Action

It appears baliff action works. I have a few payments of maintenance coming my way. I'd say thank you to the parties concerned but the fact it had to go to 13 years and baliff action, means I've been waiting far too long to be gracious about it.
And it's not that CG has ever gone without but that's been with a lot of help from my parents. There is no way at all my life would be half as easy without them. And yes, it stings when you see the other party has been living it up while I look to Heavens and wonder if I'll manage to buy trainers and PE kit or just the trainers. Or if my gas will last. Now, many folk would say 'Aaah but you bring a child into this world...". And I agree, but I never planned this relationship would end, in fact I put up with cheating within that relationship when I was 6 months pregnant because, the thought of bringing my child into a single parent environment was horrendous to me. I was pertubed enough that I wasn't married, but I digress and my veiws and opinions have moved on from there. I also never thought that my son's father would turn out to be so remiss in his responsibilites. I guess that's the bit that shocked me most of all.

But this is not a woe is me blog, this is just pure facts, that finally I have some maintenance soon to come into my bank. It means the school camp and scouts camp can be paid for outright, it means my credit card isn't going to groan when I take it out my wallet and it means I don't have to ask my dad if I can borrow cash again.

This is my birthday week and it has been grand so far. I've danced until my feet ached, I've laughed with good friends, I had a cupcake from somewhere I've wanted to go for ages (didn't live up to the hype but no matter), I had a video from my lovelies in Australia and a quote from AinW from my N. And roses from someone (haven't a clue).
Yes, if this is what turning *@? does to a person, I'll have some more please!

Hangover'd feet

I don't do hangovers. Never had one, never want to have one. But my feet have appeared to have taken the idea and run with it (hehehe amusing after Vodka Ice...)

I do suspect it's a 'chick' thing. It's where you add 4 inches plus to your height in the shape of pretty footwear and dance the night away. It's a little silly, when you haven't worn the heels in 4 months. And my feet are protesting even the day after the night before.

But I can't blame the shoes. How can you blame the most prettiest shoes in the land?

Hic

I miss you. There. I've said it. Never want to be over emotional, but I look around and nothing compares. So I miss us, you, me, all of it together.

I've titled this 'Hic', because I'm slightly under the influence. Fact remains that the sentiment is true.

I miss....the feeling of being whole.

The years and times

I've been meaning to write a blog about this for quite some time. It appears that time is now and it couldn't be more apt.

The last week or so of February is always a nice time for me. And during my lunch break today, I realised that pretty much most of the really important moments in my life happened in the last week of Feb. Or rather the life changing moments.

The last week of Feb is when my son was born. Without a doubt, that was the moment I became a woman. Every year on the eve of his birthday, I write to him or about him and what I wish for him in the year ahead. He turns 14 within a few days and I'm still in awe that I brought this child into the world. That I have formed this teenager who is lovable, loved, funny, kind and sensitive and clever. My word, is he clever! And polite. He has good manners and in this world where teenagers get such a bad rap, I'm seriously proud of my CG who remains as delightful as he was since the day he was born. Oh yes, of course he is moodier by the minute (those horrible teenage hormones and emotions) and is prone to stubbornness (just cannot fathom where he got that from). But he is mine and he is amazing and I hope he continues to grow in that vein. I don't think he knows how much he is cherished and loved and adored by myself and his maternal grandparents. But again, that's not really something you know when you're a teen. You know it when you are a toddler and when you are an adult but I remember being 14 myself and raging at the world and thinking I was so unlovable. But yet, I was the most loved child.

