Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Letter to Miss Jay

Dear The Lovely Jay

I usually think of you when I see goats. But today, a jay flew into our garden, and I thought ‘Oooh! Miss Jay!’

This is a geais des chênes, so its plumage is not quite as striking as that of a blue jay. But still very pretty!

It was a feisty little bugger, and even picked a fight with a big, red-crested woodpecker, who dared to peck at the same bunch of Mirabelle plums hanging from our tree.

Much the same way I like to imagine you, with your pink hair, kicking the shit out of the difficulties that have been plaguing you recently.

Wishing you good health and that better days will come very soon.


Friday, August 17, 2007

Antipo Discovers Her Inner Prude

The enjoyment I get from wearing low-cut t-shirts and dresses has now been sullied by some unwanted attention.

The compliments on my cleavage came from a certain person of authority whom I see nearly every day, but neither in a domestic, nor a social setting, if you get my drift.

Sadly, I don’t fancy this person at all, at all! Am I a hypocrite then, to feel annoyed that he expressed his admiration? He seemed embarrassed the minute he blurted out his compliments, and I immediately felt uncomfortable and wished he had said nothing. I’m now keeping my distance from him as much as possible.

I suppose it’s the situation rather than the person that is the problem. Much as I love flashing my bosoms on the internet, with potential admirers at a safe distance (!), having the up close and personal admiration simply made me feel icky.

My own personal agony aunt, The Lovely Ms. Mac, advised me to keep dressing the way I like to dress, while maintaining a frosty demeanour, in order to torture this person. But I'm afraid that "Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen" may prove too true...

Sigh. So I’m heading to the dusty boxes in the attic to dig out my Victorian, high-necked ruffly blouses and ghastly, shapeless pinafore dresses dating back to 1983. Pix coming soon - I could do with a good laugh!

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Annoying Things About Me Meme

I know you are shocked that I could possibly find anything annoying about myself. I've had to rack my brians for weeks, to come up with something!

1) I’m an annoyingly light sleeper. I hear everything at night. This is annoying for me and annoying for my guests. If you are a guest in my house, I will be able to tell you in the morning:

- at what time you went to bed,
- whether you are a still or a restless sleeper,
- how many times you went to the toilet during the night,
- and probably what you did in there.

If I am a guest in your house, I will lie awake for hours identifying the new (to me) sounds, counting the patterns in your wall paper, and burning many expensive watts of electricity reading your favourite books. I will scare your children with my haggard face at breakfast. And when you politely enquire “Did you sleep well?”, I will invariably tell you truthfully that I slept badly, even though The Lovely Ms. Mac taught me that it is rude to do so. I can’t help being honest. Truth will out! Also, I’m looking for sympathy.

2) I laugh too loudly and too long (and sometimes too early) at my own jokes. But come on! They are the best!

3) I always flirt with my girlfriends’ husbands. I can’t help it! They are all so much more charming and communicative than Mr Grumpy Evil Blackheart. It's hardly my fault that my girlfriends have such good taste in men.

4) I really love the tasty little burps that rise in the back of my throat, hours after eating really tasty or spicy food (the coriander, chilli and peanut flavours of my satay sauce for example). Obviously I am a Fairy Princess and do not allow the burps actual egress. I stifle them. They are very small.

I don’t mean I’m annoying for having the burps, but what’s probably annoying is that I’ll insist on telling you about them, if you are standing next to me at the time.

5) I’m not a good listener. If you try to monopolise the conversation because you need to purge yourself of a traumatic event, or some inner suffering, I will nod frequently and adopt a sympathetic face - somewhat at odds with my distant gaze - while wondering how we can turn the conversation back to ME!

Letter To Berlinskiwi

Dear Berlinskiwi,

Please drop me a line at antipodeesse at yahoo dot fr and I'll be happy to send you an invitation for you-know-what...

... if you dare!

Best wishes,

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Jekyll and Hyde Ain't Got Nothing On Me!

Am seriously considering going to the doctor for something to deal with my monthly murderous rage. It only lasts a few hours every time, but it can't be good for the children. My heretofore completely useless strategy has been to check my diary and remind myself every month 'Don't forget, the murderous PMT will start any day now. Just try to stay calm and deal with it. Remember it won't last long.'

So yesterday was one of the worst ever. I started the day by screaming at the kids, who were fighting over the computer. I went and switched the PC off all together, in the middle of daughter's chat thingie with her brand new boyfriend. She will quite possibly never forgive me, even though I wrote the boy an e-mail to explain and apologise. She was allowed a long, lovey-dovey phone call with him, so I have partially redeemed myself.

We schlepped our overdue library books all the way to the Fonty library, only to discover it was closed. Of course it was. I bit my tongue and moaned quietly. I abstained from inflicting actual physical injury on anyone in the near vicinity.

I freaked out at the pharmacy because another mentally fragile customer in front of me was told very sharply indeed that he could not have more pills than were on his subscription. HE burst into tears, saying he had a train to catch and needed the meds for his holiday. I was so on edge myself that I couldn't cope with seeing another person's distress. So I ran outside before buying my paracetamol, just to escape that cauldron of seething emotions. The children trailed after me, saying "But Mummy,the lady was just about to serve you!"

I wanted to take the children to the movies, and offered them an ice cream first, to make the wait in the long cinema queue pass more pleasurably. My son got all anxious about how quickly he would have to eat the ice cream, thinking he must finish it before we got inside - he SERIOUSLY underestimated the length of the queue! He ummed and aaahed so long that I snapped "Jesus, you can't just answer Yes or No, can you? Well forget it then!"

I picked a fight with the woman behind me in the cinema queue: she was standing too close, so I asked her to give me some room because her bag was digging into my back. She denied having touched me at all. Silly bloody cow. Nobody fucks with Antipo on PMT day!


So today can only be heavenly in comparison...

My lovely cousin in NZ has advised me that Omega 3 fatty acid, which can be obtained from flaxseed oil has an effect on feelings of general well being, and can be extremely helpful for PMT. I am looking into it right now. It may keep me out of prison!