Remember, remember…

Ooo, Bonfire Night! 

I love fireworks and really enjoy the atmosphere on Bonfire Night.  As the 5th is Monday, most people have been having their displays this weekend, though fireworks have been going off at random intervals for a good couple of weeks now.

My city’s main display is tonight.  I’m lucky that I can see the display from my flat, as I’m on call for work tonight and would never be able to hear the phone if I went down there.  So I’m sitting here, in the warm, watching the fireworks (very pretty this year!) and writing this.

I got my share of Bonfire Night atmosphere last night.  Mr Flirt had a party at his house last night to celebrate Bonfire Night and the fact that he and his partner have been together for 15 years.

Though I arrived too late for the bonfire, I didn’t miss the fireworks.  

Mr Flirt took great pride in sorting them out and setting them off.  It was a good display, somewhat enhanced by the occasional shout of “Shit, the tree” and the odd squeal as a couple of rogue rocket’s went sideways, rather than up!

And this is the guy who has a sideline in Health and Safety training!  Though to be fair there was the constant presence of a bucket of water…

I only had one moment of opening my mouth before my brain kicked in, which as some of you know is pretty good going for me!  As I stood there with a friend’s partner (she’d headed inside for safety!) watching a couple of rockets fail to deliver on their promise and kind of pop rather than explode, I turned and commented

“They’re a bit like farts really” (I do admit to having had a few by then). 

Silence.  Followed by laughter and the question “So, do all of your farts involve multi-coloured sparks?”.

Only with the hotter curries!

Delete, delete, delete!

I think I’ve told you before that I love technology and all that it can do, but that I am aware of the down side to it as well. One of the main downsides is that unless you remember to delete things you don’t want people to find, there is a good chance that someone will discover it!

Best Friend has a new mobile phone. It was given to her by another friend, who had just upgraded to a shiny new one.

The friend who gave it to her is quiet and has a certain ‘good girl’ image. She’s not. And we now have proof.

It is important to remember that if you give a friend your old mobile, removing the sim card is not enough. You need to check what has been saved on the phone itself.

And delete anything before you hand it over.

Best Friend was playing with her new toy, figuring out how it worked, when I suddenly heard a gasp and then hysterical laughter.

She handed the phone to me.

There was a message from Quiet Friend’s boyfriend. It was a picture of him in a state of…um, excitement and the (completely unnecessary) information that he was horny and waiting for her.

Best Friend doesn’t feel that she’s going to be able to look at her (or him!) in the eye with a straight face for quite a while! I think she has some excellent blackmail fodder…

What not to tell your parents

Parents and hangovers don’t mix. Especially if you already have a terrible habit of opening your mouth before engaging your brain.

I’m afraid I have traumatised my parents and I’m not entirely sure they will recover from the shock.

My parents visited me on Sunday and took me out to lunch. I’m sure you’re all thinking that sounds lovely and a nice way to spend a Sunday. And it would have been, if I hadn’t have been about to be awarded the prize for the worlds biggest hangover.

Saturday night had been spent at Best Friend’s house, celebrating another friend’s engagement. True to form, we consumed a lot of alcohol and I finally got home at stupid o’clock in the morning.

When my parents arrived, I attempted to make conversation, but was more than happy to just nod and smile whilst I was brought up to date on the village’s latest news and the developments with various people’s ailments (I don’t know these people, but apparently it is essential that I know all about their lives!).

By this stage, we were at the restaurant and I was trying to prepare my stomach for the fact that it was about to encounter solid food and convince it that it would be fine with this. My parents were asking me about what I had been up to, commenting that I seemed to be very busy. I explained that I was, but that it was ok and I had some more projects in the pipeline. As all good parents should do, they expressed an interest and asked what I was planning.

This is when it happened. I still don’t know why I said it. I can only think that my brain had gone back to sleep and had left my body to try and cope with the situation alone.

I informed my parents that I was going into business with Best Friend’s Bloke as a porn baron.

Well, more porn administrator really.

The world seemed to stop for a few moments and then reality came rushing in. All I could hear was the woosh as the entire restaurant whipped their heads round to stare at us.

Dad went an odd shade of purple, coughed slightly and then started eating as quickly as he could. I think he thought that if he carried on eating, time would reverse itself and this would never have happened.

Mum sat there with a fixed, slightly manic, smile on her face. As she reached for her drink and downed it in one, my brain made a very brief appearance, realised what was happening and fled.

The more I tried to explain, the bigger hole I dug myself. Best Friend’s Bloke works as a vision mixer on the local TV station’s porn channel. A lot of the women have asked him to develop their websites and I’ve said I’ll help him.

Of course, the more I attempted to reassure my parents, the worse I made it. Until it sounded like Best Friend’s Bloke ran a porn empire and I was his newest recruit, about to give up the day job and become Crystal Chandelier!

I gradually trailed off and we sat in silence for about a year. The silence was so great, that I could hear the man on the other side of the restaurant picking bits of food out of his teeth.

