"Okay, so our house is burning down and you can save me or the cake. Which do you choose?"
This, dearest Safs, is what I want to address with you today. Which do you save? I learnt an important life lesson yesterday whilst buying cake with Ieu. A lesson I especially needed.
One of the things that I love the most about my Husband is the way he talks. I love how he exaggerates and expresses himself. I find him hilarious and interesting and it's great! However. I do sometimes misinterpret what he means when he says certain things. You see, ever since our wedding, he has been hankering (nb. NOT hunkering) after cake because he didn't feel that the delicious bite he had at the cake table was sufficient. Of course, for me, The delicious bite I had at the table was enough- I loved the cake and would happily have had more but I didn't REALLY want it badly. He did- or seemed to. At various intervals, on and off for the last 2 weeks, he has expressed a desire for cake in the following words; "Mmmmm....cake", "MMmmmmm....I want cake" or just " CAKE!". Now, you, like me, may have assumed that he REALLY wanted cake. SO, when we wrote the weekly shopping list, I suggested we put cake on the list. Next scene: Morrisons in the cake and sweet treats aisle. Ieuan and I were eying up the cakes. I was in a rare "GIVE ME SUGAR" mood and rather fancied a nice bit of sponge. We were looking at a coconut cream sponge and a victoria sponge. I could see that the decision was going to be difficult so, because he was the one who had wanted cake for such a long time, I left him to choose the cake he wanted while I went to get bread. After I had collected a few more items, Ieuan returned with two trays of millionaire shortcake and a pack of mini rolls. NO cake. I asked where the cake was. He said he wasn't getting any. Now Millionaire shortcake is my all time fave. I also expressed a desire for the minirolls so, assuming he'd done a Ieuan and chosen the things that I would have liked best, I did a me and asked him to take one of the trays back and get some cake for himself. Quietly he did so and came back with the coconut cream sponge. "Now, are you SURE that you absolutely want that cake? There isn't another you would prefer?" He looked at me exasperated and said "Can you please trust that I am happy with my choice?". With that, we did the rest of the shop.
Later that day I raised the issue of cake with him. As it happens, he didn't need cake, he just fancied some and the mini rolls would have done. My constant cake pushing for cake made him think I wanted cake, so he chose the cakey things I would like. In my head, I was thinking that I would never care enough about cake to dominate the decision making process- I would be happier if he chose one he wanted. In his head, he was thinking that I had been telling him to buy cake for ages so I must really want it and he wants to share this cake with me and so he will get one that we both like. See? Men, women and cake.
A tricky combo.
After our chat and after the light dawned on me, we made an oath. My oath went something like this "I hereby pledge that I will never again assume that Ieuan is desperate for cake and I will trust that he is happy with his decisions. I also pledge to be more decisive." His was, "I hereby pledge that I will never again make a decision based on what I think Rachel wants without checking whether she would be happier if I made the decision based on my preferences or not". In the end, pledges aside, we agreed to always put the other first and, next time the subject of cake comes up, to communicate more clearly. Now we have a box of 15 mini rolls, 1 tray of millionaire's shortbread and a coconut cream sponge to get through. So glad the exercise regime kicks off tomorrow!!
Learn to understand each other before you buy cake. It will save time, and possibly money. =)
AAO
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Sunday, 29 April 2012
(Jessica)- "If you die young, waiting for my blog posts..."
...I'll lay you down in a bed roses, I'll sink you in the river, at dawn and sail you away to the words of fantastic thoughts from my head. You like that mountain ninja? You like the taste of my bronze sword?!
Okay, I'm sorry. I am sorry that it has been so long since I have last blogged. There is no excuse, other than the fact that whenever I had the time... you were home. Did I hear someone say pointless? Yes, me.
CHILAQUILES!! I have never been more happy to reply to your posts when they have such inspired titles! A bulwark is a wall? Who knew?...Oh my gosh there is far too much to reply to in your posts! Why did you do 3? I mean, I didn't reply. Get a microscope and look at the hints Sherlock! In good Lara Croft style, time was stolen from me and no matter how many times I locked the groaning butler in the freezer, I had no way of getting it back. But guess what? Now that you are married I find myself with a huge void...so guess who is going to blog post drop-kick you?...Yeah, still not me. I have coursework.
So, about your wedding, it was a fantastic day wasn't it? It was chilly...but no doubt from the warmcuddlyglow-stares you and Ieuan were swapping you didn't feel the cold did you?
Anyway, whilst you were getting lost in his eyes you missed out on some serious news. I have now usurped you in the Cain household (children-wise). I am now their favourite and they love me. They were telling me this as we were getting ice cream. I'm going to spend a weekend over there for a play date. That's right my friend. I have a play date. Don't cry.
Haha you also missed my Ever After moment, "Prince Henry: Am I to understand that you find me arrogant?"...(What Danielle would have said if she were me: "Yes, and it's very annoying *and stupidly attractive*") Remind me to tell you about that some other time. Seth and Kirsty know what I mean.
I'm trying to think of things that have happened to me since you've left...and even now my mind is blank. My life is interesting I swear, but nothing blog worthy of yet.
Someone said to me today, "Text-bomb her. Tell her you miss her". Hahaha can you imagine?! Me texting you to say that? Absurd. So I whispered back (in my head), "I'm not sure that you know this...but we share a brain. She knows."
I have heard that you are poorly! As am I!! Oh the sadness! I walked home from work almost 2 weeks ago and as it turns out I have formed into a cross between a horse and a husky... Horsky... anyway... Doctors tomorrow. Hopefully Doctorette Antilla can save me.
It may have come to your attention that we had the BYU singers staying at our house Thursday night. Which meant I had to give up my room, and my beds to some girls. They were a really nice bunch actually and joined us for midnight ice cream when they got back. But nevertheless, I had the living room floor, which I don’t mind so much, what I did mind was my awakening.
Picture this: You are waking up all blurry-eyed and dropping in and out of sleep, you can faintly hear Sam and Caitlin around me and Mum and Dad. Nice, no?
But as I finally came around my ears fuzzily heard Dad saying something about a visitor…
And then hearing, “I have sisters, don’t worry. I have seen it all!”
