Proud

It's funny how proud you can be for something you did nothing for. Parents are infinitely proud of their child's good report cards. Which is silly, because they did nothing for it, the kids should be proud, not the parents.
But apparently pride (and shame) spreads to those you love. Today the love of my life took her practical driving test. At 7.15. She got out her puppy dog eyes to get me to accompany her to the exam center and not-bite my nails in the car during her test.
And she passed.
In just the one time.
She deserves nothing less. I'm so proud.

(In case anyone's interested in how I fared, all those those two years ago, you can read up on attempt one, two and three. Oh, and the stalking driving instructor? He now likes Merlina as well... )

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gnaw

I've been biting my nails for at least 19 years now and it's only got worse. I've come to the point where -on some fingers- I barely have any nail left, only a little stump of calcium with fingertips sticking out nearly a centimetre higher. Yes, it's bad.

Trying to help one of my families to have their kid no longer sucking her thumb, I came across Byte-x (how original can a name get?) and thought I'd give it a go myself. After all, it would be nice not to have to hide my nails from other people, or to be able to point something out on a page with my finger, and not with a pen. We'll see if it does the trick.
I put it on a few minutes ago and gave my finger a tentative lick.
I can confirm it tastes absolutely "I think I might puke"- hideous. Which is what it's meant to do.

Perhaps I should motivate myself by measering the length of my nails and blogging about it?
Or perhaps not.
Let's give it up for behaviourism and see if it works.
(If it does I might start on changing my deviant sexual orientation with aversion therapy as well! Something to look forward to!)

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Priorities

Forget about the adoption thing, it's time for more important matters, like the fact that in a month's time this year's Eurovision Song Contest will already be over!
And I've not even started on my yearly review!

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WE CAN ADOPT!

("We" as in "gaylesbiandtherestofthelot"!)

Me: jumping up and down shouting "with only one vote!" at the top of my lungs, despite the McNuggets and other assorted crap I just ate.

The Sweetie: *rolls eyes* honey, you always get so excited...

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In the evening (part two)

This evening I had a phonecall from none other than ... Gay Sleeveless (ex-)Supervisor! Waaaaaaaaaah! The excitement!!
The Girlfriend answered my phone with the immortal words "Hi, this is Piglet's mobile". She's too cute.
Unfortunately I had to turn him down... the offer was to replace the one uncomplicated fun girl at my previous job (who's pregnant and overworked), but she'll be giving birth sooner than the person I'm replacing now (in August rather than in October) and well... it's further away, she was the only fun person, there were no guarantees for other jobs after that... let's just say there was absolutely no logical argument to quit my current job and go to Gay Sleeveless Supervisor's place.

He did tell me he'd keep me in mind for other possibilities.
And I made sure to come across as very enthused and happy to go back.
Even though the colleagues at my old job are demons *nods*.

Oh, and my last family wasn't in so I'm home sooner than I thought. Squee.
Perhaps, turning down another job offer will make me value my current job more.
Or perhaps not.

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In the evening

My (not-gay, not-yet-sleeveless) supervisor shrewdly maneuvred me into working evenings today. "Your wife gets home at 7.15? Well, I'm sure Piglet can come over then" was what she said during the intake last week. Piglet, meanwhile, was thinking "What the fuck? No I can't!" but didn't voice her opinion. It wouldn't have been very polite, after all. So I've been able to sleep in today, and I'll start work at 1pm, probably till about 9pm. Horror. Absolute, fucking bloody horror. Tomorrow I'm starting at 9am by the way, so I'll have had all of 12 hours in between to recuperate.

It's not sitting well with me, this job. It could be I just have to get used to it again, to the stress, the situations, the people. Could be the fact that I'm confronted with my weaknesses: confronting people, doing more than just listening and "being careful", could be that I haven't yet seen the paycheck that's supposed to "make it worth my while",... I really don't know. I hope it gets better, that's all I can say.

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Just so you know

I love chocolate eggs.

That is all.

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Abandoned Girlfriend

For the first time in our history as girlfriends, The Girlfriend is abandoning me during Babysit Duty tonight. She's got another "official" babysitting job in the early evening, so I 'll have to fend for myself for what could be as long as an hour-and-a-half! Two children for over an hour, only me. Horror.
I can only hope I'm not meant to give them a bath, because -being about as practical as a remarkably slowthinking slug- figuring out the logistics of that one could take me a few hours. Which one do I dress first, where do I leave the baby when big sister's in the tub, would it be disastrous if she fell off a table,... all those questions.
I hope the Girlfriend gets back soon.

Or at least before either of them does a number two....

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Brit Shop Boys

Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe enlisted some very special help for the video of their latest song "I'm with Stupid". None other than Little Britons David Walliams and Matt Lucas are performing as Pet Shop Boys in some kind of stage production of "life of PSB".
I think it's hilarious, but then I'm hideously biased.
You can download it here or watch it later tonight on Popjustice and the official PSB Site.

