Tinsel Town

Been very creative today, first with the kids at home making mini Christmas trees from bits of tumbleweed from the late Derek Jarman's Dungeness garden, painted silver and hung with mini baubles and tinsel. I know it's not even December yet but it will be in a couple of days and we have to be prepared for it. We're putting our fairy lights and tree up next week. Making the trees brought back memories of our trip to Dungeness a couple of years ago, and I just found a poem I wrote when I got back about our day trip there:

Dungeness
Bleak dreary day
Driving to Dungeness
Where a man laid to rest
And grew a garden full of life
To carry on his memory
Living in Dungeness
How bleak a landscape
How flat and murky
Nuclear power station
Through the fog
Beer and fish and chips
Cowboys in porter cabin pub
Like a technicolor Texan truck stop
In a desert landscape
Flying kite with excited children
Smoked cheese and kippers
Wild rabbit skinned
From a lumberjack with a beard
Black and yellow painted cottage
Prospect place
Next door’s children matching
Black and yellow wendy house
Looking through the windows
A dark and pokey place
A bed with sheets still on it
Where a dying man rested
Tumbleweed as souvenir
Will spruce it up at Christmas
Paint it silver to commemorate
And we will tell everyone
It came from Derek Jarman’s beautiful garden
In wonderfully dreary Dungeness

Not an especially great poem but it sums up our day there.

Been doing some writing today for another project of mine, that is running alongside The Book. It's another book about how to get your kids to eat healthy food, but it's not so much about recipes, although there are many in there, but about tricks and games you can play with your kids to make eating more fun. It's also about the psychology of food and play, and how we can encourage kids to have a more positive impression of meal time. It's called 'Sneaky Goodness'. Am off to do some more now in fact.

Soundtrack: New Order- True Faith

Seeing the bright side

ooo- I was in a negative frame of mind yesterday was I not... but anyway, the results of the poll have come through and votes as to whether I make Alison's boss aware of her lack of personal skills are as follows:
3 people reckon I should forward her unprofessional responses to her boss and get her in do-do (ouch-we are a vengeful bunch)
1 person thinks I should be very annoyed but doesn't know whether I should send or not and thinks it's up to me to decide her fate
2 people(see comment) reckon I was right to feel annoyed but shouldn't take it any further (one thinks I should go as far as travel to Newcastle to give her a hug)
2 people think I over-reacted, thought Alison's original email was "trying to be nice" and so definitely shouldn't carry on with this malarkey.

So, and I had decided this anyway after the venom had been expelled and subsided, I'm not going to do the evil deed, and I will rise above this miscommunication bollocks....

So- no more negativity and back to being fluffy and positive me thinks (see pic of Sadie wearing Planet Boo top to make you smile). Today I was thinking that I can tell I'm broody as for some reason, when what my body really wants me to do is have another bubba, I get really into doggy-woggies (and I'm talking about the small, cute animals, not some sexual position for conception) and feel a warm glow in my heart when I see them scurrying about at the park having a game of fetch. And I don't know if it's just a Brighton thing, but dogs are even cuter at this time of year as their owners see it as a necessity to adorn their canine companions in winter clothing. Some even wear cagoules when it's raining, and if it's a particularly chilly day have a polo neck underneath! It's so funny, and Molly the Lurcher up in Tongue beware- you shall have a little fashionable present under the tree for Christmas this year- I can't resist!
By the way- the accident I came across yesterday on North Street had a happy ending- the Argus reported today that the young man involved is fine, despite walking in front of a double decker bus and hitting his head on the road. These Brighton and Hove buses are very bouncy it seems (as must the roads be)- Sadie survived a double decker bumping into her when she was three THANK GOD. But I do think the council should get onto making it more obvious that the main road that runs through Brighton city centre is now two-way traffic. No wonder people are getting squashed.
Hark at me all jolly and helping in the community- I have evidently been reading Rebs Tully's 'Happy In Twenty Days...' ebook (available from ebay for 99p!)...it's ace and obviously does the trick! Incidentally Rebs has signed up to be my running partner for the 5 mile Christmas Pudding Dash on 22nd Dec so it's 100% happening-eek!! she recently completed a 10 mile run, and me- well the furthest I've done is 3 miles and that was in August. Let the training commence...