My sleepy mind thought, “Whoa now. I don't know who you are just yet, But I'm pretty sure that I am not your sister…so it’s irrelevant whether or not you’ve seen it all because you have sisters...that is no excuse to see me in whatever state I am in...because I'm not your sister!!!”
One eye reluctantly pealed back to see Tim Kay sitting on the two-seated sofa. My sleeping mind whirled as I tried to bury myself into our carpeted floor…As I usually sleep in a large shirt…and the zip to the sleeping bag I was in often broke… I tried to casually sense if my legs were bare or not…because if they were…and Tim didn’t move, I could very well end up being in that sleeping bag for a very long time. Mercifully I had the insight the night before to wear my Bermuda legged tracksuit trousers. I still wasn’t totally comfortable with “bear hunt-ing” (stumble trip stumble trip) my way out of my confused array of sleeping bag, blankets and pillows with him 2 feet away from me. I made some confused sleepy mumbles to make it seem like I was asleep, and incoherent, but my mind was alive with how this would make a fantastic Miranda episode. I felt like poking my head though the blankets and pillows to throw a sarcastic and slightly terrified look to the invisible camera, followed by a little shake of my head and a “this cannot be happening to me” whimper. But at the time there was no such saving grace to make this situation even slightly funny. A few seemingly witty remarks were made by the recently multiplied men in the household about teenage laziness as they walked out of the room for breakfast…little did they know I had mapped out a battle plan in just a few, world record long, minutes to ensure my safe passage out of there…either by making him leave, or getting myself out. All of these, minus number 3 and 6, require total body and face coverage whilst remaining immobile…
1. Cry. It is a truth universally acknowledged that weeping women scare most single men.
2. Pull a Rob. German chanting, Russian threats.
3. Project Pony-launch. I was tantalisingly close to Caitin’s pink play horse…No, you’re right. Bad idea.
4. But I’m a Gilmore. No one can argue with myself like I can. Voices and everything.
5. Ghost voice. “Timothy…TIMothy…TIMOTHY!!”
6. Staring competition-...almost this the portrait from Scooby Doo that stands in the haunted Mansion. That would promote some awkward shuffling out of the room.
7. Recite “Bee I’m expecting you”
8. 6th sense. “I see dead people”
…See? This took me minutes. Teenage Laziness indeed, teenage planning by stratagem. I think so!
I appreciate this isn’t a long one, I’m sorry. But nothing huge has happened to me. I’ll play chicken on the A140 or something this week so I have something to report.
I’ll love you and leave you.
Reply or better…
Yours,
JessP.S. Got a hand full of barbie
Thursday, 16 February 2012
(Rachel)- Chilaquiles! (Chilaquiles) CHILAQUILES!!
Today is national Chilaquiles day (aka- talk like Cesar day) so.....join in....CHILAQUILES!! I hope you enjoyed 'talk like Peter Jones day'...don't know about you but mine was pretty uneventful. (Sometimes, when I think about what other people must think of us when they read about the things we do and say to each other, I think they must worry for our mental stability...conversely, they may just be jealous that they don't have as many 'in-jokes' as we do. We're pretty unique in that regard!! To all readers who aren't Jess! We are sane, honest!)
Well, so much has happened since we last blogged (the royal 'we' of course because the last 2 blog posts have been done by me), I hardly know where to begin. OOoh, I found something out about one of our nicknames. I'm afraid it's pretty sad news. I was talking to Ieuan about our nicknames and he asked what some of them were (because, as you know, anything pretty much goes) so I reeled off a few. "Humphrey, Humphers, Monroe, Montgom, Shamu, Snafu..." "WHAT?!" "Humphrey, Humph..." "No, the last one." "Oh, Sanfu." "Why on earth do you call each other Snafu?" "Well...I don't really know. It's a gilmore girls thing, I think." "Do you even know what SNAFU means?" "Not a clue." "Oh...It's a military term. It stands for Situation Normal All Fouled Up (only the 'Fouled' is a replacement)."...............*awkward silence*........ What on earth was I supposed to say to that?? All this time, we have been swearing at each other! Who knew?!
So, I'm 21. Did you know? I must say, Snafs (oops....there I go again!) it feels different. I am a fully grown adult. I think I've pretty much felt like a 'beginning woman' for at least 8 years now. I bet you will feel older when your birthday comes around. You see, you've been older than me for a long time now and your age is only just starting to catch up!!
Let me tell you a little about my dissertation meeting the other week. Now, I have known Patrick (my suoervisor) for about 1.5 years now and, because of my research, I have spent quite a bit of time in his company, have invited him to church several times, have argued with him many times and have helped him out with things many times. This means, I know him quite well. I could instantly tell, on this morning, that he was quite quiet. It took me abot 20 seconds more to realise that he was in an absolutely stinkingly foul mood. Oh dear. Considering it was first thing in the morning, I knew one of the things that had probably put him in that mood was my dissertation. I could feel emotion welling up but I stopped it. It might be alright. Then I made a fatal rookie mistake. Probably rule no.11 in Gibbs' book. I asked, sincerely, why he didn't seem very happy. I know. A very Rachel thing to do. I should never have asked. "WELL, To be honest, this hasn't put me in a very good mood...." And so it began. I felt a little like I did when Mr Randall told me I had got an E for my Maths mock at GCSE. With what he was saying, I had 3 options.
1- Cry. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart in. Tears would have been a legit response.
2-Yell. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart in. Yelling would have been a legin response.
3- Smile and take it. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart into- he just wants to help me make it better. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed too.
Despite my self and my desire to whip out a crazy combo of both 1 and 2, I went wth 3. Standard. I felt a little like Kathleen Kelly when she's brandishing the carving knife at the part and cannot think of anything to say. Why can I never say anything?? =)
It ended up being okay. The fact that I had taken it all like a trojan meant that, at the end of it, he felt pretty bad and thanked me for being nice. He said "Had I sent you out of this office in tears, I would have been distraught so thank you for taking it so well". That made me feel better but oh boy! I have some serious work to do on this baby! I'm still ahead of the game though... Gotta get my, get my, head in the game.....
