Ex-nympho supermarket wars

'Happy Go Lucky' was enjoyed yesterday with the ever-soothing and entertaining Joy and Geoff. We were all on the edge of our seats most of the film as, for a Mike Leigh number, is was all too blimin happy. We all expected the smiling and slightly irritating Poppy to get raped by her driving instructor or some such ugliness, but oh no- it was all positive, despite the usual dark undertones and melancholy cello music. Very enjoyable too, although I must remember that being sad and viewing Mike Leigh creations generally doesn't mix. I probably should have opted for a chick flick this time round. Yes- my moods have been somewhat up and down- extremely so. I am told this is normal after splitting up with someone (it's been a long time since I last did- all I remember from then is suddenly becoming a bed-hopping nympho to deal with the feelings of hurt- not something I'll be doing this time around), and if the truth be known I am having remarkably more good days than bad. I've been a little on the feisty side though. Sadie and I popped into Tesco over the weekend and I was laden with bags, a child and her scooter, so I got in a bit of a flap when the basket I was trying to take got stuck. I eventually took the top two out, placed them on the floor, when suddenly the man who had been standing behind me all this time leapt in and nicked the first basket now available. I was fuming!! So I grabbed my basket next in line and charged after him red faced (and quite frankly feeling like I was about to burst into tears I was so insulted), taking great pleasure in barging into him right next to the organic section so that his basket dug right into his thigh. He looked a little perturbed and I felt much better for it. Luckily Sadie was oblivious to her mother getting all violent in the vegetable isle. Not sure how I would explain going against my usual preachings about hurting people not being a good way to show you are upset. Oops.

From Superheroes to Superscum!

What a beautiful day yesterday was. It all started off perfectly- I had set the day aside to spend with my lovely little girl. We spent the morning making white chocolate cornflake cakes and sandwiches for our beach picnic, then we skipped along the seafront whereupon we found ourselves surrounded by the Incredible Hulk, Batman, Superman and numerous Ghostbusters. A race was taking place for the charity Passing It On and contestants were dressed up as their favourite superheroes. This information had somehow missed the Cathy radar of fun runs, no doubt due to recent events and a slight lack of running practise of late.I had been recently ignoring my Runners World emails after all. A lesson had been learnt and I was gutted to have now known about it, but I shall be signing up for it next year. And Rachael would have loved it too. Oh what a lark we would have had.
Annoyed as I was at having missed out on the opportunity to dress up as Wonderwoman and get some well needed exercise, Sadie and I then found a nice spot of sand (yes sand- we do get it sometimes in Brighton you know!) to sit on and sunbathe, eat and play. Afterwards we headed Hove-wards for some trampolining and go-carting, the former of which always makes me do a little pee if I jump too high- tis the bain of childbirth unfortunately. Then we wandered about, drifting in and out of shops, cafes and the like, aimlessly absorbing the buzzing summeresque atmosphere of the high street. Then it happened- I spotted people sitting outside bars and cafes with large glasses of glistening liquid in their hands, laughing loudly and looking like they were in San Tropez or something, and I thought to myself "As much as I am enjoying this quality mother/daughter time THAT looks really fun" so I called up a friend and we spent the remainder of the day in a sunny beer garden working our way through their Rose supply, while Sadie did some colouring in or ate endless Walkers Crisps for entertainment. Friends joined us, more bottles of rose were popped open, and the day just disappeared under a cloud of dopamine and Vitamin D overloading. What a scummy mummy! But it was fun. I now have a tell-tale sign that I was slightly irresponsible yesterday- a bright red forehead. Rose make you forget things like sun safety, and being a ginge it's not a good idea to let that one slip. Oh well- the swelling and itching will go soon.
And now it is completely pissing it down. Sadie has gone to Chessington World of Adventures with her dad, so I'm treating myself to the cinema this afternoon- I'm going to see the new Mike Leigh film 'Happy Go Lucky'. Will let you know what I think on return...
And hello to my new reader L- hope you are enjoying my ramblings. Don't read it too often or not only will you be bored to death, but I will also have nothing to talk to you about when I next come in for a trim!

