Backstabbing & Endearing Curse Words

It’s terrible that this day in age it’s hard to find people that you can trust.  Working in an office environment you can see so easily how conversations turn into Chinese whispers and the backstabbing commences.  I never understood the whole backstabbing attraction; just have the balls to tell someone what you think instead of being a chicken shit and telling someone else about it.  I would rather someone be honest with me to my face and hurt my feelings rather than tell everyone else about it and me be none the wiser. 

 

I normally see this type of behaviour in girls and it forms ‘clicks’ which is pretty pathetic.  I’m sure backstabbing is going on behind my back and I really don’t care if it is or not, it doesn’t phase me in the slightest because if they are talking about me then they are leaving some other poor sap alone.  I try to stand up for people I see it happening to and if see someone trying to subtly pick on them and I see them struggling then I just stand up and say back off or stop them with a sarcastic remark.  More than likely I just tell them to shut the fuck up.

 

A friend sent me an image (below) last week that got me thinking about this and I think it’s true.

 

 

 

 

 

Now we don’t sit and curse all day but when we do we make it fun and come off with the most childish things to say to put the day in.  I do find that the more people curse within their conversations with me are the people I trust the most in my life.  My poor friends get some sarcastic abuse from me but it’s the way we are with each other.  I don’t know if it’s a Northern Irish thing or what it is.  Does everyone else do this?

Raising Your Husband

Before I kick off, which I will once I get carried away, I must emphasise that I am not a man hater.  I love men, I prefer their company, I’m very much a guy’s girl due to being raised a bit of a tom boy but..........living with one can be hardy friggin’ work!

 

For all of those women out there who have sons please pay special attention to this because for some of you the root of this problem lies with you.

 

I have been married just over a year but I have lived with my hubby for 6 years so I knew what I was getting into when I decided to commit to this relationship.  I might have had a few drinks in me and I was in Amsterdam (I will say no more) when I said yes to his proposal but I said yes all the same.  Don’t get me wrong I do love my husband but sometimes, just sometimes smothering him with a pillow for a little while would bring me great satisfaction.  I have no doubt in my mind he would love to do the same to me sometimes, that’s how marriage works!

 

From the times growing up and watching how life worked about the house many things have changed since then.  I was born in the early 80’s and grew up in the 90’s.  My dad went off to work every day and my mum stayed at home like the dutiful housewife but she was no soft touch with my dad, if he annoyed her or took advantage she let him have it.  My dad didn’t do much of the housework since he was working all day but he cooked at the weekends and he walked the dogs so that was fair enough.  My mum always brought me up to never be a maid for a man and to make sure all of the work in the house was divided.

 

Life in my home now is quite different.  We both work full time, the same hours I may add but for some reason men of my hubby’s age seem to think that life owes them something.  Even though I work the same hours he still thinks I should do all the cleaning, cooking, washing and look after our dog (we only had 1 at the time).  The day he said that was the biggest mistake of his life.

 

After some time I got him into the way of housework, I don’t expect cleaning to a show home standard or anything but I do like things to be more or less tidy but I can happily live with a little mess.  This actually lasted just over 2 years but then we bought a house together and the housework began to dwindle.  He gradually did less and less but as soon as I noticed that’s when I began to do less and less for him.  I let his side of the bedroom get messy, his washing piled up and there was never anything around the house that he wanted.  I went on strike for more than 3 years and he learned his lesson and began to tidy.  Yes 3 years is a long time but he’s an adult and should be doing it for himself anyway.  You’re wondering how I kept it up for 3 years, I’m very stubborn and if I want to get my own way then I can be very patient.

 

I told the ladies in work what I was doing and all I got was sympathy for him. 

“Awe the poor guy”

“You’re very hard on him”

“That’s awful; my hubby would never do any house work”

Etc etc

 

Am I the only one that sees something exceptionally wrong with this picture?  How about we turn the tables.  What does he do for me?  Does he do the DIY? No.  Does he cut the grass? Very seldom.  Does he cook? Rarely.  Does he wash my car? Maybe once a year even though he promised to do it every weekend.  Why should I even do a single thing for him if he’s not prepared to do anything for me?

