mamahog 'n the lets

Up and Downers.

2012-04-22T01:55:00.000+01:00

From here the ground beneath me is stark, clean, and white.

It has sharp straight edges, and its central light, standing erect like a flower Extends in an undulating halo of sturdy, protective, rings.

Anyone trying to get in will have to clamber to reach me.

But one quick vault and I can be away, into the next white space beyond the door.

My footsteps echoing down the bare hall.

I imagine myself dancing here.

There’s nothing to knock down or trip over, except the light.

Which gives warmth to the barrenness,

Somewhere to focus, and heat to my hands.

I have gazed at this landscape and dreamed since I was a babe.

So many of my clearest and my fondest memories are of this place,

Of the clarity and simplicity of a life lived within it.

I feel myself walking barefoot here.

Or just laying down,

My cheek soft against the cold bare floor, listening to the worlds beeps, clicks and distant voices.

And to the silence.

I can lie here for hours, and wish it could be days, weeks, years,

A lifetime.

But then the bloody world turns upside down again,

And I’m forced back by gravity and shit, into a world of tables, books, ashtrays and electrical cable bollocks.

I stumble and trip over assorted debris from last night and this morning and tomorrow.

Back to be ground beneath my own feet again.

Byebye Mike.

2012-02-02T10:00:00.003Z

I have loved you a long time now. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, the inspiration, and the joy. I will miss you, you beautiful fool.

2012-01-15T00:23:00.003Z

So. I've moved to England.

It's shit.

.....

and cold.

and Grey.

I don't have a job, -can't seem to find one despite my vast life experience- and live on VERY little. I'm looking for a job,

and claiming 'benefits'. I'm currently getting £30 less than the 'poverty level'. It's a fairly cool 'social-economical experiment' and a SHIT way to live.

We left about 90% of our possessions in Istanbul as we couldn't afford to ship them. Ex husband and father of kids, NOT helpful.

But we do live. The girls have bikes, and we have a railcard, and enough food.
I passed my first maths exam with 100%. I will start an MA in Education next week. It won't help me get a job, will cost me at least £2500 (which i don't currently have, or foresee having anytime soon) and not actually qualify me for much, but I may at least meet people and learn something. I also volunteer at the school twice a week. And study maths.

I spent an evening with my sister tonight: after 6 months of living 3 miles away from her.

I ate a LOT. And drank a fair a mount of Ginger beer and Gin, which she bought despite her debt of at least £20000.

We didn't smoke. I haven't done so for over 2 months now. I still think about cigarettes about every 15 minutes. Cigarettes are OVER. She's at about a month and having relationship difficulties.

Life's currently SHIT.

I look forward to sleep as it gives me time off from guilt, despair and FURY. unless you count dreams.

I miss writing. Good night.

It’s the same old song…

2011-07-18T19:36:00.006+01:00

Ben yabancigim, ben yabancigim. Ben yabancigim Istanbul da.

Quite a few years ago when I was young and hung out regularly with Turkish film-makers, I had a very stupid idea to make a cover of the famous Sting song: An Englishman in New York. We’d butcher it to become: I’m an alien; I’m a legal alien… ben yabanciyim istanbul’da. We would record a video and become the next summer number one. We had the whole concept worked out: find two other foreign girls, one blonde English rose, dressed in a long flowery dress, the other mini-skirted and Very Sexy. I’d be the middle of the road option in jeans and trainers. We’d spend the video touring Istanbul’s sites. A night restaurant scene, dancing down Istiklal, our hair blowing in the wind as we sped along the Bosphorous in a convertible car in the sunshine, and finally, rolling up a dark, gelled haired Turkish kebabci or the like, in a carpet in the Kapali Carsi and trying to smuggle him home.

They jumped at the idea, and it could have worked too, if I hadn’t worried about tarnishing my coolness for all eternity and chickened out.
So the whole thing fell apart. Thank goodness. How annoyed would I have been if they’d done it anyway and I’d missed out on all the cash and silliness?

I’ve been in Istanbul for well over a decade now. And have had many, many silly ideas to match that. And many more silly experiences which would make for great video.
The Istanbul I came to in ’95 was a very different cat from the one who purrs around me today. But then I guess so was I.

Since arriving as a shy 25 year old I have been single, dated, been single again, been married to a Turkish man, had children, been a separated single parent, found love on the internet, and imported a toy boy.
I’ve had a ludicrous amount of ridiculous jobs, including being employed to test the security of a high profile foreign embassy by bluffing my way in with a spanner strapped to my inner thigh. I narrowly escaped getting shot.

