It may come as some surprise to many of you out there, but being pregnant is not always the fun and games it appears to be. Below is part one (as no doubt the next few months will lend to a more complete list) of Heather’s negatives of pregnancy. Suprisingly, this list took about 20 minutes to spew out, before I decided to stop writing it as I didn't want to make myself too depressed...
• The loss of cuddles. There comes a point when a normal cuddle on your partner’s lap starts to resemble the movement of heavy machinery. The owner of the lap has to prepare himself (spread legs to distribute impending weight, brace arms to lessen impact) whilst trying to guide the enormous arse to the right place whilst saying ‘eeeeeeasy does it’. An obligatory moment of both parties regaining the breath after the successful lowering of the pregnant lady is to be expected.
• Getting Up. From anywhere. Be it from a cuddle, bed, the toilet or a seat on the tube. At some point anything resembling stomach muscles disappear and you have to rely on bicep strength to haul or push yourself up. Recently we moved my tv couch to under the spiral staircase so that I can haul myself upright, stair-by-stair, a la monkey style.
• The loss of ‘hustle’. Only last week I found myself unable to even entertain the idea of running for a train that ordinarily would have been my bitch.
• Your ex-boyfriend takes delight in referring to your cute ‘penguin waddle’
• Strangers, particularly women, just stare at you. And I mean staaaaaaare.
• People who say ‘Oh! I bet you are due pretty soon’ and then upon being told it is actually 3 months away try to recover by saying ‘Oh! Aren’t you big then!?. These people are crossed of the xmas card list.
• Tiredness.
• Well dressed people and the fashion pages of magazines become objects of spite.
• Sharp Corners are bigger, small gaps are miniscule and for some reason you keep opening doors into your belly
• You become obsessed with other people’s babies. Need to be stared at for a variety of reasons, mostly to make a mental comparison of how much cuter yours will be.
• The magnetism that develops between your belly and anything you are eating. Such an unbroken daily run has this magnetism had, that at work they have offered to buy me a bib.
• Public Transport in London (tube and bus). 95% full of selfish wankers.
• The ‘Any Cravings?’ Question. It’s old.
• Inability to play the guitar. Especially painful as I was so close to getting that recording contract.
• Uncontrollable body systems. Many to inappropriate to detail (for example – Dave now calls me ‘Foggie Foghorn’). A more socially acceptable one is Hiccupping. For no reason, whatsoever, you are able to release a single, ear-shatteringly loud hiccup. Normally during a meeting.
• That deciding whether it is ‘Good Morning’ or ‘Good Afternoon’ is the least of your concerns when answering the phone at work. Your name and where you are becomes an increasingly difficult concept to relay when put on the spot.
• Low cupboards of pans and the bottom draws on the fridge. Require sitting on the ground for proper access.
• Something akin to fur covering your belly.
• 10 stairs literally leave you breathless for 5 minutes.
• Food restrictions. I expect a crate of pate and cheeses upon my expulsion of the child.
• The ‘Are you exercising?’ question. No. Only my jaw.
• You become obsessed with every pram which is pushed by you. The make, the suspension, how easy they are manoeuvring it through the shop etc.
• Pubs become pointless. Unless sitting in a corner and glaring jealously at all the people drinking beer is your idea of fun.
• And if you do go to a pub, the smell of smoke that imbues your hair and clothes and lungs is sickening. So you lose all cool and become THAT person who bemoans pub smoke.
• When people ask you what name you are thinking of half will reply with a rather depressing ‘Oh. That’s interesting’ or ‘Oh yes. That’s very common now’. Common is not a big deal, there is a reason why good names like William and Jack exist and why parents naming their kid Zububurina deserve scorn.
• Thigh burn. Like carpet burn, but done by thigh.
• The whole business of nesting. Whilst it is nice to have a defrosted freezer and the knowledge that there is no dust behind the dishwasher - when you start turning down offers to hang out with friends in preference of organising your partners collection of single black socks, it has gone too far.
• The gradual reduction of places you are able to go. Anything that does not have the promise of a seat at quick notice is out.
• Having intimate knowledge of what the skin in your belly-button really looks like.
• Those cute little ‘butterfly’ movements of the baby morph into constant and at times painful kung-fu kicks.
• Partners who will never go through what you are going through, yet have the nerve to say that if they did they imagine it would be a doddle. (Note: only applicable to certain, hard-arse-attitude partners)
• Everything can be really normal and dandy, but then you can make a movement you have done a thousand times before, only to have to stop in absolute agony as your back click out of place, and scream as you move through the position to safety.
• That you become fanatically interested in other mother’s birth stories
• People you don’t know touch your belly. And you have to pretend like it’s fine.