You know how I work in bullet points? Well, the my long-standing method was tested yesterday. I was with two of my friends and we were planning a presentation for next wednesday. I was surprised by how long it was taking. By the third hour, I was feeling pretty bored of the process. The three of us have too much fun together and we talk too much and I think we were over complicating things. Laura writes a lot of notes. DETAILED notes and she was writing everything down that we were saying. I began to question why it is I don't take notes like that. Then I decided it was because I have a simple mind. Laura and Simon are more....careful in their note taking. I like basic notes because that allows me to expand on it myself. Just FYI, I have no idea which is better, all I am saying is that I do not think my brain could handle changing its note taking method now. It would tip it over the edge. Just saying.
Before I sign off, I would like to tell you about a Jason Bourne moment I had on Monday. So, my train back from Ieuan's house was delayed by 85 minutes meaning that I got back much later than planned. I was on the Virgin Pendelino service to Edinburgh Waverley and we pulled in at Lancaster. My big rucksack was in a luggage area at the back of my carriage towards the doors. I walked over to get my back out but the queue to get out was long and so I would have to wait until we actually stopped at Lancaster and people got off before I could get my bag. But that was okay because I had put it at the top of the pile. As people alighted the train, I wriggled my way through to the luggage bit. No bag. I say no bag...there was a bag but it was under 3 suitcases. People were still coming past me and so I couldn't step into the aisle to get my bag out until EVERYONE had got off the train. But I was still on it and I was not going stay on it. Noooo Wayyy. I heard the bleeping of the doors. They were about to close. With an almighty "NOOOO!" I yanked my bag out, let the suitcases tumble, I leaped over them, ran through the carriage to the door and, with an almighty jump, landed on the platform, just as the whistle blew for the train to leave. It was epic. Wish you'd seen it.
Anyway, McSass, I best be off.
I hope you are feeling better soon! Remember I love you loads. I can't wait to see you next week!
All my love,
McShams. X
Well, so much has happened since we last blogged (the royal 'we' of course because the last 2 blog posts have been done by me), I hardly know where to begin. OOoh, I found something out about one of our nicknames. I'm afraid it's pretty sad news. I was talking to Ieuan about our nicknames and he asked what some of them were (because, as you know, anything pretty much goes) so I reeled off a few. "Humphrey, Humphers, Monroe, Montgom, Shamu, Snafu..." "WHAT?!" "Humphrey, Humph..." "No, the last one." "Oh, Sanfu." "Why on earth do you call each other Snafu?" "Well...I don't really know. It's a gilmore girls thing, I think." "Do you even know what SNAFU means?" "Not a clue." "Oh...It's a military term. It stands for Situation Normal All Fouled Up (only the 'Fouled' is a replacement)."...............*awkward silence*........ What on earth was I supposed to say to that?? All this time, we have been swearing at each other! Who knew?!
So, I'm 21. Did you know? I must say, Snafs (oops....there I go again!) it feels different. I am a fully grown adult. I think I've pretty much felt like a 'beginning woman' for at least 8 years now. I bet you will feel older when your birthday comes around. You see, you've been older than me for a long time now and your age is only just starting to catch up!!
Let me tell you a little about my dissertation meeting the other week. Now, I have known Patrick (my suoervisor) for about 1.5 years now and, because of my research, I have spent quite a bit of time in his company, have invited him to church several times, have argued with him many times and have helped him out with things many times. This means, I know him quite well. I could instantly tell, on this morning, that he was quite quiet. It took me abot 20 seconds more to realise that he was in an absolutely stinkingly foul mood. Oh dear. Considering it was first thing in the morning, I knew one of the things that had probably put him in that mood was my dissertation. I could feel emotion welling up but I stopped it. It might be alright. Then I made a fatal rookie mistake. Probably rule no.11 in Gibbs' book. I asked, sincerely, why he didn't seem very happy. I know. A very Rachel thing to do. I should never have asked. "WELL, To be honest, this hasn't put me in a very good mood...." And so it began. I felt a little like I did when Mr Randall told me I had got an E for my Maths mock at GCSE. With what he was saying, I had 3 options.
1- Cry. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart in. Tears would have been a legit response.
2-Yell. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart in. Yelling would have been a legin response.
3- Smile and take it. He was tearing apart something I had put my heart into- he just wants to help me make it better. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed too.
Despite my self and my desire to whip out a crazy combo of both 1 and 2, I went wth 3. Standard. I felt a little like Kathleen Kelly when she's brandishing the carving knife at the part and cannot think of anything to say. Why can I never say anything?? =)
It ended up being okay. The fact that I had taken it all like a trojan meant that, at the end of it, he felt pretty bad and thanked me for being nice. He said "Had I sent you out of this office in tears, I would have been distraught so thank you for taking it so well". That made me feel better but oh boy! I have some serious work to do on this baby! I'm still ahead of the game though... Gotta get my, get my, head in the game.....
You know how I work in bullet points? Well, the my long-standing method was tested yesterday. I was with two of my friends and we were planning a presentation for next wednesday. I was surprised by how long it was taking. By the third hour, I was feeling pretty bored of the process. The three of us have too much fun together and we talk too much and I think we were over complicating things. Laura writes a lot of notes. DETAILED notes and she was writing everything down that we were saying. I began to question why it is I don't take notes like that. Then I decided it was because I have a simple mind. Laura and Simon are more....careful in their note taking. I like basic notes because that allows me to expand on it myself. Just FYI, I have no idea which is better, all I am saying is that I do not think my brain could handle changing its note taking method now. It would tip it over the edge. Just saying.
Before I sign off, I would like to tell you about a Jason Bourne moment I had on Monday. So, my train back from Ieuan's house was delayed by 85 minutes meaning that I got back much later than planned. I was on the Virgin Pendelino service to Edinburgh Waverley and we pulled in at Lancaster. My big rucksack was in a luggage area at the back of my carriage towards the doors. I walked over to get my back out but the queue to get out was long and so I would have to wait until we actually stopped at Lancaster and people got off before I could get my bag. But that was okay because I had put it at the top of the pile. As people alighted the train, I wriggled my way through to the luggage bit. No bag. I say no bag...there was a bag but it was under 3 suitcases. People were still coming past me and so I couldn't step into the aisle to get my bag out until EVERYONE had got off the train. But I was still on it and I was not going stay on it. Noooo Wayyy. I heard the bleeping of the doors. They were about to close. With an almighty "NOOOO!" I yanked my bag out, let the suitcases tumble, I leaped over them, ran through the carriage to the door and, with an almighty jump, landed on the platform, just as the whistle blew for the train to leave. It was epic. Wish you'd seen it.