While working with fashion magazines, TV and cinema, I’ve acted in commercials and been dubbed into Turkish. I once played in a pop video next to an old star whose wig got blown into the sea by a helicopter and had to delay my crying scene when I couldn’t stop chuckling.

I was once aggressively pursued by a billionaire, and had his bodyguards frighten off my lovers. I’ve been told I have boobs like oranges by the local muhtar, and I’ve jumped out of a moving taxi outside the Dolmabahce Palace, once it became apparent that was the safest option.

Men acting inappropriately on the street have been knocked unconscious by the same hands that have massaged the rich and famous. Burglars have been chased out of my house by a naked screaming Mad Me and been hit with things both large and metal. I’ve turned the tables on an incompetent electrician and plumber duo by insisting they take off their socks and stand in my newly installed bath to see how long it takes them to be electrocuted. They re-installed it post haste.

The same woman who has had her favourite vibrator stolen by her cleaners, and DEMANED to know which one took her “plastic pee-pee which goes jjzzzzzzzzzzz”, has taught in schools and supervised other teachers. She has taken care of her own and others children. And she has taken solace in her local village and been humbled by the sense of community and freedom it has offered to her and her family freely.

Turkey has given me the opportunity to grow and change with it. To try, to succeed and to fail on a daily basis. And it has given me some wonderful stories to tell. The sense of achievement each day that I am still alive, and have not yet been mown over by a taxi or swallowed by an earthquake are probably reason enough to be glad. But there are always more.

And now after all this time, and with all the beautiful and dreadful people, both Turkish and foreign whom I have met over the years, I have a family of incredible friends, Yemeksipeti, an ex-husband who has turned out to be a fantastic dad, two cats and my two amazing bi-lingual young children who manage to ensure that life never gets dull in an entirely new way.

I’m still a yabanci. Yet I’m also Istanbulu. I’ve gone almost completely native, and I’m home.

Even now as I sit surrounded by a useless paperwork monster, around 3 cubic metres of half filled boxes, bare, stained walls and way too many bin-bags fit to burst. As I send hundreds of emails with two completely separate CV’s to prospective yet unlikely employers in the UK. And as I bite my nails while looking at ugly, small, miniature windowed, overpriced rental houses in Cornwall, and drink a gallon of tea (with milk) per day. This is still home.

Don’t get me wrong… I am very excited about moving back to the UK. We have many very good reasons for doing so, other than just the words ‘Fresh Start’, and real Cheddar cheese. But…

Well just ‘But…’ really.

No matter how many things I may hate about here, like power and water cuts, I’m sure there’ll be as many -if not more- that I will hate about my old and my future home, the UK. After being here so long there are less things I miss about there, than I know I will miss about here.

Burasi Istanbul abi yah. It’s here. And even when I’m not, I’m pretty sure it will remain my home for a long while yet.

So as I finish typing up my little farewell note to her, with more than a tear or two in my eyes, maybe I’ll have to start working on re-writing the words to that old song again… I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an Istanbulu in England.

Sisters Grinn

2011-01-08T16:54:00.000Z

in my absence here, we have been busy here and there...

Being in cities, and making them.
And over the last year we have all been very busy writing and drawing and painting stuff.
And today i believe it's time to share, or at least begin to.

But first, does anybody remember this? It's from way back when i first started to do underpants, and actually did. blog.
The 'lets were only four at the time, and we spent most of our time at home :):)
And they spent almost all their time painting and drawing and building, and were just beginning to write.

Nowadays they are 8. They go to school and rarely get home before 5pm. They have ballet class on Saturdays and i have to share them 2 nights a week with their dad. Which all in all leaves us precious little time for much of anything frankly!

But they do still manage to produce the odd bit of brilliance, and i'm going to share some of the stuff that's made me smile recently. (transcribed exactly as written on the originals)

First up are some recent Fairy stories from the Sisters Grinn

The Cauli flower cheese monster

By Loveday Grinn

The cauli flower monster was very weird. When ever he was hungry he would eat himself. But when he would eat his body the body would grow cauli flower again. But he was actually a cauli flower cheese monster. So then one cheesy morning the cauli flower cheese monster woke up and decided to try something else to eat. So he went out, he saw a bug and tried to eat it, but it was yucky so he went on. Then he found a turtle, he tried eating it, but it was hard to eat. Then he found a human. He tried eating it. It started to cry and cry and cry. Then he stopped, he couldn’t do it. It was to young to die so he went home and ate his body.

