Category Archives: Daily Life

Apr 24 2014
14 Comments
Daily Life

First We’ll Take Manhattan…

MinionsManhattan.

We made it. Thanks to a tribunal payout, I treated The Teenager to five days in Manhattan, a city I used to love and live in.

He was overwhelmed. The view from our hotel room, the vast array of fast food outlets (natch), the endless shopping for t-shirts, the atmosphere. It was a film set come true.

We sailed around Manhattan, circumnavigated the Statue of Liberty, saw the whole city from the top of the Empire State building, wandered the streets, peered in windows. We chatted to NYPD cops. To Starbucks employees, bar staff, random Minions (see photo),

For me, New York reignited my love of life. Life and energy were  everywhere. I spoke to a mother and daughter from North Carolina, putting in place a bucket wish list. I spoke to Irish bar-tenders who had moved there and lost everything in the storm but were still trucking on, plus he makes the best martinis that side of the Atlantic (The Hyatt, off Times Square).

Anyway, yes, New York was a breath of fresh air. After over two years pretty much house bound through job loss and loneliness, I realised that life goes on. And on. It happens whether I like it or not. I have been a bit of a hermit. So here’s what I will take home with me:

  • Life is waaaaaay bigger than my little world.
  • I can wear what I like, when I like. Even if I am fat ( I know, I know).
  • There is a whole world out there, ready to explore.
  • MS may curtail stuff, but stuff it.

Fair play, MS reared its ugly head. And then some. I was in Macey’s and felt the earth move (really).

After panicking and looking around me I finally got the picture. It was me. I was on the top floor. But, hey, I had a brand new Ralph Lauren trench coat. MS be damned. I went back to the hotel and admired my beautiful coat before conking out for three hours…..

Tagged , , , ,
Apr 14 2014
16 Comments
Daily Life

I Only Went and Did It…

Starving WriterI can’t keep away, can I?

I’ve missed blogging and frequently find myself composing random blog posts in my head, so here I am again. I feel like one of the Rolling Stones on their endless comeback tours, although I’d be tucked up in bed by 9pm with my earplugs in.

Anyway, much excitement chez moi. I applied for the MA in creative writing and, um, I was offered a place in September. Eeek.

To pay for it, I may need to find a suitably grotty garret and eat marked-down bread every day (baked beans would blow the budget), huddled in moth-ridden blankets – but I feel that will only add to my new persona as ‘A Writer’.

In other developments:

  • The Teenager complained his human rights had been violated by my recent refusal to buy him a Domino’s pizza and a large bottle of Fanta. You can imagine how that conversation went.
  • I have started a ‘notebook where I jot down words I don’t know the meaning of’ in preparation for my course. An expository prologue would denote that this is a Byzantine, Sisyphean task.
  • Strangely, I developed tennis elbow last week without picking up a tennis racket since 1984.
  • I cut my own hair in a moment of frustration. Not to be recommended, although I’m pleasantly surprised at the outcome (after several angsty days). Plus I’ll save a fortune on hair masks, intensive moisturisers, olive oil, eggs, etc…
  • The cat continues to bring little field mice into the house and drop them at my feet then bowing and stepping back with an innocent grin before pointing to her food bowl. Must remember to wear socks or slippers in the morning. Mice entrails feel a bit squishy underfoot at 6am.
  • The Teenager has lodged an official complaint. I must not, under any circumstances, feed him any of the following: leeks, tomatoes, onions, spring onions, blue cheese of any description, chili flakes, tarragon, mustard, garlic or enchilladas. I have been encouraged to buy food only at shops full of freezers. Anything with chips apparently. And gravy.

Apart from that, life continues as normal. The Teenager is due back in two hours after a long weekend in London. We are off to New York on Wednesday – making good use of my tiny tribunal payout. Yup, The Teenager is coming to Manhattan. Watch this space, it should be a blast…

Tagged , ,
Apr 04 2014
32 Comments
Daily Life

Wowsers…

Wow. You guys are INCREDIBLE.

So many lovely messages and emails.

you decideI miss you guys and you’ve certainly got me thinking. I too miss blogging about me and The Teenager. Believe me, he’s not getting any easier:

‘You DON’T understand me.’

‘HOW can I function on any less than five yoghurts a day? And FYI I don’t like prune’

‘WHY is there no junk food in the fridge? What’s with the green stuff?’

Anyway, I have been inspired by you to apply for a Creative Writing MA. No, really. Me, who said they would never, not never take another exam not never again.

And here’s the crux. Should I learn the saxaphone or take the MA? You decide…..