 

Since when do we look after men like they are children?  Are they not adults? Are they not capable of looking after themselves?  Are they so needy and useless?  No, they are just lazy and if someone will do all your work for you then why bother? 

 

I completely blame his mum and she accepts the blame too.  She did everything for him growing up and when he wouldn’t do something for her she told him not to worry and she would do it.  He never lifted a finger around the house.  He pretty much got lifted and laid.  Now I have to live with a lazy git that thinks women should be doing it all for him.

 

I am no domestic goddess and the thought of housework or being a housewife would depress the life out of me.  I like having a career, I like being out and about but a lot of men don’t like women having independence.  I never understand the woman that live like this and are unhappy with it.  Some women love it and that’s the way they want their life to be and fair play to them but it’s not for me.

 

Boys should be educated early in life in how to pick up after themselves and how to help out round the house.  My hubby is almost 30 and still can’t wash a butter knife after he uses it; he leaves the buttery knife on the worktop with all the crumbs from the bread.  He even got his mum to buy him a dishwasher one Christmas because he doesn’t like to do dishes.  He leaves socks lying about the house, there is a trail of clothes upstairs when he’s going for a shower, he can’t put his clothes in the wash basket but he can get pretty close, but the one thing that drives me bonkers is that he is unable to change a loo roll!!

 

I could go on and on bringing up house bills, mortgages, personal appointments but the list would be endless.  Who needs kids when you have a husband to raise?  Men seem to be incapable of doing most things these days due to laziness and it’s quite sad to see. 

 

Didn’t they use to be the ‘superior’ sex???

 

The Commute

Like me I'm sure most people find the commute to work monotonous and boring.  I try to make my own amusement on the drive.  First thing in the morning I'm no use to anyone so to wake myself up on the drive to work I watch people in the cars that are driving towards me.  Some of the face people pull are just classic.

At that time of the morning the most popular face to be pulled is the 'fly catcher', the people like me that are still half asleep and yawn the whole way to work.  Another, which is the freakiest one of all, is the smiler.  These people freak the fuck out of me!! Who goes along just smiling to themselves?  Yes smiling is a natural daily thing but the drive with a big cheeser on your face is madness.  Then I think to myself if they do this on purpose to freak the likes of me out?


My favourite one is the one I do most mornings otherwise I would end up crashing.  I turn my music up!  I put on usually some rock style music or something up beat that I sing to and I bop away to myself.  On occasion I have been known to get a little carried away but I don't care, I sing and dance in my seat and it keeps me happy.

Now, this morning I was doing my usual routine with my music up and 'What's going on' by 4 Non Blonde's came on the radio.  I hadn't heard this song in ages so I was psyched that it was on and as normal I got a little carried away.  I was stopped at the lights unaware of anything going on around me due to my intense singing when I peered over at the car beside me.  The man was just watching me and by the look on his face he was watching me in disgust.  It actually looked like I had ruined his entire day. 

What did I do?  I kept looking at him while I sang and grooved left and right.  I had my sunglasses on due to a very rare bright day in Northern Ireland so I got to hide a little bit of the satisfied expression I was carrying.  He couldn't hold his gaze too long so he chickened out and looked straight on.  Next time I think I will make little signs for my car that say 'Nosey Bastard' on them so I can hold them up next time this happens.

Little amuses the innocent :)

Cancer is a MoFo

When I was growing up you rarely heard much about cancer, you only ever thought that old people died just because they were old.  As a child you were oblivious to these kinds of things.  I seen a lot of death as a child, I remember going to a lot of funerals of friends of my parents but I never really knew them.  I got used to the whole death concept at an early age and I grew I became closer to these family friends and it began to get more difficult. 

 

My first grandparent died before I was 2, which was my mum’s dad, I wish I had of known him.  My 2^nd granddad died when I was about 10, I didn’t know him much and he was an alcoholic.  My mum’s mum died when I was a teenager, I wasn’t close to her either and to be honest she wasn’t the nicest woman on the planet.

 

My dad’s mum, what a character, a favourite among the locals.  She was one of those people that actually brightened up a dull room, mostly with her colourful language.  She was the first big loss in my life.  I seen her almost every day of my life and the smell of smoke always reminds me of her (maybe not the nicest smell to bring back memories but it works).  She died of lung cancer, it dragged out a bit but at least she died at home among her family.  She smoked until the end to; there was no taking her pride and joy off her.

 

Next to go was her son, my dad’s baby brother.  This one was worse.  They lived in the same house and 5 years apart died from the same disease.  My uncle loved a drink but he was so much fun, he always knew the right thing to say and how to cheer you up.  We would have spent a lot of time with him; he was my friend and not just my uncle.  When he was in hospital he would get bored sitting about the place so he used to get me to sneak him out so he could go to the pub round the corner to watch the football and have a pint.  He lasted 2 months after his diagnosis of lung cancer, he had just turned 60.  He always said he didn’t want to rely on morphine; he passed away the day after he started.

 

Until the day he died it had never hit me that he wouldn’t be here, that he was just sick and he was young enough to beat it.  I was wrong.  Something died in me that day and I will never get it back.

 

Since then I have known 3 people under the age of 30 that cancer has taken away from my life but since the day my uncle left me I just feel numbness towards it. 

 

My mum has very recently been diagnosed with cancer and I haven’t even reacted to it.  I haven’t felt anything apart from worry for my mum and how she is dealing with it.  People keep asking how I am but it’s not me that’s sick.  I have seen people crumble when cancer enters their family but there is nothing you can do yourself except be there to support them and give them your time.  To be fair it’s a 50/50 chance of survival.  The people I thought would beat it never did so being positive or being negative doesn’t solve anything. 

 

I think my mum could beat it because she would be too damn stubborn for something like this to win; she likes the last word with everything. 

Mesed Up Shark Dreams

When I was younger I used to have this reoccurring dream, I still have it from time to time as an adult too.  I come from a coastal town and I naturally as a child I used to swim at the beach despite how freezing our waters are.  I wasn’t the strongest of swimmers. Scratch that, I couldn’t swim until the age of 9 and I was taught how to by my big sister who threw me into the deep end of the pool when we were on holiday.

 

Before I was 9 we used to swim at the beach, there was a slip way which we used to jump off; this is where I almost drown.  The feeling of drowning is a terrible experience, it’s something you never forget, the feeling of the water shooting up your nose and the panic in your heart when you realise you’re not able to get to the surface to take a breath. 

 

I’ve never liked the water, not for the fact that it almost consumed me but for the sheer reason that I don’t know whets down there.......or I do know whets down there more to the point.  With changing climates and animals being able to adapt to their surroundings more and more ‘dangerous’ aquatic wildlife make their way to our shores.

 

Anyway, not many of them appeared here in the 90’s which made my dream completely impossible.  The dream began like a normal summer’s day heading down to the slipway to go for a swim or in my case a ‘fake’ swim.  It all of a sudden got darker and when I looked down towards the slip there was a very evil looking hybrid killer whale / shark creature in the shallow water looking up at me with its beady eyes and had its mouth open as if it was grinning at me. The look on its face was so disturbing that I still remember every detail of it.

 

The dream was relatively short; I never went down to the water to approach it because even in my dreams I’m not that stupid.  I do believe this dream led to my fear of shards 11+ years later (I take my time with these things).  I used to love Jaws as a kid and Deep Blue Sea but when I hit about 20 or so I started to develop a fear of them.  I had this dream all through my teen years, what it means I don’t know. 

 

One day I was watching a documentary about sharks with my dad and all of a sudden I felt my heart go when I seen one come up on the screen.  I think it was the first time I had ever looked into their eyes and remembered my dream.  An odd one.

If I Knew Then What I Know Now........

Do you ever wonder to yourself that if you were still a teenager and you knew what you know now would you go back and do it all again? 

 

There has been many a night where I have pondered over this and thought of all the decisions I made that I could change.  All of those mistakes I made, all of the reckless things I did and all of the wrong people I trusted.  Then I think about school and how well I would have done if I knew everything I know now.  In fact I probably knew more academic information in school that I know now anyway, once you get out of the way of thinking about algebra and punctuation you can’t remember half of it anyway. 

 

So, would I go back and change it all?

 

Would you?

 

All the tough times I had, the good and bad friends, the life lessons, the loss of family and friends, the ups and downs, I don’t think I would trade it in.  All of these events led me to be the person I am today and I’m very comfortable being me.  I was lucky enough as a child not to get bullied because I could stand up for myself so no one bothered me; I’ve been pretty independent from a young age.  I learned early how to deal with loss and that you have to live life to the fullest. 

 

Don’t let anyone drag you down because it’s more than likely they are just jealous of your life. 

 

Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t do something; if you want to do it then do it. 

 

Don’t follow the crowd, do what you want to do and be who you want to be no matter what anyone else thinks, everyone is different. 

 

Express your weirdness because it always entertains someone and it lets you explore your creative side. 

 

Don’t be afraid to voice your opinion, you never know how important it might end up being. 

 

Don’t get married and settle down too young, its more than likely that your wants and needs will change as you get older so be wary of that!

 

Don’t take life too seriously and let all the big things worry you, take it step by step and day by day.  As you get older the big worries become little ones and you’ll wonder why you wasted so much effort being worried in the first place.

 

Don’t get intimidated of people in high places, we all came into this world the same way and no one person is better than another.  Treat everyone as your equal and they will treat you the same.

 

Laugh!  Laugh as much as you can at life because if you don’t you will cry!

 

Most importantly, don’t just do these things because I’m telling you to either!!!

 

Let yourself go through the motions of life but don’t let that be all there is.  If someone had of told me all of this when I was young I might have turned out a little different, who knows?  One thing my parents always told me when I went to do anything in life was ‘Just do your best, that’s all you can do’.  That’s words of wisdom from the two biggest weirdo’s’ I know, but they are the best.

Tom Hardy the LEGEND at Karaoke!!

So last night I went to see Legend in the cinema.  Absolutely cracking I have to say.  Tom Hardy as per usual delivered an absolutely blinding performance as the Kray twins and I have to say that his portrayal of Ronnie was fantastic.  His take on Ronnie has us laughing most of the way through the movie.  Brilliant performances all round from the entire cast. 

Which leads me to my next story.  If you have read this blog before you will remember about my strange dreams, especially those that consist of Tom Hardy and his karaoke abilities.  Another karaoke dream plagued my night when he took to the stage, this time I think we were on some awards stage, and we belted out 'Don't Stop Believing' by Journey.  Why I keep having these odd dreams about the two of us doing karaoke is beyond me as I still cant and never will be able to sing a note that is recognisable!

Kids of Today ........SLAP!!!

My childhood was spent growing up in the 90’s.   It wasn’t a bad time to be growing up, things were still kind of simple and technology hadn’t taken over the world yet.  Once breakfast was over we were sent outside to play and told not to come back until lunch time.  We would go out and find our friends, wherever they may have been and we would talk, run, play and get up to mischief.  Our play time was our exercise. 

 

What worries me about kids today is they rarely go outside; they are too busy wrapped up in their own technical bubble.  It’s a rare occasion where I will pass a group of kids on the street anymore and the ones I see in shops don’t communicate with their voice because they all have their faces buried in their phones.

 

These kids are being brought up by my generation and it’s terrifying.  I know we all have to roll with the times but these kids are going to grow up to be thick as shit.  With all this ‘text speak’ that won’t know how to spell and most of them can’t communicate with each other.  Cyber bullying is another thing; at least in my day the bully had the balls to do it to your face in public.  Cyber bullies are the biggest cowards out there and I wouldn’t mind whooping their ass for being spineless little bitches. 

 

Anyway, all this lack of exercise the kids are getting is leading to childhood obesity.  Not to mention how spoiled kids are these day, I know everyone wants to give their kids what they didn’t have and all that but some people are ridiculous.  Society has gone mad with the pressure other kids put on each other to have designer clothes and the best toys.  There was a little bit of that back in my day but not to this extent.

 

Parents have become too soft on kids, I was brought up to have manners and do whatever my parents told me and of course I rebelled a little but I knew when they meant business.  This whole law of your not allowed to hit your kids is ridiculous.  Obviously you should never be allowed to beat the shit out of a kid but a good boot up the backside never hurt anyone.  Kids are vastly becoming the dominant figure in the household as I’ve been told by people around me that their kids hit them! What the actual fuck?? These are small kids too that when they don’t get what they want they punch their mum.  I’m sorry but if I had of done that to my parents I would have go my ass handed to me!

