Sawadikaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Photo © Rotisserie of Mo 2006
I hate Acidpod. Acidpod just got my desperately wanted/needed must-have Terry De Havilland Wonder Woman shoes!! (See previous post). He/she/it must have had one of those nasty widget thingy’s that whomever the highest bidder is (me – by £35 quid over current bid showing at the time) sneaks in at the last 2 seconds with a bid £1.09 higher than my maximum leaving me no time – except for gasping in astonishment time – to hurriedly trounce the bastard. Perhaps it is a sign that I have enough highly impractical shoes and really don’t need any more. Well, of course I didn’t need them – not in the way that I don’t actually have any shoes to wear at all but I did need them in a ‘me’ way – as they were so well, me. Pah – I hope they give poohface Acidpod perpetual blisters for being such a dirty rotten cheat.
Anyway – a fine time was had by all at the 70’s disco themed party I went to last night – snacks were of the moment – guacamole and cheese/pineapple sticks and chili con carne and garlic bread (what? bread? with garlic?).
Very Abigail’s party. Me – I went as Studio 54 trash as I couldn’t really think of trying to be anything else. Here’s a really bad photo taken before I left – shame you can’t get the full trashy combo effect of side ponytail, lurex halter neck top, dreadful jewellery and gold lurex socks topped off with lashings of lipgloss and fine glittery blusher.
Rather alarmingly – apart from the sunglasses I didn’t actually have to go out and purchase anything I chose to wear. And I can’t believe I used to wear those tight leopard skin trousers to work about 11 years ago. What was I thinking of? What could I have looked like? Why didn’t anybody try to stop me? The only slightly pleasing angle on them and much to my astonishment is that I can still fit into them. The hideous circular shiny silver bubble coat-thing is a home-sewn ebay purchase of about a year ago. I was quite taken with it and bought it as a piece of tacky memorabilia. It came in very handy last night and billowed dramatically in the breeze. I’m sure my neighbour’s think I am supplementing income or raising money for the next round of school fees by tripping out as a slapper. I was praying that no one would see me as I left the house but my shoes made a bit of a racket tippy tapping down the street so goodness knows. I got a few funny looks at the traffic lights a couple of times.
I’m working very hard at the moment and thought I would ‘relax’ this evening by watching quite possibly the most dreadful ‘car crash telly’ I’ve seen since my Anna Nicole Show watching days. It was a terrible dilemma – my choice was Horizon – a quest for the ultimate cosmetic creams that actually work, Half A Ton Hospital – incredibly obese people at a fatally flawed nursing home in the US, or reliable stand-by at times like this – CSI. I probably should have stuck with CSI but instead I went for Half A Ton Hospital. All of the massively obese and very ill people’s stories were terrible and heart-rending. It took the death of a 29 year old patient and friend of 24 year old 27 stone Sequoia to do something about herself. It took a stomach staple operation for Tammy also 29 who had been raped 10 years ago and turned to comfort eating since to ‘cheat’ and keep ordering potentially fatal post-op take-out to the nursing home where she was convalescing. This really jarred for me – where’s the logic? A nursing home for morbidly clinically obese people that allows them to order gianormous artery-blocking take-outs (Tammy’s favourite being only meat, cheese and marinara sauce pizza – no vegetables please and a tub of icecream to finish off). It appears there was indeed a double logic here – ultimately the doctor who ran the hospital was running a business – one he nearly lost when they all waddled out in droves after he imposed a strict diet regime banning all junk food full stop. Rather depressingly the success rate is only 2% for obese people who lose a substantial amount of weight and manage to keep it off – that’s a shocking percentage. Heroin and alcohol addicts have a higher rate than that. My point is that the doctor who ran the nursing home was actually promoting eating not helping people get better for themselves. As if that wasn’t harrowing enough – I then segue’d nicely into Marbella Wives – er – more like Marbella Munters if you ask me. Absolutely revolting. Ugly old cow’s with disappointed gash-like mouths and much too much more money than sense. The worst culprit being Lisa who had a son who’s nappy she had only changed once – he is nearly three and is called Blue. She didn’t like it as the time she did change his nappy she ‘got shit in her new nails’. Nice. The film ended with her interviewing some poor long-suffering Filipino slave ( I mean ‘helper’) who she told most strongly that Blue (or Blaauuuw as she pronounce it) must not be allowed to hear her voice in the morning and must be kept away from the kitchen as she likes to sit and have her coffee’n’fag in the peace and quiet of a morning. She was awful.
