I looked after my niece, Chloe, today and boy is that an experience. She’s 4 years old and has the same sort of imagination as me. Which is fine if you are the one with the imagination but also very hard for anybody else to understand what on earth is going on. We played doctors and nurses with all her teddies and then with me and then with her. Fudge even had to suffer the ignominy of having a broken tail, leg and ear. I suffered from, among other things, a broken ankle from tripping over a tree, a broken leg from being bitten by a squirrel and death by cherries.
Chloe is my sister, Kara, and her husband, Richard’s first and currently only child. Ricky was working and Kara had already planned a meeting with her friend for lunch when Ricky got called in (he’s a doctor) so it was off to Auntie Daisy’s for the afternoon for Chloe. She’s a sweet child but even just a couple of hours with her and I realise that I’m not ready for children. My mum says that no-one’s ever really ready for children but I’m just not sure I have the energy to have one 24/7. She was exhausting and later on I have every intention of having a lovely bubble bath then going to my bed as early as I can bear.
Other things that have happened this week is that Mike and I went out again. This time he took me bowling which is the perfect venue for a perfectly typical date. I’m losing my affliction of getting tongue tied around him but bowling still gave me the opportunity to ogle him and think of witty things to say while he’s taking his shot. All that seemed unnecessary when he kissed me after I got a strike. I don’t mean to come across as a sap but I just about melted. It just goes to show that once a geek, always a geek. And if you pair that geek with a jock then can you really blame her for getting all gooey eyed when he kisses the daylights of her? After the bowling we went for a walk along the beach then partook of a little more kissing in his car before he dropped me off which is definitely regressing to high school but what the hey! Just before he left he gave me a box of chocolates which is adorably cute. I need a moment just to sigh at his loveliness.
The chicken in the title comes from the fact that I haven’t been to Mrs J’s house at all this week. I phoned her and the volunteer centre to let them know and told them I was really busy with work and helping out my mum with the dogs but I’m not, to be honest. I just don’t particularly want to see Nick for so many reasons that I don’t want to list. Another sigh, this one for a completely different reason.
Saturday, 27 August 2011
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
Freezer Boy: Round 3
I have taken to running from my house to my car these days in order to avoid Greg. He asked me out the other day and I had to let him down which is never nice. I hate saying no but I just couldn’t let him think that I might be interested in him when I’m clearly not. He’s nice enough if just a little too eager/creepy. The next day I saw him going into his house with a girl so hopefully he’s found someone to take his mind off his love for me. (He told me he loved me when he asked me out - *shudders*.
Anyway – it was the usual at Mrs J’s this week. She asked me to make her some bread and we sat and had jam pieces with freshly baked brown bread. Divine. She has a new boyfriend. Alfred is 85 and lives a couple of doors down from her. They have regular garden “dates” where they sit in their gardens or watch the telly together. Midsummer Murders if I remember rightly. I’m beginning to worry that she has a more active romantic life than I do since I haven’t heard from Mike in over a week since the flowers. Sigh.
So FB came round again while I was there. As soon as I saw him drive up in his sporty little GT, I told Mrs J that I had to go. She asked me why and I told her that part of my volunteering was to make sure she had company and there was no point in being here when her family were here. I don’t think she believed me because she gave me a strange look and told me that Nick was just here to pick up something for his mum, Mrs J’s daughter. I know, because Mrs J has told me that her family are useless. She had one daughter that used to come in and help out with shopping etc but she's been really busy with work lately and hasn’t been able to help out as much. That was when they contacted the Age Concern who looked for volunteers to help out with her day to day stuff. Much better than going into a home, says Mrs J. Not that I can imagine someone with her joy for life being cooped up in a home but I know that sadly it’s sometimes the only option for people.
Anyway – I gathered up Fudge (who had been happily sitting on Mrs J’s knee!), gave my hasty goodbyes and hot footed it out the front door. Knowing Nick (curse him for having a name that I really like. I bet it stands for Nicholas or something that makes me want to swoon!) he would come gallivanting in the back door like he owned the place. Probably complaining about the fact the oven had been on for the bread or some such nonsense. I made it out to my beat up little mini (the old kind – love her!), put Fudge in the passenger seat and was coming back to my door when out the front door comes Nick in his fancy, probably designer, suit. It was the fact that he’d caught me running away that made me so angry. That and the fact that he looked so gorgeous, was wearing a suit and has a name that sounds like the name you would give a bad boy in a Mills and Boon novel. That fact pushed the fact that I really should be apologising to him after the cinema incident. Anyway – he came over to me and handed me the bag of baking stuff that I’d brought round to make bread with. It’s hard to be annoyed with someone who’s doing a good deed but it’s never easy for me to be nice to someone who pushes my buttons like this guy does. I took it and our hands touched and I swear to God I got those tingles up and down my arm that you only read about in those self same Mills and Boon books. It gave me a jolt and I could only stand there and stare at him. And his mouth, if I’m completely honest. He was doing the same but with a small, smug smile on his lips. Luckily it brought me back to reality and I managed to leave Mrs J’s drive with my dignity in tact and a cloud of dust covering the drive of the cute little house. Oh and her grandson in his nice suit. Oops.
