It’s Go Time!

July 4, 2016July 11, 2016Leave a comment

Today is the day, the wedding day! I can hear bells ringing in the distance – probably the alarm bells for the railway boom gates, but anyway – to herald this joyous day, hooray! I woke up concerned that we were running late, but for what? Husband is officiating the wedding, sure, but after trimming the no man’s land between neck and beard, he’s ready to go, and me, I’m just a tearful spectator and my dress doesn’t even need to be ironed.
What was I doing on this day a decade or thereabouts ago? Husband and I said good-bye the previous day and I went to get my hair dyed. On the morning of I didn’t even shave my legs, I was too busy playing dress-ups in my veil and sipping champagne with my bitches before the hair and make-up people arrived.

The weather on our wedding day was perfect – much as it is today – and we even have a photo of a literal ray of sunshine beaming down on the wedding party when we were doing the official business – no, that business came later. And yes, we did our official business in my wedding dress, that is the most official business of all.
All I can do today – besides not overload my waterproof mascara – is hope that the happy couple have time for themselves to savor, because on a day that is meant to be about the two people in the center of it, it rarely is, and we must make time for official business whenever we can.

Welcome Back Bitch!

July 3, 2016July 4, 2016Leave a comment

Husband and I have flown into SanFran for a wedding sans kids (my parents are in town) and we are hob-knobbing at the groom’s parents house. We often see these friends annually on holidays but we haven’t visited this house for ten plus years and that first/last occasion is burned into my brain for not the best reason…
Husband proposed to me and then a few months later we flew into the US for his cousin’s wedding in TX and we also did a drive from SanFran to Oregon and planned our future lives during the drive. Anyhoo, on our last day at our friends’ house we had nothing doing before we left and so Husband showed me the lovely backyard. Bear in mind that I had been on the rag that week. Oh yeah, it’s one of those stories. I couldn’t find my bag to take with me so I forgot it to go and see the lovely yard. And the yard was lovely – blooming, fragrant, paved in part, private, the list of adjectives goes on. And there, in the middle of that pretty space, was my bag, with the remainder of the box of tampons, all over the ground. They were bitten, blown around, and generally LITTERING THE WHOLE GODDAMN YARD. The dog, the fucking dog, couldn’t get enough of me and so she had at some point, snuck into our room and stolen my bag to get a noseful before I walked out of her life forever, unbeknownst to her that I would eventually return. I was mortified to discover that picturesque blending of menstrual cotton and flagstone A) at all, B) in front of my newly-minted fiancé and C) thankfully – SO THANKFULLY – not in the company of our hosts. OMFG.
And so here we are, today. I was forced to face the scene of that particular crime against me and the yard wasn’t as verdant as I recall, but the dog looked just as guilty, but maybe her head was down because she was attempting to sniff me out, bitch!

Just Say No

June 29, 2016Leave a comment

Don’t do it. Don’t get married and don’t have kids. Stay young and beautiful and naive and do what you want and don’t get grey hair and tired.

Disclaimer: reading a book about cheating husbands whilst stuck in a broken down bus on the side of I5 with kids who won’t shut the fuck up or leave each other alone.

Je Suis Desolate

June 15, 2016June 16, 20161 Comment

So this trip will be quite different from my last and especially the beginning – because there are no bicep curls this time! I have a hat box full of hats rather than books (I only brought one book with me and it’s paperback!) and my case is a rolling dream,

rather than stunning and heavy AF vintage. Also, the flight is in the a.m. and is with Husband rather than my own self.

Husband and I are heading to Quebec for our 10th wedding anniversary (April) while my parents are in town, so we know the boys are in good hands. They will be clean and ready for action when we get back on the weekend.
(It’s currently 7.15 and Husband just suggested I grab a glass of champagne if you’re wondering how this is going to go)
Husband gave up his upgrade to stay with me at the back of the plane. He definitely loves me. He was rewsrded with a beer from the guy who got his 1st class seat.
We watched Deadpool on the first flight in tandem, pausing the ads so we could be in sync, it was super romantic. Afterwards when Husband took a nap, I refrained from jamming my fingers into his mouth, because I love him, too.
Later, I started reading a new book because I’m midway through The Fireman and it’s too heavy to bring as baggage if I finish it in a day; Husband was reading a draft of my novel and he’s enjoying it thus far. Maybe that’s because I named one of the characters after him or because he liked the sex scenes, maybe both of the above.

