Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!!

Hello, it's only me!!

Yes, I know it's been a while, but I'm still around. Never has there been a more apt blog title than 'Princess of Procrastination'...(and that's a major understatement).

People who know me know just how notoriously BAD I am at keeping up with stuff. I'm pretty sure I have a defective gene when it comes to keeping to a schedule. There are lots of genuine reasons for the lack of blog posts (my full time job, health stuff, lack of inspiration etc), but mostly it's just a case of good old (or bad old) procrastination. I've taken some steps to try and help with this, though.

Book One of The Furry Tale Chronicles

The biggest step was deciding to lay to rest my other blog. I had the best of intentions when I created my Furry Tales Chronicles blog. I wanted to keep my book stuff separate, and continue with the sillies on THIS blog. Trouble is, I can't keep up with one blog, never mind two, and knowing I was neglecting two blogs just made me feel a bit overwhelmed. I'll be posting a short note over there to redirect anyone who stumbles across it over here. I had deleted it initially, but then I realised that the web address is advertised on my publisher's website AND in my 'about the author' notes in my Crimson book. (Duh). But after my little note, there won't be anything new posted over there.

You'll notice that I've added some page tabs at the top of the page. These are just to include the information that was listed on my other blog (see, I did the job properly!). I'm going to do my very best to blog every Monday or Tuesday over here. My usual silliness, most likely (of course!), peppered with personal stuff, and book related stuff as and when there is anything interesting to tell.

Of course, it is January, the month where most people decide to give themselves a kick up the butt, so it's probably no surprise that I decided NOW to be a bit more proactive in my fight against procrastination. But despite 2013 being a GREAT year for me (two books released - yay!), it was also a bit of a sucky year as well. My health hasn't been great, my writing projects received little to no attention, my finances have been skewered, and I've struggled to keep my episodic depression at bay.

I'm determined to do better this year. I want at least one more book under my belt by the end of 2014, and hopefully I can get another novella released, too. I've already been working on SOUL IDENTITY (my epic fantasy), which I plan to publish under my real name when it's eventually finished (most of you know that I publish under a pen name for my romances). And the second of my Furry Tale Chronicles book is well under way. Looking good, so far!

Wedding Wake up call: My son, my daughter, me, & my step-daughter.

My last bit of personal stuff for today is a public declaration of my intention to lose weight this year. You may remember that I lost a whopping 42lbs a few years ago. Unfortunately (as so often happens with us chronic dieters), I put every last pound back on again. *sighs* I did make an effort last year and managed to lose (and keep off) 14lbs, but I gave up far too quickly. Today is the day that I start my new plan. Doctors would tell me that I need to lose 45-50lbs to fall in the 'healthy range', but I'm hoping for a more realistic loss of 30lbs for the time being. That would be put me at around the same weight that I was three years ago, and you know, it felt... nice... not too thin, but definitely not fat. I was recently a bridesmaid for my sister in law, and it was looking at the pictures that gave me the kick up the butt that I needed. Of course, I knew I'd put on weight, but there is nothing like seeing a picture of yourself where you think you look OK, and seeing just how big you've become, to shock you into action. Oh, I know I'm not monstrously huge, but if I'm cringing at the picture, then it's a sure sign that it's time to do something.

I'm not brave enough to publicly announce my actual weight, but I will be giving a weekly update on pounds lost (and not gained, hopefully) over the next few months. Accountability helps.

My Christmas novella, released in December

My last bit of news today (sorry for the extremely long post, but you know, it has been a while *snort*), is that IF THE SHOE FITS is now available in paperback! Yay! I'll get to hold my first book baby in my hands! So far it's only popping up in the US (I've seen it both at Barnes & Noble and Amazon), but it should be showing up in the UK (and other countries, via Amazon) over the next few weeks. I'm tentatively thinking about putting my self-pubbed Christmas novella, MEET ME HALFWAY, out in paperback, too, but at the moment that one is still only available through Amazon's Kindle. I'll let you know if and when that changes!

