Love thy neighbour. Wouldn't it be better if I just gave them a cup of sugar?

I haven't been on friendly terms with my neighbours since I moved away from Dublin about seven years ago. In Dublin, people know if you fart in a different way to the way you did the day before and everyone feels like they know everyone. The whole neighbourly thing is just not the done thing in London where it's a cardinal sin to ask a stranger for directions nevermind acknowledge that there are people living next door to you. It is OK to fart like a trooper without saying pardon on public transport though but that's a whole other story...

Since we've been doing country living on the edge of London though, it's starting to feel like I know half the town. I can rarely leave the house without bumping into someone I know and it's kind of fun. People wave to you when you walk by the shops and they know me quite well in Waitrose because I can't stop going in the place...OK that and the fact that I threw up all over their store, keeled over, and writhed in agony in their first aid room.

Anyway...a few weeks ago I had to go and see my new neighbour because I was p*ssed of about them piling up lots of bins outside the side of our house. We ended up chatting and I forgot about it till yesterday when I opened the front door and he said "Do you remember that time when you said if there was anything we needed, I should just call over?"

I stared at him blankly and a thought popped into my head. "I was kinda thinking cup of sugar territory..."

"Er yes..."I said warily.

"Well we need you!" and he launched into a rather long story about how his girlfriend had hurt her neck, he'd called an ambulance, now they were back home but she couldn't do very much.

"Basically, can you go over there in about half an hour and put the kids to bed?" They're one and two and a half.

It took a few moments for the request to connect with my brain and I could feel myself blinking furiously and my face flushing. He stared at me with an imploring look.

"I..er...yes...OK" I said in false bravado.

I admit...there was a moment when I wondered if it was all a ploy and I was going to be sold into slavery. I phoned the boyf up and explained what had happened and suggested my theory. I was greeted with silence. "OK, OK...maybe not slavery but they better not be any of those freaky deaky country people that get you to put your keys in the bowl and get swinging...." More silence and then him making me promise I'd call as soon as I got home. Ah, maybe he was worried!

Half an hour later, the bambino was hovering by his kids bedroom door as the one year old shrieked the place down like there was some heap of murderation going down. Wrestling with me as I tried to carry her to the bedroom, I actually didn't know whether to laugh or throw myself on the floor. The bambino, normally one to be walking along by guiding herself around the furniture or emptying out the drawers, eyed me suspiciously.

As I finally managed to get the one year old into not one, but two sleepsuits (I had no idea some people dress their babies like this!), the bambino went into meltdown mode and started slapping my leg as if to say "Get your frickin hands off that baby!"

I was glad I was able to help out but my God it was stressful and awkward! The kids had no idea who the hell I was? The two and a half year old would start shrieking when I so much as even attempted to walk towards her cot! I was mor-ti-fied!

When I got home, I packed the bambino off to bed and had a glass of wine to mellow myself. How do I get myself in these situations?

On another note, an email from HMV has just notified me that my Wii Fitness will be arriving within 5 days! Yay!

On a totally different note, my ma ended the Cold War and came to visit last Thursday. The joys of having a baby mean that mamas with grudges have to let go of them if they want to see their grandchild! She keeps saying "It's ages since you've been around to visit" Er, yeah I know! You were frickin blanking me for nearly five weeks hence the lack of visits! Mothers!

Sometimes I think it would be so much better if my family actually WERE

Well it's been a crack filled couple of weeks that's for damn sure. I've decided that my family are crackhead nutters. I almost think I should shove a crack pipe in their face and make their madness legit.

My ma and I, well it's day 30 in My Ma is Not Speaking to Me Even Though There isn't a Legitimate Reason. She did call me on Day 21 but after doing the usual filling me on herself and her various shenanigans, things quickly disintegrated and it became apparent that unless I groveled and let everything slide, the battle lines would stay enforced. There was some heavy artillery brought out and I'm sad that we still can't see eye to eye, but I just can't be involved in the games or the crackness. It's funny sometimes...but actually, on the whole, it's all just rather draining. I love my family, but my own family has to come first, particularly the bambino.