Anyway, McSass, I best be off.
I hope you are feeling better soon! Remember I love you loads. I can't wait to see you next week!
All my love,
McShams. X
Friday, 16 December 2011
Episode 2- Enui, Off-ui. (Rachel)
Jess, I promised a part 2 and here it is....
Well...WHAT can I say about this weather? Well...It's cold. Very cold. In fact, just this morning I received word that my ears are going to stage a mass walk-out with my nose in protest unless I start treating them better in these freezing conditions. Rumour has it that a few of my fingers intend to join too....you just can't get the staff.
Seriously, though, It is cold and I don't have a scarf up here with me so I have taken to inventing new methods of 'neck-warmth'. The first I tried did not go well. With my rucksack packed full of huge books, I already looked ridiculous walking up the hill to my bus. I didn't really need to add Daddy's huge jumper to the mix as well. No, not wearing it over the bag, etc. That would be silly. I wore it as a cape- the sleeves tied up around my neck to keep me warm. At first, I felt empowered. There I was in my navy trackie bottoms, tucked into my warm boots, my coat, my rucksack and my cape....the very essence of warmth! This empowerment quickly turned into bitter horror at myself. Why would I even consider doing that?? I looked UTTERLY ridiculous to an extent that I don't think I have ever experience before. I apologised to myself and pressed on up the hill, my cape flowing in the strong breeze....feeling stupid.
The next 'neck-warmth' method I employed was my cardigan. This is fairly self explainatory. I folded my cardigan in half, vertically, and wrapped it around my neck and tucked it into my coat. This was effective at keeping the wind out but, when I arrived at my lecture and de-layered, I realised that, at the end of the day, I was unwrapping a cardigan from around my neck. Ridiculous.
I know what you are thinking. Yes, I could have borrowed one of Jess' scarves but, I had impetigo and I didn't want to spread it. You know, you know.
Whilst we're on the subject of Impetigo, I suppose you are wondering how I am getting on. Well, I don't blame you. As it happens, I am cured! The cream worked wonders. You can still see the red marks where the disease ravaged my face but, those will fade after a while and, hopefully, go away completely. I was talking to Mum yesterday and I figured that this was payback for my collossal moaning about strech marks. I bet someone thought it would be hilarious to put hideous markings in a place where they would be blatantly obvious and where people would actually see them. Well, thank you! It worked! I was treated like I had the freaking bubonic plague for about a week and have learnt my lesson. I mean, Jess and Harriet actually put their toothbrushes in a separate cup, used a separate hand towel and different toothpaste...way to make a girl feel like a massive, walking pandemic. An ugly contagion! (Mind you, they were sensible. I would have advised them to do exactly that!) Anyway, I really have learnt my lesson. I would rather have a couple of tiny stretch marks than Impetigo. Maybe. =) I am thrilled to report that the toothbrushes are now residing in the same cup again. Hooray!
Well, I think that is all I have to say for now. I do hope you feel better soon, Snaffs. I don't like to think of you being poorly. Just think of all the fun we will have when I am back! Whoop!
Anyway...love you, Humphers.
Love,
Shams. xxx
It was snowing this morning. HUGE, heavy flakes of snow.
Well...WHAT can I say about this weather? Well...It's cold. Very cold. In fact, just this morning I received word that my ears are going to stage a mass walk-out with my nose in protest unless I start treating them better in these freezing conditions. Rumour has it that a few of my fingers intend to join too....you just can't get the staff.
Seriously, though, It is cold and I don't have a scarf up here with me so I have taken to inventing new methods of 'neck-warmth'. The first I tried did not go well. With my rucksack packed full of huge books, I already looked ridiculous walking up the hill to my bus. I didn't really need to add Daddy's huge jumper to the mix as well. No, not wearing it over the bag, etc. That would be silly. I wore it as a cape- the sleeves tied up around my neck to keep me warm. At first, I felt empowered. There I was in my navy trackie bottoms, tucked into my warm boots, my coat, my rucksack and my cape....the very essence of warmth! This empowerment quickly turned into bitter horror at myself. Why would I even consider doing that?? I looked UTTERLY ridiculous to an extent that I don't think I have ever experience before. I apologised to myself and pressed on up the hill, my cape flowing in the strong breeze....feeling stupid.
The next 'neck-warmth' method I employed was my cardigan. This is fairly self explainatory. I folded my cardigan in half, vertically, and wrapped it around my neck and tucked it into my coat. This was effective at keeping the wind out but, when I arrived at my lecture and de-layered, I realised that, at the end of the day, I was unwrapping a cardigan from around my neck. Ridiculous.
I know what you are thinking. Yes, I could have borrowed one of Jess' scarves but, I had impetigo and I didn't want to spread it. You know, you know.
Whilst we're on the subject of Impetigo, I suppose you are wondering how I am getting on. Well, I don't blame you. As it happens, I am cured! The cream worked wonders. You can still see the red marks where the disease ravaged my face but, those will fade after a while and, hopefully, go away completely. I was talking to Mum yesterday and I figured that this was payback for my collossal moaning about strech marks. I bet someone thought it would be hilarious to put hideous markings in a place where they would be blatantly obvious and where people would actually see them. Well, thank you! It worked! I was treated like I had the freaking bubonic plague for about a week and have learnt my lesson. I mean, Jess and Harriet actually put their toothbrushes in a separate cup, used a separate hand towel and different toothpaste...way to make a girl feel like a massive, walking pandemic. An ugly contagion! (Mind you, they were sensible. I would have advised them to do exactly that!) Anyway, I really have learnt my lesson. I would rather have a couple of tiny stretch marks than Impetigo. Maybe. =) I am thrilled to report that the toothbrushes are now residing in the same cup again. Hooray!