Anyway – it was the usual at Mrs J’s this week. She asked me to make her some bread and we sat and had jam pieces with freshly baked brown bread. Divine. She has a new boyfriend. Alfred is 85 and lives a couple of doors down from her. They have regular garden “dates” where they sit in their gardens or watch the telly together. Midsummer Murders if I remember rightly. I’m beginning to worry that she has a more active romantic life than I do since I haven’t heard from Mike in over a week since the flowers. Sigh.
So FB came round again while I was there. As soon as I saw him drive up in his sporty little GT, I told Mrs J that I had to go. She asked me why and I told her that part of my volunteering was to make sure she had company and there was no point in being here when her family were here. I don’t think she believed me because she gave me a strange look and told me that Nick was just here to pick up something for his mum, Mrs J’s daughter. I know, because Mrs J has told me that her family are useless. She had one daughter that used to come in and help out with shopping etc but she's been really busy with work lately and hasn’t been able to help out as much. That was when they contacted the Age Concern who looked for volunteers to help out with her day to day stuff. Much better than going into a home, says Mrs J. Not that I can imagine someone with her joy for life being cooped up in a home but I know that sadly it’s sometimes the only option for people.
Anyway – I gathered up Fudge (who had been happily sitting on Mrs J’s knee!), gave my hasty goodbyes and hot footed it out the front door. Knowing Nick (curse him for having a name that I really like. I bet it stands for Nicholas or something that makes me want to swoon!) he would come gallivanting in the back door like he owned the place. Probably complaining about the fact the oven had been on for the bread or some such nonsense. I made it out to my beat up little mini (the old kind – love her!), put Fudge in the passenger seat and was coming back to my door when out the front door comes Nick in his fancy, probably designer, suit. It was the fact that he’d caught me running away that made me so angry. That and the fact that he looked so gorgeous, was wearing a suit and has a name that sounds like the name you would give a bad boy in a Mills and Boon novel. That fact pushed the fact that I really should be apologising to him after the cinema incident. Anyway – he came over to me and handed me the bag of baking stuff that I’d brought round to make bread with. It’s hard to be annoyed with someone who’s doing a good deed but it’s never easy for me to be nice to someone who pushes my buttons like this guy does. I took it and our hands touched and I swear to God I got those tingles up and down my arm that you only read about in those self same Mills and Boon books. It gave me a jolt and I could only stand there and stare at him. And his mouth, if I’m completely honest. He was doing the same but with a small, smug smile on his lips. Luckily it brought me back to reality and I managed to leave Mrs J’s drive with my dignity in tact and a cloud of dust covering the drive of the cute little house. Oh and her grandson in his nice suit. Oops.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Date Night
Well, the date went off but it wasn’t without its hitches. The first hitch was that Mike text me to ask if we could postpone the date as he had an emergency to deal with. This was a couple of hours before we were supposed to meet but not before I had started to prepare for it! Now, I don’t know if it’s a ‘me’ thing, or a general ‘girl’ thing but in my mind he might as well have told me that he’d decided he didn’t fancy me afterall and that I was delusional for thinking that he would ever really go on a date with me! Ridiculous but true. So imagine my horror/delight when he then called the next day to apologise. His little brother had fallen out a tree and broken his arm and since Mike was the only one around, he was drafted in for hospital detail.
All that ice cream and self pity for nothing!
It actually worked out for the best (not that I’m glad Mike’s brother fell out a tree, you understand – he’s fine btw) but it gave me more time to decide on the best outfit to make it look like I hadn’t tried anything fancy as well as time to work off the tub of ice cream I’d scoffed! Oops.
So off we went to the pictures. We went to see some action flick that I can’t even remember the name of but at least it wasn’t a horror flick as I have been known to watch films with my eyes closed and scratch my ears so that I can neither see or hear anything remotely scary. Yes, I really am that much of a wimp!
In a gentlemanly gesture, Mike offered to get the sweets and popcorn (I couldn’t say no in case he somehow realised all the ice-cream munching that had gone on!) while I went to the ladies. With queues being so long I had time to wander around where only ticketed people can go to wait for Mike when suddenly I realised someone was talking to me. I turned around and who should be standing there but Freezer Boy himself. Mrs J’s grandson. The Pillock with a capital P.
I’m not entirely sure how the conversation started but I’m sure it was something along the lines of an accusation that I was here on my own on a Friday night. Not that there’s anything wrong with going to the pictures, or anywhere, on your own but I just didn’t like the way he said it with his little condescending smile. I told him, with no little bit of condescension of my own, that no, I was here on a date. He didn’t believe me and made no bones about telling me of this fact.
