Wel…l you should ALL grab your Asian eyes, a 22 inch weave and a budget pair of stilettos and simply BECOME the MOI, the Ultimate Queen of Greatness.
I have JUST spent 14 minutes of my rather tragic, yet still delicious life, trying to ‘button press’ open another human being’s car and under the distinct misconception that it was my own. I looked like a frickin’ lunatic AGAIN. I mean, now the Good Lord is taking the piss. I’ve been blind over the last few days because he’s ONLY JUST decided to tell Specsavers that I deserve clear vision like the rest of you, my very own husband has moved all of his stuff out of the house to go and live in alternate accommodation simply because I am obviously such a great wife, my children are kneeing each other in the head for attention, i’m not winning the lottery and being told i’m a ‘loser’ my the cashier 14 times in a row, as a dull supermarket, waiting in line watches on, i’m adjusting my work so that I can try and run a brand new dating site, yet it keeps getting rejected because i’m really rubbish at the techy-doo-daa marlarky and to top it all off, I gallop out of the Co-op in Ackworth, with a smile in my face because I had decided to cling onto the hope that it all wasn’t so bad and there I was trying to (what looked like BREAK INTO someone else’s silver Mercedes because it simply looked exactly like mine!!
Now, in life…i’ve done a lot of things wrong and the big things I seem to be able to handle. For example, Keiran doing a runner..still weep on occasion…but i’ve been okay with it all and handled it with a wiggle and a deep breath. The little things that go wrong howeve,r seem to mightily embarrass me and I have no idea why? Maybe because i never intended my life to be so ‘Benny Hill’ and more diamond dripped in Hollywood fame and fortune. Things didn’t quite pan out that way…so now i’m left with minor hiccups that make me look…well like a twat.
There I was on September 2nd 2013, at around 1454 pressing my car key like it was opening a tight cookie jar lid and swearing that the fact that technology these days was shit. I walked around the car pressing my car key ‘open’ button from different angles…like you do…thinking a dodgy squint and side bent hand, with a lean might work. I swore a little more. I ‘dolly faced’ a wee bit for sympathy. I finally got frustrated and couldn’t for the life of me GET WHY this was happening. THEN to make me look even more sane, i almost nearly tried to break into the car! HOLY WUNNA LAND!
For 15 minutes I did this. Not even KNOWING that is wasn’t my car and simply a car that looked like mine, in my over extended eyelashes, fur boots and diamante dangle earrings.
Then after I had fully made myself look like an prize idiot and a brief revolving door of ‘passing folk’ managed to notice my absolute idiocy, with ‘behind my back’ laughter… (I even did my fake laugh thing that I do when I’m embarrassed. If you find yourself doing that in life, know that everyone sees through it…) I looked to my left and noticed the exact same car as the one I was trying to ‘sonic boom’ open and then realized that the other ‘to my left noticed’ car was MINE! UGH!
This all wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t initially parked up and even SEEN the identical car that I tried to break in to and state to myself that it was JUST LIKE MINE.
All I did was buy pasta sauce and wine and just like that I had forgotten on my departure I completely lost my mind and being squat, bend leaning at some other car, with my car key like I was some kind of Yorkshire, Ninja, car stealing…tart?
Break ups (well sort of breakups) and newborn night shift tiredness can make things of this nature occur. Having new sight doesn’t help either because you can’ t blindly smile like you’ve had a gin, without witnessing your foolishness.
I never thought that part of my fairytale at 32, would involve being married with children…still sexy…yet having a husband that apparently still loves you who lives in an completely different house. (Well he’s in an apartment. Men always tend to move to apartments don’t they? Women tend to move into a wine bottle. 🙂 OMG…that can be seen far too many different ways. I’ll let you choose your own version.)
