Ok, 'tis about time I thanked everyone for their lovely Christmas gifts. It was a funny one this year and I got most of my presents after I'd actually seen the people who gave them to me. So I would've have thanked them then but wouldn't have known what I was thanking them for. If that makes sense. Even if it doesn't as long as those who know they need to be thanked are thanked.
Damn! I just inhaled coffee and coughed it all over the keyboard. I bet that looked really sexy.
Big Brother is finally over. I'm glad that Jade and her 2 wenches acted the way they did. Although those girls claim they are not racist they have shown how people use cultural differences to alienate and isolate someone. They did this to Shilpa because they were jealous of her not because she was of a different race. Either way, their behaviour was unacceptable. I'd like to think if they were bullying Shilpa without any references to her culture that they would've been booted out anyway. Sadly, I don't think it would've been the case. So when it came to the final there was the gay Welsh man, 2 Americans, one white and one afro-carribean, and an Indian woman. Do the British public not like the British celebrities? Are British celebs (if we could even call them that) just an embarassment to us?
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Driver's Ed
Bertram has very kindly offered to pay for driving lessons for me. For a while now I have been using the excuse that I can't afford them but now that burden has been lifted thanks to Bertie Boy. I am excited and nervous. Driving is something that I hadn't thought about doing 'til sometime in my 30's. Although I knew it was something I should do sooner rather than later.
So I've decided to be very dedicated. I went to get my form for my provisional licence today and passed by through Eason's on the way. I saw that they were having a book clear out and had a wee rummage through. I noticed a driver's theory book and thought I'd get it and start swotting up straight away. This time in 3 months time I will be an expert on the theory of driving a large vehicle. It will come in handy for when I become a long distance lorry driver.
So I've decided to be very dedicated. I went to get my form for my provisional licence today and passed by through Eason's on the way. I saw that they were having a book clear out and had a wee rummage through. I noticed a driver's theory book and thought I'd get it and start swotting up straight away. This time in 3 months time I will be an expert on the theory of driving a large vehicle. It will come in handy for when I become a long distance lorry driver.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Leap Year Babies
Between me, Jamie and Nelly's other half, not one of us knows anybody born on the 29th of February. We tried to work out the probability of it when we were drunk but neither me or Bert has a very good head for maths. Where are all the Leap Year babies? And don't they feel slightly cheated? Do they celebrate their birthday on the 28th of February or the first of March? If I was born on the 29th of February I'd have a huge party every leap year. I'd get all the other Leap Year babies together and have a massive celebration.
I started work at 6 this morning for a stocktake. It's always hateful getting out of bed but it was nice to get home at 3 this afternoon. It was actually day light and though it was bitterly cold the sun was shining. I could almost convince myself it was summer.
Nelly's kitten is adorable. I want to believe that's it's my kitten too but apart from attacking my alien fingers she doesn't bother much with me. It's because she's too busy winding up the dogs. We thought Harry was one helluva cat the way he got on with the dogs but he was nothing compared to this little minx and Harry didn't have an alsation to contend with. If Holly isn't getting a rise out of Bonnie by clawing her paws she'll stick her head in the alsation's mouth. She'll lie in a plastic bag hung on a door handle like she 's chilling on a hammock. She does great wee dances and leaps in the air. But she's not Harry. Harry was a wee cootchie cat who'd snuggle with you. He had a beautiful purr and Holly never seems to purr. Which is a shame because that's one of the best things about a cat. Holly lets out bad-tempered mean growls if you even so much as brush up against one of the hairs on her tail. But she's still class.
Bring on the longer days so I can get my camera out.
I started work at 6 this morning for a stocktake. It's always hateful getting out of bed but it was nice to get home at 3 this afternoon. It was actually day light and though it was bitterly cold the sun was shining. I could almost convince myself it was summer.
Nelly's kitten is adorable. I want to believe that's it's my kitten too but apart from attacking my alien fingers she doesn't bother much with me. It's because she's too busy winding up the dogs. We thought Harry was one helluva cat the way he got on with the dogs but he was nothing compared to this little minx and Harry didn't have an alsation to contend with. If Holly isn't getting a rise out of Bonnie by clawing her paws she'll stick her head in the alsation's mouth. She'll lie in a plastic bag hung on a door handle like she 's chilling on a hammock. She does great wee dances and leaps in the air. But she's not Harry. Harry was a wee cootchie cat who'd snuggle with you. He had a beautiful purr and Holly never seems to purr. Which is a shame because that's one of the best things about a cat. Holly lets out bad-tempered mean growls if you even so much as brush up against one of the hairs on her tail. But she's still class.
Bring on the longer days so I can get my camera out.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Bank Charges
Anybody who has received bank charges, over the 10 pounds, in the last 5 years might find this site useful. Apparently it was illegal all along for banks to charge over a certain amount and this site gives you a step by step guide on how to go about claiming money back from your bank. The same applies to credit card charges, although the maximum amount they can charge is 12 pounds but anything over that can be claimed.
So there you go. We always knew banks were robbing bastards.
So there you go. We always knew banks were robbing bastards.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Why Dirt Bird Is A Dirt Bird
If you were wondering why Dirt Bird is called Dirt Bird this is the reason.