Well, I think that is all I have to say for now. I do hope you feel better soon, Snaffs. I don't like to think of you being poorly. Just think of all the fun we will have when I am back! Whoop!
Anyway...love you, Humphers.
Love,
Shams. xxx
It was snowing this morning. HUGE, heavy flakes of snow.
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Enui, Off-ui.- Rachel
Jess...
FYI (before the missive commences)...
bul·wark (b
l
w
rk, -wôrk
, b
l-)
FYI (before the missive commences)...
bul·wark (b
lwrk, -wôrk, bl-) n.
1. A wall or embankment raised as a defensive fortification; a rampart.
2. Something serving as a defense or safeguard: "We have seen the necessity of the Union, as our bulwark against foreign danger" (James Madison).
3. A breakwater.
4. The part of a ship's side that is above the upper deck. Often used in the plural.
tr.v. bul·warked, bul·wark·ing, bul·warks
Well....Almost so much time has elapsed that I really do not know where to begin. Perhaps I shall start with university itself. I have decided that I want to be an academic. I remember in my first year of university, mocking one of my lecturers who specialises in sex in colonial algeria. I know, right?! So, in mocking him for his absurd choice, I did not expect in a million years that I would want to be like that- devoting hours of my life to researching things that only I care about. How self-indulgent! Yet, it would seem that that is what I want to do. I want to do my doctorate and I want it to be on military wives. Ahhhh, the dream!
5 days ago, something dreadful happened. Something appeared on my face. I know what you're thinking "pampered little brat can't handle a measly spot! She wouldn't know bad skin if it bit her in the armpit" (which, incidentally, sounds ridiculously uncomfortable and quite risky. I wouldn't bite someone in the armpit if you paid me)! But, despite the fact that I have been lucky enough to not have bad skin, I do know when my face isn't quite right. Let me tell you, what was happening to my face was not right. Not in any culture was this right. At first I thought it was a coldsore so, I made sure I always had clean hands so I didn't give it to myself again and I treated it with cream. By day two, it got bigger. By day 3 it was bigger still and number 2 was joining in the fun. By day 3.5 1 and 2 had joined forces to become a mahoosive one that almost took over my entire face. I referred to it as my second face. By day 3.75 there was a 3rd growing. Now, I am now coldsore expert but I knew something was up. Yesterday morning, I resolved to go into boots and get coldsore patches to cover the monstrosities with. As I approched the desk, I asked to see the pharmacist. She came out and asked what she could do to help. "Well," said I, "My face...it's falling apart. I feel like a leper." She chuckled (who wouldn't, let's be honest) and had a good look. I told her about the coldsore epidemic (no...PANdemic) that had swept my face and she said "I don't think it's a coldsore...it looks more like impetigo." NOOOO!!! Not a highly contagious Staphylococcus aureus infection that could sweep my entire body leaving me looking scabby and gross?! Not that!! PLEASE take it back and tell me I have a coldsore epidemic! I told her about my engagement pictures coming up and she almost wept with sympathy (or maybe it was a laugh, shortly turned into a 'bless you'...couldn't quite tell). Well, I went to the doctors that afternoon and it's a good thing too! You know when you have a skin complaint and people KNOW. They just KNOW. And YOU know that they KNOW and then it's awkward. You can tell they want to express sympathy for your rotting face and they can tell that you want them to go away so you don't have to face the embarassment but niether of you do anything. Also, you know when women wish men would talk to their faces rather than...their hair or something? I experienced that today. Not for the reasons you might think....!....but because people have started talking to my bottom lip. I just wish people would look me in the EYE! I KNOW I HAVE A ROTTING FACE. I KNOW MY BOTTOM LIP LOOKS LIKE IT'S BEEN RIPPED APART AND RE-ASSEMBLED. I KNOW I AM HIDEOUS AND I KNOW YOU ARE DESPERATELY HOPING THAT STARING AT MY LIP WON'T GIVE YOU MY LIP CONDITION. I UNDERSTAND THE PARANOIA. HELLO!!!! BUT PLEASE, FEIGN INTEREST, PRETEND YOU HADN'T NOTICE AND LOOK INTO MY EYES! You will soon see the real me! I will NOT be defined by my bottom lip anymore. I refuse. Done and done.
Anyway, so I went to the doctor and he said "What can I do for you today". I just looked at him with an expression that said "Really? You can clearly see that my entire face is falling off and you're asking me what you can do to help?" I didn't say that though. Obviously. I just told him the same sorry sob story I told to the chemist and he and his medical student took it from there. He knew straight away that it wasn't a coldsore. I mean...who are we kidding. What coldsore in the world looks like THAT? (none....in case you were wondering). The medical student took a bit of time to get there. In the end, he said, after about 4 minutes of pulling teeth "So....what infection do we know that makes skin look like that?" "erm..............a Staph infection??" "Yes, so.....given what it looks like and how it's spread.....what has she got??" "erm...................................................................Imp....." (This is where I chimed in) "IMPETIGO." "Yes. You have impetigo". Joyful. Hooray. 10 points to me. 2 big thumbs up. I got it right. Score. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. (*all to be said in most unimpressed tones*) He seemed delighted- like caitlin looks when she's solved a new puzzle. Well, I remained unimpressed. "Ohh....I have my engagement pictures this weekend. I need to NOT look like this!" He vowed to make me better by the weekend and gave me a topical steroid cream. It seems to be working well....though I still look dreadful. I was contemplating today what a tender mercy it is to have nice, un-rotting lips. I am so looking forward to having a normal face again. I will never take it for granted!!
1. To fortify with a wall, embankment, or rampart.
2. To provide defense or protection for
That, Dude, is a Bulwark. Just saying.
Well....Almost so much time has elapsed that I really do not know where to begin. Perhaps I shall start with university itself. I have decided that I want to be an academic. I remember in my first year of university, mocking one of my lecturers who specialises in sex in colonial algeria. I know, right?! So, in mocking him for his absurd choice, I did not expect in a million years that I would want to be like that- devoting hours of my life to researching things that only I care about. How self-indulgent! Yet, it would seem that that is what I want to do. I want to do my doctorate and I want it to be on military wives. Ahhhh, the dream!
