Parker?

Me as Lady Penelope by my friend Dr Bannon. Molly Bloom might like this. Just off down the shops for more 'Buie Breezers.

Not a lot!

Following on from Bob Swipe's marvellous post - here's my favourite Debbie McGee model. I think that's what you call a hair-don't as opposed to a hair-do.

Confession time

My poor deluded child: Mummy? How do traffic lights know when to change?

Me: Oh, there's a really tiny person who lives inside the post and they have a remote control. They count to twenty and then they go red, then amber aaaaaaand green!

My poor deluded child: Oh. Are they tall like you?

Me: Nooooooo! They're only this high (1" between finger and thumb) and see that plant (weed growing at base of traffic light) that's their garden.


Poor deluded child: Oh (quizzically - still thinking). PAUSE. Do they live outside or inside the pole?

Me: Oh, inside. Poor deluded child: Oh (quizzically again). SILENCE.

Him: pondering

Me: wondering why on earth I made up such a ridiculous story - but that really was the image I had in my head at the time.

Later he asked me (while he was having a poo) whether I had noticed something special about Thelma, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby. Er no I said - what?

Well, he said - they don't do wee's or poo's in the day. It's so cool, they wait until all the children are in bed and do it while they are asleep.


Hm...my turn to go "oh...." Fair point I suppose. Good observation.

If it wasn't for those snoopin' kids......

Bad Speeling

I've just opened a work e mail that says:

'Hi Astrid....pleased to meat you' and 'hear in Dallas'. Exsqueeze me?

UPDATE:
Just had another e mail from them saying: 'Please excuse the typo. Not intentional'. Made me laugh and feel a bit bad I've blogged about it now. Oh well - there it is for all to see...

Just call me Rumsfield!

Ie: clumsy and crap at explaining anything and should be barred from speaking or uttering anything again! Further to my previous post - mainly a flippant and not particularly serious remark re: why do Americans call those in authority (including their Dad) Sir? Wavy Davy Gravy or whatever he choses to call himself which changes on a daily basis by the way, was right when he politely pointed out that it is a stereotype perpetuated in part by mainstream tv. I agree - my images of people speaking like that generally are conjured up from films as opposed to real life. Although I was called 'Ma'am' and 'Miss' quite alot in Memphis when I visited there. When I went to visit my great afore-mentioned friend Wavy Wobbly Gravy (or whatever he calls himself) in Boston last year he called me 'ashtray' (a play on my real name - and one I quite like actually). Oh, and once in Bakersfield I got asked for my id and then was asked 'your not from around here, arr yuuu? Er, no my good man. Good morrow and fair thee well.

Hup 2,3,4

Blimey. I've had two hits and 9 page views from Corpus Christi Army Depot in Texas today - no comments as yet though. Aaaaat ease. SIR! Why do Americans always call their Dad sir? I cringe when I hear it every time.

cabin fever

self portrait
Originally uploaded by rockmother.

This is what we do in the school holidays. Take stupid photo's of ourselves mucking about and make my upside-down eyes look like a really weird manga character. It's fun and better than watching telly or making things out of plasticine - especially now it doesn't smell like it used to anymore. I can hear my son singing the chorus to 20th Century Boy/T-Rex in the other room. I'm impressed - he's only just five.

Soul Train

Best clothes. Best dancing. Legendary. Wish it was still on!

Ten Things That Make Me Cry

In no particular order:

1. Seeing babies being born - have witnessed one real one - my god-daughter and seen a few on tv although strangely I didn't cry at my son's birth - too off my head on legalised opiate I think

2. Homelessness

3. Cruelty to those unable to defend themselves

4. Jane Eyre (the book)

5. Michael Buerk's original news broadcast from Africa

6. Several Van Morrison songs

7. Bette Davis in Now Voyager

8. Not being able to call up my dear friend Abbie anymore who I nursed until she died last year. I really really miss her and it gets me every time.

