Anatomical Pillow Talk At 4 A.M.

It is mildly amusing to me that even in the middle of the night when drowsy with sleep, I am so competitive that I have to get the last word in with French Hubby, who, last night, was battling full moon-induced insomnia and chatting incessantly.

Hub: I let the children watch the DVD of Corpse Bride today!

Antipo [drowsily]: Oh good... do we have it in English too? [meaning, for my viewing pleasure.]

Hub [warningly]: But it's a cartoon. It's full of skeletons!

Antipo [yawningly]: But it's a Tim Burton film, so I'll love it.

Hub: Jeanne watched it with Pauline and she recently visited the Catacombs in Paris, so she knew all about femurs and skulls.

Antipo: Tibia.

Hub: Ribs.

Antipo: Clavicle, scapula.

Hub: What's that?

Antipo: Omoplate.

Hub: Oh.

Antipo: Vertebrae.

Hub: Pelvis.

Antipo: Radius.

Hub: Ulna.

Antipo: Metatarsus.

Hub: Metacarpal.

Antipo: Podocarps.

[I think that's a type of tree, actually.]

[Loooong silence.]

Hub: Yeah, okay, shut up now.

Toilet Tales

The funniest thing that has ever happened to me when ensconced upon the toilet occurred last night.

As you know, The Divine and Very Lovely Ms. Mac recently graced my humble abode with a visit, and one of my many feverish preparations for her Royal Arrival was to scout out 'specially a jumbo pack of attractively designed toilet paper, all for the delight of my Dear One's delicate posterior.

Indeed, I was even prepared to forgo my usual cheapo stuff and fork out extra pennies for a superior brand. In the event, after all my extra special efforts, I had apparently underestimated the old stocks: the new pack was not even opened during her visit and remained intact for several days after (sigh).

So last night I needed to break open the wonderful, new, luxury brand packet, and lo! and behold! it turned out to be kitchen roll (paper towels) and not botty-wiping materials at all. So much for my special efforts at guest-pleasing: apparently I hadn't taken the time to properly read the label, ahem.

When I saw the length of the tube of paper, I burst into helpless giggles and couldn't stop for quite a while. As our child-free house is unnaturally silent this week, Evil Hubby was quite intrigued to say the least.

I declined to explain my mirth.

He remains intrigued, if not worried.

And while on the topic of toilet paper and men: why is it that men will never, ever understand that females consume more toilet paper than males out of sheer physiological necessity? Why don't they get that we absolutely must wipe, when they can simply shake? I do my best to limit paper consumption and want to save the planet singlehandedly, but there are some things that simply are.

Men. Hmph.

As Evil Hubby and I were driving through the village one day, I was describing my fascinating new colleague in glorious, poetic and pretentious prose, using all the splendiferous and scintillating adjectives I could think of.

He interrupted me to say "The post box outside the school is no longer there".

WTF?! Men!

Letter From Ms. Mac

"Dearest Antipo,

Aiieeeeee! I have just remembered I left a big ball of disgusting (but washed and conditioned) hair (from my head - I don't condition my pubes) in your bathroom. I meant to discreetly hide it in the depths of your rubbish bin so you wouldn't have to deal with it!!!

Can you ever forgive me?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Please?"


I replied:

"Dearest Ms. Mac,

Forgive you?! You have honoured me! Darling, I have lovingly framed the faux pubes and am proudly displaying them for all the world to see!

But seriously, how funny that you would think of that now, 24 hours after the event, when really you should be deciding what to cook for lunch and dinner today. You are definitely a little strange, but that of course is why I love you so much, and is also a prerequisite to being My Friend.

Love and pubey kisses,
Antipo
xxx"

Must Avoid Buses Today

I'm praying I don't get knocked over by a bus today, more especially than any other day. I absolutely must manage to avoid any kind of incident which could result in my underwear being on public display, for the following reason:

I got dressed in rather a hurry this morning and was just a tad bleary-eyed from the surfeit of late nights and excess FUN! with my guests. I now find I am wearing a strange combination of floral "Mr Darcy" bra (the demure one with lacy curtains) and black silky, decidedly non-demure panties.

I'm not sure whether this would be perceived as quirky and eccentric (in a playful way), or just plain schizophrenic and strange (in a mentally disturbed way)... I'm voting for quirky and playful.

Party Animal

So this is what the hamster got up to during our recent absence.



I don't know whether I should be more worried about the hamster or the husband...

Beauty Is Supposedly In The Eye Of The Beholder, But...

I'm just a leetle bit tired of having throbbing hordes of unwashed commoners falling in love with me all the time, and writing dribbling Odes to my Fair Beauty (or is that only in my imagination?)


But anyway, in the interests of my peace and quiet, here is an entirely accurate portrait of me as I try to chat up an older man at Wellington Airport.


He rejected my advances.


I just can't understand it.




You're not so keen to come canoodling with me now, huh?