There's a greatness in my lateness!

I've been a bit backward about a lot of things in life ; didn't get married until I was 30, have a baby until I was 34 or even qualify as a lawyer until I was 32. What was I doing before that? Dossing about on farms and doing a bit of travelling I suppose....spent a lot of my 20's feeling pretty "stuck" and learning to shear sheep !.

Anyway - in my grand tradition of all things slightly retarded, I'm starting my own business for the first time now! And today requires my first big comitment I'm going to buy the books. Even for me a three thousand pound (yes you read that right £3000) spend on books is a bit alarming - but if I'm going to have even a hope for producing the right court forms in July it's got to be done - eep! Also going to print off the business manual and have a look at business telephone and internet packages - pretty sure what I'm going to do , just need to make certain and do the ordering! Please let me get some work after all of this!

Domestic Godess

Well after Pink Drama's slanderous comments about my baking skills I'd better set the record straight - I bake! I'm the sort of saddo who takes home made brownies to work and gets asked for the recipie! At the moment (which is part of the I'm a lardy size 14 problem (that's 10 US I think??) ) the cake tin contains both a nice lemon drizzle cake and some little raspberry/coconut numbers. I bake my own bread too...

Tonight my mate S is around for a girlie night in so I thought - pork stroganoff, with some nice new potatoes out of the garden and some green beans . Nice Pinot Grigio to go with perhaps? What do you think??

'Tis the season

It's summer (almost) so that means village fetes and agricultural shows and all that sort of bollocks!

And as it happens today the TB is off to Ipswich to the Suffolk show, so wave if you see him, and me and the AB are off to a church fete. This means that in a minute I need to go and make a cake! It also means that torrential rain is pretty much a certainty so we will take wellies and an inflatable boat.

Lovely lovely massage yesterday - an hour of being rubbed firmly with bergamot and eucalyptus oils, divine. The perfect bloke would be a six foot four brickie, who was also a trained masseur and yoga teacher - don't you think?

No obvious getting rid of anaesthetic after though - head down the U-bend or not.

Beauty Parlour Therapy

Apparently if you have a massage within a month of a general anaesthetic , then after the massage you can smell the anaesthetic when you pee! - well after this afternoon I shall be able to tell you if this is true or not, as I have booked myself into the beauty salon for a bit of a "de coke and pull through" - or massage and hair cut to give the more accurate, polite version.

And in a further development will attempt to walk the dog around the allotments without him being swept away by a tidal wave!

You can see from the picture of the dog the serious nature of the "short leg issue" so I'll let you know how we get on.

I'm also madly jealous of Pink Drama's pig - I've owned sheep and chickens in the past but never a pig. A pig would be excellent!

Chavtastic!

In a restrained moment - 37" telly - the Curry's bankholiday weekend deal as seen on the telly!

And to be fair it does look very nice. So that's that then.

In more advice to the post-operative, don't go to your friends birthday dinner "Just for a couple of hours!" because even if you are home well before eleven o'clock you will still feel like shit on a plate for the next two days.

It has rained so much in the last two days that even the dog doesn't want to take the dog for a walk. He has very short legs and given the extent of the rain it would be more like a swim than a walk , but all the same, a rare day indeed!

TB has to go back to work away again tomorrow and honestly - just want to cry. Not sure what happened to the old stiff upper lip - just overtired and emotional maybe!

What's Happening?

Well not much really that's the trouble with convalesence it's a bit bloody dull!

Also not a linear curve - so having attained the dizzy heights of "walking the dog round the allotments!" on Tuesday, I did it again on Wednesday, not knocked over by searing pains and faintness and had to go back to bed!

The magic 5lbs hospital loss is sneaking back on - mostly because I've been eating bread...I know really stupid but I was hungry. So bloggers you are my witnesses - no bread for a week and see what happens OK?

In other news - off to buy a new telly! The current one was a wedding present in 1992. The estate agent reckons that our poxy telly is putting people off the house because you can't see the screen from the far end of the sitting room. But is a 40" LCD telly unspeakably chav? ( or Charv as I'm told it's correctly pronounced!)