5 days ago, something dreadful happened. Something appeared on my face. I know what you're thinking "pampered little brat can't handle a measly spot! She wouldn't know bad skin if it bit her in the armpit" (which, incidentally, sounds ridiculously uncomfortable and quite risky. I wouldn't bite someone in the armpit if you paid me)! But, despite the fact that I have been lucky enough to not have bad skin, I do know when my face isn't quite right. Let me tell you, what was happening to my face was not right. Not in any culture was this right. At first I thought it was a coldsore so, I made sure I always had clean hands so I didn't give it to myself again and I treated it with cream. By day two, it got bigger. By day 3 it was bigger still and number 2 was joining in the fun. By day 3.5 1 and 2 had joined forces to become a mahoosive one that almost took over my entire face. I referred to it as my second face. By day 3.75 there was a 3rd growing. Now, I am now coldsore expert but I knew something was up. Yesterday morning, I resolved to go into boots and get coldsore patches to cover the monstrosities with. As I approched the desk, I asked to see the pharmacist. She came out and asked what she could do to help. "Well," said I, "My face...it's falling apart. I feel like a leper." She chuckled (who wouldn't, let's be honest) and had a good look. I told her about the coldsore epidemic (no...PANdemic) that had swept my face and she said "I don't think it's a coldsore...it looks more like impetigo." NOOOO!!! Not a highly contagious Staphylococcus aureus infection that could sweep my entire body leaving me looking scabby and gross?! Not that!! PLEASE take it back and tell me I have a coldsore epidemic! I told her about my engagement pictures coming up and she almost wept with sympathy (or maybe it was a laugh, shortly turned into a 'bless you'...couldn't quite tell). Well, I went to the doctors that afternoon and it's a good thing too! You know when you have a skin complaint and people KNOW. They just KNOW. And YOU know that they KNOW and then it's awkward. You can tell they want to express sympathy for your rotting face and they can tell that you want them to go away so you don't have to face the embarassment but niether of you do anything. Also, you know when women wish men would talk to their faces rather than...their hair or something? I experienced that today. Not for the reasons you might think....!....but because people have started talking to my bottom lip. I just wish people would look me in the EYE! I KNOW I HAVE A ROTTING FACE. I KNOW MY BOTTOM LIP LOOKS LIKE IT'S BEEN RIPPED APART AND RE-ASSEMBLED. I KNOW I AM HIDEOUS AND I KNOW YOU ARE DESPERATELY HOPING THAT STARING AT MY LIP WON'T GIVE YOU MY LIP CONDITION. I UNDERSTAND THE PARANOIA. HELLO!!!! BUT PLEASE, FEIGN INTEREST, PRETEND YOU HADN'T NOTICE AND LOOK INTO MY EYES! You will soon see the real me! I will NOT be defined by my bottom lip anymore. I refuse. Done and done.
Anyway, so I went to the doctor and he said "What can I do for you today". I just looked at him with an expression that said "Really? You can clearly see that my entire face is falling off and you're asking me what you can do to help?" I didn't say that though. Obviously. I just told him the same sorry sob story I told to the chemist and he and his medical student took it from there. He knew straight away that it wasn't a coldsore. I mean...who are we kidding. What coldsore in the world looks like THAT? (none....in case you were wondering). The medical student took a bit of time to get there. In the end, he said, after about 4 minutes of pulling teeth "So....what infection do we know that makes skin look like that?" "erm..............a Staph infection??" "Yes, so.....given what it looks like and how it's spread.....what has she got??" "erm...................................................................Imp....." (This is where I chimed in) "IMPETIGO." "Yes. You have impetigo". Joyful. Hooray. 10 points to me. 2 big thumbs up. I got it right. Score. Whoop. Whoop. Whoop. (*all to be said in most unimpressed tones*) He seemed delighted- like caitlin looks when she's solved a new puzzle. Well, I remained unimpressed. "Ohh....I have my engagement pictures this weekend. I need to NOT look like this!" He vowed to make me better by the weekend and gave me a topical steroid cream. It seems to be working well....though I still look dreadful. I was contemplating today what a tender mercy it is to have nice, un-rotting lips. I am so looking forward to having a normal face again. I will never take it for granted!!
Sunday, 4 December 2011
(Jessica)- Dude, what's a bulwark?
Dearest Rachel,
I love you dearie,
Love Jess McFruit.
The eternal question returns. What is a bulwark?
I am well aware that you pride yourself on presents. You called me, when I was in a lesson at college, simply to mention that fact! I'm glad, truly. You clearly make up for my present buying deficiency.
Who doesn't love bread? That's what I want to know... It's so tasty, especially the seeded kind. Although I do feel like a sparrow when I eat seeds, don't know why exactly, just happens. Could be worse I guess... I could feel like a pigeon or a hen... but then why can't I feel like a Kingfisher or a Raven? It's just a sparrow. *sigh* such is life I guess.
Your "vitamins"? How very delicate of you. I'm on pills that are meant to tame my hormones, and you get dainty "vitamins". Yes, that's about right. I have quite a smooth face at the moment, no dry skin whatsoever, other than my knees...but name me one person who has soft knees? It just doesn't happen. It's all that kneeling at your feet, darn it all.
You sound like you have a very busy Christmas planned. My personal plans are getting fat and then a good self-loathing which will beat me into running around the block a few hundred times, topped off with gift giving and good ol' Christmas lovin' and cheer. Sound good? I think so Snaffs.
About your weekend with Ieu, wow! It sounds like you two has brilliant fun and I am very jealous of him that he got to spend so much time with you. I wish I could say that I understand how you're feeling about missing him...but I'm afraid it doesn't compute into my emotional "range". The only man I have ever missed a lot is dad, and I live with him, so you can understand the deficit. But I do miss you. It's a void in my life, a great chasm of missingyouness. (Poetic, no?)
I tried reading in all in a Scottish accent…but now I have a headache...so maybe I'll stick with quoting Monarch of the Glen, "Molly MacDonald: Listen, mush! I can boogie with the best, dance 'til dawn and drink 'til doomsday! So don't give me this old routine! Or I shall give you an injury from which you may never recover!" I know she's not actually Scottish...but the show is.
