snippets of gossip and John Galliano

2007-12-05, 7:52 p.m.
Just a quickie while I wait for BF to come home from the pub�story of my life, that one!

Anyway, here�s the latest.

As predicted, I made a suitably speedy recovery from the jaws of death�OK a cold�..whatever, they�re practically the same, aren�t they?...to go to the V&A with Sis on Saturday. Oh, it was a lovely exhibition. If you live near enough, I would urge you to go and just drool at its fabulousness. Oh, and GET THIS! Despite all the other exhibits being from the �Golden Age� 1947-1957, the very last room was a giant leap forward in time and was ALL JOHN GALLIANO!!! I could have stayed in there for a week. Instead, I am now firmly resolved to have Mr Galliano design and make my wedding dress. There are only a few things stopping me. I don�t ack-chew-ly have that sort of cash hanging about. And I don�t, like, actually know him quite well enough for him to make one for me for nothing. I mean, Im sure he would. IF he knew me. Cos I am quite nice, and terribly enthusiastic, and look good in a corset. And I would actually wear the dress he made for me EVERY SINGLE DAY UNTIL I DIE and not just for my wedding like an ordinary dress.

No fair.

To console myself, and because it was nearly 3 and we�d been gawping open-mouthed at couture for four hours solid, and because we were starving, we went off into Kensington for a little light luncheon. Butternut squash soup (spicy, creamy, but not too heavy), fillets of lemon sole in a caviar sauce, with crispy saut�ed potatoes and buttered green vegetables (heavenly!) and a cream caramel (because I am a pig!) all for �12.50 ($25)!!! How cheapo is that! For Kensington! I was so chuffed, I washed it all down with a couple of whisky sours as I wasn�t driving. Walking back up to the tube station, through Knightsbridge, it started to snow. Gangs of tourists all gazed skywards outside Harrods and Ooooh�ed and Aaaah�ed like it was some special festive show which Mr Al Fayed had put on for their delectation (probably called �Diana�s Christmas Tears� or something!). Im sure the pickpockets made more in the ten minutes before it turned to needly icy rain than they�d made the whole of the rest of the afternoon. Sis and I elbowed our way through the crowds. We aren�t easily impressed by a bit of precipitation. Ended up walking as far as Hyde Park Corner to get the tube as Knightsbridge was scarily jam �packed, in a disaster-movie-waiting-to-happen kind of way. I wasn�t desperate to feature on the 6 o clock news so we just kept walking.

I kind of wish I�d had time to do some shopping � I haven�t shopped in London (apart from the odd trade show with BF) since I was StepfordWife � and I kind of miss some of my old chargecards haunts. Ah well.

The birthday party for BFDad kind of went OK. Suze�s children were vile all afternoon. I find it difficult to comprehend that her children and mine are the same age. They constantly bicker, whine and backchat. They are openly hostile, dismissive, disinterested and demanding. Nothing appears to make them happy. I talk to them in the same way IO talk to my own children and they are reasonably civil in return, but to their parents and to each other, they are vile. Meh. The little bastards.

BFDad sat in his wheelchair the whole afternoon and looked alternately bemused, amused and bored � not necessarily at appropriate times. Suze fed him with some of the dead cat chicken korma and the Victoria sponge and cream but he just looked like the whole thing was waaaaay too much effort for him. Im not sure how many of us he recognised, or whether he knew where he was.

Later in the afternoon, I blocked the sink up using the new waste disposal and a disgusting greasy cold curry �soup� bubbled up out of the plughole and refused to go back down. It wasnt good. BF used one of those compressed air canisters to try to clear the blockage but only succeeded in blowing the seal on the pipe under the sink and horrid cold greasy curry soup flooded out onto the floor, which emptied the sink, but not as we had hoped. I went up for a shower. The shower pipe leads to the same drain as the sink pipe so the sink filled up again with cold greasy curry soup�and shampoo.

Monday morning, BF went to the plumbers merchants and got some sulphuric acid. A big squirt of that down the pipes and all was well. Im now forbidden to put anything harder or larger than a single amoebic gravy cell down the waste disposal, and certainly NOT any almost whole naan breads

*ahem*

Monday night was the jewellery party so the new kitchen was full of women admiring the tiling and buying little trinkets for Christmas presents. Jooj and Treac were allowed to stay up and help, so they got to choose some goodies, too. I got myself a necklace and, when I went to pay at the end of the evening, realised that I earned commission on everything everyone else had bought. How cool is that! I just thought it might be fun to have a few pals over and try on earrings for a couple of ours, I didn�t really see it as a money making exercise. Anyway, by the time Id received my �hostess gift� (which I also didnt realise I was entitled to!) I got around �60 ($120) worth of jewellery for �23! Oh and my dad gave me a tenner towards the kids� stuff! Yay me!

*Gasp* I almost forgot to tell you! About 8.30, Suze�s friend J turned up�.but no Suze. J didn�t know where she was and she wasn�t responding to text messages. J and I spend the time wisely while we waited for her: Bitching about Chum�s brother and what a loser he is and how Suze is better off without him and he is a cunt and a lowlife and how you can take the man out of Shitsville but you cant etc etc etc.

You can see where this is heading, cant you.

Suze arrived about 9ish. Looking harassed.

Oh. You KNOW, already! How did you guess?

Yup. She shagged him. He wrote her a letter explaining his feelings for her and where he think it all went wrong for them, mainly - He loves her very much and she shouldn�t listen to what her friends say about him.

It was a very cleverly worded letter, in which he continued to take no responsibility for the break up (so, calling her fat and selfish and a bitch and getting her to remortgage her house and buy him a Mercedes were all acts of LOVE, were they?). After the jewellery party, Suze asked me what I thought. And she asked me to be honest.

I said I thought he talks a good story, he�s too fucked up to sustain a normal relationship (just like his moronic brother), he WILL hurt her again and she�s clearly retarded to even consider going back to him. Then I pointed out to her that she is an adult and knows her own mind and must do what she feels is right.

BF has not forgiven and forgotten. He has told Suze that if she gets back together with him, he�s not welcome in our house. That�s strong words from BF. EVERYONE�s welcome in our house.

Let see how this one pans out.

Later

S
x




back - forth