But it's not nice to say that about Dirt Bird, she's lovely really. I miss her loads and wish she'd come back to scabby Ballymena where she belongs.
But it's not nice to say that about Dirt Bird, she's lovely really. I miss her loads and wish she'd come back to scabby Ballymena where she belongs.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
January 24th
I've been reading in the papers that January is officially the shittiest month of the year, January the 24th being the worst day of the year. It's exactly one month after Christmas so the high we get from that has completely worn off by then. It's 3 weeks after New Year when people start to cave in and break their resolutions. It's a few days 'til pay day and everyone's skint. So I've decided that January 24th will be an excellent day for me. I didn't get that high at Christmas so it's already worn off. I didn't make any resolutions to break and so I don't feel guilty. I get paid on the 22nd and will be living in the lap of luxury by the 24th. But I still say roll on March.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Everybody Needs Them
Last night Jamie and I foolishly watched endless clips of Neighbours episodes that have already been shown in Australia. We spoiled the next 6 months viewing in one hour. It was too much to take in. All the storylines, all the drama. I felt physically ill after. Jamie felt guilty. The last cliff hanger involved somebody getting shot.
I suppose you're all dying to know what happens?
Sky gives birth to her baby but someone kidnaps it. Was it Stingray when he was pissed and emotional? No! Was it Carmella's mad cousin when she was mad? No! Was it Dyldog because he thought the baby was his? Yes! And she is his. One minute she's Dyldo's, next minute she's Stingray's, but really she's Dyldo's. So Sky's reporting Doc. Karl for malpractice and making her think that the baby was Stingray's. Stingray's family are suing the Doc for causing him severe emotional distress when he already had enough on his plate with the old alcohol addiction and falling in love with minors.
Mishka comes back from Russia to find her best Ozzy man, Lou Bear, but is deported 10 minutes later for trying to bribe the Immigration Officer. Paul Robinson proposes to Lyn, she accepts, they say I do and 10 minutes later he's telling her that he'll only be cheating on her in 6 weeks time and she's better off without him. So Stephie punched him for being a bastard.
Paul's daughter Elle is feeling guilty about making Mad Max think he was going mad. Poor Stephie is sad and lonely because Mad Max has done a runner on her but luckily she has Toadie to keep her warm and cozy.
Katya, the silly moo cow, is spoiling eveything for everybody. Evil Rob Rob should've done the job properly and got rid of her. And Elle for that matter. It's all Katya's fault that Mad max went mad and ran away. If he hadn't of fallen for him and become so needy of him he wouldn't have accidentally ran over Elle's brother Cameron. Therefore Elle wouldn't have sought revenge on Max, making him think he was going crazy. So Katya, the silly moo cow, robbed a bank a few years back and now an evil guy called Guy is blackmailing her. She tries to shoot him but she gets shot. This guy called Guy doesn't like the cut of her gib and so he holds her, Stephie, Toadie and Zeke the Freak hostage until Katya coughs up some serious dollar. This all leads to poor Doc Karl getting shot. Poor Karl who's just been sued and lost his job.
I suppose you're all dying to know what happens?
Sky gives birth to her baby but someone kidnaps it. Was it Stingray when he was pissed and emotional? No! Was it Carmella's mad cousin when she was mad? No! Was it Dyldog because he thought the baby was his? Yes! And she is his. One minute she's Dyldo's, next minute she's Stingray's, but really she's Dyldo's. So Sky's reporting Doc. Karl for malpractice and making her think that the baby was Stingray's. Stingray's family are suing the Doc for causing him severe emotional distress when he already had enough on his plate with the old alcohol addiction and falling in love with minors.
Mishka comes back from Russia to find her best Ozzy man, Lou Bear, but is deported 10 minutes later for trying to bribe the Immigration Officer. Paul Robinson proposes to Lyn, she accepts, they say I do and 10 minutes later he's telling her that he'll only be cheating on her in 6 weeks time and she's better off without him. So Stephie punched him for being a bastard.
Paul's daughter Elle is feeling guilty about making Mad Max think he was going mad. Poor Stephie is sad and lonely because Mad Max has done a runner on her but luckily she has Toadie to keep her warm and cozy.
Katya, the silly moo cow, is spoiling eveything for everybody. Evil Rob Rob should've done the job properly and got rid of her. And Elle for that matter. It's all Katya's fault that Mad max went mad and ran away. If he hadn't of fallen for him and become so needy of him he wouldn't have accidentally ran over Elle's brother Cameron. Therefore Elle wouldn't have sought revenge on Max, making him think he was going crazy. So Katya, the silly moo cow, robbed a bank a few years back and now an evil guy called Guy is blackmailing her. She tries to shoot him but she gets shot. This guy called Guy doesn't like the cut of her gib and so he holds her, Stephie, Toadie and Zeke the Freak hostage until Katya coughs up some serious dollar. This all leads to poor Doc Karl getting shot. Poor Karl who's just been sued and lost his job.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Ray The Mountain
I'm ditching Gomez at my wedding for this guy. Ray Lamontagne. He's a bit like Jesus 'cos he used to be a carpenter but he's a lot more sexy than Jesus and with a voice that could melt butter. If he's not careful he can sound a bit like Michael Bolton but that's just when he's doing the schmoozy numbers. Jamie and I are thinking of seeing him at the Waterfront Hall next Saturday. It's been so long since either of us was at a gig. Zoe's beloved Dive Boy is also a fan and I asked him if he wanted to come along with us. He asked me could I not just bring him to back to their house. I told Dive Boy not to worry he'd be playing at my wedding in the woods. With Jose Gonzalez.
