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Avon Calling????

Jul. 4th, 2010 | 08:46 pm
mood: chipperchipper

So, I don't really know anyone in Rochester. Apart from the people that live in our house. They're all cool. :)

I'm also very, very anti social for some reason. I have a shyness and social inaptness which makes it much easier to roll around on the floor thumping someone than holding a conversation with them.

I'm attempting to overcome this as it does tend to result in social isolation, which is fine for me but not for the kids. Plus I need social skills to help them to develop the same.

So far I have joined playgroups or similar for four days out of seven for Evan. I even spoke to some of the other mothers. Today I was on a roll and struck up two whole conversations at Evan's toddler rugby group. I've never struck up a conversation of my own bat at one of these things before.

I've gone back to thai boxing and grappling because, well, hitting someone or choking the breath out of them is a social medium that I'm still more comfortable with than chatting pleasantly. Apparently I was impressive for doing this 3 weeks post partum but actually, see my previous points... I do it for the social contact.

This week I peaked. Some random women knocked on my door and said "Become an Avon Rep." So I said... "I really don't know anyone to flog stuff to." They explained that I could take brochures round locally and I thought.... hrmm: social contact, I'm supposed to be doing that. So I said "Yes!"

Apparently I'm an Avon Rep. If I ever phoned anyone I would start saying "Avon calling" but, naturally, I don't phone people.

So there it is. I have a degree in Genetics, a masters in Physics, my hobbies are punching and throttling people and I sell makeup.

If you need advice on how to create incredible fighting superheroes that look amazingly pretty... call me.

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It's oh so quiet, it's oh so still.

Jun. 21st, 2010 | 11:08 pm
location: Home
mood: peacefulpeaceful
music: None. None at All.

I'm used to noise at the moment. Evan is an enthusiastic toddler who is spoiling to be a teenager. No really, he sleeps late and wanders round the living room in his PJs with his rock guitar posing in ways that Slash and Jimi Hendrix would be in awe of. He seems to have inherited the Welsh musical gene that skipped the last two generations but did see my grandmother through a music degree in Cardiff 70 odd years ago. This does mean that he likes a constant backdrop of music or musical kids' programes.
Then there's the perpetual noise of the football when there's an interesting world cup match that Dave likes to watch. I can't get into the sport at all. It's a bit to hands off (it's not rugby and it's not fighting.. what can I say :) )
After a day full of baby Hendrix and an hour or so of football crowd noise, I generally am getting a bit of a headache from all the sensory stimulation. Dave does like a lot more light than I do, I'd literally sit in the dark if left to my own devices so that helps tip the sensory overload.
It's a big difference to the life I used to have. Hell, I moved to Scotland and lived on the north coast for five years. I remember one Christmas and New Year when I didn't see or speak to anyone for nearly two weeks. I'm pretty antisocial and find socialising hard. Hence the semi recluse mode in my mid twenties.
Tonight was pretty lovely. Dave was at his weekly role play session, Evan was in bed. It's the solstice and I sat in the living room with the lights and the TV off while the sun slowly, slowly went down. The headache evaporated. The baby on my shoulder slept and wafted milk breath up at me from time to time. My kitchen smelt of cakes I'd just cooked. It was peaceful. It was even more peaceful in the garden at dusk when I pulled in our washing line of clothes. You could feel, taste and smell the summer.:)
Sometimes I think all I need is a little silence. :)

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Appalling BBC journalism

Mar. 4th, 2010 | 06:00 am
mood: geekygeeky

Birth defects in Fallujah

I can't believe the narrowness of the view taken by the journalist here.

If you bulldoze half a city into a river, the chances are that it will contain some significant teratogens in the building materals or the substances held in those buildings.

Surely that is more likely than top secret weapon useage with unidentified teratogenic effects? Especially at the levels being discussed.

But then, weapons are bad, m'kay, it must be thier direct effect rather than the result of the ensuing destruction....

At least depleted uranium wasn't mentioned.

I may have lapsed into geek mode. I got upset with NCIS suggesting a radioisotope marker would give a unique signature on a geiger counter last night. You need a sodding spectrometre for that! A GM tube will just pick up volumes of gamma or beta emmissions, not their keV levels.

Do research or write somethng else. Don't insult my intelligence with lazy journalism or plot. This is why I couldn't watch the X files. Or 24. And apparently now the news.

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We're moving. Oh Yeah Baby

Feb. 3rd, 2010 | 12:18 pm
mood: ecstaticecstatic

After moving to Kent in late 2008, with the intention of selling our house and buying soemthing appropriate, I signed the contract for the sale of my house today.