Soundtrack: Killers-Mr Brightside

Just finished watching 'Boy A'- a brilliant channel 4 drama about a 24 year old young man, just out of prison after 14 years, after being put away for murdering a young girl, and how he copes readjusting to living in society with a new identity. It was very connected to the Jamie Bulger case. Very unnerving, but compelling and very upsetting. Being a sensitive soul, I had to switch onto Michael McIntyre Live at the Apollo afterwards to counteract the sadness I felt at the end of the programme, as well as the effects of something I saw earlier on in the day that disturbed me somewhat. There had been an accident on North Street in Brighton today and I was unfortunate enough to have to walk past the scene and saw something I wish I hadn't. Luckily, Sadie remained oblivious. So thanks to Michael McIntyre I have ended my rather dark day with a few belly laughs. I don't like to go to bed feeling glum.

It's War!

Oh my god. I am having an email slagging match with a complete stranger and all because I applied for a writing job. She seems as though, and I know emailing can misconstrue things a bit, she's a total cow and shouldn't have a job whereby she has to deal with people. Here are the interactions below- see for yourself. I'm tempted to cut and paste them and send them onto her boss- I have all her details. What do you think readers?

Hi Alison
I hear you are in need of a child-friendly freelance writer for your
project for Ouseburn Valley Children's Heritage Guide and I am very interested in helping you out. I am a freelance writer for magazines and also write children's stories, as well as having a child of my own to bring up, so let me know the details of what you are looking for and I'm sure I can provide you with exactly what you want. I look forward to hearing from you. Let me know if you need a C.V or
want to see my portfolio of writing work.
Thanks for your time
Cathy Swaby
Freelance Writer

Her response:
I'm sending you details, but to be honest, to our great deilight we've a lot
of great locally based applicants have come out of the woodwork and
we'll probably be choosing one of them - more practical for all concerned.
alison

Back to blog: Now is it just me (and I am someone who, as a writer, has had her fair share of work rejections- it's a big part of the territory) or is that slightly rude a response to a job application? Even broadsheet newspaper editors have had the time to respond more politely. I've worked in various personnel departments where I've dealt with job applicants, and I would never be so short with someone- I would at least thank them for getting in touch and say sorry but there isn't likely to be work available, I'll keep their details on file, etc etc. So I responded thus, and then the war began.....

>Thanks for letting me know but you could have been more polite about
it. I'm glad you're delighted you've found someone else but I'm not. I won't be
applying for the position as you have made it sound like it would be a
waste of my time. I suggest that next time someone is looking for work with you,
you appreciate the time they have taken to contact you and the fact that
they are looking for work and might be disappointed to learn that someone else
'got the job'. You may have not meant your email to be so abrupt but it
certainly came across that way.
> Cathy

So she said:

hi cathy, dear me, how grumpy -if you've 50 enquiries to answer in
half an hour when you were expecting 5 the temptation is to delete them all.
sounds like that would have suited you better. i was actually trying to save
you the trouble of applying by writing to you, so think of it that way.. right,
that's enough of a waste of time for us both.
alison

Back to blog: Bloody bitch!! Now do I forward this correspondence to her boss? Lines are open now so get voting....

To flash or not to flash......

There are two types of people in this world: Those who love to strut around the house naked, with the curtains open, and those, like me, who don't, and even in semi-nakedness, feel the need to run quickly past windows due to believing that someone somewhere will see their bare flesh and that would be a terrible thing. In our bedroom at the back of our flat for example, we have a view of a brick wall (oh the joys of urban living), albeit a pretty, ivy-covered one, and yet I still feel the need to draw the blinds when I'm getting dressed or am having a bit of nookie. It's as though somewhere deep down I believe that Spiderman really exists, and as well as his alter-ego Peter Parker, also has a third persona as a peeping tom. That's the only person who is likely to see me as they would have to be able to climb walls and would also have to have the body of a superhero to be able to bend right back to get a good look at my nudeyness, but I continue to be paranoid about it happening.