And in case that hasn't got you hot and bothered yet, there's also bondage! Yay!

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My Gabi

The Girlfriend would love to be Lynette. She's got four monsters of children (just enough to make the sweetie feel right at home, being used to me and the cats), she looks great in her worksuits and I think the Sweetie secretly would love to try some rilatin.
Sometimes though, I have to disappoint her and point out she's more of a Gabrielle. Yes, she also looks stunning, and no, I doubt she'd cheat on me with our gardener (what garden?), but... yesterday The Girlfriend mopped the house (thanks babe) and when I came home we had a conversation among the lines of this....:

The Girlfriend: "sweetie, you bought some seriously crappy floorsoap, it makes the floor sticky"
Me: "I never had that problem... which one did you use?"
The Girlfriend: "you know, the white bottle, you have to push it and stuff comes out"
Me: "Push it?"
So the sweetie showed me which bottle she used.
All our floors have been cleaned with kitchen grease remover (extra concentrated for ovens and cookers)... ah well. It makes a change, I guess.

And sweetie, I know this was a trick never to have to clean again. And it didn't work. There!

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Note

I left my car at the garage today with a little note: "has problems starting, problem with the lights, and needs new rubber thingie for back windscreen wiper.

Thank you."

It reminded me of a parent teacher conference.

I hope I'll be able to thank them when the bill comes...

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10 days of...

10 days of work and I think I'm developing a stress-related ulcer 've got stomache pain. (My mother's reaction: "you should get a gastroscopy" Honestly! Woman! For some stomache pain! Get real.) I'm also on the verge of clobbering some of my clients to death with a huge stick. Do I win prizes for this?
I'll keep myself going with the fact that the Pet Shop Boys will be at Marktrock (squeeeeeeee! Only for them will I brave Leuven) and Rufus will be at cactusfestival! Rufus! Rufus!
Sorry...
We all need something to get us going in the mo-orning.

And if the sun never comes out again this year, it'll be because the Girlfriend got herself some sunglasses today. I do apologise.

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dotting the i's

- my piercing has gotten a tad irritated from being removed and put in again respectively daily and er... eveningly. One of these days the thing will be filled with ghastly fluids and I'll just have to watch it grow closed and scar.
Could I write this and the prospective plastic surgery off as work expenses? Can my job's insurance company help out?
- One of my families has a nice infestation of icky little creatures and has given me a nice present of flea bites. Do I get sick days for this, or at least some kind of moral compensation? I could've infected three harmless cats you know! Let alone a Girlfriend!
- Has it become OK to let your kids play with knives? And lighters? At respectively three and nine years old? I could just be oldfashioned and delusional, after all.

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Fire in the disco!

Panic in the Merlina/Piglet household. The Sweetie fancied peas and carrots for tonight's dinner. Fair enough, if a little disconcerting because of the "vegetables? What's wrong with just chocolate for dinner"-ness of it all, but not that much of a problem.
The problem emerged a little later. We bought two jars of peas & carrots a while back. Neither of which... we could open. Now I'm usually the jar-opener in our household (I know, you wouldn't have guessed but I do have some butchness in me), so I took it upon myself to find a solution. Ever the shameless one, I uttered to go next-door and ask our manly neighbour (he does something with plastering and has an electric drill, how manly can you get?) if he could lend two helpless dykes a hand and open their jar of veggies (please don't look for double entendres here). The Girlfriend refused however, she didn't even want to ask the man at the chip shop. We debated about whether or not to drive to my father with the jar, but decided against that as well.
So we searched the internet, as you do. And long may it live! This site offered the solution of holding the lid under hot water. Another gave me the next perfect tip.
Where would emancipation be without the internet?
And where would you be without Auntie Piglet's handy tips?

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active!piglet

I'm trying to be an excellent employee (fat chance) and also an excellent housewife. Becoming an excellent blogger is next on my list.
I might be asking too much of myself, I'm sure.
Tonight's the first night in ages the Girlfriend, the cats, and I can slob on the sofa in front of mind-numbing tv shows. I'm really really looking forward to it.

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All is well

No worries at the job front. My colleagues seem to get along, but I need some time to find my place. As ever. The families I'm "helping" are terribly worse off than those in the middle of nowhere (in my first job) so I'm kinda pulling out my hair at how to get them to trust me and be able to do something. But I'll be fine in a month or so. And if I'm not, well... I will be.
Shamefully enough I fell asleep on Occie and Spike's sofa yesterday evening at little past 11. The embarrassment of it all! I then drove Melissa's gas (not diesel) driven car back home, with lots of noise but no accidents.

Apparently the "ronde van vlaanderen" is passing in front of our very door tomorrow morning, so all morning middle-aged men in lycra have been cycling past in little groups. I wonder if I should put a little activist poster in front of the window "Dykes say No to Lycra" or something similar...

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