Do you know how all of this started? Because I didn't want to get drawn into the constant arguments between herself and Dial M for Bro - the 22 year old Monosyllabic, Moody, and Mean. I also didn't appreciate the flippant comments about him possibly ending up living with us one day as I have no desire to raise a 22, almost 23 year old. I made my feelings perfectly clear - he is always welcome to stay over but he can't move in. It wouldn't be fair on us or the bambino. Of course they had another argument and he ended up at our place and I felt very backed into a corner as if being challenged to see if I meant what I said. Cue this whole pallava...

Anyway...since then, Dial M for Bro phoned me up one day looking for fifty quid in his brisk Dublin tones where you'd almost believe he was brought up in inner city Dublin, instead of going to a posh school and living in surburbia... I agreed for the sake of peace and quiet. This was at 5pm. I'm in my bed minding my own business, when my phone rings at 11.15. I answered it worriedly because people don't phone late unless there is something wrong. Right?

"Er..NML, remember that money I said I needed. Well, can I come round and get it now?"

"Have you lost your effing mind? I am in my bed!" I howled at him.

"Well you didn't have to answer your phone" he said petulantly.

"You didn't have to bleepin' call me did you?"

Of course I declined. I'm not a gangsta hanging around on street corners late at night. That and he would never have managed to get a train to mine and back...

Like a numpty, I spent half of the following day trying to reach him. Why the frick am I chasing somebody about borrowing money from me? I felt like Samuel L Jackson's mother in Jungle Fever!

I heard nothing and after a week, I heard the door knock and I answered it to find him on my doorstep. I was on the phone to a client so I let him in without a word. I got off the phone.

"To what do I owe this great pleasure?" I quipped.

"Er...do ya remember that money I said I needed. Well, I need it!"

I couldn't believe the fecking cheek of him and I let him have it with both barrels. I sometimes think that my crackerjacl family take me for a mug.

"Jeesus! Stop busting my balls!" he whined.

"You have no idea what busting is!" and I gave him one of those shrivel your nuts looks.

"I was thinking...you know, you all need to chill out man...You know...relax...let things go...You're all too uptight!" he said with a grin.

"Are you stoned?" He claimed that he wasn't and that he'd just woken up.

Does he think I just fell out of a tree?

So yeah, it's been a busy two weeks but I shall be back...I have been beavering away (that's working not my va-jay-jay) and there are a few big things going on that I will talk about soon..... Must go, the boyf's snoring with the rubbish vampire movie in the background is reminding me it's sleepy time!

She's still not speaking to me...so I shall bask in the silence!

Day 18 in NML's house, her ma is still ignoring her even though she has no reason.

Yep, it seems that peace and quiet will continue to reign. Whilst I have been irritated at her behaviour (OK p*ssed off) at times, I recognise that this is an opportunity to not have to cater to lots of drama and enjoy normality. There's no denying I love my ma but I don't like relationships with anyone where it's their way or the highway. If I was five and she could threaten me with a can of whupass then things would be different, but I'm thirty. Those times of expecting that I will say, do, and think as you want are over. I am a firm believer that if the only way you can have a relationship with me and be happy is if I only do things on your terms, then we can't have a relationship, that's why I stopped going out with assclowns.

Considering how many I dated in the past, I have been down the road of jumping to someone else's beat far too many times and the only beat I jump to, is my own now.

I must get one of those clocks for the blog which shows the number of days since she stopped speaking to me. The whole situation is so ridiculous it's funny!

In the meantime, the boyf has FINALLY put the bed back up after, oh I don't know, four months! Two more paintings have gone up and I've threatened to put them outside if he doesn't sort out the remainder. It just goes to show...periodical nagging does pay off...after a few months! Note to self: increase frequency of nagging and stop accepting excuses of bad back, sore toe, extra bone in the foot pain....

'Where's the tumbledryer?' has become the new 'Have you got a boyfriend?'

I'm going to shoot the boyf if he doesn't do all of the things around the house that he swears he's going to do every week. My ma bought us a tumbledryer nearly 3 weeks ago and it's sitting in the workshop outside..in the box. When she gave us the money for it originally she said "Now you'd better buy a tumbledryer. I'll want to see it!"
"Er...it's not like you're going to come around and ask where the tumbledryer is and I'll say it's popped to the shops!" I said in exasperation.