We finally arrived! Going to print off some phrases and then voila!

Sunday Morning

June 5, 2016June 5, 2016Leave a comment

So easy – I’m hankering for summer holidays. Just a week and a bit to go. I can’t wait for sleeping in and episodes of The Lord Of The Flies in the backyard. We have a few weekend trips planned over the next few months but nothing on the scale of #scotland or fucking #italy, and so backyard shenanigans are practically guaranteed. We do have a wedding in San Francisco – fingers crossed for positive shenanigans only.

Shenanigans aside, our summer is going to be the shit. This time last year, however, I had lots of fun things planned whereas this year I have precisely dick planned. I’m expecting similar results, though. Maybe I’ll think up themed day activities, rather than weeks.
We certainly aren’t having successful gardening camp this year – I’ve used up all my time writing rather than weeding or seeding or mowing or plowing or anything, so it might be a jungle camp if anything. The grass is literally as high as 7yo in places.
We could give the hideout another going over, and possibly the “paths” on the hill, but it might just be dragging the kids around to the gym and then bike riding and then who knows what else every other day during those deliciously hot weeks.
I’m trying not to think aloud about these things because Husband merely points out opportunities for finishing things I started many moons ago that I may or may not be interested in continuing. He might term such a thing Flotsam and Jetsam Camp. While he would no doubt love it, I’m not sure the kids would be as enthusiastic. Planned activities would include clearing paperwork from various surfaces, a good amount of shredding said paperwork, weeding, deconstructing the backyard fort, planting seedlings and weedlings in various states of rooting that have languished on the bathroom window sill for I’m not going to mention how long, updating the chicken accommodations, and opening cans of whoop-ass on the encroaching blackberries. At the very least, all of the above might very well improve the curb appeal of the house and Husband LOVES watching things change on Zillow. Maybe there would be an econonics camp in there somewhere, too.

The Handbag Monologues

June 1, 2016June 1, 2016Leave a comment

Ways Handbags Are Like Vaginas:
In your 20s, your vag is young and fresh, and associating not at all or occasionally with whatever is cute at the time. Your bag is small or even tiny, and is so exclusive that only half of what you want to take will fit inside at any given time. It is clean and the zip works properly.
In your 30s, you are not so young, or so fresh because of the use and abuse of the previous decade. You probably have kids and so, your vag is merely the exit ramp for the fruits of your husband’s loins. Your vag needs maintenance, and often an audience is involved. Your handbag also has quite a few similarities that you might not be happy about: it’s bigger, it’s heavier, there are leavings from children, it has stuff on the bottom of it that you don’t know what it is, you worry that your husband can’t find what either of you needs inside it. The zip is broken, the strap a little frayed, and the whole thing is faded even though it’s not really that old because your husband bought it for you just before the baby was born.
Heading towards your 40s, there are less kid leavings, if any, in your vag as well as your bag, and you might be friends with your gyno because you visit less often for a gloved inspection, you hopefully get more !hello! and less child-related hullabaloo when it’s supposed to be bedtime. Your handbag might also have shrunk, with only a few things inside and not many things for the kids because they are old enough to carry their own junk if they can for one minute leave their junk alone. Your handbag might even be a bit cheeky again like your younger self.
I can’t think beyond 40s because right now I’m sticking with my super cute striped Betsy Johnson, and I’m not telling what’s inside.

