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 |   A place where everybody can feel easily offended - my head! |
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I'm gathering quite a collection of blogs. "Invalid Item"  is a bit-of-a-rant. I've got a big gob, and it would be a shame not to use it. "Invalid Item" is just that. It's the product of the bits of me mentioned above  filtered through my subconscious."Invalid Item" dealing with all things to do with battling sexes, especially exes.Want to know something trivial or obscure? Not really bothered about whether it's right or wrong, as long as it's believable? ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** WELCOME TO THE HUMAN GOOGLE!  I may never have mastered the art of tying shoelaces, but I win every time I play Trivial Persuit. Friends place bets on how many people I can, unintentionally, upset on a night out. I am the place where boundless enthusiasm meets embarrassing arrogance. Important Information - Please Read I realise some folk do not get Satire. I love a little baffoonery and believe, rather like the jesters of old, you can say quite a lot more than kings when people think you are an idiot. If you are literal minded, best not read on. If you can tell your arse from your elbow, and recognise when an attack isn't an attack then please read:
Heck, even if you can't tell your appendages from one another, read it anyway: who am I to tell you what you can do and what to take from my writing?  The XGC rating is due to the unknown content of many minds - it may be fluffy bunnies or....not! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED Welcome to my world! Acme  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** http://twitter.com/acmetweet Skype me at acmetoo template thing-a-ma-bob: {c:green}Write{/c}: {c:green}Edit{/c}: {c:green}Kids{/c}: {c:green}Relationships{/c}: {c:green}Physical{/c}: {c:green}FFF{/c}: |
| Write: I love all the conversations I never had. Perhaps that's why I became a writer; I like them to have existed, at least on borrowed breath. Conversations I never had vary from the sublime to the ridiculous. My favourite of today has to be the following one that didn't happen on the way home from the shops this morning: I'm carrying an unconstructed broom over my shoulder. The sun is behind me, throwing my shadow into sharp relief in front of me. I look wonderfully crazy: my 'fro is being tossed about in the breeze like seaweed around the corpse of a drowned mariner; my new hard broom-head's bristles look as if they are aching to tame it, and I can easily imagine passers-by cracking a joke to the same effect. Looking at my shadow, I realise that I have no idea how to 'build' the broom when I get home. I look more closely at it. There are no instructions. People must assume that everyone knows how to put a broom's head on a pole. Feck. I see a little old man at the bus stop and imagine that I could approach him so: "Hello, old chap! I say, you look as if you know a thing or two about how the world works." "I should co-co!" "Any chance that you were in charge of broom intelligence exercises during the second world war?" "How rude! I'll have you know I was the commander for mop division, you young reprobate. Now bugger off before I clip you around the lug-hole." *sigh* I smile at him as I pass by and try to convey that I need help via pleading looks from my eyes. But, as luck would have it, the fella is partially sighted and remains unaware of my desperate plight. Next, I pass the nunnery. A caretaking man with a big belly is huffing and puffing in the grounds while building a bonfire of wooden off-cuts. If the gates are open I can pop in and ask to borrow a hammer. Then, he could ask, "What for?" and I would have a perfect 'in' for a conversation regarding my broom issues. Then, he could laugh and say, "Oh, give it here! I'll sort it, love. Wouldn't want you to break a nail, now would we?" Only I never have that conversation, either, because a couple of nuns come out of the building. I'm scared of nuns, so I couldn't even begin to think of how any subsequent nun/broom conversation might go. I'm nearly home and still clueless as how to construct a broom. There are workmen ahead, but they have low-waisted, dirty jeans on, and I could park a bicycle between their arse cheeks. There's no way I can talk to them. They'd give me funny looks. I round the corner and the happy-tappy-Buddhist-monk-man is walking toward me with a delightful air of peace and tranquility about him. "Hello," I imagine saying, "I've just run away from some nuns, because I'm not sure they could help me with one of the cosmos's most crippling dilemmas." "Then tell me about it and if I can offer direction, I will do so." "How do I put the bristle-head onto the shaft of this broom?" "Are you serious?" "Yes, I'm serious. Do I need a hammer and nails?" "No, you just need to grip the pole between your knees, place the little hole on the top of the broom-head over the pointing end of the pole and then, with both hands, ram the head over the shaft and pound it against the floor until it goes on and doesn't come off." "That's it?" "That's it." *uncomfortable silence as we both study the broom* "Good luck with your broom," he says, and makes to move past me. Oh, no you don't, matey, I think, and deftly block his escape route with a well placed broom handle. "I feel oddly cheated." He sighs and smiles, knowingly. "Don't we all, sweet-cheeks? Don't we all?" Edit: Not really. I've been fiddling about with profile piccies from here on FB. No, I don't really know what I'm doing but it makes me look like a someone who can't build a broom, never mind understand how computers turn ones and zeros into a picture of me. Kids: Junior's gone in for a competition to meet someone that I think is called Justin Beaver ? Apparently, he's really cool and really cute. Fair enough. BA thinks he's *insert sicky noise here* She's gone off to Cub Scouts.Relationships: Shopping joy. I have spent more money than at any other point this year. That said, it was still half my shopping budget pre-split from hubby. I felt wildly excessive, but it was one of those shops where I needed more than groceries. Such items included, a broom, a hammer, cleaning equipment and chemicals, non-food materials, etc. Hopefully, supplies will last about six months. Physical: Carrier-bag weight-lifter extraordinaire. Aside from that, I've