This is a good un too.
This is a good un too.
Friday, January 12, 2007
It Is Difficult To Play The Trombone
Kids are funny creatures. They do and say and believe the strangest things. I heard a little girl say mummy you're hurting my face. Her mum just laughed and said how can I be doing that I'm not even touching you. Their little minds are so undeveloped that they can believe that anything is possible. They will make up their own crazy conclusions about the world and how it works. Sometimes they are misguided and sometimes a little too naive. Here's some of the things I believed as a youngster:
* In the 'olden' days, when my grandparents were children, everything was black and white. Colour was not introduced to the world 'til sometime in the 70s when everyone was tripping out on acid.
* Anon was a poet. He was so well known and wrote so many poems that he could be known by his first name only. He was on the same kind of celebrity scale as Madonna or Prince.
* Buzzards are called buzzards because they buzz (ok so I was 14 when I believed this but I was still technically a youngster).
* Bears lived in the woods in Ireland and the big sticks that are used for putting out forest fires were to beat the bears away when they attacked you (I had some help in believing this).
* If I swallowed a plum stone a plum tree would grow in my tummy (I know all kids believe this but I really believed it, to the point where I cried for hours after swallowing a plum stone).
* It is difficult to play the trombone because it can suck the breath out of you.
Now that I'm older I'm much more wiser. I know there are no bears in Ireland (but don't tell Pirate John that). I know that anon is an abbreviation of anonymous. I know that buzzards don't buzz but I still don't know why they're called buzzards. I know a plum tree won't grow in your stomach. But I still believe that a trombone is difficult to play because it can suck the breath out of you. It makes total sense in my head.
* In the 'olden' days, when my grandparents were children, everything was black and white. Colour was not introduced to the world 'til sometime in the 70s when everyone was tripping out on acid.
* Anon was a poet. He was so well known and wrote so many poems that he could be known by his first name only. He was on the same kind of celebrity scale as Madonna or Prince.
* Buzzards are called buzzards because they buzz (ok so I was 14 when I believed this but I was still technically a youngster).
* Bears lived in the woods in Ireland and the big sticks that are used for putting out forest fires were to beat the bears away when they attacked you (I had some help in believing this).
* If I swallowed a plum stone a plum tree would grow in my tummy (I know all kids believe this but I really believed it, to the point where I cried for hours after swallowing a plum stone).
* It is difficult to play the trombone because it can suck the breath out of you.
Now that I'm older I'm much more wiser. I know there are no bears in Ireland (but don't tell Pirate John that). I know that anon is an abbreviation of anonymous. I know that buzzards don't buzz but I still don't know why they're called buzzards. I know a plum tree won't grow in your stomach. But I still believe that a trombone is difficult to play because it can suck the breath out of you. It makes total sense in my head.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Happy New Year
Christmas is over, the New Year has begun and the days are getting longer by a millisecond each day. Only stinking oul' January to get through now and all will be good. I hate January. It's a cold bleak month. The buzz from Christmas and New Year has worn off, we're skint, it's cold, and dark and everyone's already broken their New Year's resolutions by the first week and feeling like shit. February's not much better but at least it's short.
On a brighter note, Christmas was lovely. After I had the stress of doing everything lastminute.com (buying, wrapping and delivering presents and packing up until half an hour before leaving for the airport), I just relaxed at Jamie's mum's house watching Santa movie after Santa movie and eating sweets. It was strange though, my first Christmas away from home. I had a surreal experience at the airport. When going through security there was a man in front of me just about to walk through the metal detector. The secuirty lady asked him to wait and asked me to walk through first. Even though I didn't bleep she asked me to hold my arms out to be searched. As she did so she said to me Ok I'm going to search you there's no need to stand there looking like I'm doing something to you.
Bam! I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. It made my face turn red and I nearly laughed in her face. Then I thought it was so real and familiar that it probably wasn't deja vu but that she had probably said the exact same thing to me the last time I went through security at Aldergrove. I can't be certain but it was just such a strange sensation. Especially because my reaction to her comment felt so vividly familiar. My reaction was to just stand there being searched and dumbfounded as to why she would even say this in the first place. Did I look like she was doing something to me? It wasn't just what she said but her tone of voice when saying it. She probably says it to everyone she searches because she's fed up with the whole lesbian stereotype that female airport security only do their job to cop a feel of women's tits*
Anyway, she freaked my mind a little bit just because of the feeling of deja vu. I almost wanted to go back and ask her if she says that to a lot of people she searches. But I didn't, so I was left wondering.