Breakfast!

It is the most comforting breakfast in the world;
a thick slice of white toast, buttered and spread with Frank Coopers Oxford Marmalade. Coffee made with hot milk and one spoonful of sugar, a glass of smoothie for the health nazi inside all of us.

This morning I indulged, I ate it slowly, relished it and now have fond memories of it.

And at 522 calories for a small plate I know why I don't have it all that often!

Today

My entire life is not being squandered to shit television I promise - although today I discovered "Breaking up with Shannon" in which Shannon Docherty - you know the bitch monster of death from Charmed and Beverley Hills 90210 - tells people their other half wants to split with them because they are too gutless to do it themselves. It's like watching a school disco circa age 14 - classic stuff.

Because I've been arguing with the TB (the usual I'm reckless/he's boring tussel) "Katie and Peter the Next Chapter" got vetoed - Jordan's his type of girl I would have thought, less on the basis of the tits and more on the £43 million...

Anyway in other news - people keep calling round for morning coffee...who knew people actually had time to do that? Why aren't they at work - seems a bit rude to ask really.

Did try to do some work - possibly swayed by the fact that client is incredibly attractive German tv director - who I'd like to carry on working for when I'm self employed...nothing like the odd missive from the sick bed on some vital but esoteric point to keep them keen I always find.

I'm in the mood to say "toodles " at this point - but this is all getting a bit too arch isn't it?

L x

Reality....

"'Reality,' sa molesworth 2, 'is so unspeakably sordid it make me shudder.' "



And never was a truer word spoken by such a tiny child. I have become addicted to all things "Reality" I am the poster child for the Living TV viewer - this is awful, as of tomorrow I'm readin books.


http://www.stcustards.free-online.co.uk/prospekt/prospekt.htm

Mentoring!!

Well I've been watching Beauty and the Best avidly, and in the spirit of the divine Janice D I feel it's time that I passed on some of the knowledge wot I have gained in my life to you lot wot are clearly in need of my wisdom. So here we go with;

"Lippy's Top Ten Tips For Life."

1. Buy your cashmere from Tesco's - this so that when your husband or cleaner inevitably puts your favourite sweater through a boil wash it won't be necessary for you to kill them.

2. Keep your tounge in your cheek at all times - not only does this preserve a healthy outlook on life but it stops you shoving your tounge down the throats of unsuitable people.

3. Earn your own money - more misery is caused by people who won't or can't or are waiting in the hope of someone else's money than almost anything else. And if you have 3 months salary in a high interest account you can tell the boss to "Fuck Off" whenever you like, which is marvelous!

4. Treat Honesty with the Respect it Deserves - keep it for court rooms, most other times it's not strictly necessary. A bit of tact and kindness may be less holy but it makes the world spin on it's axis a lot smoother.

5. Only have friends that you really like - you can't hide this trait and it may make for you missing a few social climbing parties but it has two huge advantages, (1) you never have to spend an evening with people that you don't like unless you are getting paid for it and (2) your friends who you really like are truly flattered by this and keep you close and pampered.


6. Know how to Look After Yourself - If you can look after yourself other people look after you better than they otherwise would. If you are cooking for a good cook you make them your best meal don't you?

7. Try All the New Stuff ! - OK not stuff but experiences, travel, jobs, careers - keep moving then they may not catch up with you!

8. Small Cheap Cars = not crying when a pissed off opponent keys it in the court car park. ( a really good mate of mine drives a Ferarri, the security system that the insurance company insisted on for his garage cost more than the car)

9.Everyone knows something useful - although you may spend a long time wondering what it is.

10. The only thing that actually works for split cuticles is cracked heel balm.


I never said it was wise or useful, but there it is!

L xxxxx

In the Spirit of Compromise

Healthy fun eating??? - ok I spent the morning dipping strawberries in melted Lindt chocolate but do you blame me?

Grilled goats cheese salad for lunch was pretty yummy.

I've got to the point with the "sort out the computer" campaign where I've emailed the office IT totty and asked him to come around and help......well you know, old biddy in distress, might even work???

