Career Move

The man at the job centre today asked what sort of job I did and when I said "acting, mainly children's theatre" he asked if I'd considered doing adult acting. I asked if he meant porn and he went really red. He then tried to backtrack. I told him they were his words and that 'adult acting' in anyone's world is porn and that no, my boyfriend was oddly frigid about the idea. I also asked if the conversation was being recorded and he replied that he hoped not and please could I not tell anyone the job centre had recommended I try porn as a career move. The whole exchange was not more than 5 minutes but 5 enjoyable minutes. I hope he feels the same.

Loo Roll Tubes

About 6 months ago Mr A said "Are you keeping all these loo roll tubes for a reason or are you really just that lazy that you can't be bothered to put them in the bin?" There were 4. I am unsure as to how quickly we go through loo rolls but even with our matching bowel problems 4 would take 3-4 weeks. This means he has been testing me.

I hate it when he does these tests because I always fail. I am hugely unobservant and my mind works in a different way to his tidy perfect mind. Mine doesn't work. My eyes don't see and my mind doesn't know. Its broken. There is probably an actual bit missing in my brain. Part of the leftal lobe I reckon. I could prove this to him with a series of brain scans and diagrams but it seems an extraordinary expense when I KNOW it is missing. He will occasionally say "Are you ever going to empty the bathroom bin its been like that for a fortnight/month/year?" or worse, he does it and I can see in his eyes he has been waiting for me to do it for ages. I would really rather he just emptied it or asked me to empty it the day he noticed saving my guilt. I never learn or see or know and my mind still doesn't work, I just feel bad for a fair proportion of time.

Anyway, I didn't like the presumption that because perhaps I am sometimes absent-minded this automatically means lazy, so on this day I had no guilt and answered with "Of course I'm not being lazy. I need them. I'm going to make something with them. Its this project thing that I'm doing so yes, thank you, I do need them but perhaps you're right, they don't need to live in the bathroom." Suitable vague, not too much waffling and phew, got away with that... he accepted this no qualms and now also saves all loo roll tubes.

Fast forward 6 months and I have 22 loo roll tubes. In a bag. I also have 2 kitchen roll tubes. I figured that if I one day will have to make something majestic out of them I may as well have an array of sizes. I no longer believe its a ruse as I will make something. I fully plan to. It would be a waste to collect so many and not use them. I just need to work out what for. Perhaps it could just be what I collect. Some people collect stamps, figurines or thimbles. I could have a collection of loo roll tubes. Or perhaps I could turn them into wedding favours? Or put string through them and have the worlds longest necklace for a giant? Or make shoes for sheep? We could strengthen them and build an extension. We could be on Grand Designs. Kevin McCloud would love that. The disdain in his voice would be priceless. "What gave you the idea of a building made entirely of toilet roll tubes?" then he could do the sciencey bit of how it is actually very clever but would take most normal people a lifetime to collect so many.


I just need more. And to stop being tested. I dread to think what I will come up with as an excuse next. It could be far worse.

Turf War

I cut the grass.

I am not a student and have lived away from the bosom of my mother for 9 years however I only accrued a garden within the last 1 hence grass cutting is news. Putting washing out on the line has been a novelty until now and successful location of the lawn mower along with negotiation of knee-high grass has resulted in a shaven garden.

As I was slicing up the meadow I noticed an awful lot of creatures running away. Some of them were quite big and probably if we hadn't let the grass get so long it would not have curated such a hubbub of wildlife with quite so many habitats. I feel like we cultivated them in order to massacre them. A bit like Willy Wonka and the oompa loompas. We didn't. Not on purpose anyway. Although it does go to show laziness costs lives. I damaged several ladybird homes, beetle houses and spider colonies. I am stating that with no pride or other emotion, it is fact. Like bean juice is creepy and its pronounced scone.

I cannot imagine a vegan/vegetarian type being happy with the desolation left in the garden. Hundreds of species homeless and thousands slaughtered. I suspect the survivors are currently sleeping in the local church hall (situated under the hedge) in donated sleeping bags with friendly do-gooders, probably the caterpillars, providing food. And probably the sleeping bags, using their pupas. The ladybirds worrying and wittering about, the ants rounding up the woodlice for a counter attack and the bees unsure as to how they got involved as they could have flown away if they weren't so bumbley. Note the wasps were wily enough to get out.

I imagine grass cutting is akin to leg-shaving, if you do it everyday it doesn't take long, never really needs doing and doesn't leave innocent creatures dead or homeless. Perhaps that's what vegans and vegetarians do.

In other news the sole has fallen out of my slipper. I wonder if to a shoe their sole is their soul and vice versa. In which case I have a soulless left slipper. No coincidence its on the left. I hope it doesn't try to take me over like the Green Goblin did to Harry's Dad and I start maliciously kicking things. I should get rid of the slipper but in my risk-taking way I think I won't.