done a fair bit of walking, but, with my increased appetite, my weight-loss has stopped, but my wobbly bits are less wobbly  FFF: Food Lots... again... should be wwwaaaaaaayyyyy fatter than I am. 2 x scrambled egg butties with HP sauce 1 x bowl of beany, quorn veggie stew with pickled red cabbage 1 x HUGE cheese and onion pie with chips and beans 1 x dollop of chocolate and 3 x homemade choco-flumps* *As regular readers will note, there is not much in the kitchen that I haven't been able to set fire to; this list has included such flammable delights as pasta and eggs. Today, I excelled myself by setting fire to chocolate. Not only did I nuke it beyond safe levels, I melted a plastic container which then dripped molten choco-plastic-polycarbon-goo all over my sneakers. It was like killing an Alien: the goo melted through the plastic toe-shield of my sneaker, before leaving a charcoaly mess on the laminate flooring. Feck. I'm a regular hazard* Feeling Tickity-Boo A new 'F' section to celebrate all those new-found pleasures in exploring the universe around me. Today's amazing new life skill and tool for empowerment was the Amazonian joy of induction to the age-old wisdom of broom building. From table-making to hedge-trimming, from cleaning while dancin' to wearing skirts, who knew that the joy of living could be so frickin' delightful?  Flippity Gibbets Favourite sayings section. I'll start off with the one above. I do like using it as an exclamation of horrified shock. BA asked me what it meant and I took great delight in regaling stories of how criminals were hung and their corpse left dangling in the wind by the road-side to serve as a warning to others.  She wants to be a highwayman, now *sigh* There's just no warning some folk, is there? |
Golly. Talk about feeling "under starter's orders"  It's been a fabulously busy weekend. For the first time since knocking the fags on the head I've wondered how on earth I ever found the time to smoke 'em I ended up getting to bed at 1:30am this morning (fab Russian film, Night Watch, was on and I got hooked, again). This meant that my plan to wake at 6:30am and get down to the New Smithfield Market Sunday Market and Car Boot for 7:00am was shot down in a hail of snooze-alarm whacks from ZombieAcme. I did, however, make it to Mass It was a GLORIOUS spring day here in Blighty. On the walk to church the sun was warming our backs as our breath billowed out little white clouds against the blue sky. Fab. Mass finished noon-ish. There were no bacon butties because it's Lent, but homemade soup and fresh bread was served, and the proceeds given to the Lenten charities. The girls and I ate well and then decided to walk to the local park that we've never been to. Going to the park with them is the one thing on my 'Happiness List' that I've not managed to tick off yet, and such a beautiful day demanded that we should rectify that. Problem was, the park we went to didn't have a play area, it had a basket ball court and a skate park, but no swings, etc. We had a choice: go home, or walk further to the next park. We walked further to the next park. This park was locked up and was a 'building site', because the local parks' department were landscaping and refurbishing the children's play area. So, no play!  Not to be too dour, we returned home, glad that we'd spent a good hour together at least. The spring day was too good to waste, so the kids played out on their bikes and scooters while I took out a couple of month's of pent up frustration on the overgrown privet bushes at the front of the house. I'm glad they are hardy and resilient; I've 'pruned' them back to their nekkid twigs. My arms ached, my hands were calloused and filthy, and I had leaves in my 'fro. It felt feckin' wonderful. I showered, changed, and made the kids a smashing tea before logging on for the first time today. Days seem to be getting better. I hope it lasts. I feel so fresh, vital, and re-engerised at the moment. I'm in love with the world. And every day I'm just a little bit more in love with me, too. Gee, but it's good to be alive. |
Hurrah! Have had a wonderful evening out with the children  We've had a great day in each other's company, from tidying up this morning, to chilling out this afternoon, to partying at their aunty's house while the new fire was tested (ooh, lovely!).It was smashing to see my other sister (Twinny), her husband and their children, too. Lil' sis bought a huge pot of pickled and spiced anchovies. Next to herring, they're a favourite--a fishy fave that went down a real treat *burp* Our charcoal looked pants, and when the family friends from Marsden turned up, they took the fire in hand, fetched kindling, firelighters and fuel from the garage and had it roaring in no time. I swear, I've never seen a group of 20/30-somethings so engrossed by something that wasn't the latest cult show from the US, music, or alcohol. We all stood or sat around, soberly lost in the delight of watching orange and yellow flames dance around inside the new burner. "Ooh, look. The lump of coal on the left looks like it might roll off!" Oh, the drama. Those seated moved to the edge of them. It rolled! We cheered. A new lump of coal went on and a bit of old pallet wood. The fire crackled. A crisp-muncher was asked to shush so we could hear it. Kids will not let a fire take over a party. Soon they were up in front of it, blocking it from view and playing that old favourite 'Bum Charades1'. For those that don't know it, you verbally announce to the guessing players if it's a song, an artist, a film, tv show, etc., and then turn your back on them. This is because, instead of gesturing and miming, the person who is cluing has to shape the letters of the answer with their arse. It's hilarious. I was, of course, a natural genius at it. Cracking night. Crackling fire.  Footnotes |