Soundtrack: Stevie Wonder-Higher Ground

Fresh lungs and how to survive being ginger

As someone who used to regularly enjoy chain smoking benson and hedges in the pub over a pint or three, I can't believe I am actually going to say this, but I am SO happy that pubs are now non-smoking. I went to my favourite public house in Brighton today (the 'Hand In Hand' in Kemptown by the way; see http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/23/2390/Hand_In_Hand/Brighton) with Andy and for the first time (we haven't been there since the ban- we don't get out that often...) I could actually SEE the bar when I walked in and BREATHE. I am now going home after a visit to the local with my senses still intact (well apart from my sense of reality, having had a few, but that's why I like a drink) and no need to wash my clothes the next day. BUT the best thing about the smoking ban is that now we can get a seat in the pub, no matter what time and what day of the week it is. There must be a whole load of smoking dens in people's houses now, as more than half of Brighton no longer comes out to play, especially now it's got so blimin' chilly. A bit sad but it's always nice to get a good seat innit.
Speaking of pubs, and actually now you are going to think I am a liar and in fact DO get out more than I say I do, we met up with the lovely Joy and Geoff last night for a drinkie or two in the Lanes. Geoff is such a funny man. My face didn't just ache from laughing at his banter, it actually felt like it was going to fall off. They are very creative and inspiring those two as well, and what with their publishing know-how, are urging us on to make a coffee table book displaying Andy's crisp packet collection (see pic). He has the largest collection of packets in the world and they are just rotting in the shed of our garden in Camden. If people bought 'Boring Postcards' all those years ago (I did) then surely a book of comical ('Craps' anyone?), kitsch and colourful snack jackets will please the book-mad public.
Do you know I saw two books next to each other in the gift section at Borders the other day- one entitled 'How to spot that your other half is an utter twat' and the other 'How to survive being ginger' (I was tempted by both but let's say no more). If this bollocks is selling then we're onto a winner.

Twitter Ye Not

Did anyone ever watch gooey tear jerker film Bambi when they were small? If so- do you remember when it was twitterpating season and all the animals started getting friendly with each other and then made some baby Disney-animated animals together? Well I'm a bit scared to go back out my front door this morning, as that seems to be what's going on in Brighton this today- everyone's twitterpated. Even the checkout boy at Tesco was flirting with the french lady who had just come in to buy her bog roll, and seemed to be about to ask her out. As I walked past Starf+@%ers on the corner of my street there was a couple snogging in the window. Then, on my morning run (or rather fast walk as Miss Glazier and I were feeling weary), the cute guy from the video shop jogged past us and winked at me. The highlight was the man decorating our hallway who, seeing me coming back laden with food packed LEOPARD PRINT LAUNDRY BAGS (do you like the way I let you know oh-so-subtly that I don't use carrier bags) from Tesco, asked me, as if we were 'intimate', 'What are we having for dinner tonight darling?'. What's going on? The cats are now leaving us alone, but now I seemed to have been teleported into Lurve Land. I keep expecting Austin Powers to jump out in front of me snorting 'Yeah baby!'.
It beats yesterday, when, due to pissing rain, everybody was ratty and seemed to hate everyone they laid eyes on. Bring on the lust I say. But please Mr Painter and Decorator- stop looking at my arse.

The connection between sausages and god

Talk about comfort eating. Yesterday I had a mild hangover, I was freezing cold no matter how many clothes I put on, and I had the last remnants of MT (without the P). So I did what I always did when I feel slightly ill, cold and down: I cooked a HUGE sausage casserole...(recipe below by the way). Andy was still in London so I cooked a feast for Sadie and myself. I put in twelve chipolata sausages and cooked the tomatoey, salty stew with buttery mashed potatoes and actually felt very high whilst eating it for my lunch. I thought I'd leave what was left, after Sadie and I had eaten half, but I spent the rest of the day, like an under-nourished trout swimming to the worms, gorging on it. I ended up finishing the lot. If I deduct the two sausages eaten by Sadie, I can deduce that I ate NINE sausages yesterday. That is DISGUSTING. I am quite ashamed... (but they were organic). And today I look pregnant.
Just been on the phone to my lovely Aunty Anne. She's such an amazing woman and I've always been close to her, but tonight I had a realisation as I spoke to her about how many times I say the word 'god' when waffling. She's a very religious woman you see and with every comment I made to her, I would mutter, completely without thinking, 'for god's sake', 'oh my god', 'god almighty', 'god no!', 'god really?', and other such blasphemous tittle. I became aware of how much I was doing it, so started trying to use 'goodness', 'gosh' and 'flippin' heck' in 'god''s place. It was a real shame as I haven't spoken to her in a long time and she's very liberal really, and probably wouldn't have minded, but I was so pre-occupied with my use of the lord's name in vain that I didn't really listen to her properly. Damnation!!