9. Rod Stewart singing 'Have I Told You Lately' Live - the faltering crack in his voice

10. With happiness - at weddings and curtain calls at the ballet/theatre etc - had that since I was a child

I cheated once - when the siamese cat Jason died on Blue Peter I made myself cry to get attention from my mother. It didn't work - she told me not to be so stupid and that it was only a cat. Sounds a bit dysfunctional now I come to mention it....

I'm sure there are lots of other things that make me cry - onions - that sort of thing. Have to go - there is a documentary of Blondie on BBC 1 - can't miss that or I really will cry!

On the way home......

I listened to a shuffled selection very loudly in my K reg

(not my charming bungalow in this picture!)

on my

via my


Leaving Wells Street W1.....
1 . The Rocker/Thin Lizzy ( No wonder he died - the energy in that song - you'd need to take copious amounts of drugs just to get through singing it - I couldn't keep up - it rocks)

2. Paradise City/Guns N Roses (used to hate it but once I sang it at rock karaoke in Great Yarmouth which was above a dodgy lap-dancing club and I love it)

3. Welcome To The Jungle/Guns N Roses (going through Hyde Park got bored skipped halfway to...)

4. Living On a Prayer/Bon Jovi (by this time was in big jam on Cromwell Road at 11pm no less)

5. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This/Eurythmics (reminded me of snogging Rufus Sewell aged 15 (that was him - I was 16 and a half - ooooh) so skipped that too - yes - THAT Rufus Sewell).

6. Oops Upside Your Head/The Gap Band (Love it and also reminds me of doing the rowing thing on the floor - why did we do that? - at Cobwebs or was it Cheeky Pete's in Richmond 1983 - christ on a bike! That was my batwing lilac sweatshirt and stonewash stretch jean phase - slappertastic)

7. Echo Beach/Martha and the Muffins (I was driving quite fast at this point through the back streets of Kensington)

8. Up The Junction/Squeeze - (quite possibly one of the finest songs ever written and I know all the words)

9. Race For the Prize/The Flaming Lips (don't know any other song they've done except this and really like it - coming up to Brook Green at this point)

10. The Man Don't Give A Fuck/Super Furry Animals (turned this up as far as I could without blowing the speakers - driving rather hard around Hammersmith Broadway at this point and thinking how much I love blokey that sings it even though he looks a bit like Howard Marks)

11. Susans House/Eels - (don't know why I've got this on the ipod - got bored halfway, thought of their album cover featuring the girl with the googly eyes and skipped to...)

12. Been Caught Stealing/Janes Addiction - (hm - cranked it up again coming to Richmond roundabout - looked for tent lady but she hasn't returned. The roundabout isn't the same without her)

13. Ain't No Love In the Heart Of The City/Bobby Bland - (a huge favourite of mine - if you don't know Bobby Bland - check him out - I have him on vinyl too)

Home.

Noticed the unfriendly neighbours with the one year old and she who looks pregnant again but not sure - could just be fat that won't shift - have a portable aircon duct spewing noise out of their bedroom window. Thought that was over-doing it slightly. Got further annoyed as the snoring boar was indeed snoring on the sofa when I got in - front windows wide open for all to plunder with the added benefit of the main light on so really easy to see what you're nicking. Retired to the garden where it's nice and quiet. No planes. Lovely.

For Ivan Pope

Heeeeeeelllllllllp!


I'm meeeeeeelllltttting...........

Enough already!

Right - that's enough about toilets and car parks - George Michael will be my guest blogger before we know it.

Here's a lovely picture of my friends kitchen in France.


I went to visit him a couple of weeks ago. He is a 52 year old Belgian-Greek-Jewish-Gay ex-Restuaranteur. I've known him since he gave me a job as a washer-upper in his restaurant - I was too young to serve booze much to my chagrin! I then worked as a waitress for him for the next 10-12 years on and off. He is a fantastic person and brilliant cook. He was previously living in London with his partner for nearly 30 years who unfortunately and very suddenly died nearly six years ago. In hindsight we now know he died of MRSA but little was really known about it then and so he wasn't treated effectively in time. Heartbroken, he sold everything and de-camped to his little '2-up 2-down' as he calls it. Of course he is joking - it's a massive 22 room, rambling chateu in the Dordogne. He is an amazing character and speaks English with the most ridiculous accent - after living more of his life in England than anywhere else he still gets the inflection all around the wrong way. But that's what makes him him and he is a wonderful, funny, childishly naughty and outspoken person with a huge heart. I know he's really bereft at the moment as the anniversary to his partner dying is looming. He misses him terribly and is living the dream they had together which I know is very hard for him sometimes. It's beautiful there and so is he. Here he is:
We hadn't seen each other for around three years but that didn't matter. True friendship means that you can pick up where you left off no matter how long a gap. He has always been there for me as a friend and kind of surrogate parent really. It was like going home and I love him very much.