| Write: Shattered. No time. Yawning as I type. 'cor, who'd have thunk maintaining a glowing 'fro could be so exhausting, but it's wilting, I tell ya--wilting. Done a lot of work writing, but not the creative type. TA's taken the kids for a few hours, so I have a choice: 1. Write 2. Clean the house 3. Mass with Stations followed by Choir I'm going for the third option. I like a little bit of liturgy on a Friday night, and besides I've not attended Stations of the Cross all Lent. Ooh, and I wonder if I'll be able to get to the end of a line in a hymn without gasping for breath now that I've given up the dreaded weed?  We shall see...Edit: Only the parish mag, which I'm pleased to report is mostly printed Kids: Love 'em. Bless. Miss 'em, too. There's no Writing Cafe tomorrow and TA's working so he won't be seeing them. That means that we are 'working' on Saturday. By that I mean the kids are getting all their homework out of the way and tidying their rooms, while I tidy the rest of the house, cook, and do some gardening. If the afternoon is nice, we will treat ourselves to playing in the park. Ace. Relationships: I like being me. I thought this was worth reporting. I feel happier in my own company that anyone else's, right now. So, me it is! I went to work in full Drag today. My colleague was amused to discover that I did, indeed, have two legs (covered as they were in thick, black, opaque tights). I told him, "They move in pairs." I felt ever-so camp. Delightful. Physical: Walking. I'm loving it. FFF: Food Fabulous food day, so far: 1 x fried egg buttie with HP sauce 1 x crap pot noodle 1 x HOMEMADE fish and chips (yes, all of it was homemade! I baked my potatoes in spray-oil to crisp them, and I made my own batter, too, for a thinly sliced cod portion I found at the back of the freezer )Fags Still on edge. This is, however, day three, so any minute now the nicotine will have left my system and I will be all sweetness and light... any minute... any minute now... Fermented Grape Juice Nope. There is no wine, nor any other type of alcohol, in the house. It's going to stay that way until the end of Lent. I shall be going out with the girls next Friday, so I'll no doubt have a glass or two then |
| Write: aww, crap. I'm my own worst enemy of the very best kind. I asked my friend at work to link my laptop up to the parish server so that I can access work from home... and so I've spent two and a half hours fiddling about with the Parish Magazine before logging on here. I know ... what I'm like? That 12 hour per week job will become an unpaid 36 hour week before I know it. The amount of times I've woken up at midnight with a gnawing need to check the Roman Missal to make sure I've got the right readings. Yup, now I'll actually be able to 'have a little check' rather than go back to sleep. Silly Acme. (was fun to fiddle, though ) Edit: Other than the parish mag? Yes! The Writing Cafe wrote a series of community advice sketches for the elderly. The project they were used in has wound up and the project co-ordinator needed to write up the end of project report for the funder. He hired me to do that. So, today, I got to edit one of my own sketches as an appendix to the project's final report/evaluation document. Hurrah! I will be pocketing a small, but very welcome sum for my three hours of typing. Every penny counts Kids: Not so good, today. Junior's trying to pick a fight. I recognise that teenagers need to test their mettle against their parents, but, seriously, who the flip butts heads with a Taurean born in the Year of the Ox? erm, another Taurean born in the Year of the Ox? Feck. She so like me, yet so different. I stood fast on the principle point, and, uncharacteristically, gave way to her on minor points. Bloomin' heck! Seems like I'm learning to pick my battles--either that, or I've suddenly become infected with a diplomacy virus. Relationships: Bumped into the regular driver for the Chemist. It was her job that I covered over the tail end of last year while her father was in the final stages of his life. She looked good. He was at peace when he passed, and subsequent family events, such as the funeral, have given her a lot of comfort and relief. It was good to see her. One of my other friends received some bad news. The cancer he thought he had beaten has come back. He is a lovely man with a wonderful wife and delightful 8 year-old child. Words can't express how badly I feel for them all right now. Suffice to say, I'm praying for them, and at least my girls and I have not had to go through anything quite so horrid. It's certainly put the divorce into perspective. Physical: I'm still paying for my food excesses by leaving the car on the drive It won't do the environment, or me, any harm. Walked and jogged around the parish like a curly-whirl-winded-wonder today. This included my monthly check up at the doctors. She was well impressed with the leaner, non-smoking, happier looking me. Sure, she still dosed me up to the gills with the happy pills, but, hey! If they're working, then they're working I'm not totally reliant on popping a pill, don't worry--I start work with my therapist tomorrow, so I can get my mind/soul/heart in shape along with my body.FFF: Food I think I've found my groove. At least it's a little better balanced than eating all or nothing 2 x toast, lashings of butter and apricot jam 1 x bacon bap, dripping with HP sauce 1 x big bowl of pork and cider casserole (gawd, thank goodness that's the last of it  )1 x packet of Cheese and Onion crisps 2 x cheese and onion mayo buttie 2 x scones and jam More coffee than narcoleptic security guard on his final written warning Fags Am patchless. Have gone cold turkey. Feel fine. We'll see how it goes  Fermented Grape Juice No. |
| Write: another job application Edit: No. Kids: They aren't best pleased with me--I'm making us all tidy the house in five minutes time (mean mom) Relationships: Just work... work... work... I can feel a slight case of the Jack Nicholson's coming on I shouldn't moan, really. I just secured an extra 3hours from another client. Pennies cannot be sniffed at. That said, I've decided I really can't afford to follow my heart and take on the other Parish Administrator role I've asked for an application pack for. A few more hours here and there, rather than drastic changes to the norm, would suit me best until I know more about TA's divorce settlement intentions. The ball's in my solicitor's court now.Physical: Oodles. I left the car on the drive again today and hot footed it around the Parish. Yes, I'm slightly sweaty and fuzzy-fro'd, but I needed it. FFF: Food The day ain't over yet, but so far: 1 x slice of toast with apricot jam and lashings of butter 1 x big bowl of pork in cider 1 x packet of crisps (Not 4, no. Just one. Singular.) 1/2 an urn of crap coffee Fags New patch strength, new crap mood. I may be better just to rip it off and go cold turkey now. Will consider doing so tomorrow morning. Fermented Grape Juice Nope. I am saving up for my comedy night in Manchester with the girls. Right. I'm off to tidy the house. At the moment, I feel as if I should ask any visitors if they've had a recent tetanus jab...  |