So now what's happening? Every frickin time my ma visits she asks about the tumbledryer! This is just like when I was single and my ma used to ask if I'd found a boyfriend...even if she'd spoken to me the day before! Every week I have to make up ridiculous excuses for my lazy boyf and in today's one I claimed that he'd hurt his neck. This is true (he slipped on the stairs yesterday) but that doesn't explain why he didn't set it up at the weekend. My ma's response? "He wasn't carrying the bambino was he?" and seeing me shake my head "Oh good".

His other 'crimes' include:

Going through a phase of buying 'art' on eBay and now my house is full of unhung paintings, some of which are behind the fridge. Every week he's promised that they will be hung up and they are still exactly where they have been for MONTHS!

Not unpacking his suitcase between trips. At the moment I am testing him to see how long it will take before he twigs that the suitcase fairy hasn't unpacked it and taken out his laundry.

Clogging up the TV harddrive with bloody HD wildlife programmes and then getting all twitchy about what I'm recording!

How many times can one person watch Face Off? Rambo? Demolition Man? and other stupid films that have people like Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal in them that only guys watch?


I got my bank statement this morning and noticed a lot of supermarket purchases. Curious, I added them up and was horrified when I realised that I'd spent £312 last month in my local supermarkets! That doesn't include any cash purchases I may have made or any of the visits the boyf made....I've decided that it's time for me to budget because not budgeting has me going in for a bottle of milk and coming back with £20 worth of groceries that I didn't need before I went in! Anyway...

The bambino is attempting to test my patience by ignoring my requests to behave herself. I know she's only 9 months or so but she understands 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' Right now she's gone out to the hall and suddenly realised that the front door makes it a dead end...Moments ago she was in the kitchen playing with the cat flap left by the previous residents and before that she was standing up watching TV at the TV stand and trying to figure out how to remove the Wii...

The boyf accused me of snoring last night. "I was snoring?"I said in disbelief. "Yeah you were!"he said gleefully. "Well I must have cold then!" I said firmly and he cracked up laughing. Well why else would I be snoring....?

I have to go...the bambino is pulling out one nappy wipe after another and eating them....

White socks and black trousers, a nose for a robbery, and not recognising flirting

I dragged myself down to my local Carphone Warehouse yesterday as I desperately needed a new mobile phone. OK, desperately is a bit of an exaggeration...but one phone has been on the blink for the past few weeks due to attack of bambino saliva and the other is my phone from my long-standing employer, The Evergrowing Media Owner. I don't like restrictions or being scared that a whopping bill will arrive for excess charges plus I reason that the new freelancing me needs a phone that can cope with email... I'm sure you can see where this is heading.

Within seconds of speaking to the sales guy, he confessed that he is a white sock and black trouser wearer (I have the heebee jeebees just thinking about it) in response to me telling him off for trying to sell me a pink mobile phone. I like pink but it doesn't define my womanhood and I certainly don't need pink products around the house to balance out the 'manly' looking products. That...and I wanted a Blackberry.

"You'd better not be wearing white socks now or I'm not buying anything off you" I quipped. "It'd be like buying something from a guy with a combover...." and we cracked up laughing.

As I waited for him to finish another sale, I noticed three youths looking a bit dodgy behind me.

"They look a bit dodge...I bet they're casing the joint...God he looks like he hasn't washed for a week...Oh f*ck I think he thinks I'm staring at him...LOOK DOWN...Actually brazen it out and act like you're drooling over the iphone..."

They left a few minutes later and they were promptly forgotten. Half an hour later with the sales guy advised on style tips for dating, I left with my Blackberry. Less than half an hour later I had to go back to the store as the sim card didn't seem to fit and when I got to the door, it was locked. The sales guy appeared at the door looking a bit scared and let me in.

"You having a private party or something?" I joked.
"Remember those guys that looked shifty earlier?"
I nodded warily.
"They just robbed the store and made off with all the iphones!"

I KNEW it! My spidey senses coupled with my detective skills honed on too many episodes of Law and Order and CSI have given me a knack for spotting dodgy youths that rob iPhones.

"Hah!" I said triumphantly to the boyf later. "There you are thinking I'm a snob and it turns out that I'm just a damned good detective!" I declared. "

"Once! You got it right once!" he said in mock exasperation.
"What-e-ver! This is just the one we know about!" I giggled.

"Was that guy flirting with you? Why is he telling you about his white socks and black trouser thing?" the boyf teased.