The leaf Eater

By Yashi Grinn

Eleynie was looking forward to Christmas and wished she would get a puppy. Her mum and dad said a dog was too expensive. They said that because they knew she didn’t believe in Santa Claus. Eleynie didn’t spend much time with them because they had so much work to do. She didn’t think it would be a very good Christmas.

On Christmas morning Eleynie ran to the living room and looked under the window (her mum and dad didn’t even care to get a Christmas tree). She saw four presents. She opened them one by one and none of them were a puppy. Then she heard a munching noise coming from outside. She looked out the window. She saw a puppy. It was starving. That’s why it was eating leaves. She brought it inside.

Her mum had said she could move whenever she liked so she decided to. She would bring the puppy with her. She packed her stuff. Then she gave the puppy a name. it’s new name was Stanley. Then she found a new home.

I will be posting some of this years art work later tonight or tomorrow. :)

has face on her egg.

2010-12-18T16:03:00.002Z

when mama was a little more 'Dog' and a little less 'Log'

2010-05-20T18:08:00.004+01:00

It's been 5 years since half-nekkid-Thursday started. I got on board almost a year after it started, in March 2006 with this self portrait of my arse:

bodily-functions-and-toilet-humour is the post that went with the arse.

I managed to keep it up (and pert) for about a year, on and off.

Here is the link to my last real HNT.

and one of the photos:

I still have the dress, the beer and remarkably, the shades. but no longer do i have the time, or the same habits. Also the arse has expanded slightly.

I'd love to get back to it. and to the writing.
but for now, i'll just be content with the desire. and the little reminders.

Thank you to Osbasso.
and to all the other HNT'ers with whom i have had so much fun with in the past. It's still a lovely idea, and i really do appreciate it very very much.

For more nekkidness sidle on over to my hnt tag.

Because nekkid time is funtime!

*

the knocky downy kitten club.

2010-04-26T08:42:00.008+01:00

Three months...?

It's rather ridiculous i know. but things are good. so that's something.

We've been busy.
The girls Love their school. although i'm still hammering my head on the fence about whether it's worth $20,000.
i like the new Doctor Who much more than i imagined i would.
i've joined a gym.. and like that EVERY bit as much as i imagined i would. in fact MORE. and still sing about it during times i'm not there, loudly, a lot.
Rob's got a job he really likes, plus he's still working at the school until june, which he hates. but we have enough money to eat meat again rather than lentils and beans everyday. so that's a plus.
i've recently spent a lot of time shouting at the po(+o)p(-e) and British politicians on the comp and telly.
Which is Always Fun.

Also, we have a new cat who isn't exactly new anymore. Our Beloved Fatboy was never returned to us, and we Still Miss Him Terribly. however after about 7 months of mourning tearfully and calling the Thieving Fucking Cunts in Samsun only to be Lied to, we met a Starving scraggly Little alley-kitten near the bins. and began to let go, while letting a new one in.
and that's what i will present for your viewing pleasure today.

The highly (honest gov'nor) edited pictorial life story so far of Gabriel Bernard Richens Orangejello Cheddar Mashup MacGregor.

FILTHY. even after his first bath.

Now that's more like it. Fluffness.

"ooh can i knock that down?"

"Ugh Humans. did you forgets i has CLAWS?"

"i is pwetending to be 'angelic' good huh?"

"Hmmm mine growin boneses luvs these gas pipes unders de carpet"

"is dis sofa shwinkin? or amz i gettin large?"

With age comes not just fat but also wisdom....?

Maybe Not.

"Anyway.... we have a new (read: 2nd hand and FREE thanks to my lovely friend Funda) sofa, which has plenty of room for big EIGHT year OLD Girlets. and MEEEEE!"

"paws off, she's MINE!"
*

And there you have it. some evidence of Aliveness in Us during the last 6 months.
Next time i'll be showing you some ART!
Let Art in fact. which makes it even more Brilliant. EIGHT year oldLets ART. they are EIGHT!!!
eight i tell you. how did That happen??
freaky.
but Bloody Marvelous.
*

R.I.P

2010-01-02T13:18:00.003Z

sob.

Don't blink!

2009-10-31T15:33:00.010Z

Blink and you're dead.

Don't turn your back

Don't look away.

And don't blink.

Good luck.

Who blinks?? I'm too scared to blink!

but here's two more... i just can't resist ;)

we luurve halloween ;)

happy all hallows all!
xxx

excuse me. hi... yeah.

