Friday 27 July 2012

Mum's the word

Due to my accident, in my previous blog, it seems even with all this time off my blog has been lacking - well I guess you all didn't want to hear of the adventures of my watching Friends re-runs and eating Ben&Jerrys. But I'm back with my newest unfortunate incident!


Well, I'm just about all better, back at work - still pulling the old "Ow, my ankle I may need breakfast in bed" on James. But I'm basically on the mend. Which means of course, my mother will now see it fit time to visit me.


I should explain - me and mum aren't close, she used to work as an air hostess- basically - when I was a little kid, so I didn't see her ever, so we weren't close and I got close to my dad. But when he died, she had to stop that and worked elsewhere. To be honest, I saw her more when she flew about. But to speak frankly we aren't close, and NEVER will be. Plus, my psychology degree's have taught me this is why I am the way I am - so ha I can blame my personality defects on my mum - though I don't to her face - I don't say much to her face. Actually I think she read about my ankle off my friends Facebook - but I'm side-tracking now, so I shall go on with the story.


Well I was quite happy that they'd given me the four day weekend and my job at the Restaurant was put on hold until my ankle is 100% (For health & safety and legal reason blah, blah what ever) so I thought I'd watch the Olympics and relax the weekend away, but oh no, it cannot go that way for me.
My mummy dearest phones out of the blue last night saying she's on her way to see me and to have my bed ready for her! My bed, was my first thought, then 'oh fuck a weekend with my mother' - That's one thing I can kinda give her credit for, when she says she coming to visit, she means it! Basically her idea of a weekend away is as four day weekend - so I was hoping she wouldn't notice any bank holiday - or whatever it is.


Yes, we actually have stuff like this
we have to display -
publicly!
This is the point in films where couples get out all the hideous items the in-laws have given them over the years, and I'll be honest, we actually have to do the same thing. Anything my mother buys us is very, well ugly she gets us these modern things that she's picked up abroad like giant wooden heads and they'r so ugly, I just don't understand who actually looks at them and get's them for someone they supposedly love... they're like a 'I hate you, but have to get you a gift, so here have this!" presents. So after we unpacked her shit she hadn't been lying she was on her way. She pulled up (In a disabled bay of all places, outside the building) then actually phoned me to help with her stuff - as if I'm not the f*cking injured party here!


Long story short we lugged (or rather James lugged) all her stuff up to the flat, to which she the said nothing to me and asked James when he was ordering dinner in. 


My mum and James are another touchy subject. She doesn't like the fact he's a vet, because apparently 'he spent all that time learning to be a vet, when he could've been a real doctor'. Yes, my mum thinks she wants the best for me and quote unquote 'someone that fits in with out family' - That's another story for another day.
So after my mother was happily fed (ha when is she happy with what I do) we got down to the important business - I know what you're thinking, my ankle - but wrong again! No, the important business is how I plan to pay for my PHD, to which I flipped out on.


Yes, I told her - in the nicest way possible - that's she's meant to be here to see how I'm doing not discuss things we've already discussed... Sigh, my mother and me are chalk and cheese. We DO NOT get along. 
So I decided to make amends this morning and she actually said sorry (and boy was I shocked) and suggested we do something for me - I though oh a nice facial, manicure then home for a film - oh no, my mother's version of stuff for 'me' is going shopping for her holiday clothes because the shops are better here.
I suppose, it's a big step for her to say sorry and she's decided the couch will be fine to sleep on. So perhaps in 50 or 60 years (In other words when she's *cough* passed away *cough*) we might get along.
Hhahahahaha - or not.
But I suppose this is why I say we're snowed in EVERY Christmas. 


Let's just see if I get arrested for murder within the next couple of days!


But a lovely saying does spring to mind:
"You can chose your friends - but not your family" - Goddam person who decided that!

Thursday 12 July 2012

Oooops!

This morning has been the most mortifying in my life - and I'm the girl that tripped during the graduation ceremony, so I can confirm it's been pretty shit.


I was going into work as per usual and doing the rounds shadowing as I normally do when I got the chance to sit in on a child's therapy, you know to see what I want to specify in - Yes, I am aware, I should have chosen by now and I'm now sat with two degrees and still not sure what specific path to take. But, I thought it would be fun, as long as it didn't turn out the kid was like Michael Myers junior, then I'd be fine.


I sat in and the kid had lost his dad young and started acting out ect. Pretty normal for them situations, but his mum had brought him to see the doctor any how. It went smoothly, I didn't say the wrong thing, but I discovered, yet again, I HATE kids, and do NOT wish to work with them - no matter how much of a 'pure natural', to quote my boss, I am with them. Yes, ok, it was alright and if I have to say so myself I thought I had got through to him, until of course I went to leave the room as I was called out and the kid stuck his legs out. I was completely oblivious to this, as was everyone else, well of course until I fell straight forward killing my ankle then completely face-planting the floor with tremendous force may I add.


