Just in case you've been missing me, I've done a guest post on another blog. World Domination Handbook. Here I am.
Don't read it if you like stupid questions, or if you are opposed to general ranting and use of the word fuck. A lot.
Tuesday 16 October 2012
Thursday 4 October 2012
Pillow Talk: Don't Text The Ants
Mr B was falling asleep the other night and treated me to this observation:
Mr B: I like sleep. Warm inside. Warm. Warm. Cold outside. Brrrrrrrrrrr like a penguins. Penguins don't sleep.
Me: I'm fairly sure they do.
Mr B: Yes but you wouldn't sleep in the cold, would you? *thoughtful pause* Oh, but you're not a penguin. I wonder if ants sleep.
Me: I'm fairly sure they do.
Mr B: Find out for me tomorrow. Write it in your phone. Now. Now's good. But don't text it to the ants though.
Mr B: I like sleep. Warm inside. Warm. Warm. Cold outside. Brrrrrrrrrrr like a penguins. Penguins don't sleep.
Me: I'm fairly sure they do.
Mr B: Yes but you wouldn't sleep in the cold, would you? *thoughtful pause* Oh, but you're not a penguin. I wonder if ants sleep.
Me: I'm fairly sure they do.
Mr B: Find out for me tomorrow. Write it in your phone. Now. Now's good. But don't text it to the ants though.
Wednesday 3 October 2012
Conversations With Mr B : The Crossword Part Two
Scene: The night after the first crossword incident The scenario is pretty much identical.
Mr B: What's another word for a high-pitched cry? I thought screech but it doesn't fit.
Me: Squeal
Mr B: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllll
Me: Yes
Mr B: What are you on about?
Me: That's the answer to the question
Mr B: Oh.
Mr B: What's another word for a high-pitched cry? I thought screech but it doesn't fit.
Me: Squeal
Mr B: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllll
Me: Yes
Mr B: What are you on about?
Me: That's the answer to the question
Mr B: Oh.
Wednesday 26 September 2012
Conversations With Mr B : The Crossword - Part 1
Scene: Sat at home. Baby B has just gone to bed after a day of screaming. I am sat with a hot cup of tea, minding my own business and enjoying the peace and quiet. Mr B is sat in his armchair with coffee, the latest copy of the newspaper and a pen.
Mr B: What's the opposite of tired?
Me: Erm... awake? Not tired? Why?
Mr B: I'm doing the crossword. The clue is the opposite of tired. I think it's untired. That fits, I'm going to write that.
Me: I'm not sure that's how the crosswords work. You're meant to answer the clue.
Mr B: I have. Untired.
Me: You're meant to answer it with a real word *
Mr B: Next clue. Unrefined. That's airs and graces isn't it? That would fit.
Me: No. That's not unrefined.
Mr B: But why? It fits. It has the right number of letters.
Me: It doesn't answer the clue.
Mr B: Why not? It has the right number of letters.
Me: That's not how the crossword works. You answer the clue with a word that is actually the answer to the clue, not something totally random.
Mr B: Right. Some kind of exotic vegatable pulse thing beginning with an M. Eight letters, fourth letter is B.
Me: Mung bean.
Mr B: That's just made up.
Me: Nope, it's a real thing.
Mr B: I'm consulting google.
Me: You do that.
Mr B: Oh
Me: So it is real then?
Mr B: Yes, but it can't be right because it doesn't fit with airs and graces.
Me: But that's not the answer to unrefined. Unrefined is someone who doesn't have airs and graces.
Mr B: Yes, so it must be that, it fits.
Me: I don't care if it fits, it's not the f*cking answer.
Mr B: I think it is.
Me: Can you stop talking now?
Mr B: Why?
Me: I preferred listening to the teething child.
* Disclaimer: his newspaper of choice thinks this is a real word, I disagree and am backed by the spell-checkers on my computer which are going crazy with squiggly red underlining that means "what the f*ck are you on about? This is not a word. Sort yourself out". Unrefined was "rough and ready" (not airs and graces) and Mung bean is a real thing and was the answer to the clue.
Mr B: What's the opposite of tired?
Me: Erm... awake? Not tired? Why?
Mr B: I'm doing the crossword. The clue is the opposite of tired. I think it's untired. That fits, I'm going to write that.
