Tag Archives: America

Apr 15 2014
18 Comments
The Teenager

Ready Or Not…

Noo YoikO to the M to the G.

We are getting ready for New York. Manhattan. A Times Square hotel. Bonkers.

A year ago, it seemed a suitable use of my paltry tribunal payout (minus legal fees). Nothing could make up for the year of bullying and intimidation I went through, but this would surely make amends to The Teenager – ‘…..um, (sniff) just give me a minute……(wail)…..(meh)….’ He put up with a lot.

So here we are. I have two suitcases wide open. In mine – pyjamas, earplugs, moisturiser, face pack, shower gel, trainers, pen, notebook, clothes (natch), headphones, challenging novel, bubble bath, wet wipes, more wet wipes, NY guide book….

In The Teenager’s – shampoo, Lynx, SPACE for Tootsie Rolls he plans on buying and selling at school for a premium.

It’s weird. I spent a very happy six months living in New York. I was young and daft. A mere 19 years old.  And now I’m taking my son there. Strange. I lived next door to a Snapples sales-man in the west village. But that was 20 years ago. It’s all changed.

What will he make of it? Could be interesting…

How will I fare with MS and Manhattan? Should I sit in a cafe and wave The Teenager off? He goes to London every month, so it’s not that different?

Will he be inspired, as I was? Will he see the similarity between the Glasgow grid system and Manhattan?

Who knows. But what I do know is his must-do list:

  • Tootsie Rolls
  • American t-shirts
  • A hot dog from a hot dog vendor
  • A taxi
  • A fire escape
  • Steam rising from the metro (underground?)
  • McDonalds
  • Taco Bell
  • Wendy’s

Wish me luck…

 

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Dec 02 2013
12 Comments
My Ramblings

Life Sure Ain’t Like The Movies…

popcornA funny thing happened the other day.

I was lying on the sofa reading a book, plucking Maltesers from a box I’d craftily hidden from The Teenager.

The next thing I knew I had woken with a start, the book (and Maltesers) having crashed to the floor.

This may sound boringly insignificant, but I thought stuff like that only happened in movies for dramatic effect – just like you can see the Eiffel Tower from any window in Paris.

I ranted to the cat after she’d stopped chasing the Maltesers round the floor – how could anyone fall asleep so quickly that they couldn’t put their book down first?

Either explanation is most unpalatable:

a) old age creeping up on me

b) worsening MS fatigue

Mind you, if my life were a movie, there would be a conveniently-placed handsome man who would gently prise the book from my fingers, wrap me in a cashmere blanket and gaze upon my slumbering face before dimming the lights and nestling another log on the open fire.

Furthermore, kindly neighbours would have left a pile of casseroles and lasagnas outside my door during my worst relapses two years ago. They would also have surprised me by putting up my Christmas tree and arranging for an angelic choir to sing carols outside my door, snow falling softly.

On recovery, I would magically spring the money to spend a month somewhere exotic to ‘find myself’. There would be shots of me wandering sadly down golden-sand beaches. Towards the end however, I would be laughing and learning important, life-affirming lessons from the wise natives, arriving back home with a new-found sense of purpose in life.

But life isn’t like the movies. When I woke and found my book and chocolates on the floor, I was cold, I hadn’t started dinner and I found The Teenager hanging off an open fridge door bemoaning the lack of junk food (‘everyone else in school gets to have it, why not me, you meanie? What am I supposed to do with a tangerine?’).

I explained to him what had happened. He was unperturbed (‘mum, you’re, like, old, you know? It’s what old people do, my grandad does it all the time’).

Out of interest, I asked him what he would like to see come true from the movies. He didn’t hesitate – ‘one of those huuuuuuuge American fridges crammed with junk food and my own den in the basement  and……(I stopped listening after five minutes)……

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