So – I’m glad I’m me despite the fact I’m worried about the potential of developing Bloggers Midriff Syndrome due to spending an increasing amount of time on the internet. Or perhaps Bloggers Anonymous beckons? Yes that’s it – perhaps I should start up the first support group for Bloggers that just can’t leave it alone?! Here’s a picture my 5 year old did on the computer. I am so proud.
And lastly, I purchased a pair of purple spandex lycra leggings from ebay today. It’s ok – I haven’t lost my mind. I’m going to a ’70’s’ party on Friday. I bought a Cher wig too. I laughed when I opened up this picture described as ‘Size 10 Sandy from Grease-style lycra leggings’.
More like Bandy the Boiler from Birmingham! Er…not quite a size 10 I fear? Oh I’m so glad I’m me. Well I am today anyway.
UPDATE:Is it bad for me to want these original Terry De Havilland ‘Wonder Woman’ shoes?
I really think I must – I love them. Shoes and books are my weakness.
Yours Ro-Mo-Fo xxx
Wobble getting less wobbly so thought I better do another post while I’m on a roll. Now, before I forget everybody and I mean each of you must go here and write a comment pleading with Cafe Del Nightmare not to throw in the towel – it’s a great blog and would be a shame if it went into Blogroom 101 it really would. IN case anyone was wondering – the school ‘issue’ has all slided into nothing. Best way I think. Although I was looking at the school photo received today and guess who my son is standing next to grinning away happily – yes – the pencil stabber girl. So silly and dreadfully ironic. The parents will probably insist the photo is re-taken. I wouldn’t put it past them!
Anyway – not that I have enough on my plate at the moment – in fact, I think I’ve bitten off a bit more than I can chew juggling 2-3 freelance jobs at once for next few months. This weekend I’m going to have to make some sort of school type timetable for each week just so I can definitely get everything done week to week. The main job is huuuuuge and involves dealing with people from each continent – aagggh!In saying that – it is very rewarding and interesting so I need to just shut up and get on with it really. Aside from that I am contemplating being my local Blah Party representative. I thought I would adopt this as my constituency theme tune. Whaddya think guys? I LOVE it! A one. A two. A one, two, three, four…………
Sorry – I had a wobble. I woke up this morning and realised it’s National Poetry Day. Was looking for a poem I wrote when I was really young in an old notebook but I couldn’t find it – I think some of the books are packed away. I found another book from 1999. Here’s a poem from it. It has no title but is dated March 18th 1999
I went to the sea and I saw youI watched the waves and I thought of you
I smelled the froth on the waves and
Realised that you weren’t there at all
How far do you go?
How deep is your life that you hide at the bottom of the sea?
Hiding it hard under all the silt and sand
Buried, buried, buried so far and so hard
In times of strife I was taught to be a deep sea diver
Now I am searching for those hidden treasures
You think you’ve buried them so far away
But I can find them
I seek and I search to the ends of the earth to find
The buried treasure you have left for me
To find when all is lost
I’m retiring. Thank you to each and every one of you that has read, commented and listened to various podcasts – even read my boring munterspace site and generally put up with me wittering on about nothing. I might come back I don’t know. For the moment I just want to ride the stannah stairlift to nowhere. Thank you.
