I’ve had a funny old Saturday so far, but I’m massively enjoying it.
My mate The Dude has come down from Newcastle for the weekend, but he has also brought his mate’s dog!
I quite like The Dude, and I quite like dogs, so this should be an ideal combination. He drove us out to Knutsford today so that we could walk through the lovely grounds of Tatton Park.
That was funny straight off because The Dude, yes I really do call him that, has no sense of style whatsoever. He would wear exactly the same thing every day given the choice, he looks a bit gothic/rock in a very 80s student kind of way. But Knutsford is one of the richest bits around Manchester and the whole town seems to be just estate agents, expensive restaurants and very very expensive kitchen shops.
The Dude noticed none of this!
He even walked past a showroom selling McLaren cars and didn’t pass comment. I’m a girl, I don’t care much about cars, and yet I still felt a shiver of excitement at being just a couple of metres away from a car that costs more than I’m likely to earn in my whole life!
The dog loved the park and it ran after its ball tirelessly for a couple of hours, including swimming for it in the lake, and even ignoring the ducks in favour of the ball. It left me thinking how much I’d like a dog and I started to ask The Dude about it, but that’s when I found out the dog is his mate’s, but that he has been looking after it for a few weeks now and has grown to like it, even though he hates having to pick up its poo.
We didn’t see these formal gardens, although we did see the house in the distance. But look at the photo and you can see the lake in the distance.
The Dude was well impressed with my love of Eminem, although I think he was hoping to get off with me so I had to put him straight – he’s a lovely guy, but he’s not what occupies my mind, or tingles my bits.Read More
Last week I spend a few days with mamma, trying not to be the arsy daughter and instead trying to absorb her wisdom. I was fed gorgeous food, as often as I wanted it, in fact I had to be forceful sometimes to stop her force feeding me great food like this.
No curry powder for mamma either, she always starts a dish with a handful of cumin and mustard seed, and then builds a dish from there.
It seems that in England the onion goes in the pan first, but at home it’s the flavour that gets everything smelling wonderful before the ingredients start to be added. I feel ashamed at the amount of burgers I eat sometimes when sitting at the table at her house.
Anyway. Something came up about the date at the weekend and I came out with some trite phrase about time flying by too fast (and cringed, I used to hate my parents saying stuff like that), but then mamma started telling about how the passing of time seems to get ever faster as your own years go by. She was saying how when you’re a child the school holidays seem to last a lifetime, but after that memory has been firmly planted to mess with your mind it just changes with every passing year, until the thought of something taking a year, or even several years to complete, no longer seems too long.
I would love to ask her mum to talk to me about the same subject.
How funny this is.
The big family getting together to celebrate Christmas, despite who we are.
It’s morning. We have had breakfast. And no one has fallen out. Yet.
Eight of us around mamma’s table. Albeit briefly so far.
Grapefruit – bitter like Sanjay’s wife (ooh, put your claws away Kristen).
Coffee – strong, fragrant, gives you a kick, as I’d hope do I.
So who will be the turkey, the beef? Well, the beef is tender on the inside, and stuffed with pate – despite the hell he gives me, I think that could be Sanjay. The turkey could definitely be one of the other boys.
Trifle just has to be mum. She is sweet, you can have too much of her, but a little now and then is just wonderful. She even has a little sherry in her.
I’m sitting here now typing this rubbish on my iPad – my Christmas present from mum that I couldn’t believe I actually have. We don’t tend to even give each other proper presents for our own festivals let alone a Christian one. I guess mum wanted an excuse to help out. I’m so excited about the new gadget, the idea of having everything I need in my coat pocket – straight onto the cloud, music sorted, writing sorted. this is what I need.
Anyway, back to the horrors of family, in an hour we’ll all go out for our big display of Indian family bonds and the strength of the love we share! What a charade, but nonetheless a charade I suspect that so many families perform most of the time.
We’ll share the joy of helping each other dress, giggling away like school girls. The brothers will show how they protect their women.
And strangely no one will throw up!Read More
Can I just shyly raise my hand a little above my head, to attract some embarrassed attention?
I over emphasise the humility in this I hope as that’s what I feel is the appropriate way for me to behave after my shameless showing off and rants of the last few days.
Look guys. I’m not as bad as all that.
I’m just a girl looking for love, attention, and a way through this difficult life.
I know I have exaggerated all sorts of things, in part to anger by brothers who I may not love, but who I don’t actually want to upset either. And in part just because I’m an angry little bitch at times, but I promise that to know me is to love me.
I do fancy Suzy, and we do get a bit frisky at times, only ever when Suzette is with her dad though.
It sounds complicated, but actually once you truly drop your sexual prejudices it’s completely natural. Or at least it feels like it is to me. I fancy Joel as well, it’s just that he won’t risk being with me on our own!
Growing up should be fun shouldn’t it?
We should celebrate a bit shouldn’t we? Actually I meant to write experiment there, but I’m going to leave it as it is because I think the mistake is true too.
If I was a man feeling like I do then I’d just go and pray. But I couldn’t pretend a faith that I don’t have, just because I’m feeling contrite.
Not sorry for what I say or do, just sorry for causing unintentional upset.Read More
How embarrassed am I?
I wrote from the heart (but even then extremely toned down) when I said that I needed a serious shagging after the electricity of the rain storm on Friday.
I joking said at the end “does Mother read this?”, in full knowledge that mamma is close to scared of a computer.
What I hadn’t thought of was that my brothers would read it. And now I’m in deep shit.
I have grief off them all the time for shaving my head and looking like a lesbian so they say (good job they don’t know just how good friends Suzy and i are, especially as they both fancy her). But now admitting on the internet that I was gagging for it has enraged them and they reckon I will bring shame onto their oh so perfect family!
I’m writing this here to show just how angry I am with them. I have switched off the phone after one of the idiots screamed his quasi religious crap at me earlier.
Listen guys this is the UK. I am a grown and more importantly I am an independent woman.
Bloody hell. Hopefully when i write again I shall have calmed down a bit and be able to carry on with my usual level of high brow cultural comment, but right now I want to sever ties with most of the idiots I have to put up with as a family. Mamma – I’m really sorry, I know you hate it when I rant against the boys, but sadly that’s all they are, boys.
And no I don’t want a shag now!