As you may know I am in the process of applying to places far and wide to "educate" me better in the ways of photography and design. I am fed up and quite in the mood to run away to Ireland to work as a bar-maid and learn how to play the tin-whistle in my free time. What thinkest thou? On a more serious note...I don't even know if I want to go. Gosh, why can't I just get married and have children. Being a mother is the only thing I'm sure that I want to do...no matter how much children annoy me. My children will be different; they will annoy other people, but not myself. Can't you just stow me away with you?
So, I was on the bus the day of our dysfunctional phone call (rubbish signal, etc), and I would like to take time to mention the wonderful OAPs. I nearly drowned in the sea of old people on the lower deck of the bus, they just didn't stop coming. The woman who sat next to me was very comfortable with reading my texts to you over my shoulder and in random moments of loneliness, usually in three minute increments, she would be overcome with the urge to snuggle up and dare I say it, lean. The woman was "leaning" on me! Hugging is polite, is just arms. Leaning is a whole different ball game, it's a body on a slight incline towards an unsuspecting victim. I was the victim. Dude.
Like you, I am in unhappy spirits and pretty wiped out, so apologies for the lack of humour. We should do something to cheer each other... *tumbleweed* .... I'll let you know.
Pah! Sam just came in with a delighted smile on his face waving a massive stick saying, "I just called everyone to repentance!!". What a strange hobby...I suppose someone has to do it.
Alas dearest Fruity McSquizzy McBean, I have to go, we have family over and no matter how much I try to justify my reasons for staying on here and talking about voids and bulwarks, I'm being rude. Now I have to repent of my rudeness because I have been called to repentance by a small orange child waving sticks. You don't mess with that kind of sign man. Bad karma. I love you dearie,
Love Jess McFruit.
Friday, 2 December 2011
(Rachel)- "Bagels are like glue in your intestines and ensure that everything that enters your body will remain there until you die."
Well, Jess. What can I say. It seems that so much time has elapsed! I have just finished ordering 2 of Ieuan's presents. I reckon he will LOVE them. I do pride myself on my ability to choose presents for him...I've not had a christmas with him for SUCH a long time. It will be wonderful.
Anyway. Do you know something? If I wanted to, I could write a 2500 word essay in 2 days. Just saying. It's a tried and tested thing. The time consuming element of essay writing is the research. SO many times I have started to write about something awesome. Something I have come up with. Some theory about social constructions that I am entitled to pass off as my own because I made it! BUT, alas, essays do not work like that. You essentially have to say "This is what I think and so does *Insert name of prestigious historian*" Annoying? Annoying. ONE day, I will be the quoted historian. Jess? I want to be an historian.
Anyway, allow me to explain my choice of blog title. You see, I have recently become an even bigger fan or carbs than I was before. I have decided to embrace the bread! That's right- you heard. I get SO ridiculously peckish between meals and I can't afford to literally make a 4th meal to dip into when I feel like it because then I would literally be eating constantly but a slice of toast is ample. SO, this means I go through bread more than I used to. Bread is wonderful. We love bread.
So I started taking my little tablets on monday. My vitamins. Nothing much to report...my face has been very dry- to the point of cracking and drawing blood at times but I slather on the clean and clear moisturiser and some coco butter and it seems to be working a treat. Other than that I am faring just fine. Certain aspects of my wedding preparations are occupying my mind quite readily but I have far too much work to do to let it overtake my life at this stage. University continues to go well and I am very much enjoying the work I am doing. I confess to being a little bossy to my dissertation superviser, Patrick (fondly known as Patricio...when I need something) as I have pushed him to give me deadlines so I can stay ahead of the game and be on top of things. Christmas will be the decider though. Have you considered what the human body can do when it sets its mind to something? 1 month of holiday time. Time to join in the felicitations with family members (x4 lots) time to spend with siblings (doing fun and exciting things), enough time to spend with Ieuan (there is no way I am going to keep this 3 week thing up when I am an hour away), time to get the dress fitted and altered, time for other wedding preparations, engagement photos, earn as much money as I can, and write at least a third of my dissertation... Bring it ON!!!
Would you like to hear about my weekend with Ieuan? Well, alright then, I'll tell you. SO....one of my favourite feelings in the world is getting ready to see Ieuan a short while before he arrives. I leave a lot of things to the last minute so I can be busy right up until the point in order that time doesn't drag, see? SO, I had just come out of the shower, got dressed and done some of my make-up when I hear a man's voice downstairs saying "Anyone home?" EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!! I get ridiculously excited when I see Ieuan. SO excited. I miss him a lot when I am not with him but seeing him for the first time makes it so worth it. I bolted down the stairs and jumped into his arms. Great feeling. We then snuggled down and watched you've got mail. The next day was very lazy indeed. We spent a lot of time catching up and talking, we had a cooked brunch consisting of scrambled eggs a-la- Rachel and sausages and lovely toast made from oaty bread. I KNOW! OATY BREAD! Eventually, we go around to doing something. We went out to Asda to collect some bits and bobs. Whilst we were there, we decided to set ourselves a supermarket challenge, which we do sometimes. This time, it was my turn to come up with the idea. I decided we would have 10 minutes to choose 2 outfits for the other person. One smart and one casual and then we'd try them on. "I won't need 10 minutes" Says he. Very well. 7 minutes. About 6 minutes later, whilst perusing the men's jeans aisle, armed with 2 great outfits, I get a phonecall. ".....I'm going to need the 10 minutes." =) Bless him. So I had a little longer to refine my choices and I met him in the designated rendezvous spot (and no, I did not sing the rendezvous song. Time and place, Jess! Honestly!) I was concerned at the lack of clothing. I could spy some slippers, some jeans and a top of some kind. C'est tout. I'd even accessorised his outfit with a great belt! Immediately, he set about explaining himself. He said that all the clothes were horrible and he couldn't picture me in any of them so he started to think about what Lorelai would wear... SAVED! As for the slippers, they were perfect for me but...couldn't consitute either a smart or a casual outfit. We tried on our stuffs. He looked GREAT so....I won! Whoop. It was so funny- we had a blast. I love having him up here with me because it's proper, genuine Ieuan and Rachel time. We run on our own timetables and the world feels like our oyster! He left at about 5:30 on monday evening. I hate saying goodbye but I'm looking forward to 3 weeks time when I can see him again. I will be honest with you, Jess...on a slightly more serious note, I sometimes feel like I have spent enough time away from him, you know? So every single moment is an absolute treasure. I am so looking forward to being married to him. I hope married people never take for granted that they get to see their husbands every day. What a blessing!