"Oh pur-lease! Do I look like the type of woman that gets turned on by that sh*t!? He wasn't flirting! He just wanted to chat and get style tips!"

"Oh my God! You don't even know when a guy is flirting with you anymore!" and we cracked up laughing.

To be fair, I am so caught up in my own little world that when guys smile at me, wave, or even beep, I just think they're being...oh I don't know...I didn't even think about it before but it seems like there is some truth to the boyf's statement....

I had to go back to the store this morning because it turns out that there was something wrong with the phone. I left with the newer version which has GPS...at no extra charge. Result!

I have sworn to the boyf that I will not become addicted to my Blackberry.... Did I ever tell you about the Great Blackberry Incident? When I went back to work for four whole days at the beginning of January, in the midst of the debacle, my director took me out for lunch to woo me. The whole frickin time he was on the Blackberry and just as I'm talking about a really sensitive point, his eyes glaze over and I can see him staring behind me. I stopped talking. "Oh sorry...I think I just spotted Lesley Phillips sitting behind you..." I stared at him blankly. "From the Carry On Films...you know 'Oh be-have'...Or maybe it's..." and he continued debating with himself about who it was and then said "I'll just take a picture and send it..." I swear that won't be me!

Assclown Watch: I'm watching you watching me and I'll take you down to Chinatown...well not really...

I think it would be too much of a leap to claim that I have a stalker (a different one...)...but it would be safe to say that I have a creepy follower.

Now I have really tried not to be suspicious and jump to conclusions because, well...ah feck it...I have jumped to conclusions. The boy is too fecking weird for my liking.

Let me explain. I live in a town in Surrey that is pretty 'white'. That means that there aren't very many black folk around and when I first moved here, I was keeping a tally of each black person I came across... Anyway, I digress... Now when you're black, there are two things that can potentially happen when you come across other black folk in places where there aren't many...

1) You do 'the nod' or 'the smile' which says "I know that you know that we know we're black and we're in a white area and we should be nice and polite and acknowledge each other". The key here is acknowledgment. Example, I was in Palma a few years ago and a black guy nodded and smiled at me even though he was with his girlfriend. "Why did that guy just nod at me and smile?" I asked my aunt. "Lucky you! That was Nigel Benn!" she exclaimed.

2) Certain folk assume that you must want to be best buddies because you're brown. Example, when I lived in Ireland, complete strangers would walk up to me and say "Hello my sista". Now most of the time you don't mind but when some guys would get a bit frisky, I'd want to get a bit gangsta... The overt example is that when I was at uni, there were a group of black guys that assumed that because I was one of two black women, I must want to shag them all and one attempted to treat me as his property...

3) You ignore each other. I don't do this as it's a bit extreme and some fools will call you a 'coconut' or 'Uncle Tom' if you don't at least do 'the smile'...

Anyway, I have totally digressed!

Last Friday as I went to get the train to see Chris Rock, I got a weird feeling that someone was watching me. I half looked behind me and noticed an awkward looking black guy a few paces behind me who quickly looked down. A minute or so later as I approached the station entrance, I looked behind me for no particular reason and he quickly ducked and hid behind the pillar outside Waitrose! I paused with the pushchair and looked again and he peeked out again and then sort of ducked by the trolleys!

Now what type of man in his right mind, even if it was totally innocent, pulls that type of rinky dink, assclown, bullsh*t?

I forgot all about him till a couple of days ago when I was walking up to Waitrose (yes I know I am addicted to the bloody place...) and I looked behind me as I crossed the road and could NOT believe my eyes as my 'follower' freaked out, tried to duck out of the way and avoid my glance and nearly got himself run over by oncoming traffic! If I hadn't been so shocked, I would have pissed myself laughing! I looked behind me again a few moments later and he was waiting to cross the road and looking seriously agitated and kept looking in my direction and then quickly looking at the oncoming traffic.

I told the boyf who was howling with laughter. "Are you sure he's all there?" he laughed.
"I don't frickin know but if he's freaked out by seeing someone else who's black in the town, he's being a bit extreme about avoiding me!" and we cracked up laughing.

All joking aside, I'm on asslown watch. I am being careful and checking that I'm not being followed home as I want to play it safe and not let him know where I live. He's lucky I have a sense of humour...and a black belt in karate...(joking)...

