It has been a week of sausage overdoses and sad little four year old boys being dragged to school and autumnal horrible rainy days and a big fat Friday night GBK burger which has me pinned mercilessly to the couch. I am helpless, and drowning in the burger aftermath. I can barely lift my fingers.
School. Noah started on Tuesday and he hates it. He is too small for the polyester uniform which is a fluorescent shade of nuclear-fallout blue and which nearly crackles with sparks when you touch it. He has been weeing in it quite a bit, which I take to be a passive aggressive protest. And bloody right, too. They tried to get him to sit on the caterpillar square on the mat, but he really didn’t want to. And so he said so. In a very loud shouty voice. And he stood and faced all of the other 29 nervous four year olds and looked at the teacher and the teacher’s aide and stood his ground. For a very, very, very long time, so they tell me.
So. I have one of those kids. I thought my biggest problem with him was going to be his cowlicks and resulting sticky-outy-fringe, but things may get a little more difficult than that.
Anyway, now is not the time to discuss speech therapy and hearing tests and suchlike. I am going to launch into answering a few questions from Ali at Hestia’s Larder. ‘Cos why not? I am always happy to turn things back to me, after all.
1. At what time of your life were you happiest and why?
Born with a happy disposition, and born to parents who were kind and resilient and sensible and generally overflowing with positive sentiments, I think I have always been happy. Coffee makes me surge with pleasure, as does breastfeeding that handsome Baby Ned. But that is just drugs.
Weirdly, I think I was most happy when I lived with Mark and Amber and Glenn in a basement 4 bed bug-ridden dorm in Bayswater when we were without children, without jobs and without any real trauma whatsoever other than running out of food money. It was ace.
2. Where and when did you meet the love of your life?
The Whangarei Salvation Army, a Sunday, somewhere in 1990. He was wearing a new grey shirt which may have been described as ‘funky’. He probably wore grey zip-up slip-ons too. His hair was a bit mullet-y. He was thin.
3. Favourite item of clothing ever or most treasured possession?
Oh that is SO HARD. Here is a list of the possibles:
Meg Matthew’s Doma caramel-coloured leather jacket
Kate Sylvester gold skirt with the bustle in the back. (Unworn since I lived in NZ, but it will have its time again)
Super-king bed with memory foam. Oh how I long for snatched moments in that bed.
My iPad. I haven’t got it yet, but it will be.
4. Must have makeup or beauty item?
At the risk of sounding like an infommercial, my Tom Ford lipstick in Ginger Fawn is an every day essential. Pink Dusk has been a bit of a disappointment, because it looks too much like my skin, and disappears. True Coral is next.
Other than that, Chanel foundation, MAC eyeliner in Teddy (thanks honeymoon1), and Clarins Blue Orchid Oil for the night to stave away the wrinkles.
5. What do you think is your worst vice or fault .. honestly?
Everything is actually about me. That, I think, is a very boring and lazy and irritating trait. Sorry about that.
And I am a bit of a brat. The whole iPad thing is driving my husband mental. It goes like this
Me to Mark: “It is my birthday in three weeks.”
Mark: “Mm.” (doesn’t look up from watching a made-for-TV movie starring Jean-Claude Van Damme)
Me: “I would really like an iPad.”
Mark: “No. Aren’t they about £800? No.”
Mark: “No.” (Eyes settle back to movie.)
Me: “Yes. It is the only thing I want. Yay! I cannot wait for it! I am going to go and google it! Yay, and thanks in advance.”
This conversation has been going on for weeks. I. Will. Win.
6. Would you tell your friend, if you knew her husband/wife was cheating on her/him?
Yes. I cannot abide such ugliness.
7. What ambitions, wishes or desires, for your life, do you still hold close to your heart?
I still want to live in New York. I have given up notions of being a hardened lady lawyer, and my TV presenting aspirations had long gone.
I would like to be a bit like Joan Didion, except for the sad parts.
I still desire a Chanel 2.55. And an iPad.
8. Where do you see yourself in five years from now?
In New Zealand, having made lots of dosh from the Genius Secret Project. Enough dosh, that is, to have a lovely Herne Bay house, a bach somewhere up North, and as many emergency trips to London/New York and Europe to feel connected to the world.
Sadly, I am a walking cliche.
Ok, I tag these fellas: