the phone. Not be all pompous like that. He declined to meet for lunch one Sunday as he had no money and couldn't find a job. I mean i understand that but was a bit hurt. He could just come over or we could just meet up and walk round London or something.

He is wavering around the Bastard List but is not actually on it - yet.

Going to spend the evening sulking and making cushions.

Thursday, 23 October 2008

Just a quick one before I go to work. Got to help set up a new shop today at the rugby stadium. Hate the thought of it - why don't i just say no??? Still, 8 pound an hour is 8 pound an hour! It will help towards my 50th birthday party in 6 weeks. Moral of the tale: Never book something you can't really afford. Its a posh room in a council building and even with the 20% discount for being a resident, its a bloody fortune. A fortune I have to pay the balance of next week. Part of that is a £ 250 deposit for any damages but i won't get that back until at least March, knowing that council. And assuming there are no damages to claim.

Told them today i can only work till 3. Pretended I had childcare "issues". I couldn't do the normal 10 tll 6. I'll go mad! And the other week there was some right old cow there who kept bossing us all around. Snarled at her in the end but you do get these little Hitlers who think they're an executive or something. But they're only casual like me who have kids and don't normally work. I don't know why they have to be weird about these things.

Went to see my mum this week. Felt a bit sheepish after our row on the phone. But i had 200 Benson and Hedges with me to soothe the wounds. She's a cheap type like me, can be so easily bought. Personally i think they're the best sort to know.

She gave me money to get a gift credit card thing for my two grown up nephews at Costa Coffee. Now you'd think this would be easy to do. But no. One Costa in Kingston drew a complete blank, one told me to go on-line - i told him to go somewhere else! - Would M&S or WH Smith ever tell you to go on-line instead of taking the bloody money and giving over the gift card??? - and some other Costa kept telling me that I can top it up and gave me a form to fill in! I just came out and said it by that point "you don't know what i'm talking about, do you?" - and left quickly.

So I was reduced to Starbucks - which i hate. But say what you like about them, they took my mums' money and gave me two credit cards with 25 pound each on them. They did not piss about,. I also got a voucher for a free coffee next time i came in. But I don't like you, I wanted to say. But didn't. Will give it to Husband, he likes all that rubbish.

I go to a little cafe for my takeaway coffee. i won't go to those big chains unless i have to. And their coffee always tastes like they've poured boiled water over a jar of Nescafe. it blows my head off !

Well, time for a fag and then work - wah!

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

Well, really....

Phew! Finally managed to get on here. Was about to do a blog after lunch but Mate came round an hour earlier. The silly cow. When i say a quarter to two, i mean a quarter to two. Not one! She always does that - comes earlier - then blames me!

What a frustrating morning in the local high street. I'm the vice chair of the PTA and all i really have to do is get the licence to serve alcohol for the school events and that. I go to get the license laminated at KallKwick or whatever its called - they tell me to come back in half an hour while they get the laminated machine warmed up! For Gods sake, they're a professional printers, surely their machine would be turned on! I may as well get it done at school. I mean i try to avoid that as the school secretary flaps around - funny cow she is - but at least she wouldn't take half an hour about it!

And then when i go and collect it after pissing around in M&Co. trying to kill time, i come across the worse combination in front of me. A mum with a double buggy talking on a mobile phone! This must surely be the deadliest combination. That means she yacks loudly on the phone while her toddler can get up to all sorts 'cos mum's not concentrating! The little cow kept pushing the buggy against my legs. I shoved the bloody thing back. I tell you, about a year ago, i nearly ran a little boy over because the mum was talking on her phone and wasn't watching him. Slag!

These people are the limit. And cyclists. One knocked on my car window the other day telling me to move over while waiting at the lights. And then the bastard jumped the lights himself! Git.

Well, thats my little rant. Sad day tomorrow, it will be a year since Dad died. Will probably go shopping - he would have wanted it that way.

Sunday, 19 October 2008

Time Out

Finally able to get on here. What a weekend! As i've said before, my friends' dad is over from Mexico so on Saturday I go with him and my pal to Portobello Market. Or at least I try to meet them there. Completely lose Westbourne Grove where they are waiting for me. I swore it was in the other direction. A very nice man from the Salvation Army gave me proper directions. Gave him a quid. So we were both happy.

Portobello market is magical, it really is but I would really warn people about the crowds. It was only 11 am and I could not make the few yards up the road to meet them. It was like a solid wall of people. When I finally met Mate and Dad and we went to all the antique stalls, I was reminded of why I agreed to join them. He knew nearly every antique dealer there. He had a stall here himself 20 years ago and a lot of people still remembered him! He's a bit like that - very vibrant. And it was kind of magical watching him talk intimately with these people - or at least being part of the crowd. Being included. And to see him haggling over nice pieces that he would make into jewellery back home.

I myself bought two roasting pans, 3 Oyster card holders and a bangle. Only the roasting pans were for my benefit, the other things were for kids and Husband. In the old days - well, late '80s - I would buy armfuls of those vintage dresses. None of them go near me now. It was alright when I was a mere size 14, as an 18 I can't even put them over my head. What did big women do then?

Bought some Thai Noodles off a stall and buggered off back home. Husband sulky because he hadn't had any time to himself (diddums) and kids screechy and brittle - jet lag and sugar no doubt.

Today, had a goodbye lunch with Mate, her Mum and her Dad, he was off to Mexico in the morning. Made him a cushion. He wasn't very enamoured with it - the ungrateful git! Was stuffing that thing at 11 o'clock last night! And I used my best Kath Kidson fabric, the one with the cowboys on it. I don't think he likes it if anyone else is creative. Mates' Boyfriend (an artist too) is a bit like that.

Came back to making kids' tea, changing Son's bed (there was blood on the sheets), doing a wash, sweeping the floor and will shortly be washing Daughter's hair (those bloody nits!!). It seems you have one lunch out, you pay for it dearly in blood.

Going to my Mum's tomorrow. We made it up after the row. Or rather I apologised, even if She was in the wrong - which she was. But now ironically i'd rather stay here and clean the house.
Oh well, chicken kievs for supper!

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

What happened???

What an extraordinarily dreadful day its been today. Sometimes these things come upon us so unexpectedly.

Taking a jet-lagged burnt out Son to school today and he is in floods of tears. Apparently we hate him because he's not as clever as his Sister (where did that one come from?). He's been moved into the second maths group thats easy and boring and he's not popular, or at least the most popular.

Now I'm with it enough to know that a lot of this is tiredness talking. But I can't help feeling a crushing disappointment that he's in the second group. Especially as last term he was doing extra curricular maths with the top group. I wish that school would stop pissing him about. Either put him in one group or another. He says his friends in the top group show off what they're learning which is work he's not given. I assure him they're not all That really and they're big headed little sods who no-one will eventually like. This is about as good as a chocolate ashtray to him.

He is anxious to know if it looks as if he's been crying when we reach school. I assure him it doesn't, even though his eyes are redder than a post box. What else can I say? But I leave him there wanting to throw myself off Richmond Bridge.

Then I get so depressed I phone in sick to work. I can't let Son go to a childminder in the miserable state he's in. It didn't seem fair. But then I get guilty, i know they're short-staffed at the Supermarket. Anyway I meet him from school. Does he appreciate it? Does he Hell? I should have just let him get picked up!

Then later my Mum phones. She has to cancel me going on Friday for some reason or another. Then she asks if i'm free tomorrow. I agree readily. Then she realises that my brother's taking her to the shops. Asks me if i can come later. Well, of course, i can't come later! I have two kids coming home from school. Why can't my brother come later? I ask. The one who lives down the road from her and that she can see anytime. Oh No, she says she didn't want to have to put him off.

I haven't seen my Mum for nearly two weeks. I've been in America. And I can't go at the weekend. I've got two hundred Bensons for her and some present or another. But no, She can't put Brother off and she can't ask him to come later but she can ask me who lives the other side of the M25 if I can.

I put the phone down with a curt goodbye. This is not good. Its nearly a year since my Dad died. This is not the right time to do this. But i'm so pissed off with her.

To cap it all, both kids have got nits. So the house stinks of Tee Tree oil and Neem shampoo. Oh God, we've taken them to America with us and everything. I tell you I am going to bed and never getting up again!!

Tuesday, 14 October 2008

Coming to America

Haven't been able to get on here for a few days. We went to Newark, or was it New Jersey, for Husband's mate's wedding.

It was the first time the kids had flown. Its strange how they're a minority now among their peers. When I was their age America and flying were just impossible dreams. You had to make do with The Munsters and Mary Tyler Moore to learn about America. Its funny how people now take this travelling business for granted.

When Husband was little, he and his family went to Majorca on holiday. Only comfortable and well-to-do people did that sort of thing then, and that holiday was the equivalent of a villa in Tuscany now. How different that sort of thing is now.

I myself hadn't flown for years so it was sort of the first time for me again. After a 7 hour flight and a one hour wait at immigration - why do they remotely presume i'd want to live in their stupid country - I could finally have a fag outside. God, did i go dizzy! Son panicked. I assured him it was only the fag. And the heat. Why was it so bloody hot! It was October for Gods sake and I only had winter clothes with me!

Felt like I was about to fall over with tiredness so I washed my hair and sat outside the Marriott hotel for a fag. Overheard these two black guys talking. They were talking just the way they did on Larry David or one of Daughter's Disney comedies that she constantly watches. They said things like Man and chillin' and Jive. That was the most exciting bit for me. Something that was just like on the telly.

Bit disappointed with the cars. They were mostly those big 4 wheel drive things that we have here. Expected a few cadiliacs and mustangs. Still the last time I saw an American car was on Bewitched.

We drove to Devon in Pennsylvania the next day. A beautiful and pretty town. But you don't get shops like the newsagent or a Happy Shopper. Its all drive-in things. But their houses were beautiful. White wooden things with endless storeys. And the church where Husbands' mate got married (for the second time) was like out of a picture. And what a carasmatic minister! He looked like a film star! Better than our poor down-at-heel vicar.

Afterwards the reception was at a posh country club with valet parking (why can you not park it yourself?) but it was all a bit tacky. And we felt disloyal to his first wife - also an American girl. This second wife seemed very pushy and bossy - still, so was his first. I think he just likes that sort of thing. But it did seem strange, Husband's old university friend from Humberside being immersed in feeding each other wedding cake and that. Some people just fit into other cultures like an old shoe. I never could.

The next day we went to their house - God Knows Where that bloody place was - but it was just amazing. But I was so tired - I couldn't sleep at that hotel - I wasn't really tuned into anything.

We had to go back on Sunday night and it was Son's 10th birthday on the Monday while we were still going over the Atlantic. I told the staff on British Airways but they didn't really put theirselves out for him. Although a very nice steward - why are they all gay? - explained they didn't take kids into the cockpit anymore. It wasn't allowed and it stays locked now. Yes, I understood but they could have done something for him really. That was the impression I got with British Airways, they couldn't really be arsed. But for the price of flying with them, they could bloody well make an effort.

Heathrow Monday at 9.30 am - could finally have a fag. Oh Boy! Unless they reinstate smoking again I'm not going further than Cumbria, I tell you! What was the point of buying 400 duty free Rothmans when you couldn't bloody smoke 'em?

When I went to Mexico City in 1994 I puffed my way through the 12 hour journey along with this Belgian woman. ( My Kids don't remotely believe me.) Those were the days!

Tuesday, 7 October 2008

Farting About

Extremely spoilt Son is going to be 10 next Monday. First of all he agreed to going to a Chelsea Match and not having a party. (Have you seen the price of those tickets??) And then we were going to have an impromptu party on the local Green (football!). And then we had a big row. Finally I booked a swimming party and to hell with the consequences.

The thing about those parties is that you literally can invite the whole world (up to 25 anyway) and can really have a good splash about and a bit of cake afterwards in the room upstairs. So it was with this in mind I am writing out nearly 20 invites.

