jump to navigation

Thoughts and Horrid Hormones November 9, 2006

Posted by Jen in : Journal, Novel, Writing Bits , 5 comments

It’s early. I decided that today would be the day I started getting up early to make headway on my novel. I managed last week to justify my lack of actual typing of words (to thus improve word count) by the fact that I’d actually Had Some Thoughts. Clearly these are not going to carry me through for very long. Perhaps I need to have more thoughts? How many ideas or thoughts does a person need to have every day, I wonder?

I mean, I obviously have lots of thoughts. But the number of thoughts far outweigh the amount of control I have over my brain. This equates to the the sad truth that most of my thoughts are either:

a - Complete Random Rubbish

b - Very Clever Thoughts but About the Wrong Things

You can see my dilemma.

And now, trying to chase my thoughts around the room and rearrange them into a pretty pattern, my tea has gone cold. And I can’t bloomin well write anything without tea, can I? It’s a very tricky business, this writing malarkey.

Oh and I think I may be hormonal. Am planning to adopt an ‘every silver lining has a cloud’ mentality today. Not a good day to have my yearly appraisal at work. Should there be a lack of posts hereafter, you can assume that I have been arrested for running amok and stapling my boss to my desk.

Now there’s a thought.

I Give Up November 5, 2006

Posted by Jen in : Writing Bits , add a comment

One of the traditions I’ve tried to hang onto over the years has been a ‘Sunday Family Evening’. Various themes have come and gone, including ‘Monarch of the Glen’ (”aw, me wee kilt”) and Steve Irwin, the crocodile guy.

As the boys got older, the veering away from Simpsons and Futurama in favour of natural history documentaries has, admittedly, become more tricky. I want them, just for an hour a week, to watch, you know, edumacational stuff. They humoured me tonight.

“Go on Mitzy,” they smiled beguilingly. “You pour another glass of wine and we’ll find a suitable animal programme we can all enjoy.”

Aw, I love my kids, I thought.

And what are we watching, you may be wondering? Intellect at its best…

Carry On Follow That Camel.

And I’m laughing. Even though Sid James isn’t in it.

Let this be a warning to you. Don’t have children. You will end up like me… seriously. I was ok once, really.

Pass the vino? Someone? Please????

The Joy of Shopping October 29, 2006

Posted by Jen in : Writing Bits , add a comment

Well, yesterday was interesting. I actually had a ‘girlie day’, something I haven’t done for a very, very long time. Off to Brighton went Tina and I in our unsuitable shoes and with credit cards at the ready. It was one of many plans I’ve had to take Tina’s mind off her lovelorn existence generated by her ongoing 2-year involvement with a married bloke. Not a good idea. He has got nice teeth though, I’ll give him that. Mind you, so did the big bad wolf… hmmmmm.

So… shopping and extravagance it was then, though neither of us has any money. But it doesn’t seem like real money after a couple of drinks and an hour or two of tapas and sangria. Common sense went floating off into the neon-lit sky as non-essential goodies beckoned us. There’s something rather intoxicating about waltzing round an unfamiliar city. Especially when you have indoctrinated yourself that the good old Visa has a ‘target’ rather than a ‘limit’. I’m sure my bank manager won’t mind. “You’re worth it,” he’ll smile. I, in turn, will give him a twirl in my lovely new clothes, smiling winsomely. Oddly, this tactic didn’t work terribly well with lovely bf when I tottered in at 9pm. Funny, that.

The afternoon also made Tina and me experience lots of other sensations that we might otherwise have happily avoided. Like feelings of fatness, frumpiness and middle-aginess. Where do all those beautiful, funky young things come from with their oddly-placed piercings and pre-puberty bodies? Bastards.

So, today’s pampering has resulted in the following:

shit ideas

Boredom, boozing and hoovering October 22, 2006

Posted by Jen in : Bits and Pieces, Journal, Writing Bits , 3 comments

Well, today is a rare chance to have a whole day to myself: I did three days’ work in one yesterday, meaning that my Saturday evening was spent feeling completely and utterly knacked out in front of the TV. No matter, I thought, tomorrow I will ‘do stuff’. Hmmmmm… the boys come back at teatime and so far I have done what is officially known as Bugger All.  Lovely bf is even more under the weather than the crappy weather. We have sadly run out of Lemsip so I am having to medicate him with Sake. Well, it’s warm and liquidy… must be the same, right? I’m gallantly assisting in the Sake consumption while watching Thursday’s episode of The Bill which isn’t quite the day of creative genius I had envisaged.

And it’s raining. Stinky Dawg’s tummy is making very peculiar noises that herald the fact that he has not yet been Officially Emptied. And he keeps staring at me. In a smelly sort of way. A way that means I will have to go slomping and sliding through the mud before I can continue doing bugger all. Sigh.