Write: Grogan Flapsplatt is a character in one of my stories. He's a very wooden male fashion model. He's also a 'bit part player', but I always liked his name. Names are very important to me. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Ah, but would anyone really want to take a big whiff of something called a 'shit-flower'? I never took my husband's name. When our children were born I insisted that we both choose their names: I chose the surname (mine) and he could call them any forename he liked. Seems like I had the gift of foresight; that's one last crinkle to iron out of the grand scheme of the life of Acme. As for writing? I haven't penned a darn thing, except this blog since he left... over a month ago... a month is a very long time in Acmeland. I'm reviewing, though. Ok, it's not creative writing, but it is writing, nonetheless. I'm also having a great time reading some wonderful items--not least, one of alfred booth, wanbli ska  's poems, which I will have the pleasure of revisiting soon. While I dearly wish I could take my own advice that I doll out: not to worry, to free-write, or use a prompt, or take notes, or use the time to edit, etc., etc., I really do miss writing. I think I'm scared of it. It is as if all my self-esteem issues and fear of failure has been transferred to my writing, instead of being absorbed my my marital woes. I thought I was handling the whole 'my husband left me' thing a little too well. Turns out that I wasn't; I've lost my writing mojo, and I can't even think of a good character name Edit: No Kids: BA swore today. Twice. She said ... *gulp* ... she said that ... ROCK IS DEAD! Junior and I have hatched a cunning brain-washing plan to tie her to one of the dinning room chairs and do a Clockwork Orange on her sacrilegious little ass: we're going to make her watch Jack Black in School of Rock until she comes back to the flock.Relationships: Good working ones. I applied for another part-time Parish Administrator's job (8 miles away). If I get it, it means that I'm still woefully short of funds, will lose about half my benefits (meaning that I will actually have less to live on than now), and will have to fork out for childcare. Thing is, I love being a Parish Administrator... to the point where I would do it at a loss and let my family suffer? erm, yes. Gawd, I need to be offered one of those highly paid, mind-numbing, soul-destroying jobs that I've applied for. I'm such a sell out. I'm working for The Man. aww, heck--I've been infected with a seriously bad dose of counter-rocking. But, yes, seriously, if I do get offered one of the full-time jobs I've gone for, there's no way I could consider turning it down, given the current state of things. I want to provide the best I can for my family. I want to save up, too. What for? erm, THIS: http://www.churchofscotland.org.uk/properties/index.htm The former manse on North Ronaldsay in the Orkneys *sigh* Physical: Walking, dancing (oh, boy, what fun! Learned an old English circle dance waltz of which I can't remember the name), and puttering about. Good job, too. A friend dropped off some UK size 12 jeans that I just about got into (slight muffin-top roll ), but due to three days of non-stop scoffing I can't do up today. I think my non-smoking munchies have kicked in. A friend at the Writing Cafe has suggested that I write instead of eat crap. That would be great... BUT I'VE LOST MY MOJO!FFF: Food Yesterday: 1 x sausage sandwich with HP sauce 1 x chunky vegetable minestrone soup and a roll 3 x jaffa cakes 2 x flap jacks 3 x packet of crisps (potato chips) 1 x huge pile of spaghetti and meatballs 1 x Devon Cream Ice Cream with orange chocolate sauce 1 x bar of chocolate Today: 1 x orange 1 x bunch of grapes 5 x jaffa cakes 4 x packets of crisps 1 x left over chunky vegetable minestrone soup 4 x chicken nuggets 2 x big bowls of pork in cider casserole 1 x half submarine roll filled with cheesy mayo *burp* Fags I seem to be better off when I forget to pop a patch on. Today I remembered to use a patch and have been grumpy, as well as eating everything in sight. Fermented Grape Juice I need a bit of a break after discovering the delight that is a southern French drink that looks cloudy when mixed with water and tastes of aniseed. |
| Had a lovely night I wore a skirt. It looked good! I wore a smile that looked better I enjoyed good company, good food, a good view across the table, and a humorous story about pumpkin shagging. I did not put out the vibe, nor did I flirt outrageously. Got walked home and simply said goodnight. Thing was, I meant it--it was a really good night! Oh, and he was quite the dish, lemme tell you--quite the dish {e:dreamy} |
| Am putting The Wall & I into action. I have bathed. I have plucked. I have brushed. I have scrubbed. I have ironed. I am a clean Acme. I have tried on my outfit for tonight and been given the thumbs-up seal of pre-teen approval. Apparently, I don't look too OTT, unlike the first outfit I tried on... ... I couldn't resist it! Ages ago, I was given a dress-up outfit for a Superhero Fancy Dress night. I didn't wear it. I couldn't. I didn't fit into it. I found it when rooting through the wardrobe for anything that might fit the current smaller version of me. I sooooooooo wish I could use a camera and upload bluetooth piccies, because--no word of a lie--I made a fabulous WONDER WOMAN! Ace. In my satin tights, fighting for human rights, I'm a wonder, Wonder Woman Right. Best get ready. Wish me luck, and all that. |