Me: I'm not sure that's how the crosswords work. You're meant to answer the clue.
Mr B: I have. Untired.
Me: You're meant to answer it with a real word *
Mr B: Next clue. Unrefined. That's airs and graces isn't it? That would fit.
Me: No. That's not unrefined.
Mr B: But why? It fits. It has the right number of letters.
Me: It doesn't answer the clue.
Mr B: Why not? It has the right number of letters.
Me: That's not how the crossword works. You answer the clue with a word that is actually the answer to the clue, not something totally random.
Mr B: Right. Some kind of exotic vegatable pulse thing beginning with an M. Eight letters, fourth letter is B.
Me: Mung bean.
Mr B: That's just made up.
Me: Nope, it's a real thing.
Mr B: I'm consulting google.
Me: You do that.
Mr B: Oh
Me: So it is real then?
Mr B: Yes, but it can't be right because it doesn't fit with airs and graces.
Me: But that's not the answer to unrefined. Unrefined is someone who doesn't have airs and graces.
Mr B: Yes, so it must be that, it fits.
Me: I don't care if it fits, it's not the f*cking answer.
Mr B: I think it is.
Me: Can you stop talking now?
Mr B: Why?
Me: I preferred listening to the teething child.
* Disclaimer: his newspaper of choice thinks this is a real word, I disagree and am backed by the spell-checkers on my computer which are going crazy with squiggly red underlining that means "what the f*ck are you on about? This is not a word. Sort yourself out". Unrefined was "rough and ready" (not airs and graces) and Mung bean is a real thing and was the answer to the clue.
Chocolate
I promised you a picture of chocolatey goodness in my last post. I always deliver. Here it is:
Chocolate brownie with ice-cream (nom)
Hot chocolate.
These pictures are giving me the craving. Guess where I'm going after my doctor's appointment?
Sunday 2 September 2012
A Few Of My Favourite Things
* Raindrops
* Roses
* Whiskers on kittens
* Bright copper kettles
* Warm, woollen mittens
* Brown paper packages tied up with string
Wait. Wait. Wait.That's not my list at all!! That's a very different list of favourite things, although I do like mittens. And brown paper packages. Don't panic, I haven't turned into Julie Andrews and started wearing skirts made of curtains and bouncing around full of happy, or surrounded with an army of small, sweetly singing children. That's not very me (not even pre-medicated me!).
Here's my list of my favourite things. In a loose sense of the word. In fact, it would probably be better for me to call it a List Of Things I Like. Sort of. A little bit. It's part of that whole happy-ish thing.
My Stack Of Books To Read
This picture only contains a handful of the books I own, but have yet to read. I have loaned a number of them to friends who I know will enjoy them, and who might as well be reading them whilst I can't. It's impossible for me to concentrate long enough to read an actual book. Or rather, I can read, but if I don't read the whole book in one sitting, I lose track of the plot and it becomes very confusing. In fact, this also happens if I read the book in one sitting, but at least I manage to get to the end of it so it feels like I've read a book, even if I haven't retained any information whatsoever from doing so. The books on this stack that I am most keen to read are the Joanne Harris and Jasper Fforde ones. I'm saving them for when I'm less stupid, because I really want to enjoy them, and I know I won't if I read them right now.
My Notebook
I started this book on S's advice. It would appear that she shares a little of my love for Paperchase and seriously pretty notebooks. Armed with a sense of righteousness that can only come from being instructed to buy a pretty notebook ("and make sure it is a pretty one"), I went to Paperchase and brought home this beauty. It's a shame really that I fill it with my nightmares, my anxieties, and my general misery, punctuated with lists of things and a colourful variety of naughty words (of the F variety). In fact, probably the only positive thing I've written in it was a copy of Gala Darling's "Sad Trombone List" : a list of things to do to cheer yourself up. So, when I'm in a bad cycle I can look at the list, and make myself feel worse by pointing out that I couldn't possibly do any one of those things. Maybe one of these days, I'll progress and actually do something.