 

Schools have gone completely mad too.  I hear in a lot of schools that in sports day and other activities like it that there aren’t medals for 1^st to 3^rd place anymore and that everyone gets a medal for just taking part.  What a load of balls!  Competition is what drives us to be better and we need it in our lives, not the crazy competitiveness but a little.  How can kids try to better themselves if they have nothing to compete with? I know this rule is so they kids who aren’t good at sports don’t feel bad about themselves but maybe if they are no good at it then they shouldn’t be doing it! 

 

We are all good at different things in our lives and if you good at sport then just don’t compete.  Clearly its just not meant for you.  There is a lot of things I love to do but I’m completely shit at it but I wouldn’t want a medal for it when I know I’m so shit!  Since these kids will have no competitive drive how will they survive in the real world when they leave school?  When these kids are going for jobs will they decide not to compete with the other candidates?  It’s going to be quite a scary place when this happens?  Will there be any bosses?  How could there be when the kids are being taught that everyone is on the same level regardless of their skills or talent? 

 

 

Lies Your Parents Told You

Growing up I was always encouraged by my parent not to lie.  All kids’ lie a little bit or exaggerates the truth with their imaginations (kind of like what men still do today).  The one thing a kid never expects is for their parents to lie to them.  The lies my parents told me were far worse than any lie I ever told them.  For example, my lies where more disguisers of the truth, me not telling them I was out on the street at 13 years old pissed off my face was not knowledge that they needed to know.  Their lies on the other hand pretty much scarred me for life.

 

The biggest and most treacherous of lies was the myth of Santa Clause.  To this day I have never forgiven them for this one.  This lie presented me with three different feelings;

Happiness – there was a jolly man who came to visit the house once a year and dished out free toys to all of the good kids.

1. 

Fear – there was a big fat man who broke into my house every year and ate all of my cookies and drunk all of my milk.

Having a conscience about things I did – I was always told that only well behave kids got toys and all of the bad ones on the ‘naughty list’ were given a lump of coal.  I seemed to be on the naught list a lot during the year because I was a very stubborn kid and always loved an argument.  Mum and dad obviously saw that presenting me with a lump of coal for Christmas might not startle me too much so they went in with the big guns for their next threat.  All bad children will have to go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve....they got me, they got me good!

 

There was nothing I hated more in my life than going to church, never mind having to go so late at night at the age I was.  I fell asleep all of the time and mum had to keep waking me, surely this was as much of a punishment for her as it was for me? 

 

The year I found out that there was no Santa I was about 8 and we were playing hide and go seek.  I went to hide in my parent’s wardrobe and there were all my presents. 

 

The next lie was the monsters in the closet.  Most kids are scared of monsters in their closets but it was never really something we were scared of as kids, my sister and I shared a room so we always had each other.  As we shared a room we were always up and about and one way dad would get us back into bed was by telling us there was a monster in the closet that would come for us if we weren’t sleeping.  Needless to say we pretty much shit out pants with the thought of that, our dad was warning his precious daughters of this awful monster and how to avoid it. 

 

Around this age my dad let us watch a lot of horror movies.  I remember we were very young when we watched A Nightmare on Elm Street; we rented the VHS from the movie shop.  When we needed a bathroom break during the film dad would pause it and my sister and I would run up the stairs to the loo.  Dad being dad he would shout up after us ‘Watch out Freddy doesn’t get you’.  Naturally we then would call mum up to the top of the stairs so that she could watch out for Freddy in case he did come for us.

 

When I realised there were no real monsters a while later I used this to my advantage.  One night dad let us watch Poltergeist (I really have to question his parenting skills) and my sister was terrified of the clown so I used this on her one night.  We went to bed and she was most likely bulling me so I told her I seen the clown under her bed.  Scared as anything she jumped into her bed and hid under the covers but she is older and should know better so I take no responsibility for this.  For a long time after telling her this she would always take a run and jump into bed in case the clown got her.  I also told her that Jaws lived under her bed and she believed that too (she won’t admit that now).