2009-04-03T22:28:00.001+01:00

so hello. do you remember me? i used to come here sometimes. a while back.
you may have read me.
or not.

yeah, scraggy hair/spelling. and no capitalisation.
yeah i do do that. sorry.

i know yes, it is rather annoying. i do actually have a pretty flimsy feminist story to fail at justifying that actually.

no?
you don't?

ok.
sorry.

so um.

well...

the thing is, i am finally alone for an evening. rob is on a bus braving bulgarian border controls for his visa and the littlets are snuggled up in sleeping bags in a camp at the foot of my bed.
i kinda decided to sod the allergic sinus thing and pour some shandy and well, i've turned off the telly, put on some damien rice and i feel like i can actually finally actually say hi to old friends, and even consider updating my long neglected underpants.

would you mind?
really?

bugger.

i was sort of counting on you to say 'yes'.

anyway. sod it. you're here now..

life with twin ludicrouslets , dying computers, a partner who's a now a mostly unemployed, at home all day frustrated yet inspired-to-write Mac-Hog, too many things to do, or not do due to television and self-inflicted ennui of an evening, and cat stealers has meant i haven't actually aggressively shoved the boy off the seat in front of the computer and sat down alone at the one remaining household hand-me-down mac long enough to do anything but read mails and annoying news articles or rush off lesson plans or crap magazine articles since before christmas.
ugh.
but at least i am still able to write the worlds longest sentence in 2 minutes flat.

and apart from the dying and dead computers and cunty cat stealers, and lack of writing on underpants purely for my amusement, life is good ;) if a bit lot skint.

and i still sing a lot.
which helps.

but i do miss my fatcat*. and writing.

but enough about me.
sorry, it's been so long. i just needed to vent a little.

so what about you?
how are you doing?
no really... i do care.

really? yeah... i know you've told me already.
but i haven't read, or visited, or yes...
sorry.

yeah i'm crap.
i'll try to do that now.
really.

no really. i will.

ok, yeah.
so um.
cheers. thanks. bye.

for now.
i'll be back soon. ish at least.
no i will. but yeah, right, i'll check how you are doing first next time.

oh, um. yeah bye.
was good to...
ugh catch up.
later.
cheers.

*

fuck i miss him.

somebody's stolen my cat.

2009-03-11T22:02:00.001Z

and the bastards have sent him to samsun, to some sick mother.

bastards.

there will be blood.

oh yes i did eat too much chocolate orange, stuffing and figgy pudding and custard.

2008-12-26T00:20:00.004Z

happy christmakkah!

from your loving nearly middle-aged-new-aged-humanist-agnostic-atheistic christmas loving lush.

am shlightly pished.

i got vodka and chocolate. the lets got a sheep brains to dissect and remote controlled flying stuff. macyummy got a book and chess.

and we all got fat and tired and huggy.

hope you did too. ish.

kisses.

edit (one vodka later) : apparently i'm actually a pantheistic-nearly middle-aged-new-aged-humanist-agnostic-atheistic christmas loving lush.

re-edit (after a good sleep, orange juice, and two cups of earl grey) : or not.

geniuslets

2008-12-04T18:17:00.003Z

let1: "if nothing existed and before anything was, what colour would it be?"

me: "ummm, maybe black?"

let2: "no. because black is a colour and if nothing existed there wouldn't be colours yet"

sigh.

the bile before the storm.

2008-11-25T14:06:00.003Z

i should write something clever here.

also i should go and make dinner out of all the organic veg that's rotting in the fridge.

i should sort out all the scraps of paper lying about in 4 bags, spilling off the desk, and covering shoes in the hallway.

i should also be able, by this ridiculous age, to afford to send my daughters to a school where they don't get hit, punched, pinched or scratched every day, have their lunch thrown on the floor or get sent home, because schools been cancelled at the last minute, with a stranger who then, finding noone at home, leaves their lunch outside my front door, takes them back to school, leaves them there with some other strangers, and doesn't inform me, their dad or my partner despite having all our mobile phone numbers, AT ALL ALL BLOODY DAY.

but i'm too fucking angry.

so i'm going to cry, and swear a lot instead.

cuntingshittingarsefucks. haven'tgotafuckingbraincellbetweenthem.
screwingaroundwithmydaughters,i'llgivethemafriggingblollockingthey'llneverfuckingforget.
arsingfuckwits. bunchoffuckingpenises. crappylittledipshits.
gggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

and have a beer.

the beautifulets will not be attending school tomorrow. but i will.

but first i'll get out the dictionary and work out how to say the above in turkish. and some.

cocksuckers.