Bxxx

Cxxx (Christopher, otherwise known as the Insanely Stroppy Teenager)

And Dora (mouse-killer extraordinaire) X

Tagged
Mar 14 2014
6 Comments
Daily Life

48 Hours

home aloneHa Lay Loo Ya!

Much as I adore The Teenager (and he is totes cute), it’s always a little bit lovely to have the house all to myself when he goes to London for the weekend.

The house. To myself. For 48 delicious hours. I always have such great plans. This weekend I will mostly:

  • Put a face pack and hair mask on.
  • Eat a £10 meal deal all on my own (shame I ate the starter and dessert yesterday. Oops).
  • Wear a kimono after a long, long shower without being laughed at.
  • Talk to the plants, especially Bertie.
  • Go to bed early with a pile of magazines and a new book. 
  • Desperately catch up on Book Club book I have yet to read. We meet on Monday, gah.
  • Handwrite a pile of cards to my dear friends I have shamefully neglected recently.
  • Listen to music really, really loud on my headphones without worrying that The Teenager is yelling at me from upstairs.

In reality, I will do none of these things. I’m kidding myself. I will mostly be:

  • Making inroads into my teetering pile of ironing.
  • Organising new house insurance. ‘Citing.
  • Cleaning the microwave. And maybe the oven if I’m feeling adventurous.
  • Changing the cat litter tray.
  • Putting clean sheets on the bed.
  • Talking to the plants.
  • Scrubbing the grout in the bathroom with an old toothbrush (strangely therapeutic).

Why do I do this? I should be out, painting the town a slightly murky, dusky pink.

I could be theatering, cinemaring, bar hopping, gadding about town. I guess the grass is always greener. When I would like to go out, I can’t. When I can’t, I’m stunned by inertia (aka laziness).

I will no doubt end up in bed at 7pm, shattered by working all week and being called ‘Half Shift’ at regular intervals. My cunning plan to learn Japanese over the weekend will be shelved. I will also not be teaching myself macrame. Or decoupage. Or glass painting.

I will stick to one of my first points though. I will blast out ‘I Am Woman’, shortly followed by ‘Those Were The Days My Friend’. And if I’m feeling particularly maudlin, you can’t beat a bit of Velvet Underground.

Don’t panic. It’s not a pity party. It’s a ‘can’t be bothered’ party…

Tagged , , , ,
Mar 03 2014
6 Comments
Daily Life

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall…

mirrorI am writing this by flickering candlelight, with slightly shaky fingers (shakier than my normal MS-y fingers).

Yesterday, I had the misfortune to think that clothes shopping would be a most excellent idea. I had a bit of spare money (The Teenager was away, natch), so what could be more soothing for the soul than treating myself?

Well. On entering the store, I was accosted by a very, very, very young and very skinny slip of a thing, no doubt a size sub-zero, who asked me in a bored voice, ‘wanna sign up for our catalogue?’ Nope. ‘You looking for anyfink special, like?’ Nope. ‘Help you with anyfink?’ Nope. Um, can I shop now please? ‘yeah, whatevs’.

I shook her off and wandered round the store, picking things up and hooking them over my arm so the sizes wouldn’t show. I must have looked distinctly dodgy as a girl darted over and asked, ‘can I yelp you?’, eyeing up my bag. Nope.

I sought sanctuary in the changing room. Mistake. Big mistake. I waited for the girl on the door to finish her very important phone conversation, ‘yeah, gotta go, oh I know, loves ya, yeah, you too babes’ (rolls eyes, sighs, stomps over to me and slaps a round disc with a 5 on it into my hand). I shuffled off to the cubicle and sealed the curtains each side. Just in case.

Right. trousers. Stumble over attempting to change into them. Get the fright of my life. Who’s that person looking back at me?

It was me. In eight different, unforgiving angles. In all my glory. I slumped to the plastic chair. Really? Seriously?  That’s me side-on? I turned my face this way and that, examining my double triple chin. The fine network of wrinkles spreading out from under my eyes. I looked…..old and tired.

I gulped back the tears and took the trousers off, but not quickly enough to avoid seeing how I looked from behind, an image now seared indelibly in my brain. Pulling myself together and dabbing at my eyes, I took my stuff, paid and left.

Back home and as deflated as a popped balloon, I examined myself in every single mirror in the house, the cat trotting behind me like it was some kind of game. I googled ‘get rid of a double/triple chin fast’ and ‘how to lose 4 stone in 4 weeks’.

My tip? Dim the lights. Cheaper than a neck lift. Extra bonus – you don’t see the dust, but that’s another story…

Tagged , , , , ,
← Older posts
Newer posts →