Gave the first one to his closest friend's mum, who is also Son's childminder on certain days.
"Oh no!", she says, "is that the last Sunday of half term?"
Certainly is, I tell her, knowing whats coming.
And I was right. She is going to be in Devon for that last part of half term.
Me as patient as ever, tells her to forget it. And she exclaims that her Son will never forgive her if he misses out.
Come then, I reply , an edge to my voice.
She will never be able to make that long journey in time.
Forget it then , I say
Oh, she says , But her Son couldn't bear it if he missed it.

I walk away. She's a good woman, her hearts in the right place, she was lovely to me when Dad died (her own sadly succumbed to cancer) but God Forgive Me, she is so unbelievably scatty! You're either coming or you're not. Stop pissing about and umming and ah-ing! But how can I say that to the poor cow. I guess there's just some people in life who make things difficult for themselves.

There was a woman once in my daughter's old year who, when my mate was moving away, was asked by me if she wanted to come with us for a Goodbye drink. Well she told me at least 4 times why she couldn't come. And apparently she told my soon-to-be gone mate 3 times. And she also wanted to know how long we would be there that night in case she DID come. For Gods sake! Say Yes or you say No.

Is it me? My last born is now in year 5 so is my tolerance of scatty mothers running low? Or have they just got scattier!

Went out last night with my mate whose Dad was over from Mexico. Asked me to pick him up from where he was staying in Fulham. Just off the Munster Road she said. Well, that could have been in Carlisle for all that meant to me. Where the hell is Munster Road? She thinks I go and hang out in Fulham at weekends or something? The only time I knew Fulham was when I read Up The Junction and then it was dead rough and no-one would touch it!

Eventually found the place and picked up mate's Dad who've i've always had a semi crush on (he's gay!). Told him straight out I had no idea how to get to this resturant. Well, he directed me straight there. Some people are so good at London! I mean the man lives in Mexico for Gods sake. Although he did spend 20 years here when mate was born. Why is everyone better at London than me! Its not fair.

Had a super time tho'. Gave me a chance to get all dressed up for a change. Although he criticsed me for not wearing stillettos - bless!!

Thursday, 2 October 2008

Going to London....

Decided to have a day out of the house yesterday. Thought I'd go - for some ungodly reason - to Harrods. Haven't been there for a long time and it used to be a lovely place near Christmas. Anyway wanted to carry out my Mum's instructions to "treat myself".

What have they done to that place??? Its become so garish! I found this with Selfridges a few months ago, its really all in your face! Bright colours, loud music, its not only young people who visit these places!

Couldn't find a store guide for love nor money. Come back, Debenhams, all is forgiven! It was a bit like Thorpe Park, you have to get a leaflet and map from some desk or another. 7 floors! Couldn't remember it being that big. Went to the Ladieswear department. Ignored the designer stuff, even if i could bring myself to fork out thousands of pounds for some flimsey item, they don't go near my size (size 18). Generally anyway.

Went to the "Plus" department. Their decor was a little more subdued but still had the loud disco music. Saw a super jacket thing - £1400! No way! But then there was a nice two piece, Burnt Lime the colour was called, a mere £200 for the set. Which in Harrods seemed to be a bargain. But i wasn't crazy about it enough to spend all that money on it. I would gladly carry out my mums' wishes and buy something a bit posh but i've really got to like the thing to do it.

Ended up buying a butter dish from their china department. One i could have got in a shop near my mum's, never mind, its got the Harrods price label on it, will keep that on there as a souvenier. And some paper plates for my birthday party in december. But they've got a much better choice in nearby Kingston. Just seemed a shame to come away empty-handed.

Couldn't visit Harrods without going to the Food Hall. So bought this rye bread that weighed more than the butter dish and a seasame pretzil. Got ripped off at the Deli counter with this cheese but then i get ripped off at every deli i go to! But i love to look at their crystalised fruits and that. The things that make Harrods unique.

Talking of that, they don't sell their own fags anymore. They used to taste horrible but you could keep the lovely green packet with the building on the front. But they only do cigars now. Why are they acceptable and fags are not? its still smoking.

Came home exhausted. And had to go to work. 3 people had called in sick and one said their car had broken down and will be there when they can. I was going to use that excuse next friday! bloody hell!

Cooked tangy salmon last night with pine nuts and breadcrumbs. It was rubbish.