plain speaking

There's a lot of things about getting older maturing that I don't really appreciate but I find I can live with.

Even the mentalpause has been bothering me less since I got back from India. Well either that or I just chilled out so much that my anger issues are being kept at bay.
In which case who knows what will happen when that particular bubble bursts.
But there are ways and means to avoid the other signs of my impending pensioner status. Grey hairs can be dyed ( or waxed - don't ask. You get them everywhere). Diet and exercise can keep aches and pains at bay (or so I'm told) and wrinkles can be filled with botox. Not that I have any. . . yet.
Wrinkles that is, not botox.

And I accept that there may be some things I will be stuck with.
But the one thing I fucking hate is the deterioration of my eyesight. I asked an optician (who was about 25, thin and beautiful - fucking bitch) about having laser treatment and was informed that there was no point since the problem is caused by age. If I had it done I would need glasses again in a couple of years as they will continue to get worse.

Just. Great. Make me feel good about myself why don't you.

I don't actually mind wearing glasses as such.
Men seem to find them sexy for some reason.
I've had sordid fuck fests romances with two men who liked me to keep them on ALL the time. One actually found them more of a turn on then any sleazy get up classy outfit I wore.
What really pisses me off about glasses is having to continually take them on and off. Since I am long sighted I only need them for reading and watching TV so when I'm out and about they are in my bag, and it's a fucking pain getting them out to get a bus ticket or look at prices in the shop, taking them off to walk to the till (if I don't everything looks wonky), then on again to use my card.
In a two hour shopping trip they are on and off more frequently then a strippers pants.

Sometimes I just can't be arsed to get them out of my bag.
Especially as my bag is more like a small suitcase that contains a black hole into which any item I want to retrieve from it will disappear.
Which is why yesterday after Son had text me saying we needed toilet roll I went to the shop and came home with these. . .

It's an easy mistake to make.
They do look similar, especially when you can't see properly.

And I am easily confused.
Sometimes I think the English language is very confusing, I've been helping my friends four year old with her reading and there are some things about it that you just can't explain. How do you make a child whose learning phonetically understand that 'the' is not pronounced te-he-eh ?
Especially when the child asks 'why' about everyfuckingthing.
And why does the announcement on the train as it approaches the stop always have to say "please mind the gap when ALIGHTING from the train".

What's wrong with saying leaving, getting off or even departing ?
I hear that announcement every day and I imagine this,

I'm worried that one day I will spontaneously combust when I step onto the platform.
I have enough trouble getting to work on time.

And here's another thing I don't really get, why do so many restaurants now advertise themselves as having a salad bar. What fucking twat thought up that expression.
There's two words that should not be said in the same sentence, ever. I hear the word bar and I expect to see alcohol not tomatoes, lettuce and cold pasta.

Unless of course they're serving cocktails with fruit in, then it makes sense.

A friend of mine, Tina, is always getting her words confused, but the things she says are hilarious. Her favourite film ever is Blade Runner and one day she was round mine and we saw an advertisment for the directors cut coming on the TV at the weekend. She was annoyed because she had to go out and was going to miss it as her recorder was broken, I told her to remind me and I would record it for her.
Saturday afternoon she rings me,
"please don't forget Road Runner is on tonight"
"meep meep"
"what ?"
"meep meep"

Ridley Scotts finest work.

Another time we were out in Tinas car and another friend of ours had moved house. This other friend now lived just up the road from the local police station and as we drove past it I pointed out her new house,
"I could never live there"
"Why not ? It's a gorgeous house"
"It's far too close to the playstation".

In Tina's case she's just funny, and she laughs at herself when you point out her mistakes.
Kids, on the other hand can be quite embarassing.

When Son was about ten I got myself a Slendertone.
One of those devices with pads that you put on your muscles, the idea being that you can tone yourself up without having to move off the sofa whilst eating chocolate and cake.
Or maybe that's just me. Either way it didn't work.

Son got it stuck in his head that it was called a vibrator. At ten I wasn't going to explain to him exactly why that mistake was funny, I think he had probably heard the word somewhere, and since the thing did sort of vibrate it made sense to him. He found it hilarious watching me twitch when I used it too.
And I probably didn't help, because even though I corrected him every time I was always laughing as I did so.
Fine, until you are on the bus and your child says,
"Are you going to use your vibrator when we get home".
Or you are talking to your older posher neighbour over the garden wall and he says,
"Have you used your vibrator today".
Or you hear him saying to his friend,
"You should see my Mum using her vibrator, she goes all twitchy".

Luckily I don't think that child ever went home and said anything to his parents. . .
"and he said I could watch his Mum use her vibrator too"
. . .  because I never got a visit from Child Services.

train face

I seem to have a habit of attracting weirdos and oddballs wherever I go.
If I wrote a post about my ex boyfriends that would be more then evident, but this is a blog about me not that bunch of psychos losers. I can be stood at a bus stop with ten normal people and one deranged idiot and I can guarantee the idiot will decide to start a conversation with me.

I think maybe they think I'm a kindred spirit.
Can't think why.

I need a train face. This is something that Son perfected years ago, a look you wear so that nobody sits next to you or tries to talk to you. The first time I saw it we were going to London for a days shopping in Camden and as we got closer to London the train started to fill up.
Son was sat opposite me wearing his train face.
By the time we got to Clapham there were people standing, but the seat next to him remained empty.

Tonight I get on the train home from work,  and as I sit down my phone rings. It's a mate and I know she probably wants a chat but I don't like talking where people can hear so I answer it and just say "I'm on the train but I'll be home in half an hour so I'll call you back".
As I said it between the seats in front I saw this. . .

The fella was quite young - he clearly hadn't combed his hair for a week, but I thought maybe he thought he recognised my voice and that was why he looked round.
He sat back round the right way and laughed. . . a bit too loud.
Then I saw this . . .

He kept pulling his hand back for a second then pointing again.
All the while laughing.

Then the guy sat in the seat in front of him started talking on the phone, obviously to his partner as he was saying how long he was going to be and calling the person he was chatting to darling. But idiot boy was joining in the conversation. I heard the guy on the phone say "shall we have a curry tonight", and idiot said "yes I want a chicken tikka massalla", he continued to mutter to himself for a bit even after the other fella had ended his call.

Then he looked like he was bending down to get something off the floor, but he didn't get up.
When I looked he had got under the seat in front of himself, and he was still there when I got off the train.

I'm only on the train for 15 - 20 minutes, but at least three times a week something happens that either irritates or amuses me. A while ago I had arranged to go to a friends for dinner after work and she was coming to meet me from the station, I called her while I was waiting for the train and told her what time I would be there.
When I sat down on the train there was a woman sat facing me and a younger guy came and sat next to me. Whilst it was en route the train stopped as there was a signal failure and the guard announced that there was going to be a 30 minute wait.

The woman opposite me rang someone and said she was going to be late, I got my phone out, went to call Alison and my battery died.
Fuck.
Didn't like the idea of Ali sat waiting for me with a one year old in her car, so I asked the woman if she would mind if I borrowed her phone to send a text message.

She looked at me like I'd asked to borrow her husband for the night, said "fucking cheek", got up and moved seats.
Fucking bitch.
Ok she didn't have to let me, but she could've just said no.
The fella sat next to me offered to let me use his, which I did, and we chatted until I got off the train. Nothing of any note, just moaning about the trains and the weather.
A couple of hours later I'm sat with Ali and her phone beeps for a text.

"Hi, was really nice talking to you on the train today, would you like to go for a drink".

He wasn't my type, but even if he had been I like a man with brains. Not someone who's not even clever enough to realise that I wouldn't of borrowed his phone to text my own . . . which he knew had a dead battery.
For all he knew I borrowed his phone to tell my 6ft cage fighter boyfriend I was going to be late.

I wish . . .

The other thing that really bothers me on trains is out of control screaming kids.
If you can't keep it under control don't take it on a fucking packed train and let it run up and down the aisles, apart from the nuisance to other passengers it's fucking dangerous.
You can't blame the kids, it's boring sitting on a train for any length of time, but at least take a comic or a couple of toys.

A couple of days ago there was a young girl with twin boys, about four or five, one was hitting the other who kept crying. All she was doing was shouting at them to stop . . . whilst playing with her mobile phone.
Fuck sake.

And then I heard her say their names. . .
Reggie and Ronnie.
I guess they were just living up to their namesakes.