Hot Chocolate and Brownies
There are few things in life that a hot chocolate and a brownie from Gareth James Chocolatier's can't put right. I don't know what kind of witchcraft goes into making his brownies but they are beyond amazing, and I say this as a hardened chocoholic, who has eaten a LOT of (frankly inferior) brownies. I defy anyone to tell me there's a better brownie out there. I really, seriously wish I had a photo to add to this, but I've neglected to take any!! That's going to have to be my new week resolution: get a photo of hot choc and brownies from Gareth James (which won't be at all difficult to achieve). Add into that chocolately mix some of the friendliest people you will ever meet in a shop and you have the perfect place to get your chocolate fix. Go now. If you don't like chocolate, try their ice-creams: I highly recommend the mint choc chip and hazelnut praline.
A Box Of Smiley Faces
Because, who could continue to be miserable when faced with a box of chocolatey goodness. Even better, the chocolatey goodness came from friends of ours as a thank you present (they totally didn't need to get us a present, but they did anyway), so it is virtuous chocolate. I'm sure this means it is guilt free and calorie free, which may go a little way towards explaining why I have eaten it all.
My Knitting
There's something oddly relaxing about knitting. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. That's the noise of the needles, not just me being random. It should be an irritation, but it isn't. I also find counting stitches and rows and following a pattern oddly calming. I think mainly because you don't have chance to get distracted by random thoughts. I have just finished knitting a number of lovely patterned squares for a charity blanket, and am now working on a knitted waistcoat for the small boy.
Mollie Makes
My Boys
I have nothing to say about this that won't make me sound crazier than I am. I can't help smile at them!!
And finally, just in case this was getting too sickly sweet....
Baby B's Pregnancy Test
Well, not actually Baby B's pregnancy test, for the obvious reason that he is far too young to have impregnated anyone. Fortunately, I have many years ahead of me before that possibility rears its ugly head. This is, in fact, the test I took (and passed) when I found out I was having baby B. Don't worry, it no longer smells of pee as I have removed the pee part of "pee stick" and disposed of it in an entirely sanitary fashion. I just kept the stick part with the funky symbols Baby B used to say "ha ha ha ha, you thought you had a chest infection but I'm a baby, ha ha ha ha, see you in 9 months"!
* Roses
* Whiskers on kittens
* Bright copper kettles
* Warm, woollen mittens
* Brown paper packages tied up with string
Wait. Wait. Wait.That's not my list at all!! That's a very different list of favourite things, although I do like mittens. And brown paper packages. Don't panic, I haven't turned into Julie Andrews and started wearing skirts made of curtains and bouncing around full of happy, or surrounded with an army of small, sweetly singing children. That's not very me (not even pre-medicated me!).
Here's my list of my favourite things. In a loose sense of the word. In fact, it would probably be better for me to call it a List Of Things I Like. Sort of. A little bit. It's part of that whole happy-ish thing.
My Stack Of Books To Read
This picture only contains a handful of the books I own, but have yet to read. I have loaned a number of them to friends who I know will enjoy them, and who might as well be reading them whilst I can't. It's impossible for me to concentrate long enough to read an actual book. Or rather, I can read, but if I don't read the whole book in one sitting, I lose track of the plot and it becomes very confusing. In fact, this also happens if I read the book in one sitting, but at least I manage to get to the end of it so it feels like I've read a book, even if I haven't retained any information whatsoever from doing so. The books on this stack that I am most keen to read are the Joanne Harris and Jasper Fforde ones. I'm saving them for when I'm less stupid, because I really want to enjoy them, and I know I won't if I read them right now.
My Notebook
I started this book on S's advice. It would appear that she shares a little of my love for Paperchase and seriously pretty notebooks. Armed with a sense of righteousness that can only come from being instructed to buy a pretty notebook ("and make sure it is a pretty one"), I went to Paperchase and brought home this beauty. It's a shame really that I fill it with my nightmares, my anxieties, and my general misery, punctuated with lists of things and a colourful variety of naughty words (of the F variety). In fact, probably the only positive thing I've written in it was a copy of Gala Darling's "Sad Trombone List" : a list of things to do to cheer yourself up. So, when I'm in a bad cycle I can look at the list, and make myself feel worse by pointing out that I couldn't possibly do any one of those things. Maybe one of these days, I'll progress and actually do something.
