damned ticking clocks

Hmm.

The baby thing was what is known as a chemical pregnancy. One of those things I wouldn't have ever known about if I hadn't happened to feel sick and do a test on the offchance. So I feel a bit silly, a little sad and incredibly broody. I am now obsessed with babies and want another one really rather badly. Sigh. It's hard being a woman and having these maternal things.

And the biggie I missed last week was what I thought it was with my friend, so she's actually having a baby in April and I am a tactless oaf. My fingers are crossed for her because there seems to be a lot of failing pregnancies at the moment, but she seems well and suitably sick which is a good sign although it feels like hell at the time.

Meantime I am completely failing to exert any control over the terrible twosome and am trying to study and get the flat ready for selling to get the house we worked out we can actually afford after all. Good things come out of bizarre unexpectednesses.

False alarm

Well, blood tests confirm that I'm not pregnant. So now there remains the question of what caused positive results and symptoms.

I am Not Thinking About it.

(and feeling a little foolish)

Confused

Today it's negative results (no, I don't know why I retested), I don't know what's happening and am putting all thoughts out of my head till I hear back from the doc.

Freak out!

#3

Ho hum, life's a funny old thing. Instead of doing the Masters in engineering that I matriculated for YESTERDAY, I appear to be growing one of these children things. Quite remarkable really, I must be the most fertile person on the planet...

I guess it's time to admit to myself that I am not destined to have a career. Sigh. I am a babymaker.

Anyway, due to being annoyed that I didn't keep a note of the pregnancy last time, I intend to write a blog for this one, hence the early announcement. It will be most boring I should think, but hey, I need to write somewhere.

And can I just say... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!

Bonkers

I just read my last two posts. I have lost my mind.

Yesterday I wanted to achieve behind the computer solitude. Today I want to get out there and interact with real people.

I think I need therapy.

bla bla bla bla bla bla. And bla.

The future is a place where I think and do important things and I am not stuck in the stupid house having virtual whatevers* with people that rub me up the wrong way and couldn't care less if I ceased to exist.

That's not fair. My house isn't stupid.

I am now going to make one of those mood boards where I stick on things that inspire me. Except I'm in a grumpy mood, I'm going to do one of things I want to throw things at, and then throw things at it.

Highly therapeutic I should think. Also highly unlikely as I can't actually be arsed, but hey, it's a different idea.



*some of my whatevers do make me smile. It's not all bad.

a new level of antisociability

Each time I meet someone I feel compelled to apologise for being crap. That's not meant to sound totally self depreciative, I actually do things that I have to apologise for.

Examples from this week alone:

1) met people for the first time and was unintentionally but still comprehensively rude.
2) had coffee today with a friend who was clearly trying to tell me something, wittered utter rubbish then about two hours later it dawned on me that I'd missed a biggie.

So from this moment I am going to conduct all my "meetings" from behind the safety of a computer where I have the added bonus of having time to think about things. Well, sometimes it takes 37 attempts to realise everything, but most of the time it works ok.

This means I no longer need to wash or get dressed and thus will ensure noone mistakenly meets me.

A night out for the girls...

Off for dinner in Glasgow, arrive in Glasgow to be informed that I am staying over, not going home early as planned naively by me. The arm twisting was not excessive, I may add.

Slightly unconventional way to meet someone for the very first time: do come and drink wine in our hotel room and please don't mind if our toilet attacks you.

Yes. Attacked by a toilet. A torrent of water from a burst pipe, which was threatening to drown us all until we turned it off in absence of any action whatsoever from the hotel staff.

Room was pretty much unusable due to the several inches of water and now non functioning toilet, but unfortunately the hotel was full. Negotiations extracted a promise to be moved to another hotel "just across the river" at the end of the night. So off we went for a night out, procuring a free pizza completely unconnectedly in the process and returning as agreed to get a taxi to the new hotel.

Somewhat intoxicatedly negotiating a taxi and hotel with an Ian Fleming (that's not your real name?) we ended up in a taxi going a very, very long way away and depositing us at a rather posh castle hotel. Nice, but where the hell are we? Huge rooms, huge beds, fantastic televisions that didn't work. Our original hotel was being shared by Narcotics Anonymous, this one had a wedding party, and the bonus was that I was officially added to the party despite being a new addition. The strange man in charge provided us with coffee, wedding cake and about 1000 biscuits while trying desperately to put £1 onto a credit card "just because he had to put something through". A suggestion that he should be playing his flute damned near had me ending myself.