Charlotte Cooper: Spider Warrior

Spider count in the last week: 3
Spider removal in the last week: 3

I am SUCH a spider warrior. I have decided I have had enough of being terrorised by spiders. And no I don't think that's an exaggeration. And yes I do think they do this on purpose. (Please see earlier posts for the whole Spiders-Hate-Charlotte story).

I came back from a run and there was one nonchalantly sitting* on the kitchen floor looking at the washing machine and it wasn't even on. Rude. I chased him out all the way to the door with a leaflet and then forced him to climb aboard said leaflet and be launched into the garden. Spider 1.

The second spider was a skinny-legged biggy (technical term) who had not only broken and entered but then hidden out in the bathroom and more specifically in the bath tub. Double rude. Do you see me going to his house and helping myself to the bath? No, no you do not and why? Because I wasn't dragged up. Dirty scally spider. This made it morally easy to wash him away but he had such long legs he resisted. I was forced to resort to the Cillit Bang and in the words of Barry Scott, everyone's favourite shouty man (after Brian Blessed and before the man on the window advert) BANG and the spider was gone. Spider 2.

The third was dark brown, had a figure of 8 body and sinister markings on his back. By sinister I don't mean a pirate flag, clown or swastika I mean appropriately sinister for a spider. I considered the Cillit Bang but didn't think the hall wall would take it as well as the bath. I considered it anyway as technically it is Mr A's fault as he wasn't here to deal with the spider so would have to deal with the consequences. And then I did the bravest thing I have ever done. Putting the A in adult, I got a glass and a piece of paper. Spider 3.


I will now join the ranks of people with a (punctuational. Don't get toilet humour on me. It's medical.) colon in their name.


Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
Do-Do Do-Do Do: Inspector Gadget
Charlotte Cooper: Spider Warrior




*Can spiders sit or are they on their feet all the time? Maybe that's why they have 8 legs to spread the load of constant standing. What about the ones with knees? Surely they can sit. Spider knees can't just be aesthetic. Although I do very much dislike the ones with knees almost as much as the ones with a figure of 8 body and the ones that look like they've got sand on their legs. So perhaps spider knees are a deterrent. It works. Much like a pirate flag, clown or swastika. Although unlike these things. It only works in situ. I am not wary of spider knees detached from spiders.

WIlls

I survived the WI. I think that’s a fridge magnet along with I’m not fat I’m short for my weight and I only have a kitchen because it came with the house. Usually the same person has these 2 on the fridge which makes no sense to me. If you actually didn’t use or enter the kitchen

A - surely you wouldn’t be fat

2 - who put the magnet on the fridge?

Unless you have a fridge in your room. Or carry a cool box with you everywhere. In which case it should say: I am fat yet I don’t use the kitchen (I carry a cool box from which I get my sustenance). I think it’ll be a big seller. If ‘Keep Calm and do something inane’ sells so prolifically, anything will.

Anyway, the WI. I enjoyed it. It was nice to be part of something community based. I’ve always been a bit of a nomad not especially belonging anywhere and in this new phase of life I feel like I could belong if I wanted. There was one older lady who was not enjoying the fact we were so young. She didn’t feel she had to hide this either. I inadvertently volunteered to bake the cake/biscuit/snack for next month’s meeting and she came and had a talk with me to ensure I knew what I was doing. I assured her I was quite the baker and all would be fine but she said just to make one as the committee will always make one too ie mine will be crap but don’t worry as there’ll be a nice one there too. Next month we are talking about wills. I think I am going to pretend I misheard and make willy shaped biscuits and bring willy straws et al. I am debating how funny this would actually be. As long as there’s a 60% margin of laughter I think its worth it. The look on her face would make my life and I’m not yet a member so it could make and end my short but sweet WI life. I’m not sure I’m WI material anyway… unless I can add lly to everything that says WI.

WImp

I am going to my first WI meeting tonight. I am not entirely sure how I feel about it. I know it’s a trendy thing to do and I’m looking forward to meeting ladies of the community but it will surely be where all the beautiful young things hang out showing off the wide array of skills they have accumulated on top of being beautiful, having perfect children, rugged husbands, sprawling mansions and wearing flawless dresses. I realise my WI views are based on the 1950s.

I am not sure I have any of those 5 things. Well, Mr A is rugged. In fact he puts the caveman UG in rugged but I think he is too rugged to impress at the WI. Over-rugged for this purpose. I don’t have a sprawling mansion or perfect children nor am I beautiful and I don’t think Matalan makes flawless dresses. I like to think that’s their charm. Along with the price. And child suffering.

My real concern is if there is a woman test I am not sure if I will pass. I am not the womanliest woman. I make lots of smells and find it funny. Still. Increasingly if anything. On awaking this morning I did a burp that sounded like a goat noise. It was brilliant and made me want to tell all but I don’t think that will make the women of the WI embrace me. Also I find the word fanny amusing and one of best things I ever did with my step-children was to get them to read aloud this list without laughing: bogey face, poo head, bum bum, willy, snot, wee wee, dinkle, boobies, plop. An excellent piece of step-parenting but not very WI.