Hot Chocolate and Brownies
There are few things in life that a hot chocolate and a brownie from Gareth James Chocolatier's can't put right. I don't know what kind of witchcraft goes into making his brownies but they are beyond amazing, and I say this as a hardened chocoholic, who has eaten a LOT of (frankly inferior) brownies. I defy anyone to tell me there's a better brownie out there. I really, seriously wish I had a photo to add to this, but I've neglected to take any!! That's going to have to be my new week resolution: get a photo of hot choc and brownies from Gareth James (which won't be at all difficult to achieve). Add into that chocolately mix some of the friendliest people you will ever meet in a shop and you have the perfect place to get your chocolate fix. Go now. If you don't like chocolate, try their ice-creams: I highly recommend the mint choc chip and hazelnut praline.
A Box Of Smiley Faces
Because, who could continue to be miserable when faced with a box of chocolatey goodness. Even better, the chocolatey goodness came from friends of ours as a thank you present (they totally didn't need to get us a present, but they did anyway), so it is virtuous chocolate. I'm sure this means it is guilt free and calorie free, which may go a little way towards explaining why I have eaten it all.
My Knitting
There's something oddly relaxing about knitting. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. That's the noise of the needles, not just me being random. It should be an irritation, but it isn't. I also find counting stitches and rows and following a pattern oddly calming. I think mainly because you don't have chance to get distracted by random thoughts. I have just finished knitting a number of lovely patterned squares for a charity blanket, and am now working on a knitted waistcoat for the small boy.
Mollie Makes
This is my favourite new find. Or rather, thing that J introduced me to. Grown up friendship bracelets, felt toys, quilting techniques, crochet patterns, knitting patterns... What's not to love? It's an oddly inspiring magazine, and so pretty to look at. Mollie Makes is made of proper paper (not that shiny sh*t that other magazines come in) and has a really old-fashioned feel about it, whilst still being awesomely cool!! I've just got the latest edition today and I'm looking forward to the opportunity to curl up with a cup of tea, flick through it and decide on some weird and wacky projects to start.
My Boys
I have nothing to say about this that won't make me sound crazier than I am. I can't help smile at them!!
And finally, just in case this was getting too sickly sweet....
Baby B's Pregnancy Test
Well, not actually Baby B's pregnancy test, for the obvious reason that he is far too young to have impregnated anyone. Fortunately, I have many years ahead of me before that possibility rears its ugly head. This is, in fact, the test I took (and passed) when I found out I was having baby B. Don't worry, it no longer smells of pee as I have removed the pee part of "pee stick" and disposed of it in an entirely sanitary fashion. I just kept the stick part with the funky symbols Baby B used to say "ha ha ha ha, you thought you had a chest infection but I'm a baby, ha ha ha ha, see you in 9 months"!
Saturday 1 September 2012
Breaking The Cycle
I'm supposed to be practising being positive (aka not being a miserable cow), but lately I seem to have got myself into a very negative cycle. It starts off with one bad day, and spirals out of control until you realise you've been in the mother of all bad moods for several days / weeks/ months and you can't really remember how you got there. It's difficult to explain to other people, but I'm going to try.
Imagine a regular bad day for you. Prior to this, a bad day for me would probably have involved travelling to a far away office, having my train delayed, being late for my work appointment and worrying about this, only to find the person I was meant to be meeting isn't in the office, and eventually ends with being late home because (you guessed it) my train was delayed. Or something like that. The solution? Watching trashy TV with a bar of chocolate and a huge mug of tea. You might include a rant to your significant other / parents / confidant of your choosing. Perhaps even have a take away tea. The point is, it doesn't take a lot to shake off a normal bad day. You go to bed, you wake up and everything's pretty much okay again. Obviously, this doesn't work for more serious bad days and awful life events, just regular bad days.
