D.I.Y

My father is crap at D.I.Y. It appears my son has got this defunct gene.
When I was 12 my dad decided to build a kennel, many hours of blood (his), sweat (his), tears (my mothers) later and outside was the most beautiful kennel ever seen.  It seemed a little too good to be true, it didn't even look the same colour as the wood he had been pummelling two days before. Yes, turns out in the early morning, the local petshop got his business.
And so we fast forward to 5 years back (that make sense?) when we bought my son one of those beds, with the desk and cupboards underneath. 48 hours it took for us to put that together (dad and I) (it says on the instructions, one day two people), this time I did the bleeding (scars to prove) and crying. Oh and the holding thumbs when the child got into it for the first time. I've not slept much in the last 5 years waiting for him to come crashing down.  Now he's getting a normal bed and the chunk of wood is coming down. I've been replaced by said son and Dad and him are upstairs as I type. The two of them sound like a comedy duo, who aren't really sure of what they should be doing. At every whirr of the saw (I'm not asking why), I wince, with every brrrrrwwrrrr of the drill I shudder and with every clunk and smash of the wood I cringe. So far no  injuries to report but I'm assured it's only a matter of time. I love my dad, I really do, there is not a man in the world like him, but he's seriously not very good at wood and nails and stuff. His ideas are, the practice is lacking.
And I've just been informed they've made a cupboards. I would love it if I was to eat humble pie, I'd scoff my words up and apologise for this blog, but until I see it, I will reserve judgement and get the bank cards ready for the local store!

Brain picking

So I've said goodbye yet again. Or is it a see you around? I think maybe it is. I like to harbour a tiny thought that maybe the chapter is not closed. Or that it's yet to be read perhaps? Who knows. All I know is that, I had a fantastic time. I lived in the moment of that evening and I feel strangely calm about it all.


Oh yes, it's easy to play the 'what if' game. But it might be that is how it works. A continous (ooh that looks like a wrong spelling Ms Gerrard) meeting up and feeling very at ease. We are, as humans (maybe just as females), conditioned to think that there's a fairytale for everyone, that we are put on this earth to find someone to live happily ever after with. But it could be for some people, that's not how their life should be grown. Maybe, and here's a thought, just maybe we sometimes find a person that you feel connected to but only in short spasms of time. You feel it's in you, it should be that happy ever after because that's how everyone does it but it could be that your destiny with that person is for him/her to make you feel special for that period of time. That you live in the seconds of that time, that you enjoy it and you look forward to the next time you meet.


I might be talking a lot of shit but I am glad I lived for the 24 hours, that I have no expectations (this time, my behaviour in previous years states otherwise) and that maybe there will be another time to enjoy someday. Could it possibly be that I've matured enough to look at me and look at the world and see it can be played unconventionally to the norm? That just because most people do their life from a to z, doesn't mean I have to. I can jump to 'l' and then back to 'b' if I wish.


And be of an age when I'm not raging for a missed chance or two but embracing that I had the good fortune to meet such an epic person and have them share some of my favourite moments with. I could pick out a few but I don't think the www should be privy to all my brain.


In the words of Fall out Boy: thnks 4 the mmrs....

The End

So when I say "Are you seeing anyone?" and you say "No" or some variant of it. And I end up questioning my vibe, my 6th sense, only to find out that the world, his dog and his uncle's sister all know that you have been for quite a while "seeing someone".  Well, then do not be surprised that you are removed from who I consider to be my friends. 
What I value in a friendship is the knowledge that you know me, that you should know that I would be happy for someone else to make you happy. That you spent enough time with me to know that I'm like that. That you could tell me the workings of your life. That you trust me as much as I trust you and value your opinion on my life.
But you don't, so where is this friendship you have harked on about? Clearly you value it as much as an old piece of chewing gum on a thrown away pair of trainers....or maybe not even that much.
And that stings, that hurts, it really does. Call me a fool, because clearly I am. I imagine you'll use the line 'but I didn't want you to be hurt'. But we've both moved on considerably so that's a poor excuse.
Straight answers, that's all I ever ask. It's what your other friends get from you, I don't. Hence, I'm clearly not a friend of yours.
Done.

Sneaky Sixth Sense

If I cared, you'd know about it. But since I don't, you won't.

A line that's been in my head for a few hours now. I did write a long blog about it, but it vanished.

Essentially I credited my 6th sense which to date, has never let me down.

Whooohhooooo for my sneaky sixth sense.

I love Cougar Town (tv programme) and in the episode I watched tonight, Jules says to Grayson 'I just wish you were a little bit different with me than you are with everyone else'. And quite often sentences like that just throw themselves at me. Is that what women want? I think it is. When we are with a lover, we want to see a part of them that their friends don't see, we want to them to be a little softer, a little funnier and a little more 'them' with us. We want to bring something out in them, that no one has ever does.
I remember meeting an ex of a boyfriend and she remarked on what she conceived was a character flaw of him. I remember smiling to myself inside thinking that's not how he is with me. And of course he wasn't, her and I were completely different. And no matter how true you think you are with yourself, you act differently with certain people. Well I do. I like to think I'm adapting to their personality... but maybe I'm just chameleon like? . For instance, some people might think of me as the idiot, others might think of me as entertaining. Different takes on the same flaw? Some people might think I'm funny, amusing, hysterical. Others see that as annoying. It's like the shy girl being mistaken as stuck up ---yes I've had that label too. Actually, I think that's the one that annoys me the most. Once you get to know me, I won't shut up. And when I'm nervous or terribly excited about an event, nothing short of a gag will silence me. But those first few minutes - I'm as shy as a  very shy thing. I blush like a ripe old tomato and I beam like a sunbeam.
And I watch Cougar Town and think yes, maybe I am a lot like Jules, but then I think she's a lot like a lot of ladies I know.