But on a more serious note, I’m feeling bad for Keiran now. (I KNOW! I KNOW! I NEED TO STOP.) I think it’s because I saw him stood in my patio door with what looked like ‘almost’ tears in his eyes, saying that he wanted us to be happy, in love and back to how it was and that he laid in bed at nights glaring at the ceiling with a broken heart. It’s tapped into my natural nature to care for those who are mildy ouchy with an achy breaky heart. Mine’s used to it, so it heals quicker than most. I’m not over him by any means, but it’s not as near as bad as well the times in LA when I could be found puking up cocktails on myself after being rejected. I’ve always wanted to care for him and I don’t at all know why because as he says of me…he’s been hard work?? My nights are filled with love for the children, an ‘after the day is done’ wine and silly telly watching with a dollop of laughter. The home is filled with love. And well his nights, i guess are lonelier..which makes me sad. But he did choose that…and sort of over ‘US.’ He dumped me by text! His own wife! I have his 3 month old son. He didn’t think.
It’s all just odd, but it’s good. He wanted time away and now he has it and to be honest I think it’ll be good for him. He said he wanted to regroup and feel better and then work on a ‘rebuild.’ The thing is…i just can’t trust that after rebuilding he’ll stay.
I’m looking for romance and true love, yet stability and loyalty. There’s nothing romantic about our situation right now. He lives like a bachelor with a friend in an apartment. So in MY marriage I don’t even SEE him, let alone be treated to affection, love or romantic, fairytale-like gestures of ‘I love you.’ Things have just gone 360. I mean 2 weeks ago he was blind folding me, covering a suite with rose petals and telling me how happy he was and how beautiful he thought I was to the merry sound of ‘forever.’
NOW…he’s moved all his stuff out and lives in another home…and he’s left me to look after the children…alone. That’s irresponsible.
I can’t even be bothered to ramble on about it anymore.
I’ve blogged it out enough that my fingers are yawning from pitter-pattering it.
I’m gonna concentrate on work, me, family and wine. 🙂
If he wanted to make this right you’d think he would’ve text me or called me or something today. Nothing. It’s already 4.30pm. Like I said, he actions tell a very different story to his words.
For all I know he could be trying to make me feel sorry for him.
But whatever..love is simple, like everything else in the world, all you have to do is.. DO IT..and do it well. That’s how things become a success.
I’ll go back to mixing up cars, being able to see and being trumped on my loin fruit.
PS/ For some reason, out of nowhere the pictures on my blog have turned jumbo sized and all out of control. I have no idea how this has happened and I do apologize for the madness. We currently don’t know how to fix it. 🙂 Therefore please do pretend like they’re normal sized and and just concentrate of the writing. 😉
Have a good evening. Monday hasn’t been too rubbish. Oh and if any of you lots are going through a hard love life moment or recovering from a breakup…DON’T DO BINGE DRINKING. Especially if you have children. And I don’t mean it in a preachy ‘you have kids way’ just know that binge drining and heart ache…don’t mix. It’s a shit cocktail. It makes you do stupid things, like drunk dial and wear too much eyeshadow. Makes you cry when you didn’t k now you were going to and get a new hairdo.
If it makes you feel better…I was once found in abar by a giant lesbian, who had short spikey bright pink hair. She was a drunken, falling about mess, yet insisted on doing weird ‘vagina licky’ faces at me, through her fingers. *Adopted a terrified face here*
Now, I’m not against lesbians at all. I believe we all should embrace love and who we choose to love. Yet to me it has to be real and it has to not do vagina licky faces at me between fingers in a Camden pub. She was a mum of 8 (I know, which makes one question her lesbianism) and well out of the 8 children…7 of them had been taken into CARE.
In my mind, if 7 of your children have been taken in to care, which is mildy careless, no matter what pain you’ve been put through. 🙂 Maybe your priority should be looking after the one you have LEFT, instead of being in Camden pubs, with pink hair and rolling eyes, falling around the joint pissed and doing vagina licky faces, through fingers at little ageing, but Asian Glamour pusses.
The good thing about seeing that chick is that she made me realize what a great mum I would be. At that point I wasn’t yet a Mum, instead I was letting wannabe members play with my heart out of their own insecurity and confusion and making me feel worthless. Yippeee! Thank GOD I moved back up north.
Life is good.