A day in the life.

2008-10-08T17:30:00.001+01:00

or That which makes it all worthwhile...

in the ever cosy darkness of the 'letroom, two warm, single beds, pushed together and tied with ribbons and an old spotty hairband have a dip between them. this depression, filled with soft excess quiltage and two little stray hands cushion my body perfectly on each side.

another hand rests light upon my throat, as another gently caresses my cheek.

and one of their owners quietly whispers

"you are the best mummy in the whole wide world mummy."

"and loveday is the best sister."

and rob is the best............ mummy's friend."

"i love you so much."

"here, have some money. it's for you"

"and here's one for rob too."

"i love making you presents. and being generous."

"i love you."

earlier in the day we went to school. i to sing, wipe noses and teach the putting on and off of shoes to nine 2 year olds over and over again all morning.
them, to write 11 pages of useless surf.

they cried as soon as i picked them up, telling me once again how they don't like their school, or the pushing and shouting it appears to involve.

we drank fresh lemonade at the health food shop while we discussed how rubbish but necessary our respective schools are, before buying ingredients for tomorrows packed lunch and walking home to do another two hours of our english home-school comprehension and maths measuring work.
they showed me their perfectly made beds that they'd made themselves this morning after i left at silly o'clock. they fed the cats again. then i did the dishes and not yet enough of the laundry, cooked cauliflower and blue cheese soup, and organic roka and tuna quiche with sauted potatoes while they built cities and covered the front room with chair towers and ninjas and man eating sharks.

we ate together, talking to our new turtles and watching them do gymnastics and dive practice.

we called our favourite birthday boy back in blighty, and tackled the monstrous demolition and tidy up job, and then teeth, pyjamas on and off to bed to read stories and sing songs as we've done each night for the last 6 years.
while the best mummy's best mummy's friend made the lunches and stacked and wiped.

i still have washing to hang out, and wash, and iron and put away, and school plans to write, and underpants and photographs from this (and last summer still) to edit, and a piece to write for the local magazine, about how once you've been fortunate enough to have a maid to clean up after you and iron, you become frankly incapable, and desperately call her name at least twice a day when she leaves for a two month much deserved holiday.
and the paper monster on the desk is spreading.

but the lovelylets, restless and still chatty, stroke my cheeks and tell me how much they love and miss me, and beg me not to leave them, ever. while i sink slowly between the beds and feel so full of pride and joy and love and worry that my heart could burst. and i tell them that i am exactly where i want to be.

but if i'm completely honest, i could also really murder a vodka and a fag.

bad language.

2008-10-05T15:37:00.002+01:00

one of my daughters just said baths are lame.

lame!??

i blame the resident yank and camp rock.

grrrrrr.

what a lame post.

now obviously, MY laughable punctuation, crap spelling and minimal capitalisation are sort of done on purpose. kind of. like...

2008-09-10T16:15:00.001+01:00

but how on earth can anyone (or group of anyones) possibly be capable of running a pretty bloody large country if they don't even have a good enough grasp of the English language to understand analogies, even ones they've used themselves in the recent past?

it begs the question, (as they have used the same analogy themselves) whether or not they have a friggiting CLUE what the fuck they are talking about.

well no, actually it doesn't. they just don't.

i'm sorry that i feel the need to say this, all my lovely american friends, (i'm not really saying it to you as i'm pretty sure any of my friends reading this feel exactly the same way... i just needed to rant as i've had another shit september day and feel like taking it out on here and on someone who deserves it- not you...) but your republican party are a bunch of cuntybrained arsewipes who will do everything they can to hurt anyone who doesn't agree with them. which appears to mean about half the country.

ugh.

palin doesn't mind destroying the environment in alaska (never mind the rest of our planet) to bring the price of oil down.
and honestly, is that really something that's top of the list of priorities???? the price of oil???????

after all, it's only that price because the oil companies like being rich.

oil SHOULD be expensive, not to make the bastards rich but because it's a limited resource and we should be concentrating on weening ourselves off our addiction and finding alternative methods of making ourselves lazy, fat and toasty.

also, both palin and mccain want to ban abortions. they both want to even make contraception be seen as abortion. they both want to force women to carry babies they don't want and overpopulate the world even further. just because they don't like it.