| Write: Yes! I bloody well have erm, nowt much exciting, but did dabble with a new section on dialogue punctuation for Punctuation 101 Edit: Edited much of the existing WDC version of the workshop and made it Writing Cafe friendly. Kids: Gawd, I missed 'em. It's ace to have them safely back and tucked up in bed. They had a smashing time spending the weekend with their father. I'm glad. They needed it. He needed it. I needed it Relationships: Good I seem to be doing alright at not fecking up with folk. Had a smashing time with sis last night, and a smashing time with her again tonight (this time we were both at a mutual friend's house with her and her partner). Laughed so much that I choked and wee'd a bit Want to see what at? If you're not aware of the phenomena of 'Sleeptalkin Man', then click and giggle, guys--just click and giggle:http://sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/ Physical: Lots of walking around. I dumped the car on the drive when I got back this am. Consequently, I've been out and about on foot. H gave me a lift to Marsden and Sis brought be home again (30mins drive each way). FFF: Food Ooh, I'll be fattie Acme in no time 1 x fried egg buttie with lashings of butter and HP sauce 2 x big bowls of creamy (single cream) fish chowder + huge wedge of doorstop bread 1 x big bowl of 'corned-beef and every veg hash' at H's, with HP, Red Cabbage and a massive crusty cob covered in--you guessed it--lashings of butter 1/4 of an entire apple pie... with two massive dollops of double cream 3 x glasses of vintage red (oh, my, it was to die for {e:gush}) 1 x urn of DAMN NICE coffee (thank you, Writing Cafe) Fags No, but, possibly because I was in the company of a couple of smokers, I did find it rather hard to be a non-smoker today. However, the whole '40 days for Jesus' thing guilted me into inaction, as did the health benefits to my single-parented children, as did the fact that I'm stone broke, and as did the fact that I want to be 'datable' in the future, and non-smokers stand a better chance of getting snogged. So, No. No fags. Fermented Grape Juice I swear, I've been spoiled rotten with tonight's wine. I don't think I've ever tasted anything like it. H is a top exec. For Christmas presents, clients buy her expensive things. This includes a lot of booze. The bottle we opened tonight had no label. It was a black, dusty bottle, with a red wax seal on it. A piece of string was sealed into this wax and held the cork in around the bottle's neck. These were the only identifying marks on the bottle, but to look at it, I could easily imagine it in some old Count's dank cellar, aging to the point of joining the seat of his ancestors. H loves skull and cross-bone motifs as much as I do--if not more, actually. So, not to be completely down the Swanee on a wine idolatry kick, we drank it in plastic skull goblets from Halloween. Lovely I do have to admit, though, I felt terribly occultish: not because of the skull cups, but because the wine was so mysteriously bottled and so damn fine to drink, I thought that maybe the devil himself had squeezed out the grapes in his own vat of the damned and mixed it with the blood of an ancient vampire just waiting for some daft chick to come along drink it, and end up getting possessed. Or, something along those lines Anyway. It was lovely. |
| Write: Plenty! Plenty to write later over in the The Wall & I. Edit: Yes. It will involve editing... again. But more on that later... possibly tomorrow. Do you get the impression that I'm in a rush? Well, I am. I'm at my sister's house and talking to her Lithuanian friend, and mine, Jolanta. Kids: Two of 'em. Off with hubby (ex-hubby) to York for the evening. Gawd, I miss 'em. Relationships: Spent time at Youth Club and chilled out with 8-13 year old angst. Ace Physical: Lots of eating, basically. FFF: Food 1 x slice of toast and butter 1 x egg fried rice 1 x jerk chicken, rice and peas Fags Moi? No. I don't smoke. Fermented Grape Juice I'm Shiraz-tastic (hic) |
| Gawd, I just love crazy Irish bastards. Failing that, I just love Irish musos. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
| Write: Yes-ish... I'm trying to, honest. There's a delightful contest for UK writers to pen a short crime story for a network telly provider. The prize is cool. The entry's free. The deadline is May. It should be doable, but I've LOST MY WRITING MOJO Couldn't do much more that stare at the blank screen when I attempted to write a Short Shots entry for the February contest Edit: Just that darn solicitor petition list. It, too, is not going well; I can't seem to turn my life into bullet points. Kids: Smashing. They're made up, and so am I. I spent £30 today on a non-necessity that has made them the happiest kids on my planet. Last year the UK had a digital switchover to television transmissions. TA hasn't been arsed doing any jobs on the house for over a year, so when the freeview boxes broke down, he said he'd get round to fixing it and never did. Well, I'm a big girl now, so I picked up the local business telephone directory and had a man come around. He was a lovely little old fella, who bish-bash-boshed himself around the attic and fixed the aerial. Sure, it cost £30 but now, when the cable gets cut off, the kids will still have telly--free telly, with limited channels, but telly, nonetheless They bounded upstairs to their rooms and went to goggle-eyed heaven for an hour or so. I got cuddles a plenty--you'd think I'd turned water into wine. Ace Relationships: With shop personnel! I did something I'm terrible at: I took back an item that I had impulse bought and did not need. Usually, I just let things collect in my wardrobe and then chuck them out years later, having never been worn. Not today. I took back a coat that I'd bought as at 'bargain' for £12. Sure, the shop couldn't give me the cash, but they could let me exchange it, so... ... ... I BOUGHT A PAIR OF FMBs!  Physical: Walking, again. Plus numerous stairs. I keep forgetting things, come back down, remember, and then run back up them, only to forget again. Must be all the extra oxygen to my brain, messing with my head. FFF: Food 1 x slice of toast with apricot jam 1 x chicken, rice and peas leftovers for lunch 1 x Chili and rice 1 x golden syrup pancake 4 x HUGE jam and butter scones 2 x hot dogs with mustard, onions and ketchup... delish! 1/2 an urn of crap coffee FMBs Check  Fecked-up World of the Strange My fingers hurt. This is good. They hurt because I've been bashing the betsy out of my six-string doing a sing-a-long-a-Biffy-Clyro medly. I loves to rock. I rock good. No, I did not wear the boots. I wore the cute skull and crossbones sneakers. |
| Yum, yum, yummity-yum. My mum says she hates the sound of a squeaky string on a guitar, but it's like honey dribbling down my ears... erm, in a good way I love a bit of Biffy. This this is the tops, and now know how to play it, meself. Mum also thinks I've forgotten that the volume knob on the stereo also turns to the left. Oh, and, bless her, she's cleaned my kitchen so it doesn't poison the kids... mmm... I'm not that slovenly, you know. I let her mother me; it's doing her the world of good; she can't stand to be useless in a crisis. Love, love, love her, even if she drives me barmy Turn your knobs to the right: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