So...Talk like Duncan Banatynne day? Och Hai the noo. That's my contribution. If that is inadequate, go back and read this aloud in a scottish accent! =) Hehehehe!
I have decided to ride in a trailer attached to Daddy's bike on my wedding day. Recipe for hilarity? I think so!
I loved reading about your experience with the doctor. I can well imagine it. I felt like I was inside your head!! I wish you had been with me at the unspeakables. You would have been useful to have whilst foreign objects were flying around causing abject horror and pain, you would have been very useful indeed.
I love you, Doibs. Must be off. I am sorry....I'm not in a very good mood today so this isn't especially funny but I promise to try harder next time!
All my love,
Snaff McSnaff. X
Anyway. Do you know something? If I wanted to, I could write a 2500 word essay in 2 days. Just saying. It's a tried and tested thing. The time consuming element of essay writing is the research. SO many times I have started to write about something awesome. Something I have come up with. Some theory about social constructions that I am entitled to pass off as my own because I made it! BUT, alas, essays do not work like that. You essentially have to say "This is what I think and so does *Insert name of prestigious historian*" Annoying? Annoying. ONE day, I will be the quoted historian. Jess? I want to be an historian.
Anyway, allow me to explain my choice of blog title. You see, I have recently become an even bigger fan or carbs than I was before. I have decided to embrace the bread! That's right- you heard. I get SO ridiculously peckish between meals and I can't afford to literally make a 4th meal to dip into when I feel like it because then I would literally be eating constantly but a slice of toast is ample. SO, this means I go through bread more than I used to. Bread is wonderful. We love bread.
So I started taking my little tablets on monday. My vitamins. Nothing much to report...my face has been very dry- to the point of cracking and drawing blood at times but I slather on the clean and clear moisturiser and some coco butter and it seems to be working a treat. Other than that I am faring just fine. Certain aspects of my wedding preparations are occupying my mind quite readily but I have far too much work to do to let it overtake my life at this stage. University continues to go well and I am very much enjoying the work I am doing. I confess to being a little bossy to my dissertation superviser, Patrick (fondly known as Patricio...when I need something) as I have pushed him to give me deadlines so I can stay ahead of the game and be on top of things. Christmas will be the decider though. Have you considered what the human body can do when it sets its mind to something? 1 month of holiday time. Time to join in the felicitations with family members (x4 lots) time to spend with siblings (doing fun and exciting things), enough time to spend with Ieuan (there is no way I am going to keep this 3 week thing up when I am an hour away), time to get the dress fitted and altered, time for other wedding preparations, engagement photos, earn as much money as I can, and write at least a third of my dissertation... Bring it ON!!!
Would you like to hear about my weekend with Ieuan? Well, alright then, I'll tell you. SO....one of my favourite feelings in the world is getting ready to see Ieuan a short while before he arrives. I leave a lot of things to the last minute so I can be busy right up until the point in order that time doesn't drag, see? SO, I had just come out of the shower, got dressed and done some of my make-up when I hear a man's voice downstairs saying "Anyone home?" EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!! I get ridiculously excited when I see Ieuan. SO excited. I miss him a lot when I am not with him but seeing him for the first time makes it so worth it. I bolted down the stairs and jumped into his arms. Great feeling. We then snuggled down and watched you've got mail. The next day was very lazy indeed. We spent a lot of time catching up and talking, we had a cooked brunch consisting of scrambled eggs a-la- Rachel and sausages and lovely toast made from oaty bread. I KNOW! OATY BREAD! Eventually, we go around to doing something. We went out to Asda to collect some bits and bobs. Whilst we were there, we decided to set ourselves a supermarket challenge, which we do sometimes. This time, it was my turn to come up with the idea. I decided we would have 10 minutes to choose 2 outfits for the other person. One smart and one casual and then we'd try them on. "I won't need 10 minutes" Says he. Very well. 7 minutes. About 6 minutes later, whilst perusing the men's jeans aisle, armed with 2 great outfits, I get a phonecall. ".....I'm going to need the 10 minutes." =) Bless him. So I had a little longer to refine my choices and I met him in the designated rendezvous spot (and no, I did not sing the rendezvous song. Time and place, Jess! Honestly!) I was concerned at the lack of clothing. I could spy some slippers, some jeans and a top of some kind. C'est tout. I'd even accessorised his outfit with a great belt! Immediately, he set about explaining himself. He said that all the clothes were horrible and he couldn't picture me in any of them so he started to think about what Lorelai would wear... SAVED! As for the slippers, they were perfect for me but...couldn't consitute either a smart or a casual outfit. We tried on our stuffs. He looked GREAT so....I won! Whoop. It was so funny- we had a blast. I love having him up here with me because it's proper, genuine Ieuan and Rachel time. We run on our own timetables and the world feels like our oyster! He left at about 5:30 on monday evening. I hate saying goodbye but I'm looking forward to 3 weeks time when I can see him again. I will be honest with you, Jess...on a slightly more serious note, I sometimes feel like I have spent enough time away from him, you know? So every single moment is an absolute treasure. I am so looking forward to being married to him. I hope married people never take for granted that they get to see their husbands every day. What a blessing!
So...Talk like Duncan Banatynne day? Och Hai the noo. That's my contribution. If that is inadequate, go back and read this aloud in a scottish accent! =) Hehehehe!
I have decided to ride in a trailer attached to Daddy's bike on my wedding day. Recipe for hilarity? I think so!
I loved reading about your experience with the doctor. I can well imagine it. I felt like I was inside your head!! I wish you had been with me at the unspeakables. You would have been useful to have whilst foreign objects were flying around causing abject horror and pain, you would have been very useful indeed.
I love you, Doibs. Must be off. I am sorry....I'm not in a very good mood today so this isn't especially funny but I promise to try harder next time!
All my love,
Snaff McSnaff. X
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)