and apparently because palin has been picked, now women will vote for them?? really? are they completely mad??? she obviously has absolutely No sympathy or empathy whatsoever for most women in america. she has said nothing so far about the fact that america is one of only 3 countries in the world (along with Papua New Guinea, Swaziland, Lesotho) which don't provide paid maternity leave for women as standard. she has said nothing at all about all the children born without healthcare.
because frankly, she's alright. and she doesn't give a flying fuck if anyone else is or not.

but what really pisses me off most (insert sarcasm here) is that they think nothing of using bad grammar, tropical storms and smear campaigns based on utter nonsense to get what they want.

they are as loopy, narrow minded and hateful as scientologists.

and they scare the crap out of me. (just like scientologists)

i like americans. i'm in love with one, and i'm very fond indeed of his family. and i love at least 3 others, my children are american citizens. and i'd quite like to maybe be able to make them all happy and spend some more time there in the near future.

but frankly, if half of america's voters allow those horrible illiterate phonies to continue in power i will have to put my foot down and say no!

No! to my babies doing trick or treating or thanksgiving.
No! to all that gorgeous thick cut smoked bacon you make so well.
No! to learning a few of the rules of fumbleball.
No! to pecan pie (ouch... this is getting painful)
No! to family reunions (ughaaaaooooooooowwwww!)
No! to beautiful wide open spaces (kkkkkgggghhhhhuuuugh)

it hurts.

and not only that, but what the fuck will the freaks do to the rest of the world?? it's too terrifying to even contemplate. so far in their last 2 terms in office they have managed to kill hundreds of thousands of foreigners and american soldiers alike.

it just makes me shudder.

so please, i beg of you, give peace, freedom, marginally cleaner air and family planning a chance.
do not let the bastards pull you down.

or make me and my family endure another four years of me shouting vulgar remarks at the telly everytime the fuckwits come on the news.

i promise i'll also take the necessary risk and vote our ridiculously crapfilled british government out too as soon as i get the chance. and i have to add, obama has really cool ears. that's totally worth voting for. all our british alternatives look like they've been hung upside down for 2 hours, and i'll still vote for them any one of them as long as they''re not labour. (ugh that hurts too)

ex-brownies honour.

with lipstick on.

buggeringcuntingshitforbrainsarsingfriggitybollocksingtosspots.
gggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

oops sorry. must turn off news NOW.

and stop reading the 2008 GOP platform (pdf)

or at least buy earplugs for the innocentlets.

bugger it all. september is crap.

2008-09-03T13:31:00.004+01:00

we hate school.

yashi most. every day she cries. embarrassed, she hides it, and wipes away her tears silently, until someone asks "what's wrong?" and then she breaks down in unstoppable sobs.

loveday tried to be strong for her sister, and me. joined in as much as she could. but now she develops tummy aches. bent double, crying in pain. "can't possibly go today", but is cured within half an hour and forgets the hurt, once told she can stay home.

i peel tiny fragile hands away from my arms. fake smile and cheerfully tell them "it will be ok. i promise. i love you. see you soon."

and then i leave. i go and teach someone else's children and watch them all go through the same.
i take calls from their teacher and listen to the sobs down the phone.
and cry myself, as soon as i get a moment alone.

i hate school.

i have nightmares. i awake in tears, after falling from great heights and losing my grip on babies who are pulled down faster, further, away from me.
nightmares where i cant stop swearing, and my children say "oh for fucks sake" when things go wrong.
nightmares where i tell white lies to my children and can't find them again to say sorry a moment later.

then i'm awoken by cries from their bedroom, as they have woken too, sweaty and scared of indescribable monsters who took them before i could save them.

all is not well in hogland or letland.
september sucks.

we all hate school.

hotness

2008-08-03T21:23:00.003+01:00

we've been busy being strange.

and hot.

and up to our necks in sorting out the craploads of crap that are crapping up our home.

and computer.

will post something more coherent and interesting once i've deleted, sold and chucked out said crap and can actually find my mind.

now, where is it?

(this is where you'd be able to click on a link and listen to the pixies. if my mind had been found, and it had space to search for a site to host it for me.)
(or actually, i suppose then it wouldn't be relevant anyway.)

so if you have any pixies, play some now.

if you can find it.

hair today...