Now a bad day starts with waking up feeling as though I've never been asleep, or worse still, like I've been giving birth in my sleep. I can't imagine giving birth is fun any which way you try it, but my version is decidedly nasty. Sometimes I will wake up with funky marks and bruises where I've clearly been beating myself up in my sleep. That's a bad start. Let's face it, no good day ever started with a bad night's sleep, did it? Then something will add to that bad start: S will be growing a tooth and grouching, the buggy will break, something else will break, I'll get a letter or email that's far too hard to deal with, have to go to the hospital, lose my house keys or whatever. All boring mundane things that add to a regular bad day, but which suddenly feel like the end of the world. My default position is to stuff my face full of chocolate (because chocolate boosts your happy hormones), except all that does is make me feel like a blimp, which makes me mad at myself. Not just a little annoyed, but really mad. I'll take a couple of sleeping tablets and decide to have an early night: tomorrow's another day and all that. Then I won't be able to sleep, because my mind is spinning with things I can't pin down, or stupid things that are irrelevant to life, the universe and everything in it. I'll spend half the night worrying about something that doesn't really warrant worrying about, or something that does warrant it, but which I can't do anything about. And so the cycle begins. After a few days, I can't even remember what made me mad in the first place. I will find myself wide awake at 3am typing out a complaint letter, or (better still) watching back to back episodes of Buffy (The Vampire Slayer) with mugs of weak, milky tea, whilst doodling on a piece of paper, or when that runs out, my leg, because why wouldn't you draw a picture of a tree up your leg at 3am? I didn't say it made sense. It's a negative cycle. It just does what it wants and goes on and on and on and on and on until something breaks it.
Well, it turns out, I'm meant to be the one to break it. Supposedly by focusing on happy things, or setting goals or something. It was S's idea (S, the fabulous person who takes care of my Mental Elf, not S the baby). So, in that spirit, I decided to do a post of happy. Ish. To be fair, it's probably going to be more ish than anything else, but I'm doing it all the same. It is a post of my current favourite things. Actual things, not ideas of things (like world peace) or things I can only have if I win the lottery (a house in the Lake District).
It's coming next. I just wanted to warn you so that you didn't keel over from the shock of me posting something less grouchy.
You're welcome.
Imagine a regular bad day for you. Prior to this, a bad day for me would probably have involved travelling to a far away office, having my train delayed, being late for my work appointment and worrying about this, only to find the person I was meant to be meeting isn't in the office, and eventually ends with being late home because (you guessed it) my train was delayed. Or something like that. The solution? Watching trashy TV with a bar of chocolate and a huge mug of tea. You might include a rant to your significant other / parents / confidant of your choosing. Perhaps even have a take away tea. The point is, it doesn't take a lot to shake off a normal bad day. You go to bed, you wake up and everything's pretty much okay again. Obviously, this doesn't work for more serious bad days and awful life events, just regular bad days.
Now a bad day starts with waking up feeling as though I've never been asleep, or worse still, like I've been giving birth in my sleep. I can't imagine giving birth is fun any which way you try it, but my version is decidedly nasty. Sometimes I will wake up with funky marks and bruises where I've clearly been beating myself up in my sleep. That's a bad start. Let's face it, no good day ever started with a bad night's sleep, did it? Then something will add to that bad start: S will be growing a tooth and grouching, the buggy will break, something else will break, I'll get a letter or email that's far too hard to deal with, have to go to the hospital, lose my house keys or whatever. All boring mundane things that add to a regular bad day, but which suddenly feel like the end of the world. My default position is to stuff my face full of chocolate (because chocolate boosts your happy hormones), except all that does is make me feel like a blimp, which makes me mad at myself. Not just a little annoyed, but really mad. I'll take a couple of sleeping tablets and decide to have an early night: tomorrow's another day and all that. Then I won't be able to sleep, because my mind is spinning with things I can't pin down, or stupid things that are irrelevant to life, the universe and everything in it. I'll spend half the night worrying about something that doesn't really warrant worrying about, or something that does warrant it, but which I can't do anything about. And so the cycle begins. After a few days, I can't even remember what made me mad in the first place. I will find myself wide awake at 3am typing out a complaint letter, or (better still) watching back to back episodes of Buffy (The Vampire Slayer) with mugs of weak, milky tea, whilst doodling on a piece of paper, or when that runs out, my leg, because why wouldn't you draw a picture of a tree up your leg at 3am? I didn't say it made sense. It's a negative cycle. It just does what it wants and goes on and on and on and on and on until something breaks it.
Well, it turns out, I'm meant to be the one to break it. Supposedly by focusing on happy things, or setting goals or something. It was S's idea (S, the fabulous person who takes care of my Mental Elf, not S the baby). So, in that spirit, I decided to do a post of happy. Ish. To be fair, it's probably going to be more ish than anything else, but I'm doing it all the same. It is a post of my current favourite things. Actual things, not ideas of things (like world peace) or things I can only have if I win the lottery (a house in the Lake District).
It's coming next. I just wanted to warn you so that you didn't keel over from the shock of me posting something less grouchy.
You're welcome.
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