| Write: Not creatively. I'm missing it terribly, but have had to buckle down in the real world for a while. Today was full of work, followed by family, friends, and then three hours in front of google trying to find the best/cheapest electricity, gas, water, home insurance, internet and phone deals Needs must. It's good that I'm not playing the ostrich, and my learning curve is turning into a vertical climbing line, which is also good, but golly--if I knew that being a grown up was so darn boring, time-consuming, and all revolved around money, I might have never left the band and started a family. I hope there are benefits to growing up, and eagerly await the holy grail that is known as 'independence'. Edit: As soon as I've updated the bloggeroo I'm running a workshop at the Writing Cafe this Saturday. I'm rather glad to be distracted, as TA will be taking the kids away overnight, and I'm worrying that he'll run off to start a new life in Egypt. Unlikely, yes, but maternal heartstrings are a tad over-protective at the moment. The workshop is about my favourite of punctuation marks--you guessed it: the almighty comma (don't giggle--I love 'em, even if I abuse 'em ). I just hope that I've remembered to backup all the old workshop challenges that were were originally kept on TA's computer  That way, I can cheat and do much by copying and pasting.Kids: They're stoked at being able to go away with their dad this weekend. Junior is buzzing about her birthday in May. TA's asked her what she wants and she has her eye on a bright-blue acoustic guitar she's seen. She said she knew I was poor, and would just love a cake and a card from me *sigh* She's so darn thoughtful, but I want to be creative: what I can't give her in gifts, I can give her in time and experiences. I've told her she can have a sleep-over pajama party with three of her friends camping out in her room (subject to divorcing living arrangements, of course) as my present. She loves the idea... as long as there's cake. Relationships: Done well here, so it kind of makes up for not having time to write. I've spent hours chatting on the phone with friends, or seeing them in person. I am blessed to have some very special people in my life. I also feel as if Cheryl Cole and I should meet for tea and biscuits. Poor bird. She'll be right, though. Physical: More walkies, plus a spot of voluntary cleaning at the hall. Gawd, I love the floor buffing machine. I swear, it's incredibly therapeutic. Remember Scrubs? Was it just me, or was the janitor rather hot? I digress. Junior's godmother sent over some size 12-14 (Brit sizes, not US ), trousers and skirts. Good gravy--they fit perfectly. I phoned and thanked her and she told me it was about time I got my legs out for a spot of fresh air (I never wear frocks and such). I told her I liked the green skirt she sent, and she asked if I had any FMBs. "What the feck are FMBs?" I asked. "Are the children within earshot?" she whispered down the phone. "No." "F**K ME BOOTS!" "Holy moly! They don't make those these days. Do they?" "Yes, they do. erm, do you know what I mean now?" "Not re-e-eally." "Knee high, dirty-heeled, bad-ass, black leather. Trust me. Get some. They'll earn their keep, no matter what you pay. Consider it a singleton's necessity." "ooo-kay... I'll bear it in mind..." I'm not sure I'm ready to wield such power. After all, I'm not even sure if I can negotiate a walkway in anything higher than sneaker FFF: Food Avians. Lots of feathered friends. 1 x slice of plain toast (iffy belly careful Acme) 1 x turkey breast, savoy cabbage, broccoli in cheese sauce, pile of carrots, heap o'mash and lashings of gravy... yes, I went to the carvery again 1 x jerk chicken breast 1 x urn of crap coffee Fags MY FIRST WEEK! YAAAAAAAY! Fermented Grape Juice This has not been on the menu, but I'm kind of preparing for it, because I have a series of bootstrap-cheap nights out planned, some of which will involve imbibing the grape and grain: Friday night = (if not snowing) The kids will be overnight with TA, so Sis has invited me over to hers to share a bottle and learn the ways of eBay. Who could say no to that? Sunday = Not quiz, but a comedy night in the sticks. I love a bit of stand-up, but because of the countryside location of the venue, I will be a nominated driver. Next weekend = *gulp* Dinner party at a friend's. She's lovely, and I will finally get to meet her French husband. The other guests will be a wonderful writer-friend from the Writing Cafe and her husband, who I have also not yet met. Worried about me being the spare wheel? Don't. Apparently French husband's equally French, single, brother will be in attendance. ooh, male company, no pressure, Acme; it's not like he'll be hot and into you--it's just dinner with friends and he's there as a family member who happens to be in the country with his brother... not because he heard that a fine-'fro'd wonder-hobbit suddenly came onto the open market. Breathe girlie, breathe. Think of the food, not the fella. Saints preserve us. I'm a hormonal wonder, aren't I? Friday 12th March = Night out in Manchester with the girls. What kind of night would someone like me be on? You guessed it: more comedy. Off to the Comedy Store for cheap ale, cheap food, and cheap gags. Bliss. |
| Write: Yes. And I'm planning on doing a little more, too. I've had my head up my bum, so didn't see the Feb Short Shots contest piccie, but I loves a bit of cinema, so I think I might well have a bash at it. Tweeted for the first time in yonks, and popped into FaceBook to read Mavis Moog 's latest fab poem. Edit: Yes. Lots. One acknowledgment for the anthology that I wasn't very happy with, and I FINALLY edited my grounds for divorce. No way near as entertaining as Lornda~ House of Martell ~  funny write:
Kids: Good. They've both gone to bed ON TIME Maybe they're burned out. Bless 'em.Relationships: Made a conscious decision to regularly contact friends on a Tuesday night. If I don't schedule a time/date to do it, I'll be shockingly rude and let them drift out of my life: not good. I value my friends, and because I'm such a habitual person, making sure that I remember to let folk know I'm thinking about them, instead of just thinking about them, is a good habit to adopt. Physical: bit weird on the physical front. I woke up at 1:00am this morning, with ye olde watery mouthe of sickeness. You know the one: the torrential waters of saliva that bode badly for bedsheets. I ran to the loo, wasn't sick (not sure how) and then ran down stairs to the cupboard of doom, where the mop bucket cowers in a corner. I popped it by the side of the bed and hoped I wouldn't need it. I didn't, but the sad side-effect of this was that at six o'clock tonight I only had a ten second warning before lower rumbles began. At least this means I know my metabolism runs at a rate of approximately 17hrs from belly to bottom. Not sure how useful that small fact will be, but I'm sure it will come in handy one day. (Apologies for grossing anybody out.) Subsequently, the only physical exercise I've done to day consists of taking two stairs at a time when rushing to the bog. FFF: Food Naturally, an iffy belly doesn't stop me eating. 1x slice of toast (no jam, just lashings of butter) 1x sandwich spread buttie 1x pear 1x jerk chicken, rice and peas, and Jamaican Hot sauce. I had to go Caribbean--I had a pash dream about a Jamaican athlete last night and wanted to savour the flavour of that Fags I'll be shuffling off to bed in a mo, so that will be one whole week without the dreaded weed. Fecked-up World of the Strange Have sent a text to many, regarding my wardrobe malfunctions. So far, due to knowing incredibly skinny people, and to people saving pennies by not changing wardrobe staples, I have yet to receive a positive response to my cry for second-hand smaller-waisted jeans (boobs are still humongous, so no need to worry about my tops not fitting yet )... no way! Just got a text from a friend letting me know that she has two skirts (never really worn those before) and a pair of trews that might fit the bill... or, rather, fit my arse. Hurrah! |
| Write: Yes. In chat, with an Epson printer guru. I used to rely on TA for all things technical, because, well, because I'm lazy, and if I don't 'get it' straight away, I can't be arsed. Thing is, I needed to make the printer work, so I spoke/wrote on line until it worked. The kids can now print off their homework. Hurrah. I don't work on Mondays, but I went in for the morning to catch up on all things Parochial Church Council. The APCM is due on low Sunday, and this is the first year that I'm supposed to be presenting the Annual Report. I've been handed reports from groups and committees for weeks now, but due to being a natural procrastinator, I haven't done a darn thing about them until the looming deadline of the next PCC meeting swallowed my horizon. So, yes, I've written all morning: copy typing and putting other people's punctuation to rights. Edit: I guess that means I've been editing, too, huh? On more of a creative writing kick, I have to edit a couple of shorts as possible off-line competition entries. Kids: They were both rather upset last night. BA was murder to wake up this morning for school, and was so grumpy that I seriously thought of having a fag. I didn't, and nor did I pander to her grumpiness. I simply removed myself from her line of attack (hid in the kitchen until it was time to go to school). Must not be intimidated by a seven-year-old. Relationships: Been my usual charming, smiling, self today. Feels good to get my playground mojo working again. Talk about working the crowd; I'm a flippin' ringmaster. Love my friends. They're all yummy mummies, and today, I felt like I fit right in amongst them. Hurrah for curly hair let loose. Physical: Tummy muscles are aching after all the gym work at the weekend, so I've stuck to walking today. Saying that, I've done a fair bit of it. I had to take the car out this morning, because today is the only break to be expected in the crap weather and I can't drive on snow. If I didn't take it out today, the battery would have probably died. I gave it a good run to the shops and then parked miles away from them, so that I had to do a fair bit of walking and carrying. Then, when I got home, I left it on the drive and did the 1/2 mile walk to and from BA's school to collect her. I haven't spent so much money in a long time: £20 food shop, £36 clothes shop (closing down sale for school uniforms, so I've bulk-bought for the next few years ), £10 bits and bobs shop (Easter eggs while cheap, and household items). Wow. Can't remember the last time I spent over £50 in a day. I feel a bit faint. But, let's face it, it's doubtful that I'll be able to spend so wildly for a long time to come!FFF: Food Good ole basics. Gotta love 'em. Actually, I do: I'm not wasting half as much now that I'm buying fresh and meal specific. 1 x toast and strawberry jam 1 x sandwich spread buttie 1 x packet of salt & vinegar crisps 1 x cheese omelet 1 x urn of crap coffee Fags I went down a patch strength, and it's noticeable. If I were to follow the instructions on the pack, I'd be at the first stage for a good month or so, but, budget being what it is, I simply used up an old open supply of stage one and went straight to the weaker hit of nicotine in stage 2. I'll do it, but only for a fortnight, because then those run out and I'm onto the weaker still stage 3 patches. I've got to say, I'm still rather proud of myself. Even if I fail, I've done well to get to here. One day at a time, Acme. One day at a time. Fecked-up World of the Strange Am seriously considering finding a local archery team. I wanna be a ninja assassin. |
| Write: I did not do any writing when away, but I did do an awful lot of reading. It was great to catch up with half-mused through books that were waiting for a rainy day for me to read. Sure, there was no rain, but there was plenty of snow and crackling log fire to curl up in front of. Bliss. I can't tell you how darn idyllic it was. erm, not true. Yes, I can tell you how darn idyllic it was We had a contemporary, beautifully decorated, two bedroom villa with log fire, two loos and all the fittings (dvd/dishwasher, etc.). Patio doors led to a BBQ space of woodland with no overlooking properties. That didn't mean we weren't looked at--oh, no--every conceivable British woodland creature came up close and personal: rabbits, pheasants, guinea fowl, foxes, birds of every wing, squirrels, etc., etc. Fab. We got there at 1:00pm on Friday. The kids were booked on the climbing wall in the sports hall at 2:00pm, so we tried our hands at map-reading and had an hour's wander about