And from there on, it was perfectly normal...

To yay or to nay

Yays:

• Olives stuffed with jalapenos
• Galaxy Dark
• Gorgeous boys
  
• The internet

Nays:

• Windows Vista
• People who post endless youtube videos. We know how it works
• People who don't have small children, or any feasible reason other than sheer laziness, that take parent and child spaces. Child, incidentally, doesn't mean teenager or adult offspring
• The planners that decide that regular parking spaces don't need to be big enough to open all the doors of a car in anyway
• Hospitals
• Asda deodorant that makes me sneeze
• The whole recruitment process
• Being internetless for 24 hours
• Taking things too seriously
  

Scunnered...

Third unsuccessful job interview today, it really is soul destroying.

Worrying about the sick/stoical, and the stupid/hypochondriac.

Sick and fed up of people being the way most people are.
Sick and fed up of paranoia that those I am not sick and fed up of must clearly be lying/deluded/finally seeing the light.

Tired. So very tired. Need sleep. Need motivation. Need miracle.

gadgets

So I'm sitting here drooling over the iphone. Yes I need one. For the ten phonecalls a year I make and the 10 miles travel I do these days. Yes, I need one. It's just... necessary.

But wait...

No camera? What???????????????

One day, there will actually be a device that does everything and does it well. I think the Nokia N95 is just about there. We'll see.

Freak out

Arrrrggghhh. Today the children spent the whole afternoon flitting from one impending disaster to another. I did discover that both the dishwasher and washing machine can cope with being reprogrammed and turned off, they both valiantly continue on their intended cycles. I did however have an embarrassing phonecall from Fife Police to ask why there had been a 999 call from my house. They did figure it was children, so were very nice and just checking it out. Yikes.

So far, no job, I am an oaf. Nothing from the Council job I thought had gone well, eventually got an email to confirm that I had been unsuccessful on this occasion (a stupid trite phrase). Sky tormented me for a couple of hours before telling me I wasn't up to standard to answer their phones so feeling really shit hot now. Next week I have interview number three, again with the Council, this time as a receptionist. Hours aren't great, would need childcare for about 6 hours a fortnight, and I have no idea where I will find the energy to work after a day with the terrible twosome. And as to the Masters I am beginning any day - a ha ha ha ha ha ha. Methinks that is potentially a mistake.

I need longer days or a nanny.

Job job job

Despite my impatient ramblings, I ended up with two job interviews. The first of these was today, that of Leisure Attendant at a local primary school. Hours are great, pay is good, job is interesting, but lonesome, no colleagues to chat with - although my friend has a position as head in another school so may be sorted for online scrabble via the intranet.

The second interview is next Thursday and is with Sky's call centre, which would be a good laugh if mindnumbing. And I'd get free Sky Plus, which is almost worth it in itself. Well, ok, no it's not, but here's to positive thinking. Trouble with this is the 3-4 hour interview process. That doesn't sound like a good laugh.

But... today I did an interview and I DID NOT MAKE AN IDIOT OF MYSELF! Really, it went as well as it could have and if I haven't got it, I wasn't the right person for the job. Managed not to talk myself out of each question and at the "do you have any questions?" bit, all these intelligent things started coming out of my mouth. I was impressed, I didn't know they were in there, but I trust that the interviewers didn't notice that this intellect was all new to me.

I must be the only person on the planet who gets a confidence boost from an interview. Here's hoping I get the job as well.

Please cross all your fingers and toes for me.

Regression

I'm sitting here at the desk I got when I was 18, which I rescued from being a plant stand today. I'm next to the bed, back to the mirrored wardrobes, next to the bookcases overflowing with books, and I'm wondering why I've moved on many, many years in time and my bedroom looks exactly the same. It's not the same house and I'm certainly not using a Mac Classic II, but I've got a rush of nostalgia and memories.

I may add the decor and particularly the wall adornments (more art, less BMW) are quite different now, but I don't seem to have changed otherwise all that much. The main thing missing is the stereo and shelves of CDs (updated and part of the infrastructure of the living room), but the laptop, mobile and Palm are all additions I'd have killed for back then. The reason for my being in here is due to two little guys moving into the spare room and slowly spreading throughout the rest of the house, not because this is it, my entire living space.