It was nice being back in Stoke. As much as I hate the place it's like a second home to me. I saw Gravy Dave and Miss C, I saw Pirate John and Captain Tor. Tor is still going on about Nelly's spicy chicken wings being the best he ever tasted and he promises next time he's over he will be cooking for Nelly. I thought about going to visit Santa in his grotto at the Potteries shopping centre but I couldn't tell if it was still free. The fact that the queue was significantly shorter than when I worked ther suggested it probably cost money. I was reading an article about the cost of visiting Santa in shopping centres in Norn Iron just before Christmas. The average cost was around 6 pounds to visit Santa but a lot were 10 pounds. A couple were free but the child got no present and you had to bring your own camera. The most expensive was the Castlecout centre in Belfast, costing 20 pounds per child to visit Santa. Crazy. Scary. Obscene. Anyway, there endeth my Christmas rant.
*Ok so maybe I'm making this sterotype up but I'm sure someone once told me that. Anyway, I'm a sociology student, I don't believe in stereotypes so this doll just annoyed me in assuming that I might believe in sterotypes.
On a brighter note, Christmas was lovely. After I had the stress of doing everything lastminute.com (buying, wrapping and delivering presents and packing up until half an hour before leaving for the airport), I just relaxed at Jamie's mum's house watching Santa movie after Santa movie and eating sweets. It was strange though, my first Christmas away from home. I had a surreal experience at the airport. When going through security there was a man in front of me just about to walk through the metal detector. The secuirty lady asked him to wait and asked me to walk through first. Even though I didn't bleep she asked me to hold my arms out to be searched. As she did so she said to me Ok I'm going to search you there's no need to stand there looking like I'm doing something to you.
Bam! I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. It made my face turn red and I nearly laughed in her face. Then I thought it was so real and familiar that it probably wasn't deja vu but that she had probably said the exact same thing to me the last time I went through security at Aldergrove. I can't be certain but it was just such a strange sensation. Especially because my reaction to her comment felt so vividly familiar. My reaction was to just stand there being searched and dumbfounded as to why she would even say this in the first place. Did I look like she was doing something to me? It wasn't just what she said but her tone of voice when saying it. She probably says it to everyone she searches because she's fed up with the whole lesbian stereotype that female airport security only do their job to cop a feel of women's tits*
Anyway, she freaked my mind a little bit just because of the feeling of deja vu. I almost wanted to go back and ask her if she says that to a lot of people she searches. But I didn't, so I was left wondering.
It was nice being back in Stoke. As much as I hate the place it's like a second home to me. I saw Gravy Dave and Miss C, I saw Pirate John and Captain Tor. Tor is still going on about Nelly's spicy chicken wings being the best he ever tasted and he promises next time he's over he will be cooking for Nelly. I thought about going to visit Santa in his grotto at the Potteries shopping centre but I couldn't tell if it was still free. The fact that the queue was significantly shorter than when I worked ther suggested it probably cost money. I was reading an article about the cost of visiting Santa in shopping centres in Norn Iron just before Christmas. The average cost was around 6 pounds to visit Santa but a lot were 10 pounds. A couple were free but the child got no present and you had to bring your own camera. The most expensive was the Castlecout centre in Belfast, costing 20 pounds per child to visit Santa. Crazy. Scary. Obscene. Anyway, there endeth my Christmas rant.
*Ok so maybe I'm making this sterotype up but I'm sure someone once told me that. Anyway, I'm a sociology student, I don't believe in stereotypes so this doll just annoyed me in assuming that I might believe in sterotypes.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Buttons For Dirt Bird
Yay! Dirt Bird's home for Christmas. She came round on Sunday evening for a coupla pear ciders and beers. We had pleasant chat and drank and were merry. She also came round last night (Tuesday night) for much of the same thing. We had pleasant chat, we drank and were merry ('tis Christmas after all). I reminded her last night that we had a really funny conversation on Sunday but I couldn't remember what it was. After a while Dirt Bird remembered. She said we were talking about me having to clone myself. I said that it would never do as I knew rightly that my clone would get to do all the good stuff while I was stuck with the crappy things. She'd be off galivanting in South America while I was stuck in Next saying Do you want a copy of the Directory? I'd have to kill her and then I would be done for murdering myself. No, it would never do.
So Dirt Bird says...damn I wish she was here now 'cos I've forgotten what she said but it was something along the lines of...yeah but you could make the clone so that it had a little button and when you pressed it you experienced what your clone was experiencing. Hmmm. Good idea. But, I suggested, wouldn't it be better to just make the clone so it was your slave and it had to do whatever you told it? Yeah, says Dirt Bird, and when it was naughty or misbehaving there would be a little button you could press so that it would self-destruct.
I think it's kinda sweet, her obsession with buttons. She said she'd be like Father Dougal Maguire when he was in the cock pit of a plane and he was told not to push the big red button. I might buy her a toy for Christmas. One with lots of buttons to press.
So Dirt Bird says...damn I wish she was here now 'cos I've forgotten what she said but it was something along the lines of...yeah but you could make the clone so that it had a little button and when you pressed it you experienced what your clone was experiencing. Hmmm. Good idea. But, I suggested, wouldn't it be better to just make the clone so it was your slave and it had to do whatever you told it? Yeah, says Dirt Bird, and when it was naughty or misbehaving there would be a little button you could press so that it would self-destruct.
I think it's kinda sweet, her obsession with buttons. She said she'd be like Father Dougal Maguire when he was in the cock pit of a plane and he was told not to push the big red button. I might buy her a toy for Christmas. One with lots of buttons to press.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Would Aybody Drink Vodkat?