Cathy's Sausage Stew
(serves four on a good day; one and a half on a bad day)
12 organic pork chipolata sausages / 8 normal fat sausages
2 celery sticks, chopped
2 large, ripe tomatoes, chopped
1 can chickpeas
fresh basil and parsley, chopped
2 jars of Dolmio tomato and bacon pasta sauce (or 1 jar of Lloyd Grossman Smoky Bacon pasta sauce if you can find anywhere that sells it)

Heat a large frying pan and cook sausages until browned. Cut into bite-sized chunks, then add celery and chick peas. Stir for about 5 mins until celery a bit softer, and then add tomatoes, pasta sauce + 250ml water. Bring to boil and simmer for 10 mins. Take off heat and stir in chopped herbs. Serve with mash or new potatoes, depending on time of year and comfort needed (mash being ultimate comfort food after sausages).

Soundtrack: Madonna- Beautiful Stranger

Buy Nothing Day

Next Saturday is Buy Nothing Day- a day for people to attempt not to be consumers for 24 hours. This will be easy for us as we NEVER shop on Saturdays due to avoiding the Chav Zombies who invade town to buy anything and everything in order to fill their empty lives. I particularly avoid Primark for the vicious, bargain-smock-grabbing vultures. Please go to www.buynothingday.co.uk to join the force!
This Christmas I will be attempting to purchase as many presents as possible from charity shops, will be making jars of home made chutney, and will also be buying family members the odd cow or allotment in a third world country, as I do every year, but it's impossible to not be tempted by the shop windows and glistening newness of things. (Cue advert: For those of who want to buy new and groovy gifts for your friends and kids go to www.planetboo.co.uk for some marvellous nick nacks and attire. I will also profit from this, so will be able to buy more charity shop goods and goats from Oxfam, so you will be doing a good deed in a roundabout way. But remember to wait until after next Saturday).
I can't believe I've just used Buy Nothing Day as a way of getting you to give me some money. How sick am I?

Please Don't Magazine

If you want to listen to a load of old w@*k then please log onto http://www.dontmagazine.com/#/5/david-langley/ and listen to an artist talk shit. Stick to the rather nice collages love and keep your mouth shut- you are really really dull and ramble even more than me.

Throw it on the fire and take the car down town

Oh my god- what a hilarious morning I had. I have offered to help out a Sadie's school every couple of weeks, and usually us parents are sensibly designated to the dummy jobs like cutting realistic leaf shapes out of card or tidying the crumbs up from the snack corner....., but today, as the only one stupid enough to volunteer to help for 'Maths Week' (I am such a creep), I was basically enrolled as a maths teacher (luckily this is reception year so I just about had the know-how). There was me thinking that spying on my daughter in class was going to be a swizz.
My job was to play maths games FOR TWO HOURS with a group of four and five year olds. It was like trying to deal with a group of extremely pissed people who didn't give a flying f**k what I said and just wanted to skid around on the floor or pinch each other. The funniest part was when I took them into the playground to count our footsteps and, like a firework exploding, the moment our feet hit the concrete, the six little excitable munchkins splayed off in all directions. I couldn't gather them all back into a group for about ten minutes. I think all they learnt about maths was 'How many minutes does it take for that silly woman with the red hair to come and find us all?'. Oh how I laughed. And oh how my slight incline towards becoming a primary school teacher just faded right there and then. But at the end of the class when they all sweetly said in unison "Thank you for helping us today Cathy" I nearly wept. Ah- kids are ace. Maybe there is hope yet.....

Soundtrack: David Bowie-Kooks

Christmas Pudding Dash

For the first time in 400 years, thanks to song called 'Valerie' sung by a big-haired drug addict from Camden (and yes I know it's a cover- but with that bouffant and that voice she's always going to be remembered for it more than the Zutons), ginger hair is fashionable again. And you know what- I had a horrible recollection last night of being chatted up by Miss Winehouse's perverting husband Blake Fearnley-Whittingstall about ten years ago in a nightclub after he had sold me some crack (it was for my friend). This freaked me out a bit as he must have been about 15 years old. I'm sure it was him.
Back to the fluffy world I live in nowadays, I've just signed up to do a Christmas Pudding Dash in Battle, near Hastings, on Saturday 22nd December. I'll be running five miles (well there is a glass of mulled wine at the end- I have been known to run further if there is a drink awaiting me) around the beautiful grounds of some posh house, and if you sponsor me the money will go to the Martha Trust, which is a charity for severely disabled people. Will put details on here tomorrow of how you can sponsor me. And if anyone wants to run alongside me let me know (it's worth it just to laugh at my purple face).