Soundtrack: Ray Parker Jr-Ghostbusters Theme

Ginger Chocolate Nightmares

Oh god what is happening to me- I still appear to have pureed chickpeas for brain matter. Work is going well but every now and then I do the odd thing that makes me go "what the f%$k did you do that for you plum?" to myself. I am obviously somewhat away with the fairies at times, and only human of course, and the things that have happened haven't done much damage but ARGH. I really like my boss. So much so that it was his birthday yesterday and I bought him a bar of Ginger and dark chocolate green and blacks. I knew this wouldn't be misconstrued as he is blatantly gay (the cats for babies, the mention of someone called Glenn who keeps him awake at night with his snoring; it's becoming clearer)and he loved it. I'm such a creep. He is really fun to work with, if a little bitchy (I do wonder how he refers to me- his dizzy PA with garlic breath probably at this rate. I do eat a lot of garlic). He also talks quite fast so I have to ask him to explain something again sometimes which I HATE having to do as I am usually the sort of PA you only have to explain something to once. But it's his Ulster accent and mumblings that get me every time. Like tonight- he called me on his mobile to give me his computer passcode. "Tumculreefor". What? "Tumculreefor". What again? In the end he had to spell it and he even did that too quick, but by then I was too proud to ask him again what on earth he was saying so I jotted something resembling a passcode that made sense, attempted to log into his computer. One try- ok again- second time- no- ok third time I'll get it right- oh no- his computer then f%$king locked and I couldn't do what he'd asked me to do and when he comes back on Friday he'll have the added job of changing his passcode. As a PA you are meant to lighten someone's workload not add to it. Argh.
I'm such a plum.....

Le Ballon Rouge

Took Sadie to see the film The Red Balloon yesterday. I'd never seen this film before and enjoyed the feeling it gave me of childhood dreams and friendships. I loved the bit at the end of the film where the little boy Pascal, who has caught and befriended a red balloon, is taken off to a better, happier place by a giant bunch of multi-coloured balloons that have floated to him from all over Paris. Today on our way home a red balloon was bobbing about in the road, floating gently towards us. Sadie and I caught it and have brought it home. Ok so it has the words 'Republic VIP' written on it in silver and it is a normal sized balloon,as opposed to the MASSIVE one in the film, but it is still a very odd coincidence don'tcha think?

Enchanted Friday

I don't know what's more worrying- the fact that I sat down to watch Disney's 'Enchanted' last night with Sadie and really, really enjoyed it (to the point where I was either snorting with laughter or sobbing like an undernourished baby) or that I went to bed last night early, straight after said Disney slush and had a really lovely, Disney-inspired romantic dream about me and Sign Shop Man and have woken up in the best of moods. It's rather sad that my dreams are more fun than my reality at present but it's put a spring in my step. And I would thoroughly recommend the film to anyone with a heart and a liking for ginger princesses, handsome men and chipmunks. Thank you Glenn for sending Sadie the DVD- you have hit the nail on the head yet again...
And I hope that one day Sign Shop Man will feature more heavily in my blogs, but perhaps it's actually quite nice for now to have him just in my fairytale (not the Disney kind- more the adult kind with a hint of filth as well as fluff) fantasies.
I think as well as my dreams helping me cope, and my friends, family and a quite expensive but thoroughly worth it therapist, working in a hospital does wonders for my life affirmation. OK so I have a broken heart, but it will mend, and I am free to enjoy my life and my daughter and living by the sea etc; basically my life is pretty wonderful.
I look around the Kidney ward at these poor sods on dialysis, linked up to machines by wires in an artificially lit room that smells of piss (renal failure makes people stink of urine) with nothing to do but stare across the room at another yellowing human before them and I feel privileged that my body is in working order, despite my mind being a tad delusional. Nothing is that bad when you look around you. And hey people- look after your kidneys! Because it's certainly made me appreciate mine.
I hope there's no one on dialysis reading this as I put all that rather grimly but from where I'm sitting, it doesn't look that pleasant. But I suppose the one consolation is that you get to see medical staff wearing those hilarious pink visors.....
Also I'm off out tonight for a few drinks with my friend Rachael which is always nice. Have had a week off the booze- apart from a can of Guinness I shared with my dad last night- as my folks are down for the week and I've used it as an excuse to take care of myself more. Plus my mum is tee-total and starts spitting and my dad and I if we so much sniff at more than one drink a night.

Hang the DJ

Music is such a powerful influence on my feelings at the best of times, but when I'm feeling a bit sensitive and about to burst my floodgates I am particularly partial to an emotional reaction to a song. I have an annoying brain like this as it is always playing an internal soundtrack (even when I'm asleep) that I often have to re-tune to omit the soppy, sentimental shit that can appear in my mind completely unprompted. The night I split up with Andy I woke up in the middle of the night with Whitney Houston's 'I Will Always Love You' (my brain is often on random rather than having any particularly good taste and I have no control over what the DJ of my mind matter will play next) blasting inside my head. I liturally had to sit bolt upright and tell the warbling lady "f*&k off Whitney and let me sleep!" (out loud) before I could settle down again with some decent, uplifting tunes in my head. She did disappear and eventually I persuaded Annie Lennox and her 'Thorn in my side' to send me back to sleep.
(I am officially the queen of cheese and currently obsessed by the '80s it seems..)

Spots and Stripes and Wasted Pants

Did a bit of retail therapy yesterday and thought I'd purchase a new coat. I'm looking for something summery and bright coloured but everywhere I looked were black, brown and khaki adornments. Any suggestions anyone? Nothing too pricey mind, but something stylish, quite smart and preferably pink or aqua...I ended up doing my usual when I am clothes shopping and purchased a stripey item- a black and white top for work and play. I ALWAYS go for stripes or spots. EVERY time. Last time I did a spot of consumer comforting I got myself two pairs of spotty knickers from M&S. They are very cute but it will probably be a long while before anyone, other than me, and Sadie (as she sees me wandering the flat in pants many times over the course of her life), gets to admire them.
Oh well- just knowing I'm wearing them makes me feel better.
I actually hate clothes shopping, but love having new things once in a while. I feel very out of place amongst the ravenous, seemingly desperate Primark vultures. There were women everywhere with their eyes bulging and their arms swamped in multi-coloured sewn together fabrics. I just spy the stripes and the spots and basically grab and run- well grab, buy at the till and run.
I'm even thinking of getting my ears pierced. What with Primark, my work pixie boots and soon-to-be hooped earring look- am I turning into a chav?
It's good to have a new image when you start a new chapter in your life, but maybe not one that appears to be more of a nervous breakdown.

The Real Truth About Cats and Dogs

Why is no one commenting on my blog anymore? Hello? Is anyone actually bothering to read my drivel anymore?? I know some of you are as you send me emails to my yahoo but goddam it- is there anyone else out there? And if not I don't blame you...
Anyway- I'll carry on regardless of no readers. For christ's sake I've kept a diary for 19 years and had no one looking at it and that never stopped me.
My blog is turning into some G-list celebrity hall of fame. My latest encounter was in the Funky Fish club in Brighton on Saturday night. One of my favourite films when I was in my late teens was 'The Truth About Cats and Dogs'; a rom-com about a man who goes for brains over beauty (but let's face it- the girl he chooses is still very pretty of course- see above image of girl on the right); a film that all deluded girls would warm to. The male character is played by the lovely Ben Chaplin, and this is who I drunkenly cornered in a motown club a few days ago. He was, sadly, with his wife/girlfriend who didn't seem too happy, but he was quite pleasant, was surprised to hear that Rachael knew he used to have a cat called 'Oi' and even later came and asked my name. I have to say I was a bit tipsy and did suddenly think I was talking to the man of my dreams (his Cats and Dogs character) but quickly whisked myself away mumbling the words 'He' and 'Is' and 'Just' and 'An' and 'Actor' to myself....

Soundtrack: Arctic Monkeys- Mardy Bum

Aloe Mate

I have been cocooning myself with lots of friends lately (can you tell I read Sadie 'The Hungry Caterpillar' last night?). Despite being in a relationship with the same person for seven years, I have kept in close contact with my mates, lost a few along the way and made plenty of new ones to add to the foray. It is now that I am grateful for the high pedastal that I have always placed my gang of friends upon, for I am reaping the rewards. Many have been willing to come by and see me with flowers, chocolate mousse or aloe vera plants (thank you joy), be on the end of a phone if I need a delirious chat or send me gifts through the post to cheer me up. Thanks Glenn for the Gavin and Stacey DVD by the way- it's doing the trick.
This fortnight is the school's easter holidays, and now that routines have changed somewhat it's meant I've had to swallow my own emotions down (I'll deal with those later over a red thai curry and a few glasses of wine) and think of my little girl's feelings about all of this. I have generously and bitingly-lippedly agreed with "her dad" (as he is now known as to me) that school holidays can be a bit more relaxed and if he wants to take her off for more than a few days he can. This is hard but good for her. She is, after all, turning into a bit of a daddy's girl. He doesn't deserve such a nice ex-girlfriend incidentally but the lucky git has bagged himself one. Shame he didn't work harder to hang onto me really. The fool. And hark at me all full of it. It must be Friday.
Anyway, claws firmly tucked away, and roll on a week to myself. I'm off for a night out in St Albans tonight for a friends' 40th. Long may my busy social schedule continue....

Things are a bit bpar

This is the text message I sent a friend yesterday. I have a new phone and it's been a while since I had one, but due to recent circumstances I made it a top priority to make myself accessible at all times. I just need to get used to texting again that's all.
Came home today to find half the stuff on the mantel piece had gone. Then I went to drop my laundry in the wash basket and it just fell on the floor. The wash basket had disappeared. I looked around the flat and realised that the office bin, the bathroom bin, a vase and a framed photograph of Sadie's cousins had also left blank spaces where they once stood.
I guess someone had started the process of moving out their "possessions". A bit unexpected to find such things vanishing and now I have laid down the ground rules about taking stuff so secretly that my draws end up on the floor and I've got nowhere to throw my used cotton buds. A girl needs some notice.....And some say in who gets custody of which bin. At least it looks as though I'm keeping the fishies...