• Two words: Pigment Moustache
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Double Your Dan
In a nice little surprise, I had a comment waiting for me from Dan Toop this afternoon. Delightful.
Which, upon receipt, threw me into a bit of a confusion. In line with the weekend's Toilet Roll incident, the hormones pulsing to my brain refused to let me differentiate between who was Dan Toop and who was Dan Noone (note the double 'o' in both Dan's names people). To the point that when I noticed a photo of DT on his website, my brain quite literally went 'Oh Wow! Dan knows Dan! How cool is that!'
(note: it was not helped by the fact that now both Dan's have been known mention 'Lady Boys' on the odd occasion)
Anyway, at some point I figured out that it was possible that they did both not have the same name and were in fact different people and that I might be going a bit crazy. Which has bought me to my next dilemma. How to adjust my links list to accommodate two Dans. Last names are just not the done thing! And to call one Daniel and the other Dan helps no-one. Especially me. And Noonie and Toopy I find too funny to handle with a baby pushing down on my bladder. So unless someone can help me with a better way of putting it, I have settled on the rather mundane differentiation on the left.
(please dont read into the fact that this was probably my most perplexing problem of the day... the day is young.... there is a spanish onion and brown onion sitting at home just waiting for a debate)
On a rather different note, over the weekend my blog saw a number of changes, well - miniscule improvements. I have learnt how to launch new browser windows from links, I have added a photo to my profile and most interestingly I have rather narcissistically got meself a site meter. Which (for you thickies out there) basically counts how many people view my site. I have always been under the impression that maybe 4 or 5 people might look at this on a daily basis and maybe up to ten on a good day. So imagine my surprise when I discovered hat since i put it on, I have had a total of 31 (YES, a scrape your jaws off the ground thirty-one) people have had a look at the world according to heather . I dont even think I know that many people! Which means that it isn't as completely boring as Ben Seamark has been trying to convince me it is. No wonder Dan (Toopy)has written to me plugging his blog as he wisely tries to ride on my coat tails as I take on Google. Good idea.
Anyway, enough of all this. Read the London thing below. It is scary how many of them apply after only a year and a half of being here. As always - comments are adored and petted (even mentioned and added to my links list, hey Toopy)- and advise everyone you know to have a look at this site. Today, 31, tomorrow... 32.
Which, upon receipt, threw me into a bit of a confusion. In line with the weekend's Toilet Roll incident, the hormones pulsing to my brain refused to let me differentiate between who was Dan Toop and who was Dan Noone (note the double 'o' in both Dan's names people). To the point that when I noticed a photo of DT on his website, my brain quite literally went 'Oh Wow! Dan knows Dan! How cool is that!'
(note: it was not helped by the fact that now both Dan's have been known mention 'Lady Boys' on the odd occasion)
Anyway, at some point I figured out that it was possible that they did both not have the same name and were in fact different people and that I might be going a bit crazy. Which has bought me to my next dilemma. How to adjust my links list to accommodate two Dans. Last names are just not the done thing! And to call one Daniel and the other Dan helps no-one. Especially me. And Noonie and Toopy I find too funny to handle with a baby pushing down on my bladder. So unless someone can help me with a better way of putting it, I have settled on the rather mundane differentiation on the left.
(please dont read into the fact that this was probably my most perplexing problem of the day... the day is young.... there is a spanish onion and brown onion sitting at home just waiting for a debate)
On a rather different note, over the weekend my blog saw a number of changes, well - miniscule improvements. I have learnt how to launch new browser windows from links, I have added a photo to my profile and most interestingly I have rather narcissistically got meself a site meter. Which (for you thickies out there) basically counts how many people view my site. I have always been under the impression that maybe 4 or 5 people might look at this on a daily basis and maybe up to ten on a good day. So imagine my surprise when I discovered hat since i put it on, I have had a total of 31 (YES, a scrape your jaws off the ground thirty-one) people have had a look at the world according to heather . I dont even think I know that many people! Which means that it isn't as completely boring as Ben Seamark has been trying to convince me it is. No wonder Dan (Toopy)has written to me plugging his blog as he wisely tries to ride on my coat tails as I take on Google. Good idea.
Anyway, enough of all this. Read the London thing below. It is scary how many of them apply after only a year and a half of being here. As always - comments are adored and petted (even mentioned and added to my links list, hey Toopy)- and advise everyone you know to have a look at this site. Today, 31, tomorrow... 32.
You Know You Are A Londoner When....
1. You say "the City" and expect everyone to know which one.
2. You have never been to The Tower of London or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton.
3. You can get into a four-hour argument about how to
get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Dorset on a map.
4. Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
5. You step over people who collapse on the Tube.
6. You believe that being able to swear at people in their own
language makes you multilingual.