Joe hill

May 28, 2016May 31, 2016Leave a comment

So I had my first up close and personal celebrity experience this weekend – a bookstore event with Joe Hill! He read from his new book, answered questions and engaged everyone in a sing along before signing books.
The staff set up everyone in an ordely fashion for the signing so he could personalize a message. What could I possibly ask him to write? I could think of nothing witty and he ended up resorting to a standard three word sentence that was actually only two words. He handed me the book and we looked at each other. We both said a variation of “thanks a bunch” and then I left. What was I supposed to say or do? He’s heard it all, I’d expect, and I was too star-struck and excited to spit out anything original.
We saw Sandra Bullock at Disneyland last year, she was over there with her squad and probably trying to avoid a toddler meltdown like the rest of us. So I know celebs are just regular joes like everyone else, but I’d like to be able to say something kick ass next time instead of biting my tongue.
At the time, obviously, everyone there was pretty dang excited and I wondered how excited the bookstore lady was since she was wearing cool stockings that looked like lace-up boots to mid-thigh with a cute red mini skirt, plus an off-the-shoulder shirt complete with fashionably visible black bra strap. Maybe she wears that to work everyday because she’s a sexy book nerd and she works in Portland so, whatevs, but I’m not going to assume that there’s not some after party on a book tour where the groupies line up, because hello, book nerds unite and mighty pens and swords and all that. Anyway.
I finished the day with a short tour of the local fire station with a friend who apparently “doesnt work with any hot firemen” which is bullshit. It was a suitable finish to the day.
Phew! Is it hot in here?

Working for the Man

May 19, 2016May 31, 20161 Comment

5yo starts kindergarten in September and so it will be daytime soap operas and martinis for me, or will it? Maybe I end up getting a job. It wouldn’t be the end of the world but it’s hard to imagine working for the man when I’m still working for my men right now.
My kids have ruined me and now I can’t imagine working for a boss that’s not myself, or someone who isn’t necessarily much shorter and younger than me spouting ‘tude and asking for a smack on the butt without challenging me on sexually appropriate behaviour in the workplace.
What would happen if I did stuff in an office – which is where I used to work – like what goes on at home?
? Swearing under my breath – someone would hear it and understand it and I’d get in trouble.
? Not doing jobs – laundry and etc piling up – I resent getting interrupted to have to do chores and I’m not sure I make that work in a situation where I’m getting paid in more than hugs and kisses and Darwinian satisfaction without having to actual work.
? Staying up late to be adulting rather than parenting, I’d be tired at work just like I am now, except that whole getting paid in more than thing again.
? Googling personal shit instead of what I’m really supposed to be doing. I’m pretty sure it’s harder to do when not reclining with phone in hand on a couch.
? Turning up late and letting coworkers to take care of their own shit, eg boys getting dressed and breakfasted and occupying themselves while I sleep in. Actually that sounds like a promotion and a payrise. Maybe getting out on the workplace won’t be so bad after all.

Positions of Or-thora-tie

May 18, 2016June 5, 2016Leave a comment

As a coincidence, we randomly watched Southpark the other night because we couldn’t find the remote and it was the episode when Officer Barbrady declared himself illiterate and Cartman went all Eric Estrada on everyone and couldn’t handle anyone challenging his authority.

I wish I had taken a selfie with my ride-along officer and the Estrada poster in the police station but I thought they’d tell me to piss off, so that opportunity went begging. It might also have left through the front door whilst giving me the finger because I was too much of a pussy, but anyway.
What is it about men in uniform? I’ve read one or two articles and “researched” a bunch of pictures and I can confirm that uniforms are a thing. Anecdotally, Husband has been mortified when I’ve almost given myself whiplash due to “firemen” doing whatevers, not even doing anything dangerous in skimpy outfits after a massive workout, and then my friend gave me a protracted tour of her firestation. I’ve toured firestations before so it certainly wasn’t the idea of hoses and ladders that peaked my interest. There definitely might be a follow-up visit to the police station, at some stage!

Viz a Viz

May 16, 2016May 16, 2016Leave a comment

Drinking.
Boozehound or parent of young children? Professional juice head or survivor of the trenches of parenthood? We may never know.
Actually, I have to presume that a professional would have hidden the evidence of their adventures a little better than this…