2008-05-23T20:30:00.001+01:00

gone tomorrow.

the lovelet just got even cuter :) and now i feel as if my heart is going to burst.

my darling bravelet was so insistent that she wanted her gorgeous locks cut off "just 'coz" that i had to give in. but we couldn't find a style we all liked. until we walked into the place, saw the lovely german girl who worked there, and loveday leaned and whispered in my ear "i want my hair just like hers. only without the glasses, and without the old"

for now yashosh is happy to keep her beautiful tresses long. and as long as we do lovely, pretty things with them, she's gorgeous enough to keep people looking at her too, and not just freaking out about how fabulous loveday's new cut is.

of course it helps that's she's funny.

and the bribe/promise that i'll let her dye a couple of streaks semi-permanent pink, once i find some cool hair dye, also helps.

grimm fairytales. to put you to sleep.....

2008-05-01T16:51:00.002+01:00

once upon a time in a land far far away, lived an aging swellhog and her two beautiful young daughters. despite being delightfully happy, busy and productive, they all occasionally, secretly wished for a fit, interestingly talented, yet decent bloke too do household chores, play ticklegames with and generally enable them all to sit for hours in front of crap telly. they were not even aware at the time that they wished for this. but deep down they are pretty sure they did.
during the peaceful hours of eventime, once her brilliant offspring had drifted off to their sleepy dreamworld of mermaids and luke skywalker, the swellhog, who hadn't yet begun to swell, would sit and write cackhanded stories about their lives.
she would illustrate her tales with amateur photographic snippets, and absolutely wonderlet drawings which depicted their humble yet exotic seeming lives quite adequately given the dodgy equipment.

lo and behold, one particularly busy day, the secretly wished for decent bloke actually bloody appeared, as if by magic from the stalkernet, by way of contemporarymail.
the swellhog was almost too hassled at the time to notice as she was busy packing for a freebie weekend break to blighty with the current diversionary tactical male.
but appear he did, and despite being properly fobbed off for a dirty weekender, he continued to write his support and funnies. and upon the swellhogs return, she, in characteristic twatiness, gave away way too much information, and their friendship was sealed.
the beautiful young daughters, never happy to be left out, joined in whenever they could, sending pictures and soundbites, and monkey textspeak galore.

before long the three, far, far away unladylike ladies had enveloped the more than decent bloke into their peculiar weblife, and, after months of romantic yet completely nerdsome correspondence, the virtual lovers finally met. our more than decent bloke sent a bounty with which his hearts desire could purchase the means to fly across the ocean, to be near him, and meet with him at last.

the swellhog had stopped eating lunch for months and spent hours and days in the worlds most expensive gym, sweating and starving. she swam and sunbathed compulsively and even began painting yuckstuff on her nails to get into peak physical perfection in order to wow the decent bloke. and wow it did.

when they met, they fell into each others arms, and despite the difference in space and time, and the seriously fucked up shoulder ache, drugs and love did the wonderful things that drugs and love often do, and lusty love blossomed.

but before long our lovely lusty pair had to return to the reality of different spaces and times. and already swellinghog boarded her plane and was returned to her two most precious loves, her beautiful daughters.

for over half a year, these lovers talked each sunrise and sundown. they wrote the words they had each fallen in love with across the world. and they waited and planned, and dreamed of the day they would be together. more than decent bloke, visited, once halfway across the world, at the land of our heroines own mother, and once at her own birthaversary, until finally it came. the day he would come at last, and stay.

two days before the most beautiful girls in the worlds birthday, decent bloke made his biggest voyage yet. the biggest adventure of his life. the one in which he would become a member of that far far away household, and start doing the chores proper like. starting with making the birthday cakes.

happily ever after is a myth as we all, by now, surely know. that doesn't mean it has to be unhappily ever after either though of course.

adapting to a supposedly exotic country is never easy, what with the bloomin power cuts 'n shit. and fitting into a close knit family of three (albeit flipping fabulous) women for a decent bloke can surely be no picnic either. but our hero performed amazingly, as we never doubted he would.
accepting a bloke in, no matter how decent, and having to give a toss about what he thinks about stuff and actually remember to listen and tell him things is not easy either for an independent swellinghog.
and as for those superb little wonderbeings, the greatest daughters in the world, it surely cannot have been a bed of roses having to share swellingmummy. or have another person to notice misdemeanors and tell them off in loud bloke voice.

yet each and everyone of our heroines and our hero, made a life together worthy of cheese. they found one another across a world of difference, and struggled and laughed and bitched and shouted at and with one another in their exotic sounding home consistently for over a year.
and they were happy.

