This afternoon Eliott took himself off to the sofa with a duvet and laid himself out like a couch potato. When I asked him what he was doing he said "sleep in mummy's bed". Oh, the shame.
Indeed, I have been spending rather a few mornings laying like a big, fat vegetable on my sofa. This comes from drinking too much demon booze. Last night I found myself singing/shouting songs from Grease in a friend's car at 1.30am after an innocent sounding Usborn book party descended into white wine-fuelled chaos and singing/shouting Take That songs in the hostess's living room. It's not good, not at my age (or any age, come to think of it).
So I might impose a ban on alcohol now until at least December 7th when the Christmas parties start rolling in. Oh God I can't face it*.
Meanwhile my house is being taken over by superheroes. Usually when dads look after their kids for the day they go to the park or play football. Matt spent the afternoon painting a life-size Superman on Eliott's bedroom wall. Obviously the little man is delighted.
The comic collection is out of control and we all know the script to "Superman and Batman", the animated movie (no prizes for guessing who also knows every single action). And in addition to Eliott's ever-growing superhero model collection, Matt's 'sad shelf' is back (it caved in under the weight of all his superhero models but has been reinforced and replaced - I can't wait for the cleaners to take them to down to dust and put them back in the wrong order, wicked witch that I am). What a couple of losers.
Oh and I'm unemployed. Ok, I'm being dramatic again. I haven't got any outstanding commissions, but that's the hangovers for you. Tomorrow I will be back to full-strength and pitching like a mutha. It's all gravy**.
*I'm still hungover.
**What?
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
This life, that's life
BBC2 are repeating the complete series of This Life ahead of the big reunion. After I got past Egg being called Egg again on screen (he's always been Egg to me) I started feeling all dreamy and reminiscent.
It's weird to feel so nostalgic about 1997. I thought nostalgia ended after 1992, but evidently I got even older than I thought possible. When I watched This Life the first time around I wanted to be in it (the world the characters lived in that is, not the series). They were living the life that I thought I should be living at the time. I wanted to be having passionate affairs, gay friends, interesting flatmates and being the crazy bird at parties. Of course, looking back I appreciate that I had/was all those things. Shame you don't see what's right in front of you at the time.
Now I'm old and settled and watched with a sentimental tear in my eye as Egg got his dinkle out and Anna screwed her nose up a lot. I was amazed at how many dusty feelings a silly TV drama can reveal. I'm older and wiser and happier now, but that didn't stop me getting dewy-eyed. I'm celebrating my fourth wedding anniversary today, but I'm still far too proud to be known as the crazy bird at parties (when we've got a babysitter). Even hearing that theme tune, I did long, for a second, for those heady days of my twenties when there was a promise of something really dramatic and bonkers around the corner and I still got into situations that would make me cringe for a lifetime. I could have killed for five minutes back in my old shared flat with all that laughter, drama, alcohol, pent-up ambition and excitment.
I would love to be, just for a day, the girl who thought she was an adult, but was so far removed from a grown-up she couldn't even see it on the horizon. It was a good time, a wild time and a long time ago.
But, y'know, just like This Life, that life was probably overrated.
It's weird to feel so nostalgic about 1997. I thought nostalgia ended after 1992, but evidently I got even older than I thought possible. When I watched This Life the first time around I wanted to be in it (the world the characters lived in that is, not the series). They were living the life that I thought I should be living at the time. I wanted to be having passionate affairs, gay friends, interesting flatmates and being the crazy bird at parties. Of course, looking back I appreciate that I had/was all those things. Shame you don't see what's right in front of you at the time.
Now I'm old and settled and watched with a sentimental tear in my eye as Egg got his dinkle out and Anna screwed her nose up a lot. I was amazed at how many dusty feelings a silly TV drama can reveal. I'm older and wiser and happier now, but that didn't stop me getting dewy-eyed. I'm celebrating my fourth wedding anniversary today, but I'm still far too proud to be known as the crazy bird at parties (when we've got a babysitter). Even hearing that theme tune, I did long, for a second, for those heady days of my twenties when there was a promise of something really dramatic and bonkers around the corner and I still got into situations that would make me cringe for a lifetime. I could have killed for five minutes back in my old shared flat with all that laughter, drama, alcohol, pent-up ambition and excitment.
I would love to be, just for a day, the girl who thought she was an adult, but was so far removed from a grown-up she couldn't even see it on the horizon. It was a good time, a wild time and a long time ago.
But, y'know, just like This Life, that life was probably overrated.
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