which has raised the bar oh ever so slightly hence the shrinking violet behaviour going on around here of late. So for those interested in the bullygate issue – a resounding silence has ensued. I have been the model parent and not resorted to bitching or gossiping or turning my son against other children – I’ve just carried on as usual and been me. Mind you in saying that – I did have one moment but I don’t think anyone saw me and even if they did I don’t care. The Monday after everything kicked off I bumped into the wife of satansbarrister – as I was coming out of the classroom she was going in. A perfunctory ‘hello’ was exchanged and then as I walked down the stairs I said ‘bitch!’ sort of under my breath but audible to those directly around me. A wonderfully satisfying impulsive moment – I quite took myself by surprise as I hadn’t planned it – it just sort of came out on my out-breath. Now, I just feel cross – I mean look at all the fuss and disruption they have caused for absolutely no reason. Quite frankly – an apology would be nice – not that I’m going to get it of course. If I was as rich as all the other people that seem to send their kids to the school I would love to sue them – how dare they! Anyway – that’s it – carry on as usual and avoid them like the plague. I’ll leave you all with the trailer for Elevator Gods as I’ve got lots of cleaning to do this morning – the house currently looks like we’ve been burgled – but we haven’t – we’ve just been really messy. I need some votes – would you like to see this on at the cinema? I hope so! Ta-ra chooks. Be good and if you can’t be good be nice. x
Currently exhausted and enfeebled. I think Bullygate has finally taken it’s toll. Going to resort to lolling on the new sofa watching crap Cagney and Lacey style telly. No doubt I’ll be back to my normal cutting self soon. Bye all. x PS: I meant cutting in the acidic humour way not in the self-harm sense just in case anyone was wondering!
So I went dressed as Toyah in her seminal Thunder In The Mountains video complete with a chariot pulled by four handsome white Shetland ponies and it all went rather well.
Actually, I’m reeling in shock from further developments. According to the teacher’s report, not only was the other child ‘difficult’ all day but the teacher witnessed her stabbing a sharp pencil into her leg under the table in class and then blaming it on another child. It’s terrible. Then she was seen chasing and repeatedly smacking my son on the bottom in the playground. Naturally, he was running away and got to the end wall where he turned, pushed her and then squished her into the wall to make her stop. Slightly different from an ‘un-provoked punch in the stomach’. Then, THEN it turns out that after school the teacher spoke to the mother when she got home to express her worry about the behaviour of their child that day and thought she might not be feeling well – El Barrista father later dialled 1471 and called the teacher back (who is ex-directory) and threatened her saying that unless she did something about the lack of care that the school showed their child then not only was he going to report her to the authorities but ‘spread it all over the national newspapers’ as well!!! That’ll obviously be The Daily Mail and The Express then? I was and still am flabbergasted. The headmistress is furious as of course this without doubt a school matter and not one that should be taken into parents hands without clear facts. So – to cut a long story short – the other girl’s parents are in big trouble and the headmistress even went as far to say that they were the bullies here – not the children. I have to say that I completely agree with her. If my child was a bully I think I would be the first to know and to do something about it. What was even worse was that when I went to pick my son up later this afternoon the mother said hello to me to which I replied walking on the move an extremely bold but curt ‘hi’. She then came and stood shoulder to shoulder with me which was really uncomfortable for both of us because I chose to ignore her. I just kept focussed on the door willing it to open so all the kids would come chattering out and save us from this hideous situation. Another mother started talking to me and then my accuser-mum kept chipping in and asking me questions to which I replied monosyllabically. I had to. Here I was standing next to someone who has indirectly been bullying ME and making the most monstrous and potentially damaging accusations against my 5 year old – and what do you do to bullies – ignore them. Anyway, the up-shot is that it is all probably going to kick off over the next few days as they have been hand-delivered a letter from the headmistress tonight. Me, I’m just being normal and getting on with it but I have to say after the last few days uncertainty and worry I feel suddenly really exhausted, like I’ve had all the life sucked out of me. An early solid night’s sleep beckons methinks. Thank you so much everyone for being so supportive and interested in these posts. I don’t normally get as uber personal as this on my blog but this time I felt I had to. Thank you thank you thank you – normal service will resume shortly. The Romo will be back in full effect before long. It takes a lot to get The Rockmother down.
Rockmother 