That's it for now! I'll see you next week, when I'll have some news about promotional stuff for IF THE SHOE FITS. *grins*

Timeslip

Why is it that the older you get, the faster time seems to pass? This is a puzzle that has made me think a lot over the last few years, with each year passing making me puzzle over it more. As a child, the time between birthdays and Christmas etc seemed eternal, whereas even though we are now only midway through July, already I am panicking about Christmas 2010. I know, it's five months away for crying out loud, but from experience I know that those five months will soon be behind me and the joy (stress) of the festive season will be upon me. Its nuts! I have a birthday coming up (unfortunately), and it honestly doesn't seem like it has been a year since my last one. Looking back on it is like looking back at a day from a couple of weeks ago. What's up with that?

I noticed that time seemed to speed up when I hit thirty.  I mean, sure, the years went a little more swiftly in my twenties when compared to my childhood, but a year still felt like a relatively long time. But when I reached thirty, suddenly a year felt about half as long as it should be. And it also seems that time appears to go faster when you have things to do. Back in February (I think it was February anyway, it may have been last week for all I know), I made a five month plan with regards to my NaNo novel. I fully intended to edit  the messy bits and add another ten thousand words so that by the end of this month I would be ready to start trying to sell it.

Now, I have made decent progress on it considering how much of a procrastinator I am, but it is far from done. Of course, I can take off a couple of months because I was back on forth on different meds for my depression, and most days I didn't know whether I was coming or going. Definitely not the right frame of mind to be in when you want to edit a novel. But I was finally given meds that worked, and over the last three months I have gradually got better, and although I know I am not completely back to normal, I am not nearly as bad as I was.  So allowing for adjustments due to the meds thing, I guess I could say that the last ten weeks or so should have seen a lot of work done on my novel.

Well, I have worked on it, but not nearly as much as I should have. I keep thinking to myself that it is only March or April, and then stop short when I realise that we are now in July. Logically I know it is July, but it just doesn't feel like it is. The time going faster as we get older thing is definitely part of that, but the whole Being Out Of My Tree for the first third of this year has also added to the problem.

I'm still determined to get Cardiffella edited and ready for submission by September though. I have this funny feeling that September should be a good month to do it, and being a bit of a stickler for 'funny feelings', I want to go with my instinct.  I just hope that September doesn't arrive before next week or something, because at the rate time is slipping by me this year, it really wouldn't surprise me....

I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus

Excuse me? Is that right? I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus? What's up with that?  It's a song title (or maybe a book title, or possibly a movie title, but definitely a title of something), and as titles go, it's a little unnerving. I mean, if I picked it apart, it's actually downright disturbing.

For a start, this is obviously a title from a child's perspective, and a young child at that. Why? Well, once a child reaches nine or ten, Santa Claus is a nonentity. Santa becomes one of those mythical people that the adults in your life hold up as an example in order to induce good behaviour. By the time you are ten, Santa has joined the Easter Bunny, The Bogey Man, and the Tooth Fairy in the world of We Only Exist To Bribe Young Children Into Being Good And Going To Sleep At A Reasonable Hour.

Not only that, but unless you have a double-barrelled name, a horsy profile and a plummy voice, 'mommy' (or the more commonly used 'mummy') is never uttered past the age of ten. At age ten, most mothers are reduced to being called 'mum', 'mom', or even nothing at all, just a slovenly grunt.

So yes, this was a young child's perspective.  Now, to have a child under the age of ten, a mother who is under the age of forty is usually a given. There are exceptions to this rule, but more often than not we are looking at a parent who is between the ages of 25 and 35.

Santa (even though he's obviously not real) is around eighty, right? At least. I mean, okay, we don't actually know his real age, but given that he has a snowy white beard, rosy cheeks (too much mulled wine perhaps?) and more than his fair share of middle-aged spread, I think it's safe to assume that eighty is a reasonable guess on his age. (If we were to judge his age by the amount of years he has been spreading Christmas cheer, then I'm pretty sure he would be a couple of centuries old, but for the sake of trying to be a little bit sensible, I will stick with eighty, not least because a double-centenary aged feller getting it on with a 35 year old is more than a little icky).

My point is (yes! I DO have a point!), what the hell was an octogenarian doing kissing the mother of some poor innocent child? And why the hell was this child  happy enough to write a song/produce a movie/write a book about it? I mean, I know May and December romances can be sweet and everything, and I'm all for everyone having the freedom of choice, but Santa? Santa?

What about Mrs Claus? Round, jolly, Mrs Claus who looks after the elves, feeds the reindeer, and bakes endless mince pies (Santa's belly has to be filled with something)? Santa should totally be ashamed of himself! What on earth would happen if Mrs Claus found out, that's what I'd like to know. She's obviously a sensible sort, she has to be, doesn't she? Santa is obviously far too busy eating those pies and drinking buckets of mulled wine to be able to watch over the millions of children all over the world. And as for the actual presents, well.... show me a man who can wrap presents, and I'll show you the woman who really does it. I'm positive than men are equally up to the task of cutting paper, rolling it around a present, and sticking some sellotape on it. I'm not saying that they are inept at it at all. They just don't like it.  They will inevitably ask their wife/mother/sister/girlfriend/daughter to take over the wrapping duties nine times out of ten. Santa will be no different. *nods wisely*

So, being the sensible sort of woman that she is, Mrs Claus, when finding out about her husband's infidelity, will, and quite rightly I might add, divorce Santa faster than you can say Jingle Bells. It's a foregone conclusion, obviously.

That will never do!

So listen up Kid With The Mother Who Brazenly Snogs Santa - don't sing about it! Or write a book about it! Or make a movie about it! Leave well alone! Think of poor Mrs Claus, she doesn't deserve this! And your 'mommy' could certainly do better than an old lecher who eats all of the pies! Got it? Got it? Next time you see mommy smooching with an old man with a white beard**, pull them apart, damn it! Avoid a catastrophe! Save Christmas!!

** a) If white-bearded old man is Gandalf of Middle Earth, turn a blind eye. The poor man hasn't seen any action in centuries, and isn't married either. Give the poor man a break.

     b) If white-bearded man is Albus Dumbledore of Potterverse, then I wouldn't worry at all. He's definitely not married, plus I have it on good authority that he usually only kisses men with the initials G.G. If he's kissing your mom/mum, it's obviously a dare of some kind (unless her name is Georgie Glewbadoo, is your adoptive mother, and used to be a man, in which case your problems are only just beginning, and would actually be quite a good basis for a song/book/movie title now that I think about it).

And that's my advice this Christmas Eve. I'm going now. And don't forget, no kissing the old man in the red suit!!

I was only going to....

I think - and as I type this I am mentally crossing my fingers - I might actually be able to sit down long enough to type something. This is the fourth time today that I have attempted to update my blog. *rolls eyes* I've managed to get online a few times today, but each time was for about five minutes and I could do little more that 'like' a couple of friends' Facebook status messages. Okay, so I had a couple of games of Bejeweled too, but that was simply because there is a way to, ehm, tweak *coughs* the scores and I thought it might be funny to have a huge score, plus it only takes a couple of minutes. Anywho....

We have been snowed in here in the Kair of Diff. Well, mostly iced in if I am being truthful, but you know what I mean. Everyone has been panic buying milk, bread and vegetables, and there have been more than the usual amount of sirens blaring in the last couple of days owing to people slipping and sliding all over the place. Not good. Thankfully there hasn't been any major traffic accidents as far as I am aware, and I hope it stays that way.

Back to what I was saying before, this is the fourth time today that I have tried to blog. I had a 'spare' half an hour earlier (well, not exactly spare, but it was when hubby had popped out so it was a rare opportunity to nab the PC). Anywho, I thought I would blog, but I wanted to quickly check my emails and Facebook page in case anyone had left me a message (as you do). My step-daughter was online and I quickly grabbed the chance to ask her when she was calling for her Christmas presents. She has a phone, but I didn't have her new number (she changes her mobile about as often as I play Bejeweled. In other words, frequently).

Anyway (Lordy, I'm digressing today), I ended up chatting to her for a while (as you do) and we arranged for her to visit today. By the time we'd finished fixing times and lifts here and back home, hubby was home, so no blogging for me.

When she arrived she decided to pop down her nan's house as well as her bampy's house, so I thought - right! Time to blog! I decided to make a nice cup of tea to warm me up, and while I waited for the kettle to boil I started clearing up from the huge cooked breakfast that I had made earlier. I was only going to rinse the plates and stack them ready for washing up later on in the day, but once I started, I ended up cleaning the whole kitchen. By the time I poured my tea, hubby and step-daughter were back. Strike two.

I popped to the library to stock up on more books (these internet-free evenings are KILLING me), and grabbed the last quart of milk and two loaves of bread from the corner shop. Yay! I thought, no need to go out tomorrow! Of course, I almost broke my neck about five times walking up the hill back to my house (one step forward, three slips back), but I made it home safely, thank goodness. I made a well-earned cup of tea and grabbed a book to leaf through while the hubby played poker on Facebook.

Then hubby decided to go out, and I thought yes! This time I can DEFINITELY blog! Wahoo!!

*shifty*

I dutifully made the kids their tea at 5.45pm, only if you look at the time on this post (if you are in Britain, that is) you will notice that 5.45pm was well over two hours ago. I only went out the kitchen to prepare tea, but seeing as I had already cooked stuff earlier on, it was only a question of re-heating it and serving it up. I ended up changing bedding and putting the nth load of washing on, changing the chip pan oil (and all the cleaning that this job entails), bringing the hoard of Christmas goodies from my bedroom and finding homes for them in my already well-stocked kitchen cupboards, and just generally sorting things out.  I only went to get the kids their tea for crying out loud!! It wasn't as if I WANTED to do these things, I just became this robot that kept finding things to do. *scratches head in robot fashion*

Anywho, these are the perils of a procrastinator. Every day I have a 'I was only going to...' moment, and I swear they are never intentional, they just happen. What's makes it odd is that these moments are often linked to jobs that I absolutely HATE doing (*glares at chip pan*).

So that was my day, and I bet tomorrow will be just the same. I'm hoping to get online tomorrow evening, but if I don't, I'd like to wish everyone a fantastic Christmas, and I'd also like to say a great big THANK YOU to those of you have visited my crazy blog and been kind enough to read and comment on it.

*shudders*

I've recently hit the point where I am constantly muttering under my breath at the tragedy that is being laptopless. It's awful, it really is. I have a ton of stuff I could (and should) be doing, but I can't attempt even a tenth of it because I am laptopless. Sure, there are two working PCs in the house, but I can't get to them most of the time. My son's is available during school hours, but I am not. The other PC is largely unavailable at all hours because not only does it belong to the hubby, but it is also the main TV. Bugger bugger bugger.


My dream of blogging every single day is currently on pause, not to be resumed until at least January (or, even worse, February *dies*). But! I will endeavor to get on as much as I can. In the meantime, I can at least blog about what I was going to blog about yesterday and the day before. A recap, as it were.


Thursday's blog was going to be all about Wednesday evening's trip to my son's school. I had all sorts of things to say, mainly about the drama teacher who in fact was MY drama teacher all those years ago. It was incredibly strange coming face to face with the person who, as horrible teenagers, me and my friends used to take the mick out of on a daily basis. Poor guy. And then there was the collective (and very juvenile) snort that passed through the crowd of parents when the presentation screen told us to visit Mr. Cockfield for further details on....hmm, I can't remember the actual subject. It should say something about the parents as a whole that THEY laughed at the name while their children didn't even bat an eyelid. *shifty*


If I had blogged yesterday, it would no doubt have been about my horrible day of spending far too much money on presents for people who probably won't even like them. I'm Scrooge's long-lost daughter, or at least a prodigal niece or something. While I love giving presents, and love seeing people's faces light up when they (hopefully) get what they've always wanted, I can't get past the slight (okay, more than slight) horror that seeps in whenever I hand over another crisp twenty pound note. Honestly, it's like that scene from 'Ghost' when Whoopi Goldberg (whom I've always secretly wished would marry Peter Cushion, just for snorts) is gritting her teeth as she hands over that check to the collecting nuns. Not only that, but I always get home and discover that I have bought a few things that I have no idea what to do with. *scratches head* I think the Scrooge-y stress makes me temporarily forgetful, and I end up having gifts which technically weren't bought with anyone in mind at all.


Today's blog? Well, seeing as it is still, in fact, today, technically I shouldn't have to recap. I should write a full and detailed blog. But I can't. And do you know why? Because the subject that I'm blogging about is seriously not worth more than one paragraph.


Yup, I took the kids to see the new Twilight movie today. *is still shuddering* Lordy. To be fair, it was better than the first effort, but that's the only nice thing I can say about it. Bella Swann has to be the most boring, whiny,middle-of-the-road, selfish and BORING (it needed saying twice) female heroine in the history of female heroines. Just what the hell do the (allegedly) 'gorgeous' Edward Cullen and Jacob (didn't care enough to listen for his surname) see in such a pale and pathetic character?  The whole thing made me want to vomit. Yeuch. Even worse, I actually paid £35 altogether for the 'privilege' to watch it on the big screen. It's enough to make anyone sick. *shudders some more* Team Edward or Team Jacob? Team I Couldn't Give  A Flying Duck. *nods firmly*


Thankfully, I have an evening of vodka lined up, and I am planning to drown my sorrows. Honestly, being laptopless AND having to watch utter tripe and PAY for it calls for at least a full bottle of vodka as far as I am concerned.


Oh, and there's no pictures today because apparently downloading pictures may (or may not, we don't know) have caused a very annoying batch of Trojan viruses to attack our PC on Thursday. Better safe than sorry, especially as I'm not entirely sure if the hubby has put the safety stuff back on again. On the plus side, I don't have to upload a picture from 'Twilight', which isn't a bad thing at all.

Arrrggghhh!!! #2

I think I may have used 'arrrggghhh' as a title before, so to be on the safe side I have added a '#2' on the end, and made the 'argh' extra long. Not that you needed to know that, but there we are.

Anyway, am currently arrrggghhhing fairly frequently. Am still bloody waiting for the cash machine people to give me back the £200 that they stole from me last week (okay, so they didn't steal it technically, but that's how it felt). Am also trying to juggle my cash so that I have enough to buy remaining presents by the end of this week. I really, really want to have every-one's gifts out of the way by Friday because I am going to be rushing around like an idiot as from next week, so I don't need the hassle of gift-stress.

Of course, none of you are remotely interested in any of this.

Anywho, have just finished writing 50 plus cards out this morning, and have posted almost all of the overseas ones. Of course, I highly doubt that everyone will get them in time, because of crappy Royal Mail. I should have sent them at least two weeks ago, but NaNo made me forget all sorts of things like that.

And the other day I spent hours wrapping presents up while the kids were at school (38 presents to be exact, and only about five were normal-shaped and easy to do, while the others came in shapes that I don't think are normally in existence at any other time of year).  Also, my cat was apparently under the impression that the sellotape was a football, and that the wrapping paper's sole purpose in life was in fact not to wrap, but to provide hours of slippery slidey fun for domesticated pussies.

And I know you didn't want to know any of that either.

Am also arrrggghhhing because I still don't have any regular computer access. Both of my deceased laptops will no doubt never be resurrected, and so I am hoping that I will be able to scrape enough cash together to buy a shiny new laptop in the January sales. Have dutifully requested cash instead of gifts from close family members and hubby, and will have to find the remaining needed myself (possibly I may not feed my kids for one week, but I'm sure they won't mind, after all they can surely survive on Cadbury's selection boxes and bags of Haribo for a while, yes?)

On another note, I am not arrrggghhhing over the fact that I won't have to take kiddie-winkles to the cinema tonight. The son's school requires my presence for 'Options Evening', where we can discuss which subjects my son would like to take for his GCSEs next year. I can now happily put off the nightmare that is watching Twilight: New Moon until Saturday, with the added bonus that I have arranged a girly evening that very same day, thus I will be able to drown the inevitable Twilight gloominess in a bottle of vodka or two. On the downside, am slightly traumatized by the fact that my ickle first-born is soon to be sitting GCSE's. Where the heck did the last thirteen years go? *cries*

Lastly I am arrrggghhhing about the fact that I am now being Ellied almost every second of every day. Daughter is most excited at approaching birthday (21st December) and is not letting me forget it.

"Twelve sleeps to my birthday!"

"Don't forget, mum, I'll need a chocolate birthday cake for school AND a lovely princessy-pink one for home. Or maybe a High School Musical one, or a Hannah Montana one. Ooh, maybe they have Camp Rock? But definitely NOT another chocolate one, because they HAVE to be different, okay?"

"Mum, how many sleeps again until my birthday?"

"Mum, when my friends come over for pizza and a movie, you WILL remember to light my birthday candles won't you? On the princessy-pink/High School Musical/Hannah Montana/Camp Rock cake. You know."

"Now mum, remember you promised that I could wear my own clothes to school instead of my school uniform on my BIRTHDAY. Can we go choose my clothes now? And we need to decide how I'm wearing my hair."

*dies*

It's all fun....

Thank God for the Weekend!!

Lordy! Lordy lordy lordy! What a week I've had! My aim since I started this blog has always been to blog each and every day. Last month, the NaNoWriMo madness threatened my plans, but I managed to blog almost every day, with only one day falling into the abyss. Great! Wonderful! If I can write a 50,000 word novel and continue to blog at the same time, normal months should be a piece of piss (as we Taffies like to say), right?

Wrong!!!

Let me recap on my week.

Monday

After said NaNo madness was finished (a day early too, did I mention that?), you can probably imagine the state of my house.  Consequently I spent a large portion of my day scrubbing, vacuuming, polishing, and washing laundry. On the plus side, I did manage to blog (even if it was only an excuse to post droolworthy pictures of the lovely, lovely Jensen Ackles). *shifty*

Tuesday

My mother could be called in at any time now for surgery, and as she helps out for a few old ladies, I promised I'd take over while she was in hospital and recuperating. The whole day was spent (once again) scrubbing, vacuuming, polishing and washing laundry. I just made it back in time to pick my daughter up from school, and then I had to stay for the Christmas fete (which was far too early in the month in my opinion). On the plus side, I managed to squeeze in a blog, and I am now also the proud owner of Christmas tree baubles made by my daughter (one of which has a picture of her inside). Nice!

Wednesday

This is where I dipped. Nightmare of a day, Wednesday. I spent all flipping morning at my bank trying to sort out the gigantic mess caused by a faulty cash machine which not only ate my card for no good reason, but insisted on saying that I had received the £200 that I had requested, when in fact I'd received sweet F.A. After several hours of stress, I was informed that I could have a temporary overdraft to cover my needs, as the missing £200 would take around three weeks to go back into my account. *mutters darkly* Of course, I now have to wait for the new card  (which arrived this morning) to become active, which is imperative as I still have a wad of pressies to order online before next Wednesday if I am to have any hope of them arriving in time for Christmas.

On the plus side, I had some nice news from my home site, HPANA. Voting was scarce this year, but regardless of the poor turn out, I was very pleased to discover that I won the Best Short Story of 2009, with my Pages from the Past  fanfic. Yay! A little cheer was nice, but the stress over the card situation sort of stole some of the joy. I was definitely in no mood to ramble, as I had no wish to unleash several paragraphs of venting on my poor, unsuspecting readers.

Thursday

It was quite a nice day, actually. I had two lovely emails from Burrowing buddies