It's funny how things can lie around the house for so long that eventually you stop even noticing they're there. When we moved in our next door neighbour (the one who's not Irish) called round with a bottle of Vodkat. Someone had given it to him but neither he nor the wife drank the stuff so he was offering it to us. Never one to look a gift horse in the eye, Jamie accepted graciously. I was upstairs at the time so that's where Jamie brought it. Neither me or Jamie would lip the stuff either so I put it on top of the chest of drawers. Now 8 months later I am only just noticing it. It will probably stay there til we move out or we have a visit from an alcoholic. I'm sure even an alcoholic would turn their nose up at it and say do ye not have any buckfast?
Monday, December 11, 2006
I Wish I could Do This
On the way home from work tonight I bumped into the Two Rons' daughter who works in Eason's. Eason's is Jamie's favourite shop in the whole of Ballymena (which says a lot about Ballymena). He can stand in there for hours looking at all the different computer magazines on sale. It also sells cards, stationery, books, sweets, cigarettes and the lottery. It can be a pretty busy shop on a Saturday afternoon. The Two Rons' daughter was telling me that she was expecting to get the hoof because of what she did one day.
She was serving 2 girls who were so busy blabbing on about what they were going to wear to Kelly's that night that they didn't hear her say that's four pound thirty-six please. So these two girls were blabbing away and a queue was forming behind them and the Two Rons' daughter asked again louder. The girl fumbled in her purse, pulled out a twenty pound note and slammed it down on the counter. The Two Rons' daughter got the girl her change and slammed it back down on the counter. The wee girl being served looked at her and says cheeky bitch. The Two Rons' daughter said that before she knew what she was doing she'd rolled the girl's recipt up into a little ball and flicked it off her forehead.
She was serving 2 girls who were so busy blabbing on about what they were going to wear to Kelly's that night that they didn't hear her say that's four pound thirty-six please. So these two girls were blabbing away and a queue was forming behind them and the Two Rons' daughter asked again louder. The girl fumbled in her purse, pulled out a twenty pound note and slammed it down on the counter. The Two Rons' daughter got the girl her change and slammed it back down on the counter. The wee girl being served looked at her and says cheeky bitch. The Two Rons' daughter said that before she knew what she was doing she'd rolled the girl's recipt up into a little ball and flicked it off her forehead.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
I'm Smokin
There's a reason why Jamie's looking so pleased with himself...
He's got an audition with Urban Strawberry Lunch, a community organization who run workshops teaching kids to play junk instruments. He'd worked with them before in Stoke and they asked him to apply for the position about two months ago. The posiotion is for 4 months in Liverpool. His audition is on the 5th of December so good luck baby, don't be nervous.
He's got an audition with Urban Strawberry Lunch, a community organization who run workshops teaching kids to play junk instruments. He'd worked with them before in Stoke and they asked him to apply for the position about two months ago. The posiotion is for 4 months in Liverpool. His audition is on the 5th of December so good luck baby, don't be nervous.
Goodbye Bob
Jamie and I had adopted a pet fly. We called him Bob. We missed the company of cats and dogs so much that we needed a pet of own.
At first we didn't really like Bob. Jamie had tried capturing him several times with a glass and a sheet of paper. But he was too cunning for us. He grew very fond of me and Jamie and would follow us from the kitchen to the livingroom. At one point we thought he was following us to the bathroom and the bedroom but it turned out that was another fly. That one didn't stay with us for very long and he left one evening when me and Jamie were heading out the door. I thought it was Bob that had left but when we got back he was still there. That's when we realised we'd had two pet flies. Bob was always our favourite though.
Now it's been a week and I haven't seen Bob. I think he's died. He lived with us for about seven weeks I'm sure. I miss him. I miss saying hello to him. I miss him buzzing around the room. I miss watching Jamie try to capture him and being outwitted every time. Sometimes he was pesky but I wouldn't have had him any other way. Now we're petless once again. We're thinking of getting a spider because although we loved Bob we don't want any more flies in the house.
At first we didn't really like Bob. Jamie had tried capturing him several times with a glass and a sheet of paper. But he was too cunning for us. He grew very fond of me and Jamie and would follow us from the kitchen to the livingroom. At one point we thought he was following us to the bathroom and the bedroom but it turned out that was another fly. That one didn't stay with us for very long and he left one evening when me and Jamie were heading out the door. I thought it was Bob that had left but when we got back he was still there. That's when we realised we'd had two pet flies. Bob was always our favourite though.
Now it's been a week and I haven't seen Bob. I think he's died. He lived with us for about seven weeks I'm sure. I miss him. I miss saying hello to him. I miss him buzzing around the room. I miss watching Jamie try to capture him and being outwitted every time. Sometimes he was pesky but I wouldn't have had him any other way. Now we're petless once again. We're thinking of getting a spider because although we loved Bob we don't want any more flies in the house.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Dreamin'
When there's nothing interesting going on in the real world what else is there to talk about but dreams. I've had some fantastic dreams in my life but also some pretty spooky ones too. They say if you die in a dream then you die in real life but that's not true. I had this dream when I was about 8 or 9. I was in my bedroom and there was this huge yellow spider there. It was about the size of a dog. There was something on the floor I was reaching out for and the spider zapped out one of it's long yellow legs, snapped it around my wrist and gave me an electric shock. Although it didn't hurt it killed me. My mum came up to the room a few seconds after and seeing me lying dead she held me in her arms and cried. I still remember vividly feeling my mum's grasp, hearing her tears and thinking oh my god this is awful, I'm dead but I'm still conscious. I awoke from this dream feeling scared and ran straight to my mum's room where everyone was already awake. There had been a huge storm that night which none of us slept through, except for Zoe.