then one day, they decided it was time to all go together to visit decent blokes own family. time to fly together over the seas, to meet his delightful mother, and father and sister, and her own glorious offspring. the date they set was a year to the day of very much more than decent blokes arrival in their home. they found tickets which wouldn't cost them a kings ransom, and contacted all the kings men to make sure that there would be no problem just paying the hefty fine for having overstayed their tourist visas at the airport, as had always been the rule of the land. our swellhog was not in the least afraid as having been a visitor herself to this land for 12 long years she had paid many a fine every time she left almost, and was always welcomed back for the mere ten spondoolies she graced the visa dude man's sweaty palm with.
having been assured of a safe return by one of the kings women, the swell family set off for the western lands not quite as quietly as the neighbours would probably have liked in the middle of a sultry pitch black night in the late spring.

only to be told by one of the kings very sleepy men at the home of the great winged creature that would whisk them away to the western reaches, that they would be banished.

banished. for months and months.

they left their far far away exotic sounding land, banished. a year to the day of their wonderful beginning of a life together. and took wing across the worlds blue waters to the western lands slightly in denial.

a fabulous holiday was had. despite the in denial swellhog's mutinous lumber region, and the consequential taking of many many drugs and the highly embarrassing use of a wheelchair for museum trips. they bought dinosaur eggs, and remote control spiders. they ate swell flabblob inducing foods, and blue candyfloss. they spoke with birds, and americans. they met an elf, a girl with a magic finger, and their brilliant elder brother and sister, and even an olivia. they saw an orangutan with an ear fetish and got plants that eat bugs. they celebrated the incredible daughters sixth birthdays with fantabulous new grandparents.
and after frantic letter writing and phone calls with consulates, the swellhog and her most wondrously beautiful progeny took flight once again, back to the far far away lands thoroughlyish unbanished.

but they had to leave their very much more than a lot decent bloke behind. and kiss him goodbye.
for three long months.

and now they sit. decent blokeless, skint and rather a bit more than fed up.

and the once romantic correspondence that brought our currently star-crossed lovers together continues. slightly less romantic now, and a bit more bloody annoying.

but they will endure. and one day not toooooooooo far from now, these miraculous lovers and their wonderlets will meet once again.

in a land far, far away.

*

it's been a hell of a month. it's ongoing.
but the fabulets are evermore wondrous.

so that's something.

and now they are six.

i hope all's well in all the other far far away lands.

g'night.

i pledge never to swear my allegiance to

2008-03-11T19:24:00.003Z

fuckwittage like this.

but i'm always happy to swear at it.

how bloody DARE they????

making our children pledge allegiance to the queen?? what the friggitybollocksing hell do they think they are playing at?

and don't even get me started on singing 'we are the pantsing crapsong world'.

what a bunch of dimwitted cuntybrains.

arsing tosspots. can go stick their shrunken shit-for-brains down their beloved majesty's corgi's lavatory.

and i'll happily flush it while they are at it.

fucking muppets.
.

rosbif sans frogs.

2008-02-20T15:48:00.007Z

ok i know heat rises 'n shit. but i never appreciated until now, how much the downstairs neighbours heating warmed my tootsies.

and they've only gone and moved out.

my feet are frozen.
and i detest wearing slippers.

and i miss practicing my french by listening in on their private conversations in the backyard.

ma petit pied est geler?

is that right? it doesn't have quite the same ring as 'ma petite culotte est mouillée'
and now my spelling. grammar and accent are just fucked.

poo and oui.

i miss them.
i'm a call em and beg for their return.
or at least for a cup of tea and fromage at their new maison.

and i hope we get cool new neighbours soon.
who like to be warm, and are partial to screamy elephants overhead.

white out.

2008-02-17T01:23:00.004Z

snow is falling. it's a blizzard out there.
my cab ride home alone should have been scary but somehow wasn't. booze makes us resilient.
my shoulder (5 old slipped discs) is achy.
the house is empty and cold, and i gravitate toward melancholy music as always.
there's cat shit on the bathroom mat.

yet snow always makes me happy.
and booze makes us resilient.
and numbs pain.
the house is empty because my children are staying with their father who they love, and my new love is playing poker with his new found mates just down the road.
melancholy music makes me smile and sigh.
and i'm brilliant at ignoring cat shit.

the wind is drumming a rhythm with the plastic crap and bits of broken tables and chairs left on the balcony, and the playlist is looking up.

i'm out of touch, and a little annoyed with myself for letting life take over.
but i forgive.

because i'm busy. i have the worlds best buffers. and i saw some fabulous films and danced like a twat.

and later we will all dress up woolen toasty, head outside, and make an igloo.

life is good.