My saving grace is my womanly curves. I think the best thing to do is to wear something tight so as to show them off and to keep my bodily functions under wraps. Much like going on a date. In fact I will treat it exactly like that right down to not sleeping with them. Tonight at least.

In other news I fought with 2 spiders today. (Not simultaneously, are you an actual mental?) I won. They no longer reside in this house. In your faces spider community not on my face for once, this girl just got spider brave.

Biscuit count: 2 and just to dip in tea. My, what a grown-up. Now that might impress the WI…

NB. nobody got further than bum bum. Myself included. We’re only human.

Cookies and Scream

So, here I am, blogging myself off again. I would like to say it is pure coincidence that once more I am between jobs and eating too many biscuits so have turned to blogging, but that would be an untruth and also mean I have nothing to blog about. Other than the biscuits its been a pretty slow-news day. Why start blogging now then? I hear you cry in your thousands, ‘please spare us, not more biscuit related tales’. But I’m the boss of this joint and if I am feeling the nauseous side-effects of my compulsion to eat yet more biscuits (also known as unemployment) then gosh darn it so will you.

12. 12 is my guesstimate of the amount of cookies consumed in the last 50 minutes.I am not counting the 6 rich teas. They are practically a cracker and thereby, lunch.

Another activity I have done today (this is a good one, fellow un-employed take note) I just went to get a cookie (I don’t keep them next to me that would be chocolate chip based carnage) and realised the microwave and 2 drawers were open. It took a lovely almost-minute to close them before rewarding myself for a job well done with a cookie. Not closing cupboards and drawers fully gives me a task to do later!

Something else I love in my life at the moment is radio 4 on iplayer and my pick of the week The Cazalets. I do love a story. Especially one with posh voices and that.

Cookie Count: 15. I’m slowing down. Maybe there won’t be sick today. OR even that noise you make when you’ve eaten too much. Guttural, feral almost and sad. Not today cookies, NOT today. 

Being Old

I can’t believe I am at the age where being ‘old’ could be insulting. I have been trying to be old my whole life and now I’m finally starting to achieve it, its an insult.

Having done a life expectancy calculator online (which I am almost sure is 100% accurate), I will be living until I am 105. Which means I have 77years left. I am 1.75 years over a quarter of the way through. That is actually 24 and a half years until I am half way. Which is almost my whole life again and that’s only half way.

So why the *hell* are people perpetuating that I am old?

I am not even wrinkly. Although my rear is starting to take over a larger portion of me. My hips now seem to start at my waist. Which is definitely an age thing. I am pretty sure that happened at 26.25 years which was my ¼ way point, I think it’s fair enough that my body should change shape for the next ¼. If anything it’s commendable. The next quarter involves children in which case I am happy that my hips are becoming more suitable for bearing said child/ren. Its thoroughly practical and what girl wouldn’t want to be told she has a practical body?

I am proud of having been around for 28.25 years. I am far more interesting now than I have ever been. I’m a lot more bolshy, a touch more cantankerous, increasingly opinionated and incensed at the news/reporting thereof. I hope there are more changes to report as I grow into my 30s, 40, 50s and 60s aside from my increasing mass and opinions.

In the meantime, I will continue trying to be old safe in the knowledge that even if I stop trying, it's an achievable goal but not for another 50.75 years.

Spider Incident

Spider Log. Stardate: 21092012.

Todays spider incident, in totality, is minor and the spider small but despite size of said spider and trauma level of said incident, it left me feeling cold.

As I closed the front door he was there, up-stage centre slowly moving down (towards my face – obviously. See earlier posts) The reason for his slow descent was because he only had 3 legs plus a stumpy one. Meaning he would be a T43 in the Paralympics. (Although this remains unconfirmed as classification is based upon the presumption the subject species would ordinarily have 2 legs).

The conclusion I have drawn from this is not that he is a poor outcast from both human and spider worlds (spider society being well-known for its harsh approach towards its less able members of society) inhabiting that strange place between, revered and shunned by those who should take pity. No. My conclusion is that he is a bad-ass fighter spider. That despite his size and appearance he is one of the deadliest, meanest and most underhand arachnids you will ever have the misfortune of meeting. He lost each of his legs in a battle to the death, he left one limb down but the others (dramatic pause) were left for DEAD. Dead bad dead.

And he lives on my front door. Brilliant. My ass is grass. (and he is the lawnmower).

Bad grammar in songs

Example has just released a song where the chorus goes ‘You don’t have to say nothing’ over and over. The premise is that the girl doesn’t need to use any words as her eyes are doing the talking. Fine. As a song storyline. Fine. But by using the double negative it makes no sense. At all. This grates on me each time I hear it and he doesn’t seem to know he’s doing anything wrong. Its making me itchy just thinking about it.

The worst of it is that he’s called Example yet he is far from it.