Tits Up

I hate arguments. As much as they are necessary I feel as flat as a Keane record after venting my PMT annoyances. Couldn't get out of bed this morning as still recovering from yesterday's slanging match with my lovely other half. He had very sensibly scarpered for 24 hours to have a break from hormone-nightmare ME, so this morning I was left to deal with the early morning wake up call from Sadie Spec. In order to ensure that I was able to stay firmly under my comforting bedding until at least midday I conjured up an igloo with my king size white duvet and Sadie and I were Eskimos for the next few hours, lolloping about (well- I was laid flat most of the time, pretending to be a very scary polar bear) and playing make believe. Kids are very pliable sometimes if you use a bit of imagination.
I have done nothing this month to avoid the usual moodiness. When will I ever learn eh? I'm off to eat some more comfort food and then sob into my pillow until I pass out. Not really. Well- I will be eating some chocolate but there will be no tears. Yesterday's rant seems to have vented some frustrations it seems. I will sleep like a baby having been burped successfully.

I am officially SAD and no I'm not depressed

Due to the fact that I bit through my bottom lip the other night (NB: cuddling hyperactive children can be dangerous) and decided, as it was HEROES night last night, to polish off a bottle of red wine ('oh really? How unusual!' I hear you cry) with Andy, I woke up this morning with red wine stains imbedded in the holes in my lip. I looked like I'd drunk a BARREL of wine rather than half a bottle. Much top-lip-over-bottom-lip mumblings went on today I can tell you...and that was only to myself!
Onto an entirely different subject, I realised my old personality is definitely coming back lately as I am becoming more selfish about Christmas. Although I still revel in the enjoyment to be had in buying my little girl Christmas presents, my mind is somewhat preoccupied with what I have to add to my ever-expanding list of wants. My selfish, greedy, nature is returning full swing it seems.
Speaking of Christmas, and you will not believe this, I have just placed my Christmas food order with Ocado. How organised am I??!? And how posh to be shopping at Waitrose online???!? I have even booked for us to go to panto, bought an advent calendar and started looking into what carol services are on in our area. I am a girl OBSESSED. I just can't get enough of the fairy-lit season of frolics. And it's not even started..
I should perhaps chuck away the mouldy pumpkin head before I start thinking about buying the tree....

Herdy Gurdy Mushroom Man

I woke up this morning to find that the Oedipus Complex had taken over my daughter's development- she suddenly only wanted daddy to pour her shreddies and to get her dressed. This, by the way, as you can tell by the bags under my eyes, has NEVER happened. It's around this age that little girls, according to Freud, go through a phase of wanting only their fathers and tend to then reject the mothers, and if this is a sign of things to come (as much as I will revel in the fact HE has to do more) I'm not a happy bunny mummy. What if I am no longer the apple of her eye?- more the dried prune wilting in the corner, seeped of most of its life and goodness? All the years I've put in giving her my undivided and unconditional doses of love/attention/organic vegetables, and she might turn around and want the man who's spent most of the last five years hidden behind a copy of the Friday Ads. Nah- I'm exaggerating slightly, but it hurt. I shall attempt to wallow in my new found freedom and it is ace that she and Andy are closer.
We went to a brilliant exhibition today called 'Sonic Body' at the Blank gallery in Portslade. The installation basically invited you to stand inside a human body created from felt and foam: a throbbing, intestinous, red tinted vessel, with an orchestral soundtrack, created by how we moved and touched the various body parts inside; whistling veins, squelches, gassiness (is that a word? she says- the would-be copy editor...according to spell check- no) and high pitched squeaks...I felt like Raquel Welch in Fantastic Voyage, only with more accessibility to prodding and poking the bodily bits. And also not as hot, obviously. It's only on for another couple of days so if you are from Brighton GO AND SEE IT; see www.sonicbody.co.uk
I also got a lovely pressie from my mate Luce today- a badge of a sheep called Herdy-very cute. Thanks Luce!

Soundtrack- Britney Spears vs B52s- Toxic Love Shack

Later: Oh my god, Malcolm McDowell, with his strawberry nose, is Mr Linderman in Heroes!

Lets get ready to ramble....