the woods for 45mins. I had my first ever 'Starbucks' coffee (nice, but pricey, and I'm not sure what all the fuss is about), overlooking Junior on the climbing wall. She was great, but very cautious. Even with the belay, she refused to put herself at risk of falling, or looking daft. I had great expectations for BA, she's so white-knuckle, but who knew? She's afraid of heights! There's a first. Saying that, every superhero has a weakness, and that one must be hers. I told them I was proud of both of them. It was time to find our villa! The kids bagsied the twin room, which meant poor Ma Acme had to share a double bed with me. I remember when we went to Paris together, she had a nightmare of a time sharing with me; I grind my teeth to biblical proportions, and tend to be a bit-of-a-human-starfish when it comes to taking up any and all available bed space. Funny thing was, I didn't sleep too well, so got to know the darker side of Ma's sleeping habits: she's a twitcher. Not only that, but she's a snorer, too. Hurrah! I'm not the only bad bugger to sleep with Ma Acme wanted to treat me, so she asked if I fancied being pampered at the Spa. I said, no. A real treat to me would be access to the sweaty, man-stinking gym. She laughed and bought me an anytime access pass for the entire weekend. I just didn't have time to use it on Friday night, because at 5:00pm we went ten-pin bowling. For years, I've been the family bowling joke, because someone always has to come last. Feck it. I tried to do it properly--bumpers down and everything--and I won! Me! Crap-handed-Acme won. Ace. I even got Xs. I've never got Xs before. At 7:00pm we went swimming. I took the two swimming costumes I took to Corsica in September. erm, they didn't fit In the end, I went for the one that had a ton of fabric wafting and washing behind my arse, rather than the one which sloop-necked below my boobs. As a teen, I often mulled over which bits I'd cover if I was suddenly naked in front of a crowd, and now I know: boobs before bits. Let them all see the crack of my arse, but NOT my aureole! The pool was a sub-tropical paradise with wave machine, plunge pools, bubbly-bits, and shoots and flues. My favourite part was the 'Strudel Pool' which was toasty-hot and went outside under the stars. There was a white-water-rapid slide that wove around the outside of the building before landing back inside; it was brill! We got back to the villa after 9:00pm and I read in front of the fire until 11:00pm. mmm. Lovely. I was up at 7:30am and off to the gym before the family woke. It was such a beautiful, solitary, walk with nature to get there. Nobody was about, just the forest, coming to life around me. The trees were painted with frost, and all the browns were gilded in sliver. I felt so alive. Then I worked out--hard--for an hour and felt fit to drop I got back to the kids and Ma, who were all having breakfast and had made me a bacon buttie. I could have been in heaven. BA and I had plans, though, so we couldn't dally. We took a half-hour walk through the woods to the outdoor activity centre, where we'd book 'Robin Hood and Little John's Archery'. I found my sport I remember when my dad took me shooting, it had felt so natural, which was scary for a pacifist vegetarian. Archery felt even better. The bow, the arrow, me: we moved like I envy ice-dancers. WHHHUPP! Gold. THWUP! Gold, again. Feck, I thought, I could do this all day! Only I couldn't. BA hated it, because she's very competitive (erm, I can't say anything, can I?), and didn't like the fact that her arrows didn't always hit the mark. I told her not to worry, that I was jammy and a grown-up, and that if I was seven, she'd totally whup my ass. That made her feel better.In the avo, the kids went to 'Spy Club' (Junior) and 'Time Out Club' (BA) for three hours, so Ma Acme amused herself, as did I, by reading, chatting about divorces, and playing sudoku with each other. When we got the kids back, we took them swimming again. Saturday evening was spent teaching them how to play poker and then fleecing them for all their sweetie money. *sigh* I love poker. Didn't sleep that night. Still got up this morning to make the most of the gym before other people woke up. The snow was thick this morning, so Ma Acme went off to find advice about the roads and an up-to-date weather forecast, while I took the kids swimming for the last time. We had a slap-up lunch and then came home. I've got three loads of washing to do. Half-way there. I'll just pop another load in and be back... Edit: Only my body. I've started to become a little more conscious of what I put into it, and what I ask it to do. I really appreciate the new opportunity to remodel it, but recognise the need to do so in a healthy way. My food intake is back up to three meals a day and a healthy snack, the gym/exercise is starting to hone and tone, and I'm not drinking nearly half as much coffee as I used to... mostly on account of only being able to afford shite coffee Kids: It was great to PLAY with them! Heck, I can't remember the last time we had fun, simply splashing, running, or chasing, about with each other. They're good kids. It was good to relax with them. Relationships: EVERYONE at CenterParcs is married. Bastards. Sure, it was great to see families having fun as families and spending time together as families, but, heck, couldn't there have just been a few dysfunctional ones to nod at, knowingly? Physical: You name it, I worked it, baby erm, apart from love muscles, obviously.FFF: Food 3 x square meals a day and a healthy snack. Go me! Fags Still off 'em! And believe me when I say, I could have done with one tonight. It's day 5 of ciggie-sobriety, and I'm winning, so Hurrah! Fermented Grape Juice Nah. Can't be arsed. |
| I'm back, and this time, I'm pissed. erm, no, not really--I just always wanted to say that Had a fab time, another mini-epiphany, a smashing idea, and discovered a hidden talent. Will tell all, when my smashing idea has turned into a smashing thing Missed you all like crazy. |
| Am off to hide the laptop... probably in the oven--I always hide it in the oven. *note to self: find new hiding place*. I've washed up, emptied the bins, checked the window locks, dolloped bleach down the pan, and put the timers on the lights. And then we're off. Gawd, I'll miss you. http://www.centerparcs.co.uk/villages/sherwood/index.jsp |
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