It was a pretty horrible dream but it wasn't the scariest dream I ever had. I dreamt once that I was down in Kerry at my aunt's house. No one else was there though except for a big man with a caveman's club who was chasing me round. I gave him a good chase but he finally caught up with me and when he did I lay on the ground, rolled myself up in a ball and braced myself for the club coming smashing down on my head. I woke up before it did. I was freaked but went promptly back to sleep and had exactly the same dream again only this time he was chasing me with an axe. The same thing happened and he caught up with me but just before the axe hit me I woke up again. This time I was even more freaked but I still went back to sleep. I had the dream for a third time. Same guy, same scene, only this time it was a gun. I was inside my aunt's house this time, cowering on her stairs, when he got in, found me and pointed the gun to my head. I braced myself for the inevitable but woke up just before he shot me. This time I forced myself to stay awake. There was no way I was having that dream again.
Aren't they mad things dreams? The way they can make you experience all these feelings and emotions that just aren't real. I said to Jamie wouldn't it be cool if we shared dreams. If people could experience the same dreams as each other. He thought it would be a nightmare. I said it could be beautiful too. I would hate to never dream again. Even if it means you have to experience nightmares too.
Last night I dreamed about having a pet spider. I just watched it running around on the floor. I lay down to be closer to it but then I couldn't see where it had gone. Assuming it was probably on me I jumped and flailed around so much (cos I'm scared of spiders and don't like them on me) that I was sure I had killed it. My dad came into the room and I told him what had happened. He looked on the floor and saw a tiny little black ball. It was my little dead spider and I felt so bad. But when he picked it up it opened out it's wings and flew off. It wasn't my spider it was a fly.
I had a strange dream last year when I was living with my dad in Leek. I was in my bedroom and two of my cats were at the far end of the room by the door. Attila and Tooty Cat who were both dead so I was really pleased to see them. I wanted to come across the room to pet them but I couldn't. There was an obstacle. Hundreds of rats running around the floor. A carpet of rats. There were several things going through my head. A longing to see these cats that I hadn't seen for ages. A fear for the safety of the cats because I thought the rats would maul them. A longing to get to my cats to rescue them and a fear that I couldn't reach them because it would mean standing on the rats and I couldn't do that. My dad came up to the room and without actually saying or doing anything he had fixed the problem. Only the cats had gone by then and the rats were still there but they were underneath the carpet and it was bulging and moving.
The thing about dreams though is there very personal. They can blow you head away but no one else can really understand. It's not like in the waking world when people experience things and we can feel empathy. Empathy is a void feeling when it comes to people's dreams. So if you find my ramblings rather tedious then I don't blame you.
It was a pretty horrible dream but it wasn't the scariest dream I ever had. I dreamt once that I was down in Kerry at my aunt's house. No one else was there though except for a big man with a caveman's club who was chasing me round. I gave him a good chase but he finally caught up with me and when he did I lay on the ground, rolled myself up in a ball and braced myself for the club coming smashing down on my head. I woke up before it did. I was freaked but went promptly back to sleep and had exactly the same dream again only this time he was chasing me with an axe. The same thing happened and he caught up with me but just before the axe hit me I woke up again. This time I was even more freaked but I still went back to sleep. I had the dream for a third time. Same guy, same scene, only this time it was a gun. I was inside my aunt's house this time, cowering on her stairs, when he got in, found me and pointed the gun to my head. I braced myself for the inevitable but woke up just before he shot me. This time I forced myself to stay awake. There was no way I was having that dream again.
Aren't they mad things dreams? The way they can make you experience all these feelings and emotions that just aren't real. I said to Jamie wouldn't it be cool if we shared dreams. If people could experience the same dreams as each other. He thought it would be a nightmare. I said it could be beautiful too. I would hate to never dream again. Even if it means you have to experience nightmares too.
Last night I dreamed about having a pet spider. I just watched it running around on the floor. I lay down to be closer to it but then I couldn't see where it had gone. Assuming it was probably on me I jumped and flailed around so much (cos I'm scared of spiders and don't like them on me) that I was sure I had killed it. My dad came into the room and I told him what had happened. He looked on the floor and saw a tiny little black ball. It was my little dead spider and I felt so bad. But when he picked it up it opened out it's wings and flew off. It wasn't my spider it was a fly.
I had a strange dream last year when I was living with my dad in Leek. I was in my bedroom and two of my cats were at the far end of the room by the door. Attila and Tooty Cat who were both dead so I was really pleased to see them. I wanted to come across the room to pet them but I couldn't. There was an obstacle. Hundreds of rats running around the floor. A carpet of rats. There were several things going through my head. A longing to see these cats that I hadn't seen for ages. A fear for the safety of the cats because I thought the rats would maul them. A longing to get to my cats to rescue them and a fear that I couldn't reach them because it would mean standing on the rats and I couldn't do that. My dad came up to the room and without actually saying or doing anything he had fixed the problem. Only the cats had gone by then and the rats were still there but they were underneath the carpet and it was bulging and moving.