Toilet Talk

Hi, alright? He got off with a suspended sentence. (Louder) I said he got off with a suspended sentence. Yeah. I know. What? No. I'm on the toilet (cackles). I better go. Oh fuckinell, I forgot. How long've they all been down there then? Well, we'll just give them chips then is it? Alright. Ok. Oh god. Ok. Bye then. Bye.

Overhead in the nextdoor cubicle of a ladies loo on Level Four of an NCP car park in Kingston last Thursday.

PS.

Does anyone know why my blog looks ok in Firefox but crap and un-formatted in Safari? Jag? Popeman? Is anyone out there? Thanking you muchly (phrase overheard in Australia last time I was there - wonderfully awful).

Aaagghhh!

Been feeling a bit like this the last few days - normal service will resume at some point when I pull myself out of the fug I'm currently lodged in. Got a case of the blogging blues.........just going to have a word with myself and stop being a bore. Back soon.

You see!

Patroclus has written a really interesting post about blogging here. It's about the blogosphere and how it is possibly smaller than we think. How many of you actually press the 'next blogger' button? And if you do - has it ever taken you anywhere that led you back to where you started via blogrolls/links? I tried it today and the one I arrived at confirmed why I don't 'do' the next blogger button - I got Sian, Child Of God - born 1986 but re-born 2001. Her blog is here if you are interested. I actually think comments make the blogworld smaller than we think - little circles of bloggers converging, crossing, mixing randomly here and there only to bump into each other every other day. There must be a massive venn diagram or flow chart somewhere of all the blogs and their little pathways through the infinite world of blogland. That reminds me - I must sort my links/blogroll out. Also - does anyone know why my blog looks fine in Firefox but looks shit and un-formatted in Safari? This site is quite interesting if you are into serious geekdom.

I'm going to kill someone!

The little one has just told me that he LOVES Geoffrey from Rainbow. I'm not too happy about that - mainly because Geoffrey is wearing a rather tight pair of lewd red dungarees and is arguing with Bungle. Bungle wants to play the trumpet and Geoffrey's fighting Zippy for the paper and comb - more like the skin flute and pork sword if you ask me! And as for Rod Jane and Freddy - disgraceful hippy free-love commune escapees - although I have a strange recollection that I used to wish Jane would be my mother. Don't go there. Definately time for bed now.

On a dark desert highway.....

It's quite nice to find out someone has been so kind as to name their hotel after me but a shame it's in the city thought of as THE most boring in the world - Brussels. Maybe I'm jinxed - my birthday is also officially (according to eminent mathematicians) THE most depressing day of the year. Ho hum. Apologies for random gibberish posting but am nursing a small hangover after impromptu night out. And as Mary Dejevesky points out rather well (extraordinarily badly) in her recent Independent article - I am a woman - I shouldn't be blogging at all or if I am I should be waxing lyrical about having to scour the baby sick off my Farhi silk two-piece whilst hot-housing little Oscar on flash cards of quadratic equations and rustling up a coq au vin in my Agent Provocateur corset all at the same time.

Blah blah blah - an early night beckons - can't wait as I know I will wake up feeling SO much better than I have all day today. It has been a struggle. Here's a picture of me with my very first awfully heavy mobile phone circa 1989. Utterly riddick (thank you thank you annie rhiannon for that great word).

The attractive fringe was really rather riddick as well. It was grown out some time ago you'll all be pleased to know.
Thank you and goodnight.

