The lovely BF is off for FOUR WHOLE DAYS to this boring old beer and noise fest so I�m all on me lonesome.
Naturally I'm taking the opportunity to schlep about the house in The Dressing Gown of Unflatteringness, moping, smoking cigarettes and NOT raiding the snack cupboard, on account of having lost half a stone already and only four more pounds to go.
I�m also slathering my decrepit old corpse in some kind of �firming cr�me� which was calling me from the myriad shelves of SuperDuperDrug because, apparently, I�m Worth It. It promises great things for my aging epidermis but I somehow doubt I am going to emerge from its fresh-smelling but slightly sticky chrysalis smoothed, toned and wrinkle free by the time Bf comes home on Sunday. I can more or less guarantee he will just go �Your arse feels lovely� or some such silvertongued sentiment of well-observed flattery. And yes, it will probably get him everywhere.
Last night was SUCH a late one. BF had a meeting with a web-designer after he�d finished teaching. Frankly his website sucks major league arse, but we aren�t controlling it at the moment so even updating simple stuff like gig lists and photos involves many and several phone calls, emails and trauma. The new Web-Boy seems to know what he�s doing and has promised us that when he�s done, we�ll be able to update it ourselves and it will be altogether sexier, easier to use and generally more FabulousWebSiteish. By the time he�d finished fart-arsing about trying ALL BFs guitars it was gone 11 and BF still wanted me to bleach the top of his hair. Personally, the �cheese on toast� look is not a favourite of mine, but hell, its his head. He�s packed his leather trousers to wear on stage. I suspect he is going for Sexy Cool Guitar Dude. Sadly I fear he may only achieve Gay-Looking Old Feller. *snort* (I secretly LURVE the leather trousers, and he does look scrummy in them. I would never admit it tho, as he already has an ego the size of Neptune and I amuses me to hear him twittering �I do NOT look gay!....do I?�)
My heartfelt gratitude for all the virtual hugs I received yesterday after my bout of whining. The builder called today to tell us he�s resubmitting the planning application within the next fortnight and thinks that finally, he�s revised the plans to keep everyone happy. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed for a quick finish after that. Just to put some perspective on the moaning of yesterevening, the mortgages on The Palace of Many Sins and Bfs house-shaped pile of crumbling bricks comes to around �2200 ($3000)/month. I don�t know how much you guys make but for a Junior Captain of Industry and a jobbing Muso, that�s a shit-load of cash to find every month � plus bills, plus food, plus petrol and little niceties like clothes for the kids and the odd pint of Coors or five.
If you�re doing the recipe, then add some of the following to the mix and you should end up with a big bowlful of angst soup: A dad with Alzheimer�s, a histrionic mum, another couple of parents with furrowed brows, two nice kids, three really fucked-up kids, two exes (both mental in their own way), one high �pressure job, one sporadic job, some lodgers, a �10K legal bill and a couple of middle-aged saddos who just want to get on with �being together� before they�re too old to appreciate it. Bah.
Anyway, enough of that. Jooj just came downstairs to tell me that there�s a big spider in the bathroom. Actually, she said �Ma! There�s a chuffin great hairy Tranchleeurr on the khazi!� which makes me soooo glad I paid out all that money for private education for her in her formative years. By the time I got upstairs it had bolted, presumably to lurk on BFs side of the bed until I get under the duvet when it will leap out and thumb its nose and waggle its compound eyebrows (Whatever. Ive never looked that closely)and make me screech �HolyFuckingShit!� before scurrying to the spare room while it stretches its eight hairy legs out in the 7x5 and adjusts the thermostat so the water�s more like the temperature of the Patagonian rainforests, or wherever the bloody hell big fat hairy spiders come from.
Needless to say, my fear of the dark and my dislike of arachnid ambushes will mean that I will get NO sleep at all tonight, which will be just like any other night except when its BFs snoring and insistence on ravaging me senseless at every given opportunity (and some that aren�t given)which keeps me awake, I can kind of forgive it.
I fear there may be many many updates this weekend and apologise in advance for any random acts of boringness I inflict on you. The studio is quite a long way from the kitchen and I cant type and eat crisps at the same time so really, dull tho it may be for y�all, you are actually contributing to my weight loss plan in a real and significant way. I thank you all from the bottom (reduced in size, but oh, so firm and toned and smooth) of my heart (black as the night, natch).