7. You've considered stabbing someone.
8. Your door has more than three locks.
9. You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
10. You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a garden.
11. You consider Kent the "countryside".
12. You think Hyde Park is "nature".
13. You're paying £1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it's a "bargain".
14. Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia.
15. You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent.
16. You pay £3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p.
17. You actually take fashion seriously.
18. You have 27 different take-away menus next to your telephone.
19. The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you.
20. You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
21. Your idea of personal space is no one actually physically standing on you.
22. £50 worth of groceries fit in one plastic bag.
23. You have a minimum of five "worst cab ride ever" stories.
24. You don't hear sirens anymore.
25. You've mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city's air/ water quality and what it's doing to your insides.
26. You live in a building with a larger population than most towns.
27. Your cleaner is Portugese, your grocer is Somali, your butcher is Halal, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Philippino, your bartender is Australian, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was African, your newsagent is Indian and your local English chippie owner is Turkish.
28. You wouldn't want to live anywhere else until you get married.
29. You roll your eyes and say 'tsk' at the news that someone has
thrown themselves under a tube train.
30. Your day is ruined if you don't get a copy of Metro on the way to work.
2. You have never been to The Tower of London or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton.
3. You can get into a four-hour argument about how to
get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Dorset on a map.
4. Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
5. You step over people who collapse on the Tube.
6. You believe that being able to swear at people in their own
language makes you multilingual.
7. You've considered stabbing someone.
8. Your door has more than three locks.
9. You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
10. You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a garden.
11. You consider Kent the "countryside".
12. You think Hyde Park is "nature".
13. You're paying £1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it's a "bargain".
14. Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia.
15. You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent.
16. You pay £3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p.
17. You actually take fashion seriously.
18. You have 27 different take-away menus next to your telephone.
19. The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you.
20. You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
21. Your idea of personal space is no one actually physically standing on you.
22. £50 worth of groceries fit in one plastic bag.
23. You have a minimum of five "worst cab ride ever" stories.
24. You don't hear sirens anymore.
25. You've mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city's air/ water quality and what it's doing to your insides.
26. You live in a building with a larger population than most towns.
27. Your cleaner is Portugese, your grocer is Somali, your butcher is Halal, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Philippino, your bartender is Australian, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was African, your newsagent is Indian and your local English chippie owner is Turkish.
28. You wouldn't want to live anywhere else until you get married.
29. You roll your eyes and say 'tsk' at the news that someone has
thrown themselves under a tube train.
30. Your day is ruined if you don't get a copy of Metro on the way to work.
Monday, August 28, 2006
You can never have too many cookies.
I'm going to start this post (for fear of my life, having not put enough empahsis on how noble it was of her to shave her head) with a big 'Good Luck' to Miss Verity. Who is off to Canberra for intensive training on how to save to world before she takes on Sri Lanka. I wish her well on this first step towards fulfilling her dream. And want to say - in a non-drippy or condascending way - how absolutely proud I am of her. Sri Lanka is one lucky country.
Now that aside... more boring stuff...
So a few good things have happened lately. Firstly, not only have we had broadband installed at home htis week, but we have managed to set-up wireless as well, THe latter being no mean feat.... well, props should be given to Ali for htis. After my hour-long try resulted in a volley of swearwords, he was able ot calmly sit down for half an hour nad have it all pretty, with security and all. The only problem now is that we are still fighting over one computer. Argh. Hopefully this week that will all change.
All is well in London. Today was a typical summer day - it started with a thunderstorm and a few hours later I sit basking in the sunlight. Ali (a uni friend who is staying with us) ran off to the Notting Hill Festival with his new, more-fun, drink-able friends. Although, after attending last year with Benny H and spending hte better part of the day trying to get away from the festival, I'm not too sure if I would be inclined to go had I been in a more party-able state.
Things go well baby-wise (see pic below). We've just entered the 3rd trimester zone (home straight?) and I had my first truely daft moment yesterday: I spent ten minutes looking for some loo paper I had only just 'put away' after a shopping expedition, only to find it much later - not in the bathroom cupboard where it belongs - but nestled in next to the toaster. Of course.
I've been meaning to write a few words on St Thomas Hospital where we are due to 'release the child' and had a tour of last month. We were, in our initial stages of pregnancy, quite wary of the public health system over here, but after seeing the hospital rooms,... well, we can't wait! To begin with: the view from all the maternity suites. Dear God - you would pay £500 a night for this sort of thing in London ordinarily.. It is right on the River Thames, smack bang across the water from the Houses of Parliament/Big Ben. No doubt the post-birth photos on this blog will be an equal mix of newborn and THAT view. Secondly, the size, privacy of each maternity room along with the staff and general facilities were impressive. Each room has a number of weird 'hanging contraptions and balls', a ton of space, and private bathrooms. Plus there are numerous bathing facilities and general cool rooms / garden rooms to chill out in, shoudl you wnat to (Of course, I am planning to go to the hospital, cough the baby out and leave in an hour - so these rooms will not be necessary. Plus care wise, St Thomas Hospital is pretty much second to none in the UK and one of hte best in the world..