Is it coz I is black? No I'm not effing pregnant Miss I'm Too Old To Be Wearing Braces!

So in the past few days, I've fulfilled my dream of seeing Chris Rock live (it was amazing), got glared at by a bunch of girls in audience who were goggled eyed that M and I were clearly out with Alan from Random Burblings...who is white, got a bit drunk on champagne and MJ danced to Billie Jean in front of an entire 40th birthday party, been asked "So how long have you got left to go?" by the black version of Betty Suarez (Ugly Betty), and finally done some exercise. Woohoo!

Chris Rock made me laugh so hard in parts, I actually thought I might wet myself laughing or puke. His style is like watching one of those crazy preachers that have snakes or that 'heal' people and demand that the person in a wheelchair "WALK!". The guy didn't even take a sip of water during his almost hour and twenty minute performance!

It's been a while since I had the whole 'I'm staring at you because I think you're going out with that white dude' look and the last time I got that was when I was out with my stepdad a few years ago...who is in his early sixties. Clearly they thought I was a Jamaican Mail Order Bride.... As M and I followed Alan and his son to the seats, the cheeky bitches were staring and pointing. It took me a few seconds to twig what was going on and M and I were pissing ourselves laughing. In hindsight, I realise I should have started throwing my arms around Alan so I could give them a heart attack. Jaysus...you'd never believe that it was 2008 and that some folk do intermingle...or as MSlash has coined it, 'cross pollinate'...

I've never understood when people think that they need to premise a conversation with you by touting their black credentials. This guy a couple of seats down started trying to talk to M and he quickly squeezed in "I'm mixed race you know. I have black lips". Hilarious! What did he expect M to say? "Ok, you may now enter the court of blackness"

On Saturday we went to the boyf's cousins fortieth. She hired a marquee for her back garden and laid on the booze, so who was I to say no to repeated glasses of champagne. People had been egging me on to pull a few moves all evening so I couldn't say no of course, and did a few crotch grabs, high kicks, moon walks, and glove moves. I think I pulled a muscle in my thigh though...

Earlier in the evening, I'd been sitting there minding my own business when the black version of Ugly Betty (who by the way I'd never spoken to before), kneels at my feet and says "So how long have you got to go?" I stared at her blankly and she added, "You know...your bump..."

F******CKING HELL! Now I know that I have a bit of a tummy but I am telling you right now that I DO NOT LOOK PREGNANT!

"I'm not pregnant...I've already had my baby...seven and a half months ago..." I said looking her squarely in the eye as I didn't want to stare too long at the braces.
"Oh....is it a boy or a girl?" she asked without showing a flicker of embarrassment.

She tried to make conversation but the whole 'You just basically implied that I'm fat and now you want to make small talk with me' vibe hung in the air... Maybe I should have made small talk and asked her what time her parents were coming to collect her....

So of course, I dragged myself hungover to the teeth to Woolworths on Sunday and brought Davina's High Energy Five. I managed to do the warm up and most of the aerobics workout. If only I could turn the sound down so I didn't have to listen to Davina being goofy... I would have done all of the workout, but I was so hot that I was convinced my menopause had arrived early and then the bambino threw a mega strop. I forgot to do it this morning so I shall do my workout this evening instead. Let's not dwell on the fact that I had banoffee pie yesterday and a caramel slice today. I have had a c-section you know!

I'm Doomed Never To Exercise So I Guess I'd Better Have a Mars Bar

A few years ago, back in my single days, I bought an exercise video which I used a few times...OK...I won't lie...I used it once...and then it gathered dust until a couple of days ago when I decided that I really must start doing some exercise. I was just about to order a new dvd (there are just so many to choose from and 99.9% of them done by Z list celebrities who probably had one of those gastro ringy things put in) when I remembered that I actually own several exercise DVDs...all used once...or not at all...

Exercise and I don't really mix. Until I was 27, I had only ever been to a gym once and it was to get my nails done and have a sauna on my 18th birthday. Then I took steroids for my sarcoidosis and gained a lorra lorra water and decided that I had to join the gym. I lasted three months and as soon as it got warm and I kept getting invited to pubs in Soho and pretty much anywhere that involved me not doing any exercise but getting drunk, I stopped going. Then I got sick again and I couldn't actually do very much without being in pain so I cancelled the gym membership.