It's fairly well established that I am the Memory. That I remember quite a lot others have forgotten. And on this day 23 years ago and about this time (give or take an hour and much time travel between the hemispheres) I was on a train becoming best friends with N. Now as a young girl, you swapped best friends weekly. I flitted from group to group and had a core that I counted as my best friends. N is different. On the 24 Feb we became 13 13. 23 years later and she's still the woman I turn to, when no one else understands what's happening in my head completely. I know she will not judge, I know she will be honest and I know she'll listen. I have shared every part of my life with her....there is no secret this woman does not know. I could write quite a bit about our bond. And I find it very fitting that we took that train journey on this night in 1989, in that week which changed my life. Maybe the Universe chose that week for me - to meet two people that would form who I am. And then the same week to have my son, another person who forms who I am now.The thread that runs through my life per se. I'm not sure why, I'm not sure if it even matters but I can remember more about that week, the feelings I was feeling, the clothes I was wearing, the conversations I had down to the last word, than I can about most things I've experienced.
There's no doubt this is a very special week for me whatever year it is... I was due to be born this week but I wasn't (I waited just another week - YES! It's my birthday soon!). And it's a good week, a great week, my week.
And people say I hark to the past.. it's not a bad thing. I grow from my past. I don't wish I was back there - not at all, but I can sit here and think tonight 23 years ago, I danced to the Coca Cola song in a room full of people, when it felt like there was just two of us. I watched the Lost Boys but only for a little bit. I ran for a train with my N at 10.05pm and we shared a meeting of the souls hanging out the window, and I stayed up all night talking of boys and mischief and making toasted cheese. I can remember that and I can smile and be happy that I found two people that understood my soul. Some people wait a lifetime for that kind of meeting.

Yes, this is rather sentimental and possibly puke inducing. That's the kind of mood I'm in.

Incidents of me

Back when Facebook didn't exist, I used to be a member of an online expat forum and quite often used to post my blonde moments. As it turns out I was a regular poster. *grin*

I kind of wish I had kept drafts of those posts as a reminder of things not to do. And because they were amusing. I don't think I can remember half of them. The incident with a glitter bath bomb is one that sticks in my head - note: NEVER use one of those bombs the day before your yearly lady appointment.

Anyway, I've put one such incident on facebook and since it's such an 'epic fail' (in the words of the youth), I thought I'd edit it and share it here. It was written 20 September 2009. Here goes: *quick edit - I have NEVER used that brand again - in fact I wasn't the first nor last to do it and the opening mechanism has been change. Secondly, I ended up losing 0.04% of sight in that eye*

My bathroom and I have a love/hate affair. I love it and it hates me. It's come to this situation where I almost fear to run a bath, wondering what it store has in for me next. And I don't understand it at all, since all I do is buy it pretty stuff!

For those that have read my bathroom 'issues' before, believe me when I say this new one just goes straight into the charts at number one.

So we've had the overflowing bubbles, we've had the bath bomb that glittered me from head to toe before the visit to the doctor (EVERYTHING was glittery - I really dressed up for that visit!) and now we have the case of the errant Shower & Shave.

I decided on Tuesday night, that I needed a late night bath and decided to crack open a new bottle of shower gel - Shower & Shave Imperial Leather...I don't think the flavour is important but it was the Jasmine and Nightflower one in case anyone is interested (it had some such stupid name).

I've opened plenty of these things before, I have the whole range (I HAD the whole range, they are now at my parents) so I barely looked at the thing. Well, actually I did look at the thing, that bit will become clear! So I looked at it, tried to open it and the stupid idiotic S&Shave squirted with HUGE pressure right into my eye socket.

It was like I had a Great White in the bath with me - or maybe I was the Great White? Whatever, I thrashed and screamed and shouted and cried in absolute agony. My 11 year old slept through the ordeal btw, giving me knowledge that should I ever fall down the stairs and break many bones, he'll be as good as a chocolate teapot. I rubbed the eye, I splashed it - got a nice foam up. ;o) And still I was bawling like a newborn. I crawled out the bath, taps on cold and rinsed eye for the next 5 hours - bad move - that just did more damage. Btw, I was sobbing throughout this and STILL, the 11 year old was having sweet dreams! lol

The next day looking like I'd been punched in the face with a big fat bottle of shower gel, I ended up in A&E and the eye clinic for near enough 7 hours!! Prognosis is that the swelling will go down (as it has - I no longer look like I've had a stroke), but it will take a while to get full sight back - if ever.

