the News in Brief (yeh, Riight!)

2006-03-13, 9:48 p.m.
Here I am then � update crazy, with loads to tell but with one Major League hindrance. Last night, BF was "dealing with" the acrylic coating he puts on his right hand finger nails, which keeps them strong and stops them breaking off while he�s a pickin on the geetar. I was just watching and bitching about the smell of the nasty chemical stuff. When he�d finished he asked if I�d like him to do my nails. Why oh why did I say yes? Im now the proud possessor of a beautiful full set of stylish and ladylike false nails. They look fabulous. My hands havent looked this elegant since about 1990, when I could afford to go get them manicured twice a week. Trouble is�I cant type. I cant put my stockings on or do up my buttons. I cant write. I cant pick up small things. I cant use my mobile phone AT ALL. Im scared to put my hands anywhere near my face (in case I have an eye out or something!). In short, all I can do is wave them elegantly about and say "Look at my fabulous nails my boyfriend did for me!"

So, I�ll soldier on with the typing but I cant guarantee I�ll get through all the news without either losing the will to live or dashing to the bathroom to find the nail scissors.

Jooj finally recovered from the Influenza B and went back to school on Thursday. When she got back on Thursday night she informed me that it was Greek Day on Friday and would I please make her an ancient Greek costume. Mater provided a white sheet, I found the fabric paints in the garage (along with two tasseled curtain tie-backs which made a very fetching belt) and, lo and behold, it was all Greek to me by nine o clock Thursday night! Ive taken pictures of my handiwork so might post them here soon however�

We had a major system crash on BFs studio machine on Thursday too which meant we lost every single programme and had to reload the whole lot � from Windows upwards. Mercifully we didn�t lose any actual files (like BF�s dance medley which was nearly finished, or the extensive porn library or any of the teaching documents BF uses for his pupils) but without any of the programmes we couldn�t access any of the files. It took two days to reload everything back on � and when I say everything, I mean everything that BF needed for just getting through the day, so no Photobrowser just yet. Im told it will go back on soon�"but not just yet".

Apparently we�ve got to buy another hard drive so we can ghost it. I don�t know what that means. And I know we�ve already got several hard drives so Im not sure why we need another one but I�m just letting BF get on with it � he seems to know what he�s doing.

Friday I had to take a late lunch so I could go to Treacle�s school to watch a special assembly all about The Great Fire of London. Treacle was playing a reporter at the scene, reporting back to the studio on the progress of the fire. Shagnasty came too and we stood at the back so the sensible mums and dads wouldn�t see us sniggering. There�s something about 6 year olds drama that brings out the very worst in me, and Shagnasty�s not much better. I think it�s the bellowing monotone that does it � you just know they�ve all been told to "Speak up, Stand up straight so your mummies can see you and just remember the words how we learned them". Treacle was allowed home straight afterwards so Shagnasty said he�d take her round to Jooj�s school and then take them out for an early tea. We�d all forgotten that Jooj does basketball after school on Fridays so he was just hanging around for an hour with nothing to do and then there wasn�t enough time for them to go out to tea so they just came home and I made sausage and mash. Shagnasty didn�t stay for tea.

Saturday morning Jooj had a diving lesson so Treacle stayed home with BF. We did the grocery shopping on the way back and I nipped in to my office to pick up all the paperwork Id forgotten (along with my face powder, my hair goo, and my red lipstick which had all got inexplicably left at work on Friday). Then, after lunch, it was off to our first Gifted Children Workshop/Seminar thingy, which was all about air pressure and flight. Treacle came with us but BF was supposed to be rehearsing with the vocalist from the Big Gig support band.