Hmm.. ive' only recently had a few people tell me that they try to read this website, but I write too damn much... undoubtedly that last paragraph will have sealed the deal for them to never return.
So on that note, I might cut this one short and promise somthing vaguely interesting in the next post.
Now that aside... more boring stuff...
So a few good things have happened lately. Firstly, not only have we had broadband installed at home htis week, but we have managed to set-up wireless as well, THe latter being no mean feat.... well, props should be given to Ali for htis. After my hour-long try resulted in a volley of swearwords, he was able ot calmly sit down for half an hour nad have it all pretty, with security and all. The only problem now is that we are still fighting over one computer. Argh. Hopefully this week that will all change.
All is well in London. Today was a typical summer day - it started with a thunderstorm and a few hours later I sit basking in the sunlight. Ali (a uni friend who is staying with us) ran off to the Notting Hill Festival with his new, more-fun, drink-able friends. Although, after attending last year with Benny H and spending hte better part of the day trying to get away from the festival, I'm not too sure if I would be inclined to go had I been in a more party-able state.
Things go well baby-wise (see pic below). We've just entered the 3rd trimester zone (home straight?) and I had my first truely daft moment yesterday: I spent ten minutes looking for some loo paper I had only just 'put away' after a shopping expedition, only to find it much later - not in the bathroom cupboard where it belongs - but nestled in next to the toaster. Of course.
I've been meaning to write a few words on St Thomas Hospital where we are due to 'release the child' and had a tour of last month. We were, in our initial stages of pregnancy, quite wary of the public health system over here, but after seeing the hospital rooms,... well, we can't wait! To begin with: the view from all the maternity suites. Dear God - you would pay £500 a night for this sort of thing in London ordinarily.. It is right on the River Thames, smack bang across the water from the Houses of Parliament/Big Ben. No doubt the post-birth photos on this blog will be an equal mix of newborn and THAT view. Secondly, the size, privacy of each maternity room along with the staff and general facilities were impressive. Each room has a number of weird 'hanging contraptions and balls', a ton of space, and private bathrooms. Plus there are numerous bathing facilities and general cool rooms / garden rooms to chill out in, shoudl you wnat to (Of course, I am planning to go to the hospital, cough the baby out and leave in an hour - so these rooms will not be necessary. Plus care wise, St Thomas Hospital is pretty much second to none in the UK and one of hte best in the world..
Hmm.. ive' only recently had a few people tell me that they try to read this website, but I write too damn much... undoubtedly that last paragraph will have sealed the deal for them to never return.
So on that note, I might cut this one short and promise somthing vaguely interesting in the next post.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Have Mercy
OK. So the buzz surrounding YouTube has been growing for some time. And I'm suprised that I've never taken the time to look at the site ~9probabl has somethng to do with the fact it has been banned at work). But the combination of finally getting broadband at home and Laura insisting I watch men dance on treadmills (as genius as it sounds) I ventured forth.... Three hours later, I'm still glued. I dont know whether to kiss the lovely laura or plot her downfall. Either way, I won't be happen until I am old and grey, as it is unlikely I will ever be able to pull myself away from the computer ever again.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
For the General
As the only person (besides myself) to admits to a daily check-up of blogs, I though it would be nice to put a little entry in here for Nadsie Noo. Especially after having such a horrid weekend (does that scare you? That im a gazillion miles away, but that I still know EVERYTHING?!). Unfortunately it won’t be too interesting, but hey – it’s better than what Mez has to say.
•Yesterday I had the realisation that this Christmas I will be able to sign all my Christmas cards ‘Love from Dave, Heather and Freevie’ and that made me have a little awww moment.
•Unfortunately at time I had the ‘awww moment’, I was in the company of Kosta and Ali, two mates that I did honours with at Uni… who stared at me, uncomprehending, no doubt trying to fathom the transition from a particular night two years ago at the Uni Bar and Exeter to a thought like that.
•Though I don’t want to swear to it, as I’m going to leave a final decision for a few more listens – but I think the Christina Aguilera album is a little bit average. Yikes. Can’t believe I ever uttered those words.
•As per above the female name ‘Ella’ has gone off the boil. Leading the race now is the name ‘Eva/Evie’ which I kind of prefer. But the race is long; we are a good couple of months away from D-Day. Thus the thing in my belly has morphed from ‘Fredorella’ to ‘Freevie’. This is largely because Dave’s sister Amy suggested that Ella is the name all the Adelaide spooners are giving to their kids. And Dave ain’t no spooner, dear god no. He’s a rough and tough Bermondsey street geezer.