So last night I spent a very enjoyable evening (except for getting acid reflux- ah the joys of bodily dysfunction after childbirth) with a gang of great mums and kids, watching the fireworks from a window which overlooked Hove cricket ground. We were a mixed bunch; some single mums, some working mums, some stay at home mums- but we all had only children which made a refreshing change, as lately I seem to be surrounded by people having more and more offspring and it makes my head fuzzy.
So there we were, supping our wine and eating our sausages, and we ooohhhed and we aaahhhed at the technicolour explosions before us, from the comfort of her warm living room. As we chatted about what we did outside of being mums, it got me thinking about being a parent and how each one of us has to work around our kids and work out our priorities. I've been lucky in that I haven't had to go back to work in order to make sure we had food on the table. Some extra money would have helped but I had the choice, and I chose to stay at home whilst occasionally taking on the odd part time job. This is all very well and good, and now that Sadie has started school I am so glad I was able to spend so much time bringing her up, but my brain has, quite frankly, turned to houmous. The part time jobs I have had over the years have varied in their ability for me to use my brain (I've been known to go from being a PA to a saleswoman in less than 24 hours), but as an example of my gooey brain I will tell you about my job working in a maternity shop;
A simple occupation you may think, yet my brain could not even deal with this level of a challenge. On numerous occasions I would forget to turn on the burglar alarm (I was the only one working there), close windows, take items to the post office before leaving them inside the shop and posting the key through the door, and, on more than one occasion, would forget to charge someone in pounds rather than pence for a pair of rather exclusive designer maternity jeans. Oh the shame.
I think there should actually be a course specifically designed for us women (or men), who've stayed alone at home for 4 years with a small person (save for the odd playgroup where you are just surrounded by equally mushy minded adults and more small people)to help get our brains retrained into the adult world. Ask me how to draw a skilfully-drawn stick person, or make alphabet brownies, or play 'What's the time Mr Wolf?' and I'm your girl, but ask me to do a simple task like go to a post office before it shuts, and I'm lost. And also probably out of a job and back at home making rockets out of pritt stick and fairy liquid bottles.....

Soundtrack: David Bowie- Oh You Pretty Things

Mommies Who Drink

Yesterday's Observer Woman magazine (well I always manage to read the colour supplements, the tv guide...) had extracts from Brett Paesel's new book 'Mommies Who Drink'- it sounds fantastic and I'll certainly be getting a copy. Brett's honest account of bringing up kids (the boringness of it, the need for wine involvement, her experience of post partum depression just seeming a sensible reaction to having to look after a person 24/7 who screams all the time) is right up my street. I shall also be buying it for all my "mommy" friends this Christmas!
see article: http://observer.guardian.co.uk/woman/story/0,,2202294,00.html

Ban the Bratz!!

Just been on the phone to Joni at Planet Boo HQ and we've been ranting about the hideousness that is the Bratz. Joni has two daughters, aged 8 and 6, and has never allowed the mini-skirted tart toys through her front door. That was until a relative bought her youngest one a doll and now she feels they are invading her household without her control. These whore figurines have only recently entered my parental stratosphere in the last few months and I am horrified. Sadie actually got bought a baby bratz doll last christmas but I didn't even know what it was and it's so small I never worried about it. But now, after witnessing their DVD recently, with its emphasis on vanity, boys and shopping, they are officially banned from our humble abode. Sadie will probably hate me for this, but I will just explain my reasons and hope she gets into the Care Bears instead. Hopefully, by the time she is 8 the f*****g money grabbing men who design these stupid toys will be out of a job.
This subject sprung to mind after I went out last night and saw the worst dressed young girls I have ever seen. There they were, queueing up for a bar in the centre of Brighton wearing nothing more (yes I know I am starting to disturb myself by my motherly ways) than suspenders, thongs and a waistcoat!! We walked down the road behind them as their little (what looked like) pre-pubescent buttocks were just THERE for all to see- and there were plenty of people looking. Judging by their faces these girls were no older than 16!! I nearly cried. I wanted to wrap them up in my big fluffy cardigan and take them home and tell them a few home truths about men and what they want when they see that much flesh, and how little they would get respect, and how they are beautiful and probably lovely girls who should be giggling with their friends, not walking around like prostitutes. But I didn't. I just left them to the lions.
I wondered if they were Bratz fans when they were little, or whether they regularly watched MTV music videos. They had obviously been brainwashed into thinking that walking around at night in your underwear was a normal and sensible idea.
Christ, when I was 16 (in my day) I used to think Chrissie Hynde was an icon, and the skimpiest thing I would be seen wearing was a tight Elastica tshirt.

