Cleaning is just not my thing. I mean, there were people who were made to effectively spruce a place up, with an outstanding ability to tidy, however I simply was not wired in the manner. Like i always say, i’m a Glamour puss, who is built for pleasure and luxury and not one for tedious elbow work. In life, it’s desperately important that you stick to your strengths. When you do, then you will rocket into the glittery stars and victory dance with achievement. (Have a cocktail when you do this, it takes the edge off the bumps.) So i’ve made the executive decision to refrain from going against what my natural flow of being represents and leave the cleaning to those who are better at it. ( Any excuse 🙂 ) It’s not that i can’t do it. It’s just that it bores me and when something bores me (and i will inform you of my delicious short attention span) you have no hope. Only do the things that you love. Be it a job, a boy or even an outfit. Every time you tackle something that isn’t naturally you, at the end of the merry road, there’s usually a big juicy brick wall for you to smack into, with a ‘failure’ sign above it and simply because you haven’t enjoyed your time, or executed your passion in the correct direction. Each and every person is made for something. Find your niche and excel. I do my niche in heels…and well i may grow to be 80 with back problems…but who isn’t 80 with back problems? (Just having a flashback of me butt naked in a hotel room, curling my hair with tongs in a full length mirror, with poor tan marks and stains printed upon my bum bum, whilst Keiran was sitting in nothing but a small white towel around his waist, in my far right, back corner, with his balls out, trumping and giggling. 🙂 I also remember the next morning, when he sauntered out of bed, half asleep to turn on the bathroom light, stark naked and armed with a comedy boner. Lmao. I love our life.)
Okay, yesterday was shopping day. I’ve had a busy and eventful week, sort of emotional, yet filled with travel, work and those good old personal bits that make your heart beat and readjust the way you ponder your life. Therefore, i figured a bit of ‘Wunna family’ time with my folks and ofcourse armed with my gorgeous and now very chatty Baby Ruby, we trotted off to Doncaster for a yummy slide of lunch and a push around the shops. (Great company, however not as fun as usual. I’l tell you why in a further blog, when my life becomes a great deal clearer to you.)
I’m missing the handsome hubby Keiran quite mucho right now. I feel like we’ve spent so much time together, that to turn around and have him ripped away from my side for work, as i get tugged the OTHER way for work is heartbreaking. I hate leaving him, when the last time i saw him was in a hotel room. It makes me feel like i’m a mistress. So different to when we leave each other from home, with the tumble drying a going innit. We’re both ambitious, we’re both hard workers, yet we’re both confetti love bunnies. We live for each other, with a wiggle and a strut, so not being able to see him has been hideous. (He sent me a text last night reading ‘I miss you, i miss you, i miss you.’ It’s weird how the simpliest of texts, provided it is of the adoring nature and truthful, can make your heart swoon…or ache.) Anyway, he’s back tomorrow at some point. I guess when you wish to be a success, you have to put in the leg work and we are certainly a couple to tango that notion. We work hard and well everyone, who is anyone has at some point put in that sweat. (I don’t sweat, but i still thunder forward with my Asian attack face.) For example i was watching X-Factor last night and on these shows (and i am a reality tv product) you always see everyone you know still getting up and giving it a go, to make their dreams come true. I love that and i love that because they’re talented and pushing for what they want, y’know going out there and getting it. They hear hundreds of ‘no’s in their lifetime of trying to one day hear that ‘yes.’ So never give up if you truly have a talent, because when that ‘yes’ comes…it will of all been worth it. You usually see the same people at the same auditions, trying to do the same thing…and even though it’s often spritzed like it’s a bad thing, i CERTAINLY don’t think so at all. Going to there and fighting for what you want will make a difference. Everyone who has been successful, has been through the stage of ‘the trying.’ The entertainment industry is an industry where you have to be strong of heart, yet stay pure of soul and happy. I learnt the grind the Hollywood way and well that put me in good stead for all that was to happen to me in life. I feel apptly prepped…which kinda also puts Keiran in good stead, as he listens to what i’ve learnt and meanders his talent efficiently and effectively.
Long story short, because i’ve being far too preachy for a Sunday morning, TODAY on Sept 9th, 2012, I AM taking Baby Ruby (after a 2pm meeting) to THE CIRCUS!! *Cue music and clowns* Yaaay!
I’m not sure why i’m so excited, as i can’t remember whether i loved the circus when i was a child or whether it terrified me. But i had a wonderful childhood and all i remember is loving everything. (I’m easily amused.) So my mum, dad, brother and I are trundling her off RINGSIDE (Lord help her…but if you’re gonna do it, you might as well do it well) to Pontefract racecourse at 3pm, to take the glitzy fruit of my loins, who is actually being quite the marvel herself right now, to THE CIRCUS.
Now, i’m not sure what the appropriate ‘Circus attire’ is these days? Cocktail dress? And, im not sure what’s going to happen? As clowns and other ‘ha-ha’ delights of that sort, may be super dated for a child in 2012?? Ruby likes most things. She adores a bit of noise and ‘hoo-haa’ and everything to be all about her. However, i distinctly remember taking her a very tiny street parade in Doncaster that was all for celebrating gay rights and from a distance she loved it. (The gays adore me, i’m a Hilton product and bouji. I thought i’d welcome my child to my kingdom.) Yet, when a man painted in GOLD, wiggly armed danced up to her, like he was on pills, with googly eyes, a thong and got in her face, with a background chant of ‘2,4,6,8 how do you know your kids are straight!’ (Great chant.) She kinda got a little terrified and began SHOUTING in his face for her MUMMY…whilst trying to KICK HIM in the bollocks with a half chewed Minnie Mouse in her buggy. (She never shouts for me, unless she’s in REAL trouble. When she feels all ‘baby-baby’ and needs a cuddle, love or extra lovey dovey attention …Rubes is an utter Daddy’s girl. That’s all she wants…’Daddy.’ Followed by her next option…’Grandma.’ However, if the situation has managed to get way out of her control and she fears for her entire life. You hear ‘MUUUUUMMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!’ I’m her only option when it comes to weird disco dancing gold men, in her face, with poor wiggly arm dances. If it’s comedic danger…no-one can mess her Mama. I’m her hero…but only for that moment. Once i’ve saved her, she’s no longer bothered about me and wants me to go away immediately, so she can cuddle up to Keiran a little more. 🙂
Bottom line. If she tantrums, the ENTIRE Circus tent will pretty much end up getting destroyed and will probably end up being flat down and deflated in a car park somewhere, with elephants running loose and everything.
We’ve got RINGSIDE tickets. 🙂 3pm. Wish me luck. (I never learn. It’s obviously becoming a problem.)