Now, as I’ve mentioned before, I am not one to be nasty to anyone except for in my head – I just don’t like confrontations. Probably because I suck at them but that’s not the point. I looked around desperately to see if Mike was about to come to my rescue but he was still holed up in front of the nacho counter so I was left alone with Freezer Boy as he said something else to me – something I clearly wasn’t listening to. I stared at him until I finally realised whatever he’d been saying to me was now finished and he was waiting for an answer/comment/punch.
Instead I said: I don’t think we should see each other anymore. Like I was dumping him or something. Total mortification. And I’m unfortunately not the sort of girl that does embarrassment with any sort of grace or aplomb. With my cheeks ready to grill meat and my eyes unable to meet his I still noticed that he was grinning at me. That man is so annoying.
He asks me why and I blurt out because he’s a pain in the keister and I just don’t want to deal with him anymore as he’s making my life ANNOYING! Woops for finally being able to be nasty to someone – even if they did deserve it. Looking back, he looked a little, not upset, but perhaps a little taken aback by my nastiness and I suddenly remember another reason I don’t like confrontations or being nasty to people. The guilt.
Mike chose that moment to come back from getting his nachos (and popcorn, sweets and a slush puppy – my God, the man’s a human hoover) and slung his arm around my shoulders. Now I normally would enjoy a good ol’ display of male testosterone and territorial-ness but this was obviously only one step away from coming over and peeing a large circle around me. Mike clearly wanted to show Freezer Boy who I was with but as he walked away I couldn’t help but feel guilty and mean. Especially since when we got into the actual theatre I realised that FB was obviously there on his own.
New note to self. Don’t assume people are being rude to you just because you don’t like them. Sigh.
All that ice cream and self pity for nothing!
It actually worked out for the best (not that I’m glad Mike’s brother fell out a tree, you understand – he’s fine btw) but it gave me more time to decide on the best outfit to make it look like I hadn’t tried anything fancy as well as time to work off the tub of ice cream I’d scoffed! Oops.
So off we went to the pictures. We went to see some action flick that I can’t even remember the name of but at least it wasn’t a horror flick as I have been known to watch films with my eyes closed and scratch my ears so that I can neither see or hear anything remotely scary. Yes, I really am that much of a wimp!
In a gentlemanly gesture, Mike offered to get the sweets and popcorn (I couldn’t say no in case he somehow realised all the ice-cream munching that had gone on!) while I went to the ladies. With queues being so long I had time to wander around where only ticketed people can go to wait for Mike when suddenly I realised someone was talking to me. I turned around and who should be standing there but Freezer Boy himself. Mrs J’s grandson. The Pillock with a capital P.
I’m not entirely sure how the conversation started but I’m sure it was something along the lines of an accusation that I was here on my own on a Friday night. Not that there’s anything wrong with going to the pictures, or anywhere, on your own but I just didn’t like the way he said it with his little condescending smile. I told him, with no little bit of condescension of my own, that no, I was here on a date. He didn’t believe me and made no bones about telling me of this fact.
Now, as I’ve mentioned before, I am not one to be nasty to anyone except for in my head – I just don’t like confrontations. Probably because I suck at them but that’s not the point. I looked around desperately to see if Mike was about to come to my rescue but he was still holed up in front of the nacho counter so I was left alone with Freezer Boy as he said something else to me – something I clearly wasn’t listening to. I stared at him until I finally realised whatever he’d been saying to me was now finished and he was waiting for an answer/comment/punch.
Instead I said: I don’t think we should see each other anymore. Like I was dumping him or something. Total mortification. And I’m unfortunately not the sort of girl that does embarrassment with any sort of grace or aplomb. With my cheeks ready to grill meat and my eyes unable to meet his I still noticed that he was grinning at me. That man is so annoying.
He asks me why and I blurt out because he’s a pain in the keister and I just don’t want to deal with him anymore as he’s making my life ANNOYING! Woops for finally being able to be nasty to someone – even if they did deserve it. Looking back, he looked a little, not upset, but perhaps a little taken aback by my nastiness and I suddenly remember another reason I don’t like confrontations or being nasty to people. The guilt.
Mike chose that moment to come back from getting his nachos (and popcorn, sweets and a slush puppy – my God, the man’s a human hoover) and slung his arm around my shoulders. Now I normally would enjoy a good ol’ display of male testosterone and territorial-ness but this was obviously only one step away from coming over and peeing a large circle around me. Mike clearly wanted to show Freezer Boy who I was with but as he walked away I couldn’t help but feel guilty and mean. Especially since when we got into the actual theatre I realised that FB was obviously there on his own.
New note to self. Don’t assume people are being rude to you just because you don’t like them. Sigh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)