I walked the dog round the block this morning - but then felt knackered and had to sit down. I've knitted half a cardigan which just proves I'm obsessive and ordered some gay fiction from amazon - well it said "The British Maupin" and if that's not the same thing as "the holy grail put your credit card number in here!" I don't know what is?

OMG - Role Model!

OK, I have some stuff to face up to and plenty to do to keep us out of the poor house but girls I think I've just found me a role model...I know it's a symptom of too much day time tv (and that is so not a good look), but it has to be JANICE DICKINSON!

I know, I know , I can hear you saying it; "you are five foot five and a size 14 ( on a good day) or 16 on a bad one , you have serious motherly tendencies and curly hair. Janice? You're delusional love!"

Janice is a tough bitch, she never turns out looking what she feels is less than her best and she has more guts than anyone ought too.

Like I said, I know, but I have to get seriously fit and get serious about it to get through this. No more comfort eating chocolate and feeling bloody sorry for myself. The fitter I am the less shitty this will be - so good food, rest, sensible exercise for now - then really fucking exercise exercise later. I am chanelling the confidence that the business will go like a rocket and the work ethic (which I already have) to make bloody sure it does. And I can derive some twisted pleasure from watching Abby Clancy suffer at the hands of my heroine in the mean time.

Today's dilemma

Painkillers stop the pain - this is a good thing.
Painkillers also give you shit like rocks - this is a bad thing.
Constipation makes the pain worse so more pain killers are needed.


.....off to eat raisins and bran...................

Stuff to do...

I won't pretend , it's not nice knowing there is more surgery down the line.

But, there is a load of things to do between now and then, I have a house move to organise, a new business to get going, and I have to recover properly from this lot and get fit before the next round.

I do realise that the first step in all of that is to relax and chill out a bit - at the moment, I'm not sure if it's all the drugs, I'm more than a little buzzed, it feels not dissimilar to having just got back from a long haul flight. Post-operative jet lag?

My aim this week is to sort out the drives on my computer and get everything tidy and saved onto external drives - so all the contacts are in one place, not split between the comptuer and the rollodex, and everything on the PC is also on the lap top and backed onto an external drive. So a tidy start for the new office!

I also have to work up to two ten minute walks a day- up to two twenty minute walks a day by end of week three.

Anything you're not clear on I'll be taking questions later!

Honeys I'm Home!

Well back in the land of the living and there is good news and bad news:

Good news; the cyst is gone and I only had laproscopic surgery so no big cut.

Bad news ; the lining of my uterus has gone walkabout around my pelvis and I have endometriosis everywhere, to quote my surgeon "plastered with it" - this will randomly bleed into my abdomen until we do something about it. So I get hormone injections from monday - two lots, one lot to induce the menopause and the second lot to deal with the symptoms. This should shrink my ovaries and uterus and stop the endometrium bleeding. It also lets the doctors check whether the endometriosis has already caused damage to my kindeys or bowel (how lovely) - then in 8 to 10 months time I have to go back in for full hysterectomy.

Blimey if I've been this much of a drama queen so far how bad will I get now!

Slept v badly last night - woke at 3 am and couldn't get back to sleep - so off to spend the afternoon watching back to back episodes of Hotel Babylon.

The injection thing means I still have to take my full convalesence this time so they can see how everything settles down.

And you were hoping to hear from me before you read this - but now it's made you feel a bit ill!

It's tomorrow

It's very hard to post at the moment because there is nothing especially interesting or illuminating about being scared shitless.

And when I break it up it's more than one fear it includes;

1. Being scared of the actual procedure itself - the idea of someone rearranging my innards and being put under anaesthetic, I really don't take well to loss of control.

2. Fear of the pain afterwards..definatley bigger than 1.

3. Fear that I will cock up badly on one of my files today and that work will have a marvelous time bitching about me for cocking up after I've gone...the only good thing being that as my sick note is for six weeks it coincides with the rest of my notice so I won't be back. That is my only consoling thought, being paid £960 for the next six weeks for sitting on my arse.