•Which is why when buying a pram, the idea of getting a Bugaboo (top of the line) was quickly discarded (‘I’d rather shoot myself than be seen pushing that wanker/poofter pram around’ is a Dave quote from this week’s trip to the Borough Market, where the Mercedes mothers, pushed their £700 prams around the market in search of the perfect organic bunch of lemon mint…… a quote that was made as we sat sipping out free-trade, organic Monmouth coffees prior to parted ways – Dave to buy the bulk of Majestic’s wine stock and I to source the perfect organic chicken and dried organic mango pieces….) Thus we have bought ourselves an ever-reliable Maclaren. Which should see us through till 3 years old. Apparently. We will see
•As hinted above, I have finally managed to drag Dave into a department store for a bit of baby preparation shopping. Which was such a fruitful occasion that besides a baby carrier, breast-feeding related items, and a few blankets we are pretty sorted. We have got a lot of the bare essentials (bath, cot, changing mattress, pram, bouncer, sheepskin, muslin squares) and figure that besides the few other things we should get, we will just take it as we go. No need to go over the top, plenty of time and places close to us to get additional stock.
•Patrick Swayze has bean in the UK the last little bit, working the boards in the West End production of Guys and Dolls. It was with horror yesterday that I realised this grave casting mistake – for just down the road is other West End production of Dirty Dancing. What were they thinking!?!? I would pay £100 to see Mr. Swayze tell ‘em that putting Baby in the corner is NOT something anyone does.
•Comments on my Blog make my day. Not in a Clint Eastwood way. But in the way of a lonely girl a thousand miles away from home, whose highlights in life is a new home improvement show being launched, trying all the haagen dazs flavous that god has created, and having a spanking clean pantry.
•Met with Kieran last night for some dinner in Chinatown where he proceeded to claim (adamantly) that Kate Moss recently slept with a dwarf. He even went to the extent of getting the person who told him this to verify the fact. I can’t help but think that this is a little bit too co-incidental, given Kieran’s obsession with dwarves. IN FACT, the first conversation I ever had with Kieran was about his desire to run a dwarf farm with lion-taming dwarves and a dwarf that sat in the ironing cupboard, always ready to iron…
•Ice-Cream is still my lord and master.
•Cricket took a disappointing turn over the weekend. Because Pakistan staged a 10 minute protest over allegations of ball-tampering , the umpires (headed by the overly-zealous Darryl ‘Murali’s a chucker ‘ Hair) decided to stop the match, thereby losing millions of pounds for the game and putting one-day series in serious jeopardy. When will umpires just get over themselves? Just let the game continue and if the ICC wants to penalise Pakistan for the protest, leave it up to them. Don’t ruin the day for thousands of fans. Poor form.
•STILL reading Midnight's Children. May never finish it.
•A big well-done to Lachy and Verity for shaving their heads to raise money for Leukaemia research. I’ve seen the photos on the blogs and you guys look fabulous. Well done. Tre impressed.
Over and Out. Photos are forthcoming. If you are nice to me.
PS. Vote for someone called Damien Leith in Australian Idol. He is my best friend and is really hot and makes guy sebastian look like a tone deaf twat. Seriosuly, if you vote for Damien, you will get into heaven and god will invite you to his Haagen Dazs tasting days.
•Yesterday I had the realisation that this Christmas I will be able to sign all my Christmas cards ‘Love from Dave, Heather and Freevie’ and that made me have a little awww moment.
•Unfortunately at time I had the ‘awww moment’, I was in the company of Kosta and Ali, two mates that I did honours with at Uni… who stared at me, uncomprehending, no doubt trying to fathom the transition from a particular night two years ago at the Uni Bar and Exeter to a thought like that.
•Though I don’t want to swear to it, as I’m going to leave a final decision for a few more listens – but I think the Christina Aguilera album is a little bit average. Yikes. Can’t believe I ever uttered those words.
•As per above the female name ‘Ella’ has gone off the boil. Leading the race now is the name ‘Eva/Evie’ which I kind of prefer. But the race is long; we are a good couple of months away from D-Day. Thus the thing in my belly has morphed from ‘Fredorella’ to ‘Freevie’. This is largely because Dave’s sister Amy suggested that Ella is the name all the Adelaide spooners are giving to their kids. And Dave ain’t no spooner, dear god no. He’s a rough and tough Bermondsey street geezer.