This is not something I recommend out of all my bath drama's (the glitter bomb I actually do recommend for that special night - not the next day gynae visit) - the saline wash out with a mini-hose is not fun and best left to those with a love for torture.

I was thinking that I should just stay indoors for the rest of the year (one broken limb, one broken eye gives me a good enough reason) but then I'm scared the bathroom will just have more time to be evil!

5 days after the event, I'm okay to laugh at this now.

Attack of the grumps

It must be because it's January?

Everyone says that at least once in this month. They blame a month for all sorts of things... oh yes because it's January.

But it works, everyone nods their collective heads and says very sagely 'ah yes, it's January'. As if this month, this poor defenceless month, can be blamed for our wallets being empty, our clothes not fitting and our tempers fraying.

When in actual fact, it's all our own fault. Our wallets are empty because we overspent at Christmas (an easy thing to do), our clothes don't fit because we ate FAR too much and the exercise plan went skids up. And our tempers are fraying because of the prior sentence. The monthists among us will surely cry, 'I always knew December had a hand in this'.  However, it's not fair to blame our woes on a month. You have to question if it's ever fair to blame anything on something when your hand has influenced the very woe you're grumping over.

And I'm not without blame here. I dread February in the Northern Hemisphere. It's the coldest month and it's the month where I'm generally broke. But I think this year, this year, I'll be different.

All through 2011, I was thinking about how change is something that cries out to be taken notice of. 2012, I would like to think I would do it. This last weekend, I've been almost shouted at by the Universe. I can hear it banging at my head. The trouble being, if I do all the things that I'm thinking I should, I don't think I'm going to be very much liked. I said that I wanted 2012 to be about me saying NO to bad behaviour and people making poor excuses for their bad behaviour. And for the most part of this month, that's exactly what I've done. But there are one or two people who I routinely excuse. And it's not fair really on the people I don't excuse.

Sadness

Today I heard a cat get run over, I saw it's last moments played out before me and I sobbed like it was my very own kitty. I could barely face it.

I was sitting in the car, waiting for JG and CG. I looked down the path and saw a cat shoot up towards my parked car and then bump! as the car coming down the road (not speeding) hit it. I looked out my driver window and saw the cat in it's last throes.

I honestly did not know what to do, I froze with my hands to my face. Any other person would have been out the car in a flash, trying to administer first aid. Me, I just turned into those girls I don't like, all the shrieking 'oh no no no oh no oh no'. I clambered over the gears and into the passenger side and saw my dad coming up the path. I reverted to about 5 years of age 'Daddy, daddy, the cat the cat'. While sobbing. Still, a bit of the mother resided in me as I sent CG away back down the path. The woman who was in the other car was just as frantic as I - and we clung to each other like it was a beloved pet of ours.

The cat died. My dad dealt with it all.

And now some hours later, I'm still left with this sick feeling. The cat was feral so it won't be missed, which is sad in itself. That no one will cry for it (bar myself and the other lady).

But why was I so useless? I'm the mother of a teenager, I've dealt with many an accident involving CG, blood, stitches and visits to A&E and I've coped admirably. But when it comes to animals, I turn into an incapable mess. I hark back to when Fluffy the rabbit met his Maker. I was inconsolable for days. Winnie the parakeet. I held him in my hands until he died and was hysterical on the phone to the vet, so much so that I thought I'd end up getting a shot. Tyson the Russian hamster (he bit everyone hence the name) - I ran to my parents with cage in one hand, a three month old CG in the other, screaming that Tyson had popped his clogs.
It's really no surprise that people are amazed CG has made it to 13. But clearly, it's just animals that I fall apart at the seams over. When Mom had her stroke, I went into a very capable mode. When Dad's knee went disgusting, I turned into Florence Nightingale. And when CG swallowed his marble and choked on it, I did everything it tells you to in the first aid courses.

Anyway, poor kitty who ran out of lives today. No collar, no name, but remembered in my heart.
R.I.P