The thing about dreams though is there very personal. They can blow you head away but no one else can really understand. It's not like in the waking world when people experience things and we can feel empathy. Empathy is a void feeling when it comes to people's dreams. So if you find my ramblings rather tedious then I don't blame you.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
I Wish It Was Spring
I hate winter. I use up all my energy hating winter so much that I am too tired to do anything else. I wish I could just hibernate. I have been trying to convince myself that winter's not so bad. I've been trying to convince myself that the christmas lights are comforting but they're not a patch on natural daylight. As soon as the clocks go back I'm counting down the days to the shortest day of the year. Then after that I try to convince myself it's getting noticably lighter each day. I then count down the days 'til the day the clocks go forward. I don't care if I have to get up for work an hour earlier because there is a whole hour of extra light at night. It's spring time. Everything comes back to life. The trees are green again, the flowers come out and the wee lambs are in the fields. It's spring and there's still summer to look forward to. I love that time of year.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Rich in Coppers and Euros and Vouchers
Jamie and I are are beginning to realise how badly addicted to sweets and sugar we are. I get paid monthly and always cover the rent, splurge and wind up skint after 2 weeks. Fortunately, Jamie gets paid weekly and so we never run out of money and if we do it's always the day before Jamie gets paid.
Last night I sent Jamie up to the shop to get sweets with our last 50p. About an hour and a half later I wanted more. Me and Jamie sat on the sofa giggling and daring each other to go to the shop with our millions of coppers to get sweets and juice. I refused on the grounds that they would hate us for making them count all the coppers. Then I remembered I had some Euros left over from Connermara. So I says to Jamie:
You know they accept Euros in Next. You should go up with that 10 euro note and buy a pack of cards and you'll get the change back in sterling. And there's all them Next vouchers of mine. You could go up and buy a pack of christmas cards with them and get the change back.
I decided we couldn't do that 'cos everyone would know it was my boyfriend and I'd sent him there to get money and they'd think I was dead scabby. Then we realised that we had gone no longer than an hour and a half without money to buy sweets and already we were demented with the withdrawal symptoms. We thought about how we could go to the shop and if they didn't except our coppers we could give them our euros, and if they didn't take them we could give them a next voucher, and if they didn't take them we'd just run away with the sweets and juice. In the end we just suffered it and had tea and toast instead.
Last night I sent Jamie up to the shop to get sweets with our last 50p. About an hour and a half later I wanted more. Me and Jamie sat on the sofa giggling and daring each other to go to the shop with our millions of coppers to get sweets and juice. I refused on the grounds that they would hate us for making them count all the coppers. Then I remembered I had some Euros left over from Connermara. So I says to Jamie:
You know they accept Euros in Next. You should go up with that 10 euro note and buy a pack of cards and you'll get the change back in sterling. And there's all them Next vouchers of mine. You could go up and buy a pack of christmas cards with them and get the change back.
I decided we couldn't do that 'cos everyone would know it was my boyfriend and I'd sent him there to get money and they'd think I was dead scabby. Then we realised that we had gone no longer than an hour and a half without money to buy sweets and already we were demented with the withdrawal symptoms. We thought about how we could go to the shop and if they didn't except our coppers we could give them our euros, and if they didn't take them we could give them a next voucher, and if they didn't take them we'd just run away with the sweets and juice. In the end we just suffered it and had tea and toast instead.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Hey Harry
I suppose it was time that I commented on Harrybo. What a cat! what a good/bad cat. I'm so glad that I bonded with him when he was a kit. I was home that summer and he was like my baby. I watched him grow in my arms. I listened to his purrs. I let him dig his claws into me when he was trying to squeeze milk out of my armpit. When he was cute he was very cute but when he was bad he was very very bad.
I remember him going through adolesence. He could be really scary. He'd get an evil glint in his eye and you knew he was going to pounce. If you dared to tickle his belly when he was in a fighting mood, he'd grab your hand with all four of his limbs, dig the claws in and pierce your skin with his teeth. He'd follow me up to bed and I would lie there cowering. Scared to move my feet in case he attacked, scared to turn the page of a book in case he pounced on my fingers.
But he grew up. He hunted the wee birds rather than the humans and the dogs. He became huge. He was good fun. He was happy. We all loved him. The last time I saw him he made sure he cuddled me. Jamie commented on what a beautiful face he had. He was beautiful all over though his belly was a bit saggy. I fed the dogs at mum's the other night and Bert asked me if I missed him mewing for his food. I hadn't thought about it but I did look at his cat food and feel a pang.
Harry kept me company all last winter. In the dark mornings getting up for work Harry was always there mewing for his food. He was an amazingly clever cat who could send faxes, re-tune the TV and change the ringtone of the phone. He didn't jump on the kitchen surfaces like the bad Tooty Cat and the evil Muff. He was a dab hand at psyching out Swisser when she was visiting. She'll miss him. We all will.