•Which is why when buying a pram, the idea of getting a Bugaboo (top of the line) was quickly discarded (‘I’d rather shoot myself than be seen pushing that wanker/poofter pram around’ is a Dave quote from this week’s trip to the Borough Market, where the Mercedes mothers, pushed their £700 prams around the market in search of the perfect organic bunch of lemon mint…… a quote that was made as we sat sipping out free-trade, organic Monmouth coffees prior to parted ways – Dave to buy the bulk of Majestic’s wine stock and I to source the perfect organic chicken and dried organic mango pieces….) Thus we have bought ourselves an ever-reliable Maclaren. Which should see us through till 3 years old. Apparently. We will see
•As hinted above, I have finally managed to drag Dave into a department store for a bit of baby preparation shopping. Which was such a fruitful occasion that besides a baby carrier, breast-feeding related items, and a few blankets we are pretty sorted. We have got a lot of the bare essentials (bath, cot, changing mattress, pram, bouncer, sheepskin, muslin squares) and figure that besides the few other things we should get, we will just take it as we go. No need to go over the top, plenty of time and places close to us to get additional stock.
•Patrick Swayze has bean in the UK the last little bit, working the boards in the West End production of Guys and Dolls. It was with horror yesterday that I realised this grave casting mistake – for just down the road is other West End production of Dirty Dancing. What were they thinking!?!? I would pay £100 to see Mr. Swayze tell ‘em that putting Baby in the corner is NOT something anyone does.
•Comments on my Blog make my day. Not in a Clint Eastwood way. But in the way of a lonely girl a thousand miles away from home, whose highlights in life is a new home improvement show being launched, trying all the haagen dazs flavous that god has created, and having a spanking clean pantry.
•Met with Kieran last night for some dinner in Chinatown where he proceeded to claim (adamantly) that Kate Moss recently slept with a dwarf. He even went to the extent of getting the person who told him this to verify the fact. I can’t help but think that this is a little bit too co-incidental, given Kieran’s obsession with dwarves. IN FACT, the first conversation I ever had with Kieran was about his desire to run a dwarf farm with lion-taming dwarves and a dwarf that sat in the ironing cupboard, always ready to iron…
•Ice-Cream is still my lord and master.
•Cricket took a disappointing turn over the weekend. Because Pakistan staged a 10 minute protest over allegations of ball-tampering , the umpires (headed by the overly-zealous Darryl ‘Murali’s a chucker ‘ Hair) decided to stop the match, thereby losing millions of pounds for the game and putting one-day series in serious jeopardy. When will umpires just get over themselves? Just let the game continue and if the ICC wants to penalise Pakistan for the protest, leave it up to them. Don’t ruin the day for thousands of fans. Poor form.
•STILL reading Midnight's Children. May never finish it.
•A big well-done to Lachy and Verity for shaving their heads to raise money for Leukaemia research. I’ve seen the photos on the blogs and you guys look fabulous. Well done. Tre impressed.
Over and Out. Photos are forthcoming. If you are nice to me.
PS. Vote for someone called Damien Leith in Australian Idol. He is my best friend and is really hot and makes guy sebastian look like a tone deaf twat. Seriosuly, if you vote for Damien, you will get into heaven and god will invite you to his Haagen Dazs tasting days.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Lachy Does Blog!!
I'm starting to get a bit emotional over this now. It appears that all my favourite people in the world are getting 'blogged-up'. Just Brilliant. So the link is there to the side, or simply click here to get your daily dose of Lachy musings...
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
And then THAT day finally came....
In a week that has seen some pretty poor fortune: the reasons detailed in the entry below…. for the fact that Dave has organised it so that I will be attending antenatal courses all by myself (I am tempted to enter a “The Business: 2947362, Heather:0” here, but unfortunately I lost count of the business’s tally a long, long time ago).
So it was only fitting when in Monday’s mail arrived the one thing which could shine so bright it made all troubles that went before it invisible. Yes, after three long years, Christina Aguilera is back. And not a moment too soon.
(note: To slightly ruin the dramatics of the above statement, I probably should also mention the VERY exciting news that Amy (Dave’s sister) FINALLY gave birth to a little (well, 9lb) boy on Monday who [I believe] shall be known as Ned Footer, Brother of the More Famous Max [like my Barbara Trapiedo reference ? That’s for you Mez!])
(I’m having a slight panic attack. What if Ned is not the name they end up choosing? What if I am not meant to say that name as other people are not yet meant to know? Argh. I don’t want to annoy anyone. Perhaps I should delete it? Chances are they have decided this and everyone knows, BUT…. This running a blog business is a serious business.)&
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So it was only fitting when in Monday’s mail arrived the one thing which could shine so bright it made all troubles that went before it invisible. Yes, after three long years, Christina Aguilera is back. And not a moment too soon.
