Two Dumb Blondes

A journal about life in the South of France with an adolescent six year old and a psycho ex husband

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::Wednesday, February 22, 2006::

I wasn't kidnapped by Blue Anorak man (so called because he toldme all about his anorak - where he bought it, how much it cost, how hard it could rain until he got damp, how it protected you from gales - TWICE.
After the date, I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn't want to have a relationship with him, didn't want to shag him and never would. He asked to be friends. I said OK. One lunch later he told me he found me sexually attractive. I went ballistic. He acted all hurt - after all, he was just being honest.
I got a Valentine's card on February 14th. With a couple silhouetted onto a pink background and a text saying 'I think about you every day'.
Once I'd stopped puking, I caught him on messenger where he declared that he had sent the same card to al his friends and family. So I told him that he was weirder than I thought and hadn't he ever been friends with a woman before?
He never replied. Which is a shame, because in a weird kind of way I was amused. My little foray into a middle aged man's desperate mind - Just hang around somebody that is completely disinterested in you and one day they'll fall onto your knob.

muser |11:25 am|    Permalink

::Saturday, January 14, 2006::

I had a date on Thursday.
He looked older than my dad. How can a fourty six year old look over sixty five?
So, if I want someone who looks fourty I should perhaps find a twenty year old?
And is it fourty or forty? Neither looks right.

muser |5:56 pm|    Permalink

::Monday, January 09, 2006::

I love this place.
About -oh- six months ago? I ordered some tiles for my fireplace, two different colours.
'You're not in a hurry?' they asked me. 'It will take at least six weeks to order the ones we haven't got in stock.'
A couple of months later, I pop by to the shop to be told that they forgot to order them. No worries - I'm not in a hurry. I wait a while longer, drop by again and they have received the tiles, but have forgotten to bring the ones that didn't need to be ordered from the warehouse.
I return a few weeks later. The tiles are still in the warehouse.
Last week I arrive at the shop. The woman behind the counter triumphantly announces that they have all the tiles in the shop for me to take. We laugh and joke about how long it took and she helps me carry them to the car (where they still are, well my back aches at the moment!).
'So, how much do I owe you?'
'I'll take your address and send you the bill.'
'But if you just tell me the amount I'll give you a cheque right now.'
'Oh I haven't had time to work it out.'

muser |3:54 pm|    Permalink

I can't even remember why, I think it was probably about watching too much telly, but I went into my 'It's up to you, but if you don't do well at school you'll end up in a crap job cleaning other peoples' toilets and you'll never be able to afford to go on holiday, but it's up to you if you want to do nothing with your life....' tirade.
Sproglet waits for me to finish, then comes up and gives me a big hug.
'What was that for?'
'Well, you're my favourite mummy.'
'Even after I just shouted at you?'
'Well you're nice - sometimes.'

muser |3:49 pm|    Permalink

::Wednesday, January 04, 2006::

Happy New Year!
I don't usually celebrate New Year, but I have a good feeling about 2006. I feel like I've got my old self back, have recognised what I need to change and life begins here!
It seems to have taken a long time to get myself to this stage. Not sure it's too healthy to take four years to get over a divorce - but it's got to be better then ignoring why it all happened and rushing into another shitty relationship.
I'll never regret my marriage though - sproglet truly is a blessing.
Today he begged me to go for a walk to our local cemetery. While we walked around, picking up pot plants that had fallen over, I asked him why he enjoyed walking around the tombs.
'There are lots of crosses and flowers and it's pretty. It's just a shame there has to be dust here too.'
I'd explained to him that people were buried there but that the bodies had gone to dust.
Then, as we were leaving, a very old lady walked through the gates. Sproglet looked up at me with a worried look and asked 'Is she going to die?'

muser |10:23 pm|    Permalink

::Saturday, December 24, 2005::