Actually, I am misleading you, dearest reader. I have, in fact - drum roll please! - done the hoovering. Not just normal hoovering but ‘real’ hoovering with the ‘thin end’. Behold the loveliness of the carpet. Despite my day of fannying about, I am the seriously proud owner of beautiful hoover swirls. Yay. Am a domestic goddess. Slightly tipsy one, perhaps, but… HOOVER SWIRLS! Who said domestic drudgery wasn’t fun?

Thoroughly Modern Manners October 16, 2006

Posted by Jen in : A215 stuff, Writing Bits , 3 comments

As I walked along Broad Street towards the dental surgery, I felt more nervous than I had on my first day there three months ago. Today, though, I wasn’t wearing my stiff blue nurse’s outfit that conveyed my identity all week. Today was the scariest day so far: the Christmas party. I’d been fretting for weeks about what to wear and, as I caught sight of my reflection in a vast shop window, I still wasn’t sure I’d got it right. I felt like a sixteen-year-old impostor on the set of Dallas. I looked ridiculous all dressed up on a rainy Saturday lunchtime, despite having spent almost a whole month’s wages on a cream fitted jacket with silver buttons and a long beige skirt. Was I wearing too much make-up? Were my shoulder pads too big? Did I look common? My mother didn’t seem to have a lot of faith in me.

‘Mind your Ps and Qs,’ she’d said as she dropped me into town. God, how old did she think I was? What did ‘Ps and Qs’ even mean anyway?

Appearing common was my biggest fear. I was also nauseatingly worried about going to the restaurant – I had no idea what would be on the menu, whether there would be rows and rows of cutlery to choose from and even whether anyone would talk to me. I had nothing interesting to say to any of them, how could I? I opened the door and walked, jelly-legged, up the three narrow flights of stairs, aware of the cloying smell of cleanness and mouthwash that hung in the air and seemed to become a part of me more and more every day.

I could hear chatter and laughter as I opened the door. I was the last to arrive.

‘Jennifer, there you are! Come and have a glass of champagne - we’re just getting warmed up,’ brayed Anne Forbes. She had the poshest voice of anyone I’d ever met in real life, like Penelope Keith in To the Manor Born but less like warmed honey gliding off a silver spoon. Anne was the hygienist and married to one of the two dentists in the practice. Her husband Tony was quiet, mumbling in his indecipherable South African accent and smiling that smug ‘look, they’re all my own’ kind of way that dentists always seem to have.

I took the glass of champagne. I probably shouldn’t have, I was only 16 after all, but I thought it would have sounded immature to ask for a glass of water instead. The slender stemmed glass in my hand made me feel even more awkward. Sip or swig? I sneaked a look at Kelly, the other dental nurse, and copied her healthy mouthful. I felt it fizzling down towards my tummy. The second gulp strangely found its way to my cheeks, making me warm and rosy-cheeked. I couldn’t remember the consumption of illicit cider during a school trip in August making me feel so tingly. I felt a different person as I drank champagne with all those grown ups.

The slow taxi ride through the narrow lanes to the Bistro Frère didn’t last nearly long enough. I had no idea what to expect but knew from listening to the conversations of our rich patients that ‘the Frère’ was something special. (more…)

Stuff and Nonsense

Posted by Jen in : Journal, Writing Bits , add a comment

I do worry about Number 2 Son… but I wish my own head worked in the ferociously outlandish way that produces such gems as:

“Can you imagine what it would be like to be a Siamese twin?  Your other half might do funny things with your knees.  And what if you shared a stomach and your other half was a vegetarian?  You’d be wanting a burger and your other half would be saying ‘no, dude, it’s cow bums…”

Now, what can possibly go on in a small boy’s mind to produce such stuff?  Whatever it is, I hope he never loses it.

Before Caffeine October 13, 2006

Posted by Jen in : Haiku, Journal, Writing Bits , add a comment

Enveloped in fog

Grey mist seeps into my thoughts

Colouring my day

The ECA approacheth October 1, 2006

Posted by Jen in : A215 stuff, Journal, Writing Bits , 1 comment so far

With the A215 final deadline looming, lovely bf and me decided last night that we would have a concerted ’study day’ today. So far, bearing in mind it is now 1.45, we have had a lie-in, talked about writing, spent a considerable amount of time looking for aforementioned lovely bf’s ’special writing hat’, drunk some vodka, discovered a website which mentions a pet radish named after Cliff Richard and perfected the incredibly wonderful but little-known ‘funky chicken dance’ in preparation for the recommencement next Saturday of ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.

The vodka has now all been swigged mysteriously run out and lovely bf is scavenging through the emergency miniatures on the pantry floor in search of inspiration. You will be relieved to know, interested reader, that he has not yet resorted to the Grand Marnier method of creative impulse, despite my helpful advice that it would taste ‘just like an alcoholic Jaffa Cake’.

Give it time…