I remember him going through adolesence. He could be really scary. He'd get an evil glint in his eye and you knew he was going to pounce. If you dared to tickle his belly when he was in a fighting mood, he'd grab your hand with all four of his limbs, dig the claws in and pierce your skin with his teeth. He'd follow me up to bed and I would lie there cowering. Scared to move my feet in case he attacked, scared to turn the page of a book in case he pounced on my fingers.
But he grew up. He hunted the wee birds rather than the humans and the dogs. He became huge. He was good fun. He was happy. We all loved him. The last time I saw him he made sure he cuddled me. Jamie commented on what a beautiful face he had. He was beautiful all over though his belly was a bit saggy. I fed the dogs at mum's the other night and Bert asked me if I missed him mewing for his food. I hadn't thought about it but I did look at his cat food and feel a pang.
Harry kept me company all last winter. In the dark mornings getting up for work Harry was always there mewing for his food. He was an amazingly clever cat who could send faxes, re-tune the TV and change the ringtone of the phone. He didn't jump on the kitchen surfaces like the bad Tooty Cat and the evil Muff. He was a dab hand at psyching out Swisser when she was visiting. She'll miss him. We all will.
Michael Is Fragile
Jamie had me in stitches last night. I'd just got in from having a pint with one of the girls I work with. I don't know how long Jamie had been pondering for, possibly all day, but he asked me, in all seriousness, how was he going to meet Michael Jackson. We discussed the many ways he could meet him but then Jamie was worried that he might just sound like an idiot when he eventually does.
'I want him to take me seriously. I want to make a record with him' Jamie says.
'Well, go up to him and say I've always respected you as a musician, I'd be honoured to make some music with you'
'I know what to say to him but how do I get to him in the first place. He doesn't deal with adults he only likes kids. He's not a paedophile. He just likes kids better.'
'You know what you have to do then, adopt a kid to get closer to Michael.'
'I have to have a kid. You have to stop taking the pill.'
'OK, we'll have a baby and we'll call him Bait'
And at that we chuckled. Then I said what a good story for my blog this would make and Jamie tells me that I can't write it. Why not?
'What if Michael reads your blog, he'll be offended.'
I laughed my head off.
'As if Michael Jackson is going to be reading my blog Jamie'
'No but he might just stumle across it and then he'll never want to make a record with me'
'Ok let me do the story and if he reads it you can pretend you don't know me'
'Yeah but there's photos of me plastered all over your blog and Michael will be like there's that dick who's calling his child Bait so he can meet me.'
How I laughed. I laughed and laughed and told Jamie that I would tell the story and if he ever gets to meet Michael I'll delete the post.
'But he's fragile. How would you like it if I jepordized your plans to meet Courtney Love?'
'But I'm not desperate enough to meet Courtney Love'
'Michael's more fragile than Courtney Love'
'I think Courtney's more fragile'
Then we proceeded to argue over who was more fragile, Jackson or Love. Then Jamie pointed out that we were arguing over which of our idols was the weakest.
I says 'I liked this conversation better before you brought Courtney Love into it, when you sounded like the mental one and I sounded sane'
So if Michael and Jamie become chums I will delete this post. For Michael is a fragile soul and we can't be upsetting his chakras. As for Courtney Love. I have no great desires to meet her and if I do I won't be wanting to make any music with her. And she will not even care that my child is called Bait, after all her's is called Frances Bean.
'I want him to take me seriously. I want to make a record with him' Jamie says.
'Well, go up to him and say I've always respected you as a musician, I'd be honoured to make some music with you'
'I know what to say to him but how do I get to him in the first place. He doesn't deal with adults he only likes kids. He's not a paedophile. He just likes kids better.'
'You know what you have to do then, adopt a kid to get closer to Michael.'
'I have to have a kid. You have to stop taking the pill.'
'OK, we'll have a baby and we'll call him Bait'
And at that we chuckled. Then I said what a good story for my blog this would make and Jamie tells me that I can't write it. Why not?
'What if Michael reads your blog, he'll be offended.'
I laughed my head off.
'As if Michael Jackson is going to be reading my blog Jamie'
'No but he might just stumle across it and then he'll never want to make a record with me'
'Ok let me do the story and if he reads it you can pretend you don't know me'
'Yeah but there's photos of me plastered all over your blog and Michael will be like there's that dick who's calling his child Bait so he can meet me.'
How I laughed. I laughed and laughed and told Jamie that I would tell the story and if he ever gets to meet Michael I'll delete the post.
'But he's fragile. How would you like it if I jepordized your plans to meet Courtney Love?'
'But I'm not desperate enough to meet Courtney Love'
'Michael's more fragile than Courtney Love'
'I think Courtney's more fragile'
Then we proceeded to argue over who was more fragile, Jackson or Love. Then Jamie pointed out that we were arguing over which of our idols was the weakest.
I says 'I liked this conversation better before you brought Courtney Love into it, when you sounded like the mental one and I sounded sane'
So if Michael and Jamie become chums I will delete this post. For Michael is a fragile soul and we can't be upsetting his chakras. As for Courtney Love. I have no great desires to meet her and if I do I won't be wanting to make any music with her. And she will not even care that my child is called Bait, after all her's is called Frances Bean.
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