Roll on almost three years and I've had a c-section (HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN I'VE HAD A C-SECTION? is my favourite line for when I want to escape being in trouble for something with the boyf) and I kept forgetting to do the exercises. The bambino did her best to suck the weight out of me via my breasts but unfortunately I am now responsible for getting a flattish stomach again.

The trouble is that I like food and I live about a three minute walk from Waitrose which is as bad as living close to a Marks and Spencer. I don't do starving, I don't do boring food, and I don't do exercise. Have I mentioned that there is a gym on my corner? I look out the window each day and think "Hmmm, maybe I should join the gym?" and then I take a bite of Waitrose Millionaire Shortbread or my Mars Icecream and think "Ah f*ck it..."

But it's a bit annoying being my old size (size UK 8) with a gut. I've gotten very good at sucking in my tummy. 4 days of hard labour at work (clearly I'm piss taking about the hard labour) got me very practised at hiding my baby tummy.

So stretching to a DVD seemed like a great idea but it seems I am doomed never to exercsise. I put it in the XBox 360 this morning and went straight to the warm up and exercise routine and the fecking thing said "attempting to read the disc". So after waiting a few minutes, I put it on the introduction. This turned out to be a good idea as it shows you some of the basic moves but I realised I'd forgotten to put my trainers on when I kicked out with my leg, brought it back down, and slid across the floor in a split like manouver because I was doing it in my woollen slippers....

Then it froze again on the warm up...

I took it out of the fecking Xbox, wiped the scratches and put it back in. For the next five minutes it wouldn't even get off the title screen until I realised that I'd absentmindedly picked up a different Xbox controller which wasn't turned on so of course I couldn't change anything on the screen.

It froze again so I thought I'd surf the net for a few minutes whilst the bambino rolled around my feet. Then FINALLY fifteen minutes later, the warm up decided to come to life. I leapt up excitedly but seconds later, Micah Bo (some dodgy black guy in too tight cycling shorts and a dodgy vest showing his pecs) went into slow motion robot moves and his instructions started to sound like a robot on its last legs.

"OH F*CK IT! I GIVE UP!" I yelled to no-one and then remembered that the bambino was there.

So it seems I am destined never to exercise. Either that or I need to root out another dvd...

In the meantime, the bambino has been taxing me by throwing up on my mobile phone, pulling the lamp down, refusing to have her lunch, having a hissy fit, refusing to nap, and breaking my chain....

Crunk and disorderly on my road trip

I had a great road trip with the boyf, the bro, and the bambino at the weekend. We sang along to Whitney and Michael Jackson all the way to the wedding and on the way back we did Lionel Richie, Madonna, and Stevie Wonder. There were so many great songs but our favourites were definitely Whitney's "I have nothing", Whitehead Brothers "Your love is a 187", Michael's "Lady in my Life", "Billie Jean" and "Rock With You" and Lionels "Endless Love". I saw some people in passing cars staring at us as we danced and sang like maniacs on the journey. The bambino was thankfully unbothered by our shrieking...I mean singing...and slept for most of the journeys.

We arrived after the wedding had started and the bro had to do a quick change behind the car on what must be one of the coldest days of the year. "God, it was lucky I decided to wear pants today..." I'm sure the neighbouring houses thought the same thing...

Despite being just under 8 stone (112lbs) and wearing a dress that should have disguised the little that is left of my post pregnancy/c-section bump, I was open mouthed when my aunt, who I must point out is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay bigger than me said "So you're pregnant with number two now then?" I flounced back to the table in a huff and told the boyf and Daddy G piped up behind him. "Oh I had thought that too!" Feeling safe as my mother was engrossed in a long winded conversation with another guest I sniped "Oh shut up! Sure you'll be having your own baby soon, or hasn't she told you?" I quipped and winked in my mums direction. He looked visibly ill (actually so did the boyf)... "Just joking!" I added just as he looked like he was going to break into a cold sweat...

The speeches were quite good and when it got to the open mic bit, my cousin and I decided that we should lead from the front for us young un's. It was only when he grabbed the mic from the MC and lurched forward that it occurred to me that he was way past drunk. "I jushhh want to shay a few words but I should warn you, I'm a bit druuuunk...." as my crackerjack aunts stared at him and shot daggers through him. "I'm speaking for the younger people in the room...of which there aren't many..." and the bro and the boyf buried their heads in laughter. I actually don't remember what I said but my ma had tears in her eyes at the end (Was that motherly pride, the vino, or both?) and the bride and groom were very pleased.