4. Fear of the frustration that is going to inevitably follow being able to do bugger all for six weeks, can't swim, can't have sex, can go for walks ...you know the sad getting better progressivley longer walks. The walks will be OK, apart from week one when getting to the end of our drive is going to be a challenge they tell me - super!

Chillin'

I spent this weekend at a yoga retreat, getting my head together ! It was very cool, communal catering of the "bring a dish" variety is always generous and fantastic quality - lovely salads and dahls, and our one and only boy (why don't boys do yoga?) had made tikka wraps for everyone , declisious !

The whole age range was there from teenagers to grandmothers. The grandmothers being far more bendy than the teenagers on the whole. So I spent part of Sunday morning walking backwards with my eyes closed in a room full of strangers..proving that when you do that you bump into fewer people than going forward with your eyes open but looking at the ground.

Now - my knees hurt from lots of warrior flow, and I'm a bit sad thinking it will be a while before I can do a lot of that stuff again. But determined that I will do it again.

Discretion forbids

and professional ethics prevent me from telling you what a complete, utter selfish bitch a certain member of the aristocracy was today - and I suffered from the full effect. So I will say only one thing "Lady my fucking arse!"

Nana (2)

My Nana's other famous line was "Never let it be said your mother reared a jibber!"

Which was applied variously to mean :
Don't be such a wimp
Don't be such a lazy git
Don't be such a wimpish lazy git
Don't let anyone find out that you are a wimpish lazy git

Things my grandmother used to say..

I'm originally from Stoke, as I think we have established, where not only do we have a strange accent (cue Robbie Williams and Garth Crooks ( or Crewkes in local parlance) but also a strange turn of phrase.

For example on seeing one of her grandchildren reaching for a third cream cake my Nana ( I had a Nana) would say "You eat that and you'll be as fat as a little tonky pig!"

Question: What in God's name is a tonky pig?? And for a supplemental , why tonky?

Dancing in the Kitchen

A combination of things got me pondering this - Beastie's childhood remenisences post and groving to Gwen Stefani in the car on the way to school with the AB. My strongest childhood memories are all about listening to songs in the car, and dancing around the kitchen to the radio.

In fact i've always thought that when (not if obviously!) I am invited to be on Desert Island discs I shall chose my 7 records by people, and be fantastically nostalgic. So in a sneak preview here they are ( and God do they date me!);

Downtown, Petula Clarke - not so much dancing in the kitchen with Mum to this one, but singing. Just hearing the introduction brings a clear picture of my Mum, 29, blonde and pretty damn gorgeous actually, singing her head off whilst burning the dinner.

A Little Love and Understanding, Charles Aznavour - my Dad had one of those Peugot 307's with three rows of seats in which he took us all to school, singing along to this in fake French accents. Wogan still plays it in the morning occasionally , which is truly terrifying!

Prime Time, The Tubes - Is time travel to a top floor flat, in Dundas st, New Town, Edinburgh, where me and my mate S lived in palatial , freezing squalour thinking it was all fabulously decadent darling!

Heaven, Psychadelic Furs - I lived in rural Staffs as a kid and so learning to drive was a huge deal - don't drive = don't get to go anywhere. This song was played really loud on a dodgy cassette player whilst hurtling round the stunning staffs moorlands countryside in my best mates bright yellow 2CV.

Find my Love, Fairground Attraction - TB's song , ahhh

Fall At Your Feet, Crowded House - played until the tape broke, afterAB was born and we brought her home from hospital, listening to the song and just sitting looking at her.

Rattlesnakes , Lloyd Cole and the Commotions - there is a stretch of road between Perth and Margaret River where the tarmac runs out and you hit gravel through bush , play this song, and keep an eye out for kangeroos.

Getting Away with it All My Life

I really hope Paris Hilton does her time in jug - equal treatment for all before the law, whilst I know not often achieved in practice is still a noble aspiration and if justice can't be seen to be done in this simple case then heaven help us!

And actually PH getting 45 days has cheered me up no end.

45 days also being the expected length of my convalescence - or at least the length of time before I can swim, and take the dog on long walks. So who will make the best use of the time baby???