Blokes on Buses

Had to get the bus back to Richmond from Chiswick as the tube was shut. I didn't really mind as I was a little tipsy and quite like getting the last bus home as you can eavesdrop on random (usually drunken) conversations. I sat at the top in front of recently split-up-from-partner bloke and sad single bloke friend who was imparting 'relationship advice' to his newly single workmate. Apparently Jan wants all his stuff out of the flat - well, it has been there 6 weeks and he did leave her because he wanted to try and go out with Sarah who is already in a relationship. Don't blame her really. He couldn't see what the fuss was all about. He said he thought she was being unreasonable and well, really petty. Apparently, Robert in the office who used to go out with her said he thought this guy was a 'saint' for taking her on as she's 'really high maintenance'. 'You did the right thing' said friend. 'Do you know Laura? Pashmina?' Quizzical look from newly single guy. 'She's the really busty one that always wears a pashmina so we call her Pashmina'. 'Oh yeah, yeah'. 'Well I think she really fancies me but apparently she's a bit hard work from what I've heard'. On and on they droned. I taped their whole conversation on my mobile phone. Will transcribe more gems later. Pashmina fancier was desperately trying to get newly single guy to move nearer him - he was obviously lonely. He even offered him space to store his stuff. Newly single guy asked him if it was 'safe. Safe from elements? Single now rather affronted guy said 'YES it's a dry loft, fully insulated, it's a proper roof and everything. Newly single: 'oh right, cheers mate yeah I might do that. I really don't know what I'd have done without all you lot like everyone at work has really been on my side. I feel sorry for Jan but I had to do it, there wasn't any other way to do it really. I really want everyone to meet her. Single guy: 'I'd really like to meet her'. We should do that. Newly single: 'I think you'd really get on.'

You can see how this is going can't you?! I bet Single will end up going out with Newly Single's Ex - Jan and Newly Single will probably chuck himself into Pashmina's ample bosom and hopefully the carefully stored loft items can be un-packed somewhere else and dusted off for another office relationship somewhere off Twickenham Green.

Update on Roundabout Lady

I forgot to mention - I DID go back to visit the 'lady on the roundabout' at her makeshift camp the day after I posted. It was pissing down with rain so I figured she'd be in the tent. But no! Moved on. Everything gone, freshly mowed and all tidied up. So I forgot all about it until last Friday I took a shortcut through a local churchyard as I was in a hurry to get somewhere. It was a bit quiet and eery. Basically, you have to walk down a nasty thin alley between two buildings which brings you out to the side of the churchyard. As I entered the churchyard a really pungent smell hit me - not good - kind of B.O. and strong sweaty feet smell all mixed together with mouldy damp. Not that great on a hot day. Then I saw alot of belongings on a bench generating this horrid stink. A mouldy tent, the side table with troll, bags and bags of clothes and lots of litter. As I turned out of the churchyard I suddenly saw a very angry person lumbering up the road ripping at a packet of fags, chucking the plastic covering everywhere and kicking bollards. It was the Roundabout Lady. She is very imposing - big, butch and has ginger hair which is shaved very close to her head. So there she was stomping up the road back to her new home in the churchyard scary as hell, very aggressive. I thought about going back through the church yard but common sense for once kicked in (must be getting old). In hindsight, I think I would have had an interesting reception had I gone to talk to her in the tent originally but slightly relieved I didn't now. Despite that, she shouldn't be on the streets - no one should. I wonder where she will move to next.

Doh!

I have something to admit. I'm really not stupid I promise but I had a real Olive from On the Buses moment this morning. I've always wondered what the abbreviation LOL stands for when people post a comment etc. and I've been very confused for a very long time genuinely wondering why people sometimes pepper their posts with what I though was an abbreviation for Lots of Love. Doh. Doh and Doh again. I overhead a woman in the Starbucks queue this morning describing an e mail she sent to some friend and she did the whole inverted comma's action "laughing out loud" with her fingers. Halle-bloody-luja - it's only taken quite a few years to click but at least now I know what the hell people are going on about. I'm not really one for abbreviations so I don't T I B U I I T F (that's "think I'll be using it in the future" for all you abbrevo's). Lots of Love xxx