The Palace Park

The Palace Park

Wednesday, 23 December 2009

The Holiday Blahs

So, dear little  Fanglet, off we go on a holiday adventure to Wales on Xmas morning.  We will be visiting your father's parents, your Auntie K and Uncle JT.  We'll make them southern-fried, yet, my little darling.  It will be an adventure because a) it snowed this week and England has tried to ground to a halt as a result and b) your  grandparents live miles from a decent cappuccino machine.


This week has -- in a phrase -- sucked ass.  I lost my voice Friday, going quickly from sounding like Lauren Bacall for all of twenty minutes to sounding like James Earl Jones on helium. (Speaking of Mr Jones, who is a hotty, if anyone is thinking about buying me a little present, I would love to see him in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at the Novello. I'm just saying. . . ).  By Saturday evening, I was down for the count and desperate for distraction.  We went to R and E's for a birthday celebration (bringing cake -- of which we ate none) and spent an uncomfortable evening being insulted by a 5'0 Chinese woman who was vocally horrified by the size of my belly ('I wasn't that big until I was 8 months! What HAVE you been doing?') We left early (your father WAS NOT hungover) and watched season 1 of The Wire on DVD whilst I ate copious amounts of fruit sorbet and cried.

Watching The Wire, I have decided that I am most like the Lester Freeman character. Jaded but true blue, with a love of research.  Last night, we watched the episode where poor, sweet Wallace -- the foster child of my dreams -- gets shot and I was quite possibly a bit irrationally upset about this development.  I took it very personally and cried for about an hour.

Mama might need to start watching a different series.

On Monday, we were vaccinated against Piglet's Demise, also known as Swine Flu/H1N1.  The end result has left us feeling like we have. . . guess. Guess! Wait for it!  Yaay! The Swine Flu!  The needs of the many, little Fang. The needs of the many.

Things are, however, looking up. It turns out that I had 2.5 vacation days left, so I am now off on 29 December and 4 January (sadly, these 2 days are slightly marred by doctor appointments) and a half day on 7 Jan, which is just before we go to see your Gigi (which is what I've decided you'll call your Great-great grandma Lo).

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