We did six months of covering rental and mortgage fees when the recession hit and the bottom fell out of the first time buyer market.

We did nearly a year as landlord while being tennants ourselves. We then did a month solid of repairs and redecoration.

We've done a few months of rent and mortgage again.

Finally, it looks like the mortgage will be put to bed and we should be able to sign for our new place in a few weeks.

I can't say how much I'm looking forward to the grand a month savings that moving is going to give us. Hopefully enough to boost maternity leave savings and to be comfortable when I go back to work (even after childcare fees)

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What I did in the last decade

Jan. 3rd, 2010 | 07:51 pm
mood: peacefulpeaceful

It's been a long ten years.

I owned a cottage in the country with a view of the North Atlantic.
Went skinny dipping in the midnight sun on the summer solstice in the North Atlantic, then went back in at 2am because the sun was back up.
Cotracted bronchitus (see above solstice idiocy).
Became Operations Manager for two (small) nuclear facilities by the age of 27.
Saw some amazing winter storms.
Collided with 3 red deer in two different cars.
Walked home with the sunset behind me, the moon rise to one side of me, stars to the other side and the northern lights ahead of me whilst smelling peat being lit in the villiage fires.
Cooked a christmas dinner of roast duck on my range stove for myself and friends with a christmas tree cut from my garden.
Walked to a clearance village a few miles across the moor from my house, it was the most silent and peaceful place I have ever been.
Watched salmon jumping upstream then shopped in Harrods in the Highlands with Hilary and Tim.
Surfed in the north atlantic with Hilary and Tim and got stung by quite a few jelly fish.
Went to the Orkney Isles.
Visited a few distilleries and sampled a lot of whisky.
Learned to ride a motorbike, and wheelied a 125cc during my CBT.
Skied in -30 C on christmas day in the mountains in Norway whilst drinking jagermeister to keep warm.
Trained martial arts in Claifornia.
Became a trades councilor for my town.
Moved home to Wales after suffering five years of intermittently intense Hireath.
Jumped industries and disciplines into health and safety.
Bought a good, old fashioned welsh stone terrace with a view over the valley and was immensley happy there.
Started training in MMA rather than traditional martial arts.
Met up with old friends, one of whom moved in to house share and gave me a lot of fun and chaos.
Got in contact with a particular old friend from university and realised I was on a date with him.
Got chartered as a Health and Safety Professional.
Got divorced after a long and intermittent separation.
Fell in love and got engaged.
Won a national grappling competition in my class at Seni, giving away a stone and a half in weight and doign it in 37 seconds.
Cornered several cage fighters.
Helped run shows.
Had 3 possible opponents pu;l out on me for a cage fight.
Transferred to thai boxing in addition to the grappling biased MMA for a more well rounded approach.
Lost to bigger opponents in a grappling competition.
Had thai interclub fight with someone one and half times my weight.
Trained more and ended up fighting my first pro thai boxing fight, loosing the decison.
Found out we were having a baby a week after being in the ring.
Dave moved in with me.
Judged a few cage fights, sometimes knitting jumpers for my son-to-be between bouts.
We had a beautiful little boy naturally and I couldn't walk afterwards, Dave had a phone interview while I was in the bath with the midwife, he rescheduled.
Dave got a job in Maidstone and I started looking.
I passed a job interview with a 6 week old baby being looked after in the car by my mum (still no idea how).
We moved to Maidstone with our 8 week old son, where we watched him grow into a charming little monkey over the next two years.
We got hit by the recession and managed to keep a house in Wales and a house in Maidstone afloat for 6 months.
We became landlords for our family home to stave off the pressures of the recession. It meant we only lost a few thousand on the house in a year (not including recession fuelled depreciation).
We went on our first family holiday to the Gower in Wales. It was beautiful. We stayed in a cottage called The Pigsty. We spent one day at Rhosilli Bay and found wedding rings in a little gallery at the top of the cliffs.
I managed to impress the directors I worked for enough for them to give me a team of five professional staff, all of whom were older than me, several of whom had failed to get my job as internal candidates.
I realised I still had difficulty after having Evan and that sport may not be part of my life again.
We got married. Dave let me do it in Wales, which made me very happy. Dave wanted a big white wedding. I took it literally when I ordered a wedding dress.
We went on honeymoon to Istanbul. It was beautiful and wonderful. One day we will go back with the children.
We found out we were going to be parents again. It was wonderful and still scary. I spent two months in bed vomitting.
Our tennants moved out of our home. It was trashed. We redecorated. My pelvis gave up. Someone offered to buy our house within 7 days.
We found a new house to buy in Rochester. Hopefully it shall soon be ours.
I started walking on crutches.
We took Evan to panto. It scared him but he had a flashing sabre which he loved.
Mostly I spent the last part of the decade with two men that I love more than life itself, Dave and Evan. I'm hoping to spend the next decade with three of them.