It's strange. I've got it in the same corner of the room it lived in at home. The windows and wardrobes are in the same relative places. Spooky, somehow, the ghosts of my own past are looking over my shoulder. I hope they aren't too disappointed, I must point them down the hall to the ex-spare room...

Happy little surfer

Sometimes I like the internet.

For one, you get sites like this one:

http://www.worldrps.com

As well as providing amusement, my other half has decided that he needs to train to win at what I call paper, scissors, stone and so we have to play for virtually any task. Which does mean that I have got out of a lot of things I would normally have to do, being as I am better than he.

Then you get useful sites. The Motley Fool is great, it allows me to feel like I am in control of my finances for a good few minutes of delusion when I first check my email, everyone should sign up to their mailing list. I pulled this out of my spam filter as I realised I was actually reading it out of my spam folder. Hmm. Today's hints on living below your means (an alien concept to she-who-likes-lipsticks-and-smoked-salmon) led me to the following website:

http://www.eattheseasons.co.uk

which literally tells you what's in season foodwise. I've been looking for this for ages! You can't trust the shops, they have the same thing year round, just most of the year it tastes rank.

And I am utterly addicted to facebook. It has endless things to do to pass the time.

Happiness is a laptop called laptop.

Oh dear

I am feeling very sorry for myself.

:-(

The joy of jobseeking

Well, due to the fact that children selfishly need nappies and food and other things that cost money, it has come to that time where I need to sell my soul and get a job. Being mostly unemployable doesn't help much as I now have very limited hours to add to my failings.

The obvious local employer has signs everywhere you turn asking for staff. Apparently they are desperate for staff, they have exhausted the workshy labourforce of this slothful town and so I put in an application and waited. Today I decided I was fed up waiting and telephoned them to see what was what. "We are experiencing a high volume of calls, please leave a message". Grand. Because it is possible to speak to an answerphone without sounding retarded? No, it is not. So probably scratch that one.

Employer option 2, sent in application, fed up waiting, called recruitment hotline for "immediate telephone interview". High volume of calls, spoke to a person who took a message, better, but still not actually spoken to anyone. Is the whole of Fife looking for a call centre job today? Why?

Employer option 3, local council, put in two applications. I expect to hear a) nothing or b) something in October. I shall have another look and ponder how many times you can submit an identical application form - it is all entirely factual so there is no room for making it relevant to the job, thus making it unique, or indeed for demonstrating your suitability for the job. And it being the council, it takes them 7 weeks to open the application, 14 weeks to read it, 4 weeks to shortlist [10 minutes warning for interview], 3 weeks to make a decision, 2 weeks to tell you.

Employer option 4, Sainsburys keep their vacancies a big secret. Apparently they reveal them for ten seconds each year at the Jobcentre, but it would seem you actually have to be in the Jobcentre at this golden time.

Employer option 5, Asda. Please God, no.

Employer option 6, McDonalds. The house will be sold before this happens.

Marcus Brigstocke

Tonight's entertainment was the very wonderful Marcus Brigstocke.

I am in love. No, really.

He was very funny, very clever, and he ranted amusingly about all the things I like to rant about: 4x4s, Poles, Europe, debt consolidation adverts, right wing parental utterances, global warming, God and many others I forget.

A truly fabulous show. My husband thought he was a bit smug, but I thought he was magnificent - he put on accurate accents and was really rather different. And very clever. And very funny. And extremely attractive. Sorry, that's irrelevant, isn't it?

Hmm. I have lost all eloquence. He's ace.

Early teenager

At the grand old age of 19 months, Oliver has become concerned with his appearance. Should his mother choose an item of clothing that he doesn't like, he refuses to wear it, pulling it off and fighting the process. So a choice is required, only a selected item will be acceptable. Normal nappies are out of the question, grown up boys apparently will only permit pull ons. Stupid mothers that try to put a little boy nappy on young Oliver get rewarded with tantrums and removal of said nappy. And none of those romper suits for bedtime thank you all the same, Oliver will be wearing pyjamas.

This morning a fight nearly broke out as Oliver wanted to wear the top I was putting on Rob. Luckily this was a gift, so there are two of the same top; peace was restored when the second top was produced and Oliver could wear it as well.

The future of clothing my (fractionally) younger son looks ominous. There are two saving graces - one, Rob couldn't care less as long as the whole process is over as quickly as possible; two, St Daddy of Daddydom can put on whatever he likes, he's Daddy after all and if Daddy thinks it's good, it must be good.

My life in books

I was reading a magazine (don't ask which one, it was more than an hour ago) and it was interviewing some celebrity (again, don't ask who) about books. They stated the books that had meant a lot to them over the years, so I started thinking about the books I have loved. I pinched the title "my life in books" from that article by the way, it's not remotely a reflection of my life. But onward...

The first book I remember loving was "A Child's Garden of Verse" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I was hugely into this at about the age of 5, providing huge amusement to my parents by referring to the author's middle name as "Louise". I think I liked this because it referred to his childhood in Edinburgh, like mine. My most favourite poem from that was The Lamplighter:

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.
It's time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea,
And my papa's a banker and as rich as he can be;
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I'm to do,
O Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the lamps with you!

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;
And oh! before you hurry by with ladder and with light;
O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!

A little older and I read "101 Dalmations" by Dodie Smith. I loved this book so much, thankfully nobody subjected me to the Disney travesty by the same name (Perdita's the liver spotted stray, her name means "lost"; the female protagonist is called Missus;). This is just an utterly beautiful book, I read it and read it and read it. Some years later I discovered "The Starlight Barking" which is the sequel to this, also lovely.

My mother was keen to introduce me to the books she'd enjoyed as a child and so she bought me Anne of Green Gables which I adored and read all of the sequels (which did get progressively less good, but never mind). A girl with an imagination even more vivid than my own! And of course I read Little Women, which remains one of my favourite books of all time. I cried when Beth died, I so wanted Jo to fall in love with Laurie, I wanted to be Amy. The sequels to this did match up to the original and even the Hollywood Winona Rider effort was fitting (except Clare Danes was dreadful as Beth).

From here I forget the chronological order of everything...

Pride and Prejudice gained me a B for Higher English. I read this of my own accord (I hated the dissection by English classes) and having been completely traumatised by the lack of poetry and presence of a Macbeth question in Paper I, I was overjoyed to have a question that could be perfectly answered about Pride and Prejudice in Paper II. It thus holds a special place for me, as well as the fact that I'd really like to be Elizabeth Bennett (although I think Darcy could do with a little more spark).

When Andrew Lloyd Webber did The Phantom of the Opera, I fell totally in love with all of it - Michael Crawford and all. I'm not big on musicals, but I love all the music from this. I listened to the vinyl of the entire recording incessantly and finally a couple of years ago managed to get a CD of the original cast. Aside from the music though, this is a lovely story, so when I saw the book by Gaston Leroux I was intrigued to read it. It is a fabulous book, it is written as a piece of investigative journalism and even though I knew the story from the musical, I was hooked. The film, although good, is based on the musical rather than the book, the script appears to be the same. Gerard Butler as the Phantom comes pretty damned close to fantasy.

Having always loved Christmas and also the Muppets' Christmas Carol, I am not sure why I never thought to read the Christmas Books by Charles Dickens until a few years ago. Still, I did and they are/it is fabulous. Dickens writes superbly, he really does make you feel like you have seen what he describes.

Now, I don't have any aversion whatsoever to Chick Lit, it's mindless escapism and a very easy way to spend time and lose yourself in a story, even if real life doesn't ever emulate it in its annoying tendency to be real. Rachel's Holiday by Marian Keyes, anything by Freya North and the utterly silly and adorable Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella are my favourites. The Old Girl Network by Catherine Alliott is the book I'd have written if I had the talent/inclination/timing.

I read a lot of self help books, especially ones that promise to fix things that I really ought to be able to fix myself without reading a book. Most of them I discard in disdain, most of them are useless, but at a particularly low point, I read Fiona Harrold's "Be Your Own Life Coach" (I know... I have lots of "Be Your Own X" and "Change Y in Z days", I believe in miracles) and it really did somehow hit the right spot. Almost overnight I was able to change my views on many things and it literally did cure a bout of near-depression.

Finally, I must include Jasper Fforde. I don't mean a specific book, the first one I read was the first Nursery Crime one, The Big Over Easy, but all of his books are in a similar vein and they are clever without being taxing for a poor child frazzled brain. The Thursday Next series are all fabulous and everyone should read them. Immediately.