Just a flying visit... although hopefully the 'puter is back tonight so normal service can resume!
The lovely Gem has asked me to reveal seven secrets; however I'm a bit of an open book as I tend to out all my skeletons as soon as I think of them so I'm cheating a bit and using seven things from an outrageously old post... hope that's OK?
7 Things You Didn't Know About Me (when I originally wrote this stuff down)
1. I have the sort of laugh that Esther Rantzen used to feature on 'That's Life', slotted in between the funny shaped veg and the jolly postman from Hampshire.
It starts out with a series of loud barks, incorporates a snort and a gurgling, gulping noise and finishes off with a Sid James dirty chuckle. I am incredibly envious of those tinkling bells, girlish, giggly types, however I lament that it may be too late to change now. On a positive note if you lose me in a shopping mall, just ring my mobile, tell me a joke and then watch for the spot where the crowd clears and there are calls for a doctor.
2. I've been on T.V.
Back in the day, Slap was a bit of a muso and in my role as number one groupie I saw an awful lot of bands. At a live screening of 'The Word' on channel 4, I was filmed moshing to 'The Manic Street Preachers'. This in itself is no mean feat, however at the time of said mosh I had only just given birth to Lil, in fact
(look away now if you are of a sensitive disposition)
I still had the stitches in...yeuckkk!
Until three days ago, this fact ( T.V. not stitches) was just the stuff of urban myth, but extraordinarily, I now have proof of my 15 seconds. If you type into a youtube search, manic street preachers the word, and then click on the live performance 1991, you'll notice a very curly haired, large nosed woman laughing maniacally and 'having it large' before she is unceremoniously face planted onto the stage.....Good Times!
3. Which in a winding sort of meander brings me to unknown fact number three. I've had a nose job.
Not much to say here except it was big and bent, now it's medium sized and bent. I'll never win a beautiful nose award but at least people no longer pretend to have been poked in the eye if I turn around quickly!
4. When my cell phone rings it plays 'Smells like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana.
Not only is this my own personal homage to the rock god Kurt Cobain, but it's also in recognition of the fact that 90% of all calls made to my phone are from smelly teenagers.
This is no longer true, now it just beeps at me. Orthodox but effective!
5. My sister and law and I could have been separated at birth.
Although she has been my in law for at least 15 years now, due to a series of unfortunate events we only met a year ago and I'm so glad we did! We look alike, aspire to the same things, think alike, are obsessive op shoppers, make each other laugh heaps (although she is a girlish giggler) and have incredibly similar tastes. Strangest of all though is a shared admiration for odd men. I adore a skinny man with a speech impediment and K lusts after baldies with scars. Even stranger, neither of these images bears any similarity to the men we married...go figure?
Still like weird men, but due to further events we don't see each other that much anymore, shame really...
6. I'm coeliac, which sucks!
I was diagnosed about 12 years ago and now forgo all things gluten, which sucks! Although there are now far more doughy treats available for the allergic amongst us, they are, inevitably, horribly expensive and I've yet to bake a gluten free cake that tastes as good as it's wheaty counterpart, which sucks! From time to time I throw caution to the winds and binge on bakery goods, however this always leaves me feeling rather poorly and sorry for myself, which sucks like a hoover!
7. I am prone to horribly embarrassing incidents.
I'm not sure why, but they just keep on happening. Around the dinner table the kids love to recount the hideously embarrassing things I've done or said over the years, but I'm about to divulge a cringing secret that still has the power to make me squirm in my seat.
When I was pregnant with Alf (third child), my regular check up with the doctor required a breast check. No problem there except that it was a very cold day and so the subsequent removal of at least 5 layers of wool, a pair of dungarees and a bra that had suddenly acquired a padlock and key left me rather red faced and huffing. Add to this the rather odd technique employed by the doctor of checking my breasts whilst I was sitting on the bed rather than lying on it. Now, I'm no prude but I found the entire experience rather unnerving and by the time he'd finished I was beetroot in colour, sweating precociously and could barely look him in the eye!
Fast forward 3 months...by this time I was huge, just about ready to pop in fact. As an advocate of drug free/home birthing I was a little concerned at a sudden stiffness in my neck and shoulders and worried that it may lead to difficulties during labour, off to the doctor I waddled. I explained my predicament, the doctor looked me in the eye and said the two words I'd hoped never to hear again....'BREAST CHECK'
This time however, I was ready ...determined to be that confident, empowered earth mother I whipped up my T shirt, thrust up my bra and glared at him.
"What on earth are you doing"
"You said breast check"
"No madam, I said best check"
Oh Lord, the shame....I'm squirming!!!