(note: To slightly ruin the dramatics of the above statement, I probably should also mention the VERY exciting news that Amy (Dave’s sister) FINALLY gave birth to a little (well, 9lb) boy on Monday who [I believe] shall be known as Ned Footer, Brother of the More Famous Max [like my Barbara Trapiedo reference ? That’s for you Mez!])
(I’m having a slight panic attack. What if Ned is not the name they end up choosing? What if I am not meant to say that name as other people are not yet meant to know? Argh. I don’t want to annoy anyone. Perhaps I should delete it? Chances are they have decided this and everyone knows, BUT…. This running a blog business is a serious business.)&
nbsp;
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
The Mighty Pen
This is a somewhat unusual entry, because is not only is it going to be unpleasant (well, THAT is usual) but becasue I write it in an agitated state.
Three or four months ago I wrote an entry on this site that has come back to haunt me. As a result of it, a very good friend has chosen not to speak with me.
In some ways, I have a problem with this (because I am NEVER wrong, of course) as I think the punishment directed at me is maybe sidestepping the issue (?!? Yikes – I could have just put my hand up for another round of hate!!). And I am somewhat hurt because surely the accuser knows me well enough to realise that any upset caused was completely unintentional and unwitting. But I suspect that perhaps this person is upset for the repercussions of that entry and has perhaps found solace in blaming me. Which I am willing to take, if it helps.
But this chain of events has quite shaken me, as I wonder if I should sensor myself more in the future. Perhaps I need to add a disclaimer that ‘events and people may be skewed for the sake of a good story or Heather having a slight flight of madness’.
You see - I wrote an entry on here that mocked someone and painted caricatures of other people. Pretty much like any other entry on here – right?!? And I though it was pretty humorous, that the person at the brunt of my joke would enjoy it. WRONG. So the point is, that as a result of this entry, I have unwittingly and inadvertently upset third parties – people I very, very much like. And I am very, very sorry that I have done this. I did not mean to.
Do people take what I write seriously? I know that those who know me best understand that I indulge in melodrama when recounting anything…. but I worry that those who don’t know me as well think I am a right bitch.
In many ways Im surprised that more than 7 or 8 people read this blog. When I write on here, I write specifically for these people. To consider that wider acquaintances and strangers might read this site regularly is honestly not something I consider happening…
So if you are a person who reads this blog, and yet doesn’t know me that well – be assured I am quite a nice (albeit boring) person. I cry when I come across baby birds that fall out of trees and will surely die. I recycle. I like babies. I love my friends and family in a psycho and unbreakable way. And although Mr. Holland’s Opus is my idea of torture, I still get teary when I think of Christian Slater dying in Untamed Heat
And whilst im into setting a few things straight – I should probably say that Dave (the boyfriend who gets lambasted hereat every given opportunity) is the love of my life and the most wonderful and loving person and that every day I take a moment to bask in how lucky I am that we met each other.
Awww. Aint I lovely?
Pity he doesn’t read this site, I’ve just caused you all to vomit for no reason.
ANYWAY – in conclusion. I talk crap. But from here on in I wont talk crap about other people… OK. People other than Dave. And maybe Nadsie. Actually, Verity needs to be scorned. And Georgia is just a walking target….
Three or four months ago I wrote an entry on this site that has come back to haunt me. As a result of it, a very good friend has chosen not to speak with me.
In some ways, I have a problem with this (because I am NEVER wrong, of course) as I think the punishment directed at me is maybe sidestepping the issue (?!? Yikes – I could have just put my hand up for another round of hate!!). And I am somewhat hurt because surely the accuser knows me well enough to realise that any upset caused was completely unintentional and unwitting. But I suspect that perhaps this person is upset for the repercussions of that entry and has perhaps found solace in blaming me. Which I am willing to take, if it helps.
But this chain of events has quite shaken me, as I wonder if I should sensor myself more in the future. Perhaps I need to add a disclaimer that ‘events and people may be skewed for the sake of a good story or Heather having a slight flight of madness’.
You see - I wrote an entry on here that mocked someone and painted caricatures of other people. Pretty much like any other entry on here – right?!? And I though it was pretty humorous, that the person at the brunt of my joke would enjoy it. WRONG. So the point is, that as a result of this entry, I have unwittingly and inadvertently upset third parties – people I very, very much like. And I am very, very sorry that I have done this. I did not mean to.
Do people take what I write seriously? I know that those who know me best understand that I indulge in melodrama when recounting anything…. but I worry that those who don’t know me as well think I am a right bitch.