Best birthday presents - a heffalump from Sproglet (or Hellafump as he calls it), a tin of Greek olive oil, a soft, long, cream coloured, woollen scarf....
Worst - some kind of stomach virus. I haven't been able to eat for four days. But I just had a couple of gin and tonics at a friend's place and it seems to be staying down.
I decided to spend Christmas on my own. Sproglet is with his dad and coming back on Monday. I will celebrate Christmas then. If one more person tells me how sorry/sad they are that I am on my own, how miserable I must be and what a difficult time of year it is, I will hit them over the head with the 'For Sale' sign that I still haven't given back to the Estate Agent.
I spent today popping round to friends that had invited me for Christmas. It was my choice to be on my own so for god sake stop going on about how awful I must feel!

A very Happy Christmas to you all.

muser |11:29 pm|    Permalink

::Sunday, December 11, 2005::

I suppose if life wasn't full of ups and downs we would only get bored. To be honest, I'd rather suffer the downs so that I can experience the 'up' times - life would be flat if everything chugged along the same every day.
It always amazes me how quickly things can change. Wednesday I had a childish strop because I had trouble putting the Christmas tree up. I had such a pity party! 'Why am I alone? Why don't I have anyone to help me? Life is so unfair!!!!' I wailed. I started to list all the men I thought had loved me and ended up being shitbags. Oh yes! If feeling sorry for yourself was a competition, I would have one a million euros.
I woke up the next day (or night in my books) at 5.30am in agony, not being able to move my neck and of course not being able to get back to sleep. So I got up, e-mailed a couple of friends about how miserable my life is, drank enough coffee to make myself feel ill.. you get the picture. Thursday wasn't too bad actually, as the lack of sleep made me delirious in quite a nice way. Yes, insomnia is the new drug.
Friday dawned, I couldn't decide whether to go to the local food market but my need for eggs swayed my decision. Good decision. In the local café, in walked the man of my dreams. I have to stop talking about it or I am going to jinx the whole thing, but just think good teeth, a job with an airline and a Scottish accent. The kilt visuals have been lots of fun over the last couple of days.
You see! There are people my age in this retirement backwater. Hopefully if he turns out to be married/gay/not interested in a bit of hanky panky I may get a new friend. Yay!
I then bumped into a friend I hadn't seen for ages, who shouted me lunch in a decent Spanish place just opened up in my village. Olé! Walking back up my street afterwards, another friend drove up with an early birthday present for me - a beautiful bag - and stayed for awhile drinking lots of coffee before I left to pick up sproglet from school. We went to a very cold carol concert and then warmed ourselves afterwards in a bar.
Yesterday I went shopping for my birthday party (we're now going to be twenty odd people!) and then had a wander around our village's Christmas market before having aperitifs with a friend.
I'm off in a minute to go to another Christmas market and also to dig worms for sproglet's worm farm.
Next time I whinge and moan about how lonely I am, feel free to slap me. Hard.

muser |12:00 pm|    Permalink

::Wednesday, November 30, 2005::

I went out for dinner with a couple of friends yesterday and had a good old whinge about a) not being invited out to dinner as we are not in a couple, and b) never being introduced to any men by mutual friends.

One friend is married so doesn't want to be set up with anyone, but she has noticed that when her husband is away she doesn't get invited anywhere. People actually say to her 'Let us know when S is back and we'll invite you round'. This is so crap that I was practically frothing at the mouth when she told me (or maybe it was the gin and tonic and five glasses of wine - oh the joys of being driven when you go out). How mean are people to not invite people that are on their own - it's like they are hoping that they will stay that way, therefore making them look cool and successful because they have a partner (albeit one that they don't dare let in the presence of a dreaded single person).
I also found out last night that a guy who I've heard mentioned a few times but have never met, is single, my age group, lovely and attractive. I assumed as nobody had thought to invite us for a drink at the same time that the guy was sixty and attached.
People are wankers.

muser |5:57 pm|    Permalink


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