Soundtrack: Spice Girls- Say You'll Be There

Quietness and Rubble and Bollocks

Day to myself today- it's very unusual for me to be on my own for 24 hours and it's rather nice, although I wouldn't want to do it too often- I am a social creature...
So after enjoying a lie-in and then being able to read and bake and dance about to loud music, I was craving some human life.
Had to visit Taj stores to buy tamari sauce for my dinner, which wasn't really necessary for tonight's cooking- the soy sauce in the cupboard would have done the trick- but I needed PEOPLE. I thankfully bumped into a girl I'd met when I used to go to the Buddhist centre in the days when I was trying to find a meaning (I never did- I just relaxed into the nonsense) and chatted away to her about bollocks (not literally of course;that wouldn't be very zen of me) for about five minutes while her boyfriend looked fed up. That got some of waffle out of my system.
I've also had the neighbour's builder over to inspect the damage they are doing to our ceiling by converting the flat upstairs. He looks like a younger Peter Cook so I went a bit faint and invited him in for a chat (or rather I talked bollocks again) and to inspect my ceilings.. Well- I needed the company. He's given me his number in case it gets worse...I do hope I don't end up under a pile of rubble. He might have to rescue me. (God poor Andy- he's only been away since yesterday and already I'm flirting with gawky looking handy men- I must be hormonal again).
Probably meeting Nat this evening for cocktails and catch up for some more human interaction. She's been on the pier today releasing balloons to advertise Brighton Visitor.Com. Would have gone to have a look had I had my bike...the BASTARDS!!!!
Did some studying but kept getting gravel falling on my notes so only did a couple of hours.
Off to giggle at Peep Show and have a cheeky beer...

Soundtrack: Kooks- Naive

Andy is 17 years older than me- which you wouldn't know to look at us- me ageing rapidly from motherhood and alcoholism, and him having some crafty gene that keeps him looking 35 forever. The age gap has its advantages and, of course, like any relationship, its crap sides. I have always been partial to the older man; I always found it refreshing to hang around with males who've lived a little and have their years of wisdom to share with me.
Older men are also a lot more likely to hang around longer as they've probably done the one night stand fling thing and are looking to settle down a bit. So lucky me got what I wanted and bagged myself an older man 7 years ago, with his interesting stories and his want for a serious relationship (he sure got it- I was pregnant a year later), but unfortunately I also got someone who seriously verges on the patronising when I don't know every ounce of information he has stored away in his 17 extra years of brain matter. I know I'm not the brightest master mind in the building, and there are plenty of gaps in my knowledge of the world, but, as Sophie Ellis Bexter once sang when she was singer with The Audience 'I know enough'. And I really can't stand being patronised. That's my dig at my other half over.....
The lovely Nathalie Gomez de Vera and her son Joe (great lad) joined us last night for another twist of pumpkin delights (we had a Celia Brooks Brown recipe of butternut squash roasted with garlic cloves and sage, and then baked with cubes of gruyere cheese- see her fab website for yummy vegetarian stuff at celiabrooksbrown.com/real.php)and chit chat. Nat has just moved to Woodingdean, near Brighton, and is one of Andy's old clubbing crowd. She's a great lady and I hope to be joining her for a few drinks this weekend at the Koba. She also works for new Brighton mag 'brighton visitor.com'- it's a guide to this wondrous city - have a look at www.brightonvisitor.com or pick a copy up when you get off the train at Brighton on your way to visit me!
Off to do some coursework and try not to fall asleep this time.
Rachael- I know you are reading this... spotted any grammatical errors yet? Thanks for the night time jog btw x

Titleless prattle

Hurrah- Sadie has befriended a lovely little girl at school called Lottie who has invited her over for tea with me on fireworks night to watch the cricket ground display from their lounge window (best and warmest seats in the house!). What is extra great about this is that her mum is ace and we seem to get on like old mates, which is such a relief, after all the awkward moments at the school making small talk with blank faces. It's funny how as much as you want your kiddie to make lots of friends you have to think of your own friendships too, and some of the parents you are forced to smile and be polite with, you'd rather never have to see again. I will be turning up on the 5th with a bottle, as Lottie's mum Fiona seems like my kinda gal.

Soundtrack: The Cribs- Men's Needs