Never have three people fitted into their surroundings LESS than me, Jooj and Treacle at the Gifted Children seminar (or, as Jooj described it afterwards "The Geek Convention"). Now, don�t get me wrong, it was really interesting and we made helicopters and gliders and expanded marshmallows by putting them in a partial vacuum and the girls had a great time but OH, the People! The kids were all, without exception, decidedly ODD � fearsomely clever, without a doubt, but not like real kids at all. It was like that episode of the Simpsons where Bart cheats on an IQ test and ends up in the special school. The accompanying mums and dads were even worse. They were Soooo friendly and welcoming and everything, that I actually feel quite churlish saying this but�. The mums had obviously spent so much money on organic yak hair jumpers and shoes that looked like Cornish Pasties that they didn�t have any money left for mascara. Or hairbrushes. Or cosmetic dentistry. And the Dads! Oh the dads! There wasn�t a man there who I didn�t want to rush up to and scream "Fer God�s sake, you�re a MAN! You don�t need to tuck your sweatshirt in your trousers, which, incidentally are about an inch and a half too short, and you wont Burn In Hell, or spontaneously combust or anything for daring to look me in the eye when you�re talking to me. And Yes! I have got lipstick on, thank you very much, and you probably can work out what my body looks like underneath these clothes but, fer fucks sake, you�re not 14 � how about a little personality here guys?!"

I swear I didn�t flirt, or be bawdy, or do anything that could have been deemed inappropriate ( I SWEAR, I DIDN�T!) but I really felt like I was on some alien planet, where all the women were big and hairy and jolly and macho, and all the men were developmentally retarded and�ummmm�pussy whipped! All the testosterone in the room was being secreted by Jean, and Mary, and Caroline (she SCARED me!) and it was ODD. Odd to the power of Freaky.

The next session, in a fortnights time, is GPS Orienteering. A treasure hunt. We�ve talked Shagnasty into taking Jooj. He�s gonna KILL me.

When we got home, BF was entertaining Chum and his son, who had come round to visit. AND THERE WAS A DOG IN MY HOUSE. There was a Staffordshire Bull Terrier IN MY HOUSE. My utter terror mild dislike of wee doggies has been well documented around these parts and after saying "oh, Hi Chum, Hi SonofChum, how�s things?�ummmm�BbbbbbFfffff�.there�s�.ummmm�a DOG�.In. My. House." At which they all laughed, and I had to go in the kitchen and pretend to do mum stuff so the canine Beelzebub didn�t smell my fear and come bite off my whole leg or something (You know, a Staffordshire Bull Terrier can actually lock its teeth together when it bites you and the only way to get it off is to chop off its head. Its true. I read it somewhere). Jooj and Treacle made a big fuss of the dog which was pretending to be well behaved and not bark or anything. I know it was only pretending. It was just showing off to make me look spazzy. I could tell it was just desperate to snarl and growl and run around me in little circles jumping up at my face and drooling dog drool over me and shag my leg and make me go "Euhhhh! Euhhhhh!" in a dumb-ass way. When they left he was even wagging his tail � as if to say "Im sooo happy I made you look like a big scaredy cat. Next time I come round, you�re Soooo gonna geddit, missy! Im gonna take an unreasonable dislike to you and make you piss your pants by barking really loud at an unexpected time � like when you�ve plucked up enough courage to pat me on the head or something."

Sunday morning took Treacle in to Chigley to get new school shoes. As any parent knows, getting new school shoes takes at least three hours and involves at least one of you bursting into tears. The first shop we went in had a sale on. I found a pair of black Mary Janes with a velcro strap in Treacle�s size. She tried them on. They fitted. They were a tenner. She liked them. We bought them. Thus also buying ourselves three hours of girly retail time to do what we liked with. WooHoo! Bought both girls some clothes (Jooj�s t-shirt says "Cant Stop (Heart)ing ROCK" in silver glitter) and a sweater for BF which is a lovely pale blue and makes him look all beachbum-ish. Got a DVD of A Series of Unfortunate Events � Jooj has read the books and I think they�ll both enjoy the film � just dark enough without scaring the crap out of them. Got some socks and knickers and BOUGHT JOOJ A BRA! She was soooo chuffed she went to try it on straight away. Without putting too fine a point on it, it�s a bit�ummm�.roomy but she�s put it in her undies drawer and will "try it on again in a couple of weeks, mum". Bless her little heart, its only two triangles of cotton jersey (and she couldn�t do it up and had to have help!) � barely a bra at all really, but she hugged me and said "thanks for not getting it out of the bag in front of BF, mum".