I knew I must be very drunk when I realised that I was trying to get down and grind to the music later that evening with a glass of white wine sloshing around in one hand...and my other arm firmly clutching the bambino to my waist... Thankfully she's quite adaptable and when I decided that it was time to get even more obliterated, she settled into her car seat at our table, squealed in excitement for a while and then passed out into a deep sleep.

If you've ever been to a proper black wedding you get either one or both of two things: lots of people winding and grinding to reggae, revival, and eighties soul....even if they're eighty...or you get full on batty shaking, knee breaking, body popping, shape throwing moves. This wedding had both and unfortunately we have a picture of my ma and Daddy G doing the former...The boyf and the bro looked like they were going through an agonising death and I followed their stares to my ma and Daddy G who seemed lost in the music and were dancing (or should I say grinding) achingly slow. I tottered over wobbly with booze. "Do you two have to dance like overgrown teenagers? I'd tell you to get a room but I don't want to imagine that...." My ma was giggling away like a cheshire cat and out of the corner of my eye I could see the bro pretending to gag.

There was one guy who was in his early twenties and was trying to grind my aunts and pull one of my step sisters. As we were leaving, I found him creeping around her and I got a bit crunk and disorderly. "Oi! Tell that slimey little perve to get his hands off you!" I howled at her. Cue me trying to follow them up to the balcony and the boyf trying to hold me back whilst the bro nearly wet himself laughing. As I wobbled out to the car, I had a really good bitch about the little perv only to realise that my grandad was walking behind me and for once he had his hearing aid turned up properly. "You didn't realise I was here, did you?" he smiled and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

I got even more drunk when I got back to my cousins and apparently after I fell asleep in the deckchair (he's just moved in), I kept trying to join the conversation in my sleep. Later the boyf helped me up to bed. "Are you going to sleep in your clothes?" he asked and after contemplating the possibilities of sleeping in my dress and tights, I sat up. Determined to get changed as quickly as possible, I tried to pull off my tights forgetting that I was sitting down and somehow managed to fall onto the floor between the wall and the bed and then in my attempt to get back up pulled the lamp and everything else off the bedside table. The boyf laughed so hard I thought he was going to get sick and when he finally managed to get me out of my tangle, the bambino was awake, staring at me with a very reproachful look. I think we had a bit of parent child role reversal going on....

Hmmm I'm a Housewife, Countdown to Family Drama

It was 9.30 last night and I finished putting away all of the clean laundry, I suddenly thought "F*cking hell! I'm a bloody housewife!" Now before anyone gets the wrong idea, I was not doing housework all day into the dead of night and instead I am a 'victim' of my own pisspoor time management. There were invites to sort for the impending christening, blogging to do, a 45 minute bitching session with Nac, amongst other pressing matters... As I listened to the bro explain lengthily about his love of Girls of the Playboy Mansion and "booty clapping" to the boyf, I stopped feeling worried that not going to work is making my brain go soft....

With less than 3 weeks to go until the bambino's christening, it is only a matter of time till I go into meltdown. Sometimes it feels like we're always in the middle of the next big thing. As I visusalise most of our families coming together, (the boyf's, my ma's, and my dads) I hear circus music as this has the possibility of fireworks...explosions even... This is going to be one big crackfest and I'm curious as to what's going to go down.

Will my ma and dad be speaking to each other or will she be scared that he'll show her up like he did at my birthday? Will there be fight for Caribbean or African supremacy? Will there be a dance off? Will the bambino do a poo during the baptism? Who will get pissed out of their head and say something inappropriate? Will the grandmothers be competing? Will my ma be having a hot date? Will the boyf and I be hiding at the back of the room snickering to ourselves at the mayhem of our beloved friends and family? Will there be a fight for the jerk chicken and patties? Cue dramatic music and closing credits.... Hmm I may need a holiday after this christening...or a security detail....

Ooh, before I forget...I am finally getting round to redesigning my blog so if you land here over the next few days and think I'm on crack, it's just a temporary glitch...