Paris will have to share a room - but will probably be in an open prison with lots of facilites.
I'll be at home with books, knitting , a computer - and a spot of organising to do. Hmmmm...

Most annoyingly can't do any house work AT ALL for 3 weeks, this includes putting stuff in the oven - I may die!!

Big Wimp

Some people are genius when faced with problems, witty, urbane totally unself centred they write brilliant sparkling blog entries without a trace of self pity.

Unfortunately I'm not one of them. Let's be very clear here, when it comes to needles, hospitals and anything that comes in a white coat I'm pretty much scared shitless. I'm not sure whether this is because I come from a family full of medics, or in spite of that fact. Give me a grumpy old judge and a stinky, sweaty court room any day of the week.

I don't actually get admitted until 16 May and I'm already disappearing up my own arse in the proverbial puff of smoke. I keep looking at my belly and thinking how can there be something the size of a v large grapefruit in there and me know nothing about it! That would be over 4 months pregnant size of foetus and I certainly knew about that. But no, the usual standard size 14 jeans still fit....wonder if I'll go down to a size 12 after???

Face Book

I am now "On Facebook" as it is the preferred method of communication for a couple of my cousins - why they can't just email like everyone else?

It doesn't work for me - I'm too old, no one I know is on there, their kids are - which is a bit potentially embarassing.

But it set me thinking, when I left University I buggered off to Western Australia and didn't see any of my mates from there or school for 5 years. And I'm not sure that I particularly cared.

Once you are on face book or myspace (and you are the right age) everyone you ever knew can find you - you are permanently linked in to your school, uni and work networks. Which may be great.....it may also be not so great because you never get the chance to reinvent yourself, you potentially can't change without audience participation. It's kind of strange. Particularly for someone like me who, whilst I'm fine with being sociable I'm less good and having sociable thrust upon me. Hmm ...also on face book all the chicks look like godesses - wonder if they do irl ?

If you aren't on "the Book" and want to see what I'm whittering about - let me know and I'll invite you.

Side issues

I'm taking today off work. The point I haven't mentioned in relation to my upcoming hospital visit is that fact that at the moment I'm in pain all of the time, it varies from a dull ache like a bruise to feeling as if someone is giving my uterus a chinese burn. The latter causing me to sweat, feel faint and want to be sick (lovely!)

Yesterday however I needed to be in London for two meetings - which however useless I was in them, I was still going to be better than the next best alternative.

Both went OK. But I feel like complete shit now and I'm not going anywhere today and probably not for the rest of the weekend.

And to add to the joy - saw my sister's mate who is a doc who said " 3 weeks off work isn't very long for this, lots of people take 6" - I nearly started crying again.

I do realise that I am being a complete drama queen about this in this blog, in real life I'm not so someone has to suffer and I'm afraid lovely person reading this - IT'S YOU!!!

The future's bright????

I did manage to take my head out of my own arse for almost long enough to try to help someone else today...unfortunatley the attempt failed miserably.

A mentally disordered person is (according to Chapter 8 of Chitty on the Law of Contract) bound by his contract unless he can prove both of the following;

1. that he was not capable due to his mental capacity of understanding the nature of the contract which he was entering into

AND

2. At the time of making the contract the other person understood that he was under an incapacity.

I can't prove 2. because Orange are saying "he sounded fine to us when we sold him the ludicrously expensive mobile phone over the telephone the other day" - he patently didn't because he doesn't ever really sound fine. So the guy with learning difficulties, for whom I act ,is royally shagged to the tune of two grand. This problem is so bad that MIND locally beleive that some Orange sales people are actually targeting the mentally handicapped on PURPOSE! - nice.

If anyone else has a bright solution to this I'm all ears and have no ego on the point!

Stumper!

It has suddenly occured to me that not only am I going to be hacked up and messed about, but I'm also going to have 3 weeks off work when I'm not going to be able to do very much at all....

So to avoid a day time tv addiction of epic proportions is there anything you can suggest? So far I have come up with the following;

- off to the wool shop in a minute for wool needles and a funky pattern.

- trying to remember if I have any mates who don't work and can therefore come and visit me