Sunday afternoon Treacle had a friend round to play so Jooj and I made cakes and worked on her spy novel that she�s writing. I was in charge of spelling, typing and providing dialogue for the grown-up characters "Muuuuum, what would a teacher say if she was really mad? You cant say "Little Bastard" mum, this is supposed to be a children�s book!"

Made pizza and garlic bread for dinner. Treacle�s little friend brought round loads of pictures she�d drawn for Treacle � all with little mottoes on like "Yu ar miy best frend" and "I like coming to yore hawse" and stuff. Me and Jooj looked at them all and went "Awww. Sweeeet!"

After dinner (and dropping the wee friend off home � I dont know the mum and dad but they seem really nice and invited me into their house. They have a baby with Downs Syndrome who is just the most gorgeous creature you would ever see in your life. I could spend a month just cuddling her and not get bored) the girls got bathed and ready for bed. Then I visited BFs Nail Bar (previously described) and had a few drinks and a smoke. Went to bed. The new nails have a distinct porn star quality to them and so it was kinda weird seeing this Sexy-Laydeeee-Hand caressing BFs boy parts � like watching someone else do it! Its worth keeping the wretched things (despite my inability to function as a human being) just for the extra tweaking, scratching, gouging and stroking capabilities Ive assimilated!

Today was a Thrill-A-Minute at Twat Inc. The new Marketing Manager started today so everyone was all of a fluster. Even BBBM came in to press the flesh and welcome the new broom � who seems OK in a dull sort of way, I guess. Needless to say BBBM was out the door at 2ish, the lazy bastard. About twenty minutes after he left I got a call from him:

BBBM: Oh, Stepfie, Hi! Its BB here. What are you like with bird eggs?

Me: Pardon me?

BBBM: Bird. Eggs. As I was leaving the office I noticed a bird egg on the path. I picked it up and it was just hatching � you know, moving about, so I popped it in the flower bed, but I do wonder if it might have fallen out of a nest in the pine tree (which is in the flower bed). Would you go out and see if you can find it. Perhaps you could�.umm�.

Me: Hmmm. I�ll see what I can do.

So off I go to the car park where I find said bird egg in the raised flower bed. I thought it must be dead as it wasn�t moving around at all but when |I picked it up half the shell was missing and there was a little beak, opening and shutting and a little bit of a foot and a wing. By climbing in the flower bed I could see a nest about 8 feet up. So I went and got some kitchen towel and picked the egg up and ran inside. Most of the personnel at Twat Inc are post-menopausal harpies but there are a few men upstairs so I went to find me a big tall one to help.

IT Manager? totally disinterested and making a creeped out face. Nice IT Guy? wouldve helped but way too short. Army Boy? Eating a sandwich and not too keen but by the time Id explained that the bird rescuing mission had come direct from the lips of BBBM, he did grudgingly agree to come take a look.

He peeped into the foliage and pronounced it "too high up, too prickly, you�d need a really thin person to get in there" etc etc until I said "Oh just hold the egg" and went inside for one of those step-stool thingies we use when we want to change a lightbulb.

By balancing the step stool in the foliage and stretching up through the prickles I could hang onto a branch just about 6" from the nest. I reached behind me and barked "Gimme the egg." And by standing on tip-toe (on a wobbly step-stool, in 4" heels and a satin suit, in the middle of a prickly tree, in a flower bed) I was able to roll the egg back into the nest.

Just as I was getting down I noticed ANOTHER nest, about three feet higher than the other. I hope I put it back in the right nest or there�s gonna be a really pissed off mummy bird going "WTF are you doing down THERE, you little bastard! Get out of that shell and get back up here THIS INSTANT" .

Oh the wonders of nature. And one of my fabulous new nails pinged off and had to be stuck back on with SuperDuperGlue.

At least I was able to phone BBBM back and tell him Id done his bidding. I think the little bird will have died tho. It was perishing cold this afternoon.

S
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