Wedding Shenanigans

On Saturday we attended another wedding, this time with my friend and work colleague Q and her husband. I'm sure that the boyf and her husband were feeling nervous as they know how much we can misbehave...and we certainly didn't let them down...

The wedding was due to start at 12.30 "European Time not Sierra Leone Time" it specified on the invite. The boyf was still in the shower at 12.30 and at 12.45, Q called to say that they were in the pub. When we finally rocked up at 2pm with the bambino in tow, the wedding had only started ten minutes beforehand... Of course by then, the bambino was due for a feed and after cooing along (yet again) during the vows, she went into one of her hunger hissy fits and I had to rush her out of the church. As I fed her in the car, an elderly man took a good peek at my boob in the car and when he passed it he looked back, so I yelled out the window "Are you getting a good enough view?!" He quickened his pace and there was no more looking back!

As luck would have it, we were all sitting together and we had a good giggle whilst the bambino had a snooze in her car seat. As the speeches started, the bambino woke up, so the boyf and his bro whisked her off. Admittedly us ladies were a bit bored with the speeches which seemed to go on forever because they were open mic. However, much giggling ensued when the bride opened up her speech by thanking her boss (Q's husband) for coming along at the top of her speech! As we continued to snort with laughter, he gave us one of those warning looks, so we calmed ourselves down. Then an elderly woman did a heartfelt speech and at the end, we heard Q say "Ooh, she rhymed!" which made us collapse in giggles again.

AM, my future sister-in-law and I became engrossed in a whispered conversation with one ear on the speeches, when we both froze in horror as the words took root in our mind. "...she has waited eleven years...both have waited...she came to me when there were problems in the relationship. At one point things were not working out between them....Told her to have faith in the Lord and not to lose her virtue..." Q, AM, and I looked at each other in horror and I looked around at the guests and felt the air being sucked out of the room. Q and AM were clutching me and we were trying so hard not to laugh. This woman had just told the entire wedding party that the bride was a virgin and was pretty much airing out their private dirty laundry in public! Then the words of the groom "We have waited a very long time for this day..." and the father of the bride "I asked her what she wanted to do now that she had graduated and she said she wanted to get married and I told her NO" all came rushing back to me. At the first opportunity, we made a hasty exit from the room so that we could let out the pent-up laughter.

After dropping the bambino home to her grandpa (we didn't waste much time in availing of his babysitting services) we headed back to the reception with AM and the boyf's bro. Q had been carted off home as she was quite drunk after being on the vino since lunchtime, so it was left to AM and I to pick up the troublesome reins. I leaped to my feet when I heard MJ and we hit the dancefloor, checking to make sure the boyf wasn't looking before breaking out a few MJ moves. We were the only people on the dancefloor so it was quite funny when people started clapping. The DJ was pretty awful so nobody danced very much, and it's unfortunate that we'll be remembered as the girls who raced up to the dancefloor when LL Cool J's "Doin It" and Akon's "I wanna love you" which turned out to be "I wanna %$*% you"... Clearly I was overexcited by being out as I even danced on my own at our table whilst we waited for AM to return from the bathroom before we left.

We decided to go home and as we said our goodbyes, AM and I stopped to talk to the groom who was in his evening garb of traditional African dress. His mother was standing behind him in a long evening dress with a fishtail (not literally) that would have done Crystal Carrington from Dynasty proud. As we chatted, I found myself staring through the cut-outs of his top and seeing his nipples and chest hair. Before I knew it, I heard a mental thought becoming a verbal one as I said "Oooh, you don't have anything on underneath your top!" He and his mother stared at me in amusement as AM and I started to howl with laughter. Thank goodness they were good humoured about it as AM and I were carted off by our boyfriends. Outside, the boyf and his bro were cracking up laughing as we recounted the days entertainment. As we tried to pull out of our parking space, a woman advised us that a car had broken down and we'd have to maneuver around it and for some reason this made us laugh even harder.

At home as my head swam and tried to get out of my heels, I said to the boyf "I didn't make a show of you did I?" and he laughed and said "God no. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself!" and as I wobbled around he added "Will I help you upstairs..." and I thought 'Thank God I have a boyfriend who is chilled out and let's me be myself' followed very quickly by 'Hmmm, I wonder if they're consummating their marriage yet....'