Caif. Or. Ni A.

Here I come!

This will be my last post from the chilly shores of Blighty for a while, for tomorrow I am off to the sunny orange groves and rainbow love of California for a whole month.

Today I am doing boring things like packing, going to the bank and popping into M&S to buy Les Parents the super strong tea they prefer. It's impossible to buy proper tea in the States, unless you find a specialist shop. Go to any supermarket and they will have a whole aisle devoted to 'tea', but it's not real tea. It's usually hippy crap made of dried orange peel and rosehips. Box after box, in cutesy cardboard designs.

I do like cups of hippy toenail clippings to send me to sleep and after dinner. Chamomile is good for settling stomachs and peppermint is nice if you have a cold. But nowhere can you find an honest to goodness box of fermented black tea. I realise Fairtrade and Organic is probably too much to ask, but Christ! Does no-one drink PG Tips even?

I have The Mank

And the Mank has me.

Bleaaatcchh!

snifffle

Yes that's me, wheezing into a snot sodden hanky, peering at you with red rimmed eyes through a fringe of unwashed hair. Glamourous ain't I? I've spent the last few day lying on the sofa feeling very sorry for myself and drinking orange juice by the gallon and commanding The Boy:

'Sweeeeetiieeee'

'Yes, my snotty angel?'

'I may be Dying'

'Nobody ever died of a cold my darling'

'Can you go and buy me some OJ?'

'I would, but I've just got back from work, I'm knackered and I haven't sat down yet. And I have a tiny tickle in my throat'

'Oi! I'm the only one whose allowed to be ill round here'

'Right you are my love. I'll just walk 20 minutes to the shop that stocks the good OJ shall I?'

'I am ILL. You cannot guilt me'

..and off he went. Bless him.

I hope I recover in time to fly on Tuesday. Flying whilst suffering from The Mank is not to be recommended. Although flying whilst suffering from a killer hangover is even worse. Remind me to drink Nothing on monday night.

Duuuude! California!

So, the past few days have been spent moping about and feeling sorry for myself, and broke. Which is crap. I hate not having a job to go to. It's not just the money, it's being mentally engaged with something, having demands on my time and being able to twirl, twirl, twirl around in a swivel chair. You see I made The Boy throw his away 'because it's ugly and broken and I hate it.' So the only place I can go to twirl now is an office, ever since Office Depot threw me out for twirling all their chairs to bits.

Which brings us to California. My parents live in California because me dear old dad owns a thriving construction business there. And now his PA's walked out. See where I'm going with this? My Pa has offered to fly me out to work for him for a month while he looks for a replacement. How could I say no? They have swivel chairs there.

Unfortunately I am going to miss The Boy an awful lot. But I'll get to hang out with Miss Wiggle and drink her new cocktail the French 75, which apparently involves vodka AND Champange. hmm.

Any San Francisco based readers want to hang out? I'm flying out next week.

Laid Off

I'm not going to post in detail about this because...I don't really want to. It sucks, I'm very depressed about it because I really liked my job. But they can't afford me anymore.

Anybody want to hire me?

3 Years

Three years ago approximately, The Boy and I first got it on. Ahem. As we aren't married this is the anniversary we choose to celebrate. Not the first kiss, or the first time we met or any of that bollocks. No, we choose to celebrate the culmination of 3 weeks of furious flirting, driving our housemates up the wall, the first *blush* time, *simper* we, Did It. Yeah baby.

What can I possibly say without getting all gushy? Just that, you still make me laugh until the cider squirts out of my nose. I totally fancy you, you put up with I must admit, even to me, annoying moods. And I still want to jump your bones.

Happy Anniversary babe.

OMG!! I totally have a blog you guys!

...I'd totally forgotten. Alright, I hadn't forgotten, but y'know. Busy living life and stuff. Okay, so that's no excuse, but you have to understand, I Am Very Lazy. I started this blog when I was unemployed, because I needed something to do, but now I'm like working and stuff, I have less time for blogging because I need all my spare time for watching TV and worrying about the end of the world. And turning 30.

Oh yes, turning 30. Ick. The French Fancy and I were watching a TV program a few months ago about modern motherhood, and we both suddenly realised, that as it was less than 9 months to our birthdays, We Would Not Have Our Children In Our 20s. Neither of us were planning to have children any time soon, but still...It was a shock. We will officially not be young mums. Which doesn't exactly bother me, as Chairman Ma was 41 when she had me (and 43 when she had The Advocate) But still, there is a sense of doors being closed. Options changing. I don't know if I can get pregnant the normal way anyway as I have PCOS, which has never bothered me before - but recently it has.

Anyway. You are all invited to the party to celebrate all this age related angst. Sometime next February.