The only thing I could think to say was “So, Mum, how’s Fred and his hernia”.

Apparently Fred’s fine.

Hard hats are optional

I quite like puzzles and board games, but the problem is I’m really quite competitive.

At one point I became mildly obsessed with Sudoku and did the one in my newspaper everyday. When Student Nutty Nurse and I used to work together, we would photocopy the puzzle and then race each other to see could complete it the fastest. It was pretty much 50/50, though he will still maintain that he won more.

I also have a soft spot for Scrabble. Best Friend also likes a game, but will now only play with me if she can wear protective clothing, or at least some kind of hard hat. We used to play on a fairly regular basis but things turned ugly one day.

She disputed one of my words and I didn’t react well.

I had put down Qi and was quite pleased with myself, having managed to get it on a triple word score! (Before anyone disputes it, it is in the official Scrabble word book – I don’t want a repeat of the incident!)

Our argument became more and more heated and I’m afraid to say that it ended with me pushing the board off the table and onto the floor (yes, I am embarrassed, but I can be a stroppy cow when I want to be!).

Best Friend maintains to this day that I actually threw the board (hence the hard hat), but I’m honestly not that bad. However, it certainly wasn’t my finest hour!

I now try to stick to things like crosswords. I think it’s much safer this way.

Are you sure you meant it like that!

My aunt breeds and shows dogs. She has whippets and absolutely adores them.

I went to visit her the other day and she was telling me about her recent night out with the girls. She was telling me about one of her friends who is retired and seems perfectly happy doing nothing all day.

My aunt couldn’t understand this at all. She informed me that she didn’t see how people could be happy with that, as her other friend works full time and then they “go dogging it”.

I collapsed in hysterics and it took me a good five minutes to be in a fit state to explain why I was laughing.

As much as my aunt is very broad minded and I get a lot of my less responsible traits from her, I couldn’t imagine her and her friend going off to car parks for group sex and voyeurism!

This is the same woman who had part of her email address as ‘janwhips’ until I pointed out that it could be seen in a very different light from a combination of ‘Jan’ and ‘Whippets’!

Though saying that, maybe she is ready to reveal her secret life as a dominatrix dogger!

Educational Activities

Well, the trip to the Eco Park with Mini Adult and the others was certainly educational, but not necessarily in the way I thought it was going to be. Looking back, I think the two main lessons yesterday were How To Effectively Embarrass The Kids and How Not To Get Out Of A Pedallo.

The Eco Park was fun, somewhat educational for the kids but, as is often the case, more so for the supposed grown up’s. It was in the section all about land and farming that my first lesson took place.

There was a display of animated vegetables singing a very catchy song about how cool they were. The problem was that Best Friend and I could not resist dancing, much to Mini Adult’s and The Cool Kid’s shame. Of course, the more disapproving and embarrassed they looked, the more this encouraged us. It is lucky that neither Best Friend or I have any problem with making idiots of ourselves in public: the disapproval radiating from the kids and the realization that we had in fact attracted a much wider audience of other visitors may have stopped less hardy souls, but not us. As Mini Adult and The Cool Kid scuttled away from our foot stamping and hip shaking, we heard mutterings of “You just can’t take them anywhere” and “Let’s pretend they’re not with us”. Oh, and for those of you that know of my burlesque ambitions you will be pleased that the, much needed, improvement in my sense of rhythm has been achieved through farmyard music!

After lunch, the kids agreed to acknowledge our existence again (it’s amazing the power having the ice cream money can have!) and decided that we would all go on a pedallo. It was a lot of fun, though I was worried about the fact that I had already had about 2 years worth of exercise in a couple of weeks and that pedalling one of these things around a lake may just finish me off! Best Friend and Mini Adult had beaten me and The Cool Kid in a race and it was time to get back on dry land. This is when I had my second lesson of the day.

As The Cool Kid was on the dock side of the pedallo, she jumped out first and went to wait with the others. This left me in the situation of having to get myself over two seats and the steering column, all in a rocking bit of plastic! It did not go well. After swaying about for a few minutes and wheeling my arms around in an attempt to keep my balance, I eventually gave up and crawled across and up on to the dock on my hands and knees – not my most elegant exit at all, though everyone else seemed to find it highly amusing! Let this be a lesson for all of you, if you are not the most athletic of people and find yourself on a pedallo, then when you land make sure you are on the dock side and save yourself the indignity.

What did you say?

Have you ever been in the situation where someone has said something that has sounded so plausible, that you haven’t realised what they’ve actually said until it’s too late? Agnes Mildew’s post on Hex My Ex reminded me of a situation that happened with Mr Playmate.

This was when we used to work together. We had been off training for the day and were on the long journey home. It was much further way from where we usually train, so Mr Playmate had driven.

The sun was beginning to set and as we were driving along, Mr Playmate suddenly said to me “Look, it’s a full sun”.

Dutifully looking at the sun, I saw that it was and agreed with him.

Silence.

Cue me, five minutes later, suddenly sitting up straight and saying “But it’s always a full sun”.

Mr Playmate looked me in the eye (very dangerous when driving – don’t do it) and said “I know”.

And began to laugh.

A lot.

I can be a bit stupid sometimes about really basic things. It’s like my brain just doesn’t kick into gear. As he had said it in such a plausible manner, I didn’t pick up on what he had actually said. I should have known and been paying attention. Mr Playmate will happily trip me up where he can.

Who’s meant to be the grown up?

A while ago I went to the cinema with Mini Adult, only to find we had apparently had our own Freaky Friday moment.

We had decided to go off and have a girlie day. Part of the trip was to go and see Charlottes Web. Before it started, we dutifully chose our sweets (pick n mix – always exciting!) which turned out to be quite a complicated process with lots of debate about the merits of each sweet.

I had started to eat mine whilst we were waiting for the film to start (what can I say, I had jazzies in there!) when all of a sudden I was aware of Mini Adult looking at me in disbelief. “If you eat them all now, you won’t have any left for the film” she informed me.

I couldn’t believe it, I was meant to be the adult and the one saying things like that. I really didn’t know how to respond and before I knew it, I had apologised and was sitting there feeling a five year old, just been told off my mum! I’m sure that’s the wrong way round!

It wasn’t the only incident of role reversal that day. I had been a bit worried about Mini Adult seeing Charlottes Web and had prepared myself for a crying person and having the whole life and death conversation. That also didn’t work out – I was the one sat there crying my eyes out. Mini Adult wasn’t fazed in the slightest; as she said to me afterwards, whilst patting my hand, “It’s only a story, she didn’t really die”…

That’s one way to make an impression!

There are times when it is not safe to let me out in public, especially if you’re trying to make a good impression. A few weeks ago I was at Best Friend’s new house. She had only moved in a few days before so was trying to show the New Neighbours that they were a nice family. Best Friend should have known that there were dangers to having me over so soon.

Miss Nice As Pie and I had gone round to celebrate the new house over dinner and a few bottles. All was going well, the meal had been lovely (Best Friend’s Bloke had also joined us, which is rare but pleasurable when it happens – he makes me laugh!), the weather was nice and we were suitably celebrating Best Friends rise to House With a Garden status. We were sat in the kitchen, which leads straight out into the garden, so we were only a few feet away from the New Neighbours, who were out in their garden with their little boy – it was all very ‘suburbia’.

The evening had started quite early, I had come straight from work and we cracked open a bottle more or less as soon as we got in. Because of this, the conversation got round to sex sooner than normal. We had music on and were talking about various things when the CD ended. Unfortunately this happened just at the point to allow New Neighbours to hear the end of my sentence. All they would have heard from Best Friends house was “…anal sex”. Cue shocked silence from New Neighbours, Miss Nice As Pie rolling on the floor crying with laughter and Best Friend not sure whether to laugh or apologise.

It may have been ok until I was over there again a couple of days later. Best Friend and I had been sitting in the garden and were about to go out. As we stood up to get ready, I realised I had been sat on wet grass and now had an attractive damp patch on my jeans. As it was a nice sunny day I decided to let nature do its job and bent over, arse in the air, to let the sun work its magic. Unfortunately I hadn’t paid attention to the fact that my bum was now facing New Neighbours garden. As I glanced through my legs, all I could see was an upside down Mr New Neighbour, looking very red as he scurried back inside…

Best Friend is more than aware of this trait of mine, having been through many moments of public embarrassment with me. I’m not allowed to go to family events that include the straighter side of her family, for everyone’s safety and sanity. She normally finds it all very amusing (at my expense!), but it may have been a bit too soon to unleash me on new people!

Walk this way…

Ok, I have had yet a further sign that I am slowly losing my mind. I have agreed to take part in a 15 mile sponsored walk at the end of this month. It is for a local group that is raising money to enable people with either mental health issues or physical disabilities to access sporting facilities. As I work in mental health and are meant to advocate the benefits of things like this, I really should take part.

It’s not that I’m lazy, I’m just very specific about what kind of exercise I take part in and walking isn’t one of them, I’m more of a taxi girl. I used to belong to a gym, unfortunately that turned out to be the five most expensive gym sessions of my life until I finally got round to cancelling my membership. I love swimming and things such as rounders if I’m with friends, but walking 15 miles? I’m not sure how that’s going work out. I walk to work everyday and a few other places, but it is rarely more than a couple of miles at a time.

So far I’ve got quite a bit of sponsorship; though I have a feeling many people are sponsoring me for the entertainment value alone!! Best Friend isn’t sponsoring me but is paying me £15 for vodka and cigarettes at the end – they will definitely be needed. She is also going to be my cheerleader, having already made up a chant and will be texting me encouragement throughout the day.

Maybe I should consider doing some training. Do you think increasing the amount of times I walk to Starbucks or the off licence counts…