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Having it Easy

Oct. 2nd, 2009 | 03:38 pm
mood: angryangry

One of my outlaws accused me of having it easy today.

I happened to be working from home as I was too sick to get to work. Apparently not having my son home with my while I try to work and vomit is having it easy.
I guess working full time and seeing my son for 2 hours a day is having it easy.
I imagine struggling to keep two houses afloat throughout a recession because one won't sell is having it easy.
I suppose a job that puts you from Maidstone to Corby, to Carlisle, to Gretna Green, to Colchester, to Maidstone in a space of a week on your own mileage is damn easy.

I so wish I had the hard plight of other outlaws in my family of desperately working from home slamming a few bits of data entry into a computer for a few hours and having their child with them all day or just staying at home with my children and getting a maid to come and clean up the house regularly. Maybe then I'd know what "not having it easy is".

Said outlaw was stunningly surprised when I didn't offer him the above information and just offered to break his nose if he ever came out with that statement in my physical presence.


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Monica: the genius.

May. 17th, 2009 | 10:01 pm

Since having Evan, things like walking have been difficult. Most things hurt. Stupid, tiny little things hurt. Picking my son up: ow. Walking around: ow. Getting nudged by Dave while we're sleeping: ow, ow OW!

Its been hard getting my head around the notion. One week before we realised that we were having Evan, I was in the ring, kicking, punching, ducking and diving. I'd been training 6 days a week for a long, long time. Sport was pretty much my life. Adjusting to the reality that just walking around was going to be hard afterwards has been a lot to get my bloody minded mentality around. It took climbing off a treadmill and nearly collapsing in pain after a run quite a few times to make me realise my pelvis truly is unstable. Its not always made me the nicest person to be around.

I ended up developing a strange relationship with exercise. I love it and miss it. I think I genuinely used to have an endorphin addiction. I'm also scared of it. The pain hurts, not like getting smacked in the face (easy) but a long, lingering, grating pain that mocks in way that cuts. Watching women jogging past us on a day in the park makes me sad, angry and full of jealousy.

I have good days and bad days. My joints have been dodgy since I was 24. The radical amount of exercise used to help keep the joints supported and mobile. That's no longer the case. I get flare ups which can make things a lot worse. Walking on a stick for a few weeks this year was not fun.

This is a positive post though. I've seen a couple of physiotherapists and three osteopaths since having Evan. A couple of weeks ago, I switched osteopaths at the learning school which I have been using. I now have a very nice german lady called Monica. She came up with a blindingly simple suggestion: "You like sport, why not try it with a support belt". Completely logicial and simple. Yet something I'd never considered.

Today, I got off the treadmill after a short run in tears. It was the first one in nearly two years which didn't hurt. The disbeleif mounted and mounted as I waited for the thudding to start really hurting but the pain didn't come.

Monica is a genius and I'm looking forward to my first full mile.

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Dec. 10th, 2008 | 11:30 am

Think I may be in an episode of Survivors. Possibly the one where everyone is dying.

Have flu. Fever has now broken after five f*$!@*! days. I just have a bit of a temperature now. I have a complimentary chest infection too. This involves panting a bit a coughing up blood. The cracks in the back of my throat appear to have healed up though. Yeay.

Tip to all: *IF* any of your colleagues struggle into work whilst ill with flu to be self important martyrs, SHOOT THEM. Burn the bodies afterwards. It's completely legal according to the Health Protection Agency's Emergency Arrangements for pandemics.......

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It was my birthday

Oct. 25th, 2008 | 01:36 pm
mood: contentcontent

My birthday was brilliant. It was just ace.

It started off a little wobbly after the day trip to Wakefield the day before. However, certain staff issues got agreed which should make my life a little easier, so happy birthday to me. We then hit a rather large cable which went "pop". Then we hit another one. Go us.

Eventually Dave extracated the mobile phone from my earhole and whisked me off to dinner. Lisa very, very, very kindly did baby sitting for Evan while we went.

There were oysters. There was marinated squid. There was coffee creme brulee. There was wine with every course, including dessert wine. There was jewellry that matches the wedding rings we've commissioned. There was much hapy talking.

I think it was officially the best birthday I've had. Ever.

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Head Poo

Oct. 9th, 2008 | 03:27 pm

Does what it says on the tin.

Never thought I'd geuninely see poo on someones head.

Apparently, it's possible.

You live and learn I guess...........

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