In many ways Im surprised that more than 7 or 8 people read this blog. When I write on here, I write specifically for these people. To consider that wider acquaintances and strangers might read this site regularly is honestly not something I consider happening…
So if you are a person who reads this blog, and yet doesn’t know me that well – be assured I am quite a nice (albeit boring) person. I cry when I come across baby birds that fall out of trees and will surely die. I recycle. I like babies. I love my friends and family in a psycho and unbreakable way. And although Mr. Holland’s Opus is my idea of torture, I still get teary when I think of Christian Slater dying in Untamed Heat
And whilst im into setting a few things straight – I should probably say that Dave (the boyfriend who gets lambasted hereat every given opportunity) is the love of my life and the most wonderful and loving person and that every day I take a moment to bask in how lucky I am that we met each other.
Awww. Aint I lovely?
Pity he doesn’t read this site, I’ve just caused you all to vomit for no reason.
ANYWAY – in conclusion. I talk crap. But from here on in I wont talk crap about other people… OK. People other than Dave. And maybe Nadsie. Actually, Verity needs to be scorned. And Georgia is just a walking target….
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Thursday Stuff: 24 Weeks down and counting,
After what can only be described as a day of monster comments (4 in a day!! – have you ever HEARD of such a thing!), I find myself purring and eager to write something in gratitude. Unfortunately, I have very little of interest to say, so I’m just going to do one of those ‘random thoughts’ entries. Which obviously will not be as popular as the baby bump photos, but you can’t have everything.
- we are anxiously awaiting the birth of Baby Footer. Calls from Australia which don’t announce an arrival – whilst very nice – are something of a disappointment. Amy (Dave’s sister) and Mark were due to release span number two onto the world on Tuesday last week…. And still they wait. However I believe there are plans afoot to make tomorrow (Friday) THE day. Needless to say, we will find it hard to get to sleep tonight.
- Im reading with interest the stories of ‘Floor Crossing’ coming from Australia. Perhaps the past 5 years of embarrassingly draconian and morally repugnant decisions by ‘our’ government (and particularly the migration department… although – why narrow down the disaster which is John Howard) has finally become too much for some. The sheep who stood silently during the abomination which was Tampa now act.
- I would mention the Lebanon crisis…but… well….. We all know I’m just going to work myself up and begin a tirade that not many of you would be interested in. I will just say how absolutely sad it makes me when 1/2 of the victims of a ‘war’ are children. What the fuck sort of world are we living in?
- Im not sure if I should be ashamed to say that I have happened across Lily Allen’s album (OK. I bought it) and now have it on high rotation. I now find a new little jump in my step as I make my way to work each morning. The London lass definitely turns a clever phrase.
- STILL reading Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Thoroughly enjoying it, but not finding the time to actually read much lately. However my love of buying books has not been curbed so lately my library has been growing out of sync with my ability to actually read them. Not good. Although, in a few years when we return to Adelaide, no doubt Georgia and Pete will be there ready to help me unpack So I am rationalising the purchase by ‘doing it for you guys’
- I days away from purchasing a Laptop. Which might not seem like a big deal as I suspect all my friends have one already… But I absolutely adore computers (duh) and have spent a lot of time saving up to buy this one. So the feeling is a little bit like making my firt real purchase that I have worked hard to get.
- we are anxiously awaiting the birth of Baby Footer. Calls from Australia which don’t announce an arrival – whilst very nice – are something of a disappointment. Amy (Dave’s sister) and Mark were due to release span number two onto the world on Tuesday last week…. And still they wait. However I believe there are plans afoot to make tomorrow (Friday) THE day. Needless to say, we will find it hard to get to sleep tonight.
- Im reading with interest the stories of ‘Floor Crossing’ coming from Australia. Perhaps the past 5 years of embarrassingly draconian and morally repugnant decisions by ‘our’ government (and particularly the migration department… although – why narrow down the disaster which is John Howard) has finally become too much for some. The sheep who stood silently during the abomination which was Tampa now act.
- I would mention the Lebanon crisis…but… well….. We all know I’m just going to work myself up and begin a tirade that not many of you would be interested in. I will just say how absolutely sad it makes me when 1/2 of the victims of a ‘war’ are children. What the fuck sort of world are we living in?
- Im not sure if I should be ashamed to say that I have happened across Lily Allen’s album (OK. I bought it) and now have it on high rotation. I now find a new little jump in my step as I make my way to work each morning. The London lass definitely turns a clever phrase.
- STILL reading Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Thoroughly enjoying it, but not finding the time to actually read much lately. However my love of buying books has not been curbed so lately my library has been growing out of sync with my ability to actually read them. Not good. Although, in a few years when we return to Adelaide, no doubt Georgia and Pete will be there ready to help me unpack So I am rationalising the purchase by ‘doing it for you guys’
- I days away from purchasing a Laptop. Which might not seem like a big deal as I suspect all my friends have one already… But I absolutely adore computers (duh) and have spent a lot of time saving up to buy this one. So the feeling is a little bit like making my firt real purchase that I have worked hard to get.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
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