The next thing I remember is being lifted on to the couch, and being told "It didn't seem broken, but we best rush you to x-ray" Now, my instant reaction was 'OMFG, my face!" - as shallow as it may sound, but you know, face planting the floor, I didn't really want a broken nose. But no, they meant my ankle and which in my state of panic about my face, I'd forgotten about and tried to stand up and see what I looked like - Then I effing remembered it!


I was rushed to x-ray and no - thank god - it wasn't broken, but badly sprained and bruised, along with my now two giant black eyes and my pride. 


When I was back in the office there was a knock at the door, it was the kid and his mum, they'd came to apologize to me, which was fair enough, until however, the kid said me falling was the funniest thing he'd ever seen and he wants me to be his doctor all the time, to which I stated I wasn't a doctor - yet - and couldn't be. But I did hold my tongue and not explain that I'd very much like to see him trip next time.


Maybe, I'm not that cut out to work with kids, but I suppose I'll have to wait and see as surely they cant all be pure evil. Well, I may best not take that chance!


Now, I am sat foot up on my couch with Mamma Mia blaring away, to which I will admit I'm singing along terribly with. But on the up side, James rushed from work to take me home and is now doing some serious pampering hot chocolate, cake the lot. 


I could get used to this injured thing!

Saturday 7 July 2012

Never Again

Well I haven't wrote in a while due to the fact I've been whisked away for few days in celebration of my new job.

I was whisked away for a country cabin brake, in Wales. One trouble with Wales, rain and lots of it.

We went to a little cabin for a five night, four day brake. It was perfect. But during this brake I discovered something I like about rain - sex - and lots of it. The constant rain and no t.v meant that we need to find a hobby we both liked, and we both like this, so yay, good holiday!

Well, it must've been the dark days due to the rain, the indoor jacuzzi, the log fire. But it was a perfect setting  for any best romantic moment ever!
We spent the days waking up early, went for walks in the rain and how romantic is this? He, being a vet, even managed to save a mouse from dying in a trap, I mean come on it was like being on holiday with every prince charming ever!

But, it was also like something from Jeepers creepers, with the guy who runs and looks after cabins. He was a nutter! Like a serious psychopath (I can say that as I have psychology degree!) He would like "randomly" turn up at the cabin to check everything was ok. But I think he just wanted catch us in the act as the first time he knocked I had to open the door with just a short robe on. In my defence, I'm a decent height and they should accommodate to normal people and obviously not those who want to show all.

Besides our scary moments it was brilliant, but the best part was being shouted at in Welsh.
Well, we went out for a night out, you know romantic and we'd met another couple near by and they insisted we go with them. They were nice, but really city folk. I suppose I am, but they were Londoners, having rarely leaving London. So they didn't want to go alone.

Well we went for drinks in the village near by, only to be asked why we were in the "oldies" pub, and not in the night club, by the barman. So we thought we'd check out this village night club. To be honest I thought it would be mirror image the that slaggy night club on Hollyoaks that they all go to, everyone knows everyone and everyone as slept with everyone, so I was not optimistic.

It wasn't quite a raving city night out, but it wasn't half bad, the music was good and it had a fair few in it. The tragic side that made it like Hollyoaks was the fact everyone knew everyone. So when I went to the bar to get us a round in, I started my drunk habit of talking to everyone around me. As the bar was heaving, I ended up talking to the Welsh guy next to me for about ten minutes. As I was about to actually order are drinks a random girl came up to me and was shouting at me and pointing at said welsh guy. At this point I guessed he was her boyfriend. But I really thought I was so drunk I couldn't understand her. Then after working out she was talking in Welsh, I got really annoyed and shouted "F*cking hell, if you're going to have a go, could you at least do it so I can understand you!" She then didn't seem so angry and started looking sheepish. I didn't think I was scary, but asumed I was winning so I got on a role and really started laying into her. But suddenly the welsh guy I'd talked to said. "Could you please stop, she's sorry, but she thought you were someone else." - What a knob I must have looked at this point.

So me now quickly jumping off my high horse due to this humiliation of basically bullying some local girl apologised and bought her a drink - well like I said everyone knows everyone, I wasn't going to run any rick of getting bottled!

So, as we headed home  after me being teased by the group for my "incident" I was not going to sleep, I as too jazzed up and insisted we all get in the jacuzzi. The rest is rather blurry, but it included body shots, gin and then collapsing in the lounge with the fire burning after me and Kerrie (The girl from the other couple) had insisted on swapping clothes, which was damn confusing in the morning.

In short, not a holiday I shall forget soon and we've met a fellow couple, that we're actually keeping in touch with. and hopefully they don't think I want to be a swinger.

But would you like to know the life lessons I learnt?
- I should not be left by myself when drunk
- I should also not be allowed to make the ending night decision as it turns out, I make the decisions that make you think you've had a foursome, or make others think you want to be a swinger, but really you've just got parraletic and swapped clothes with a randomer.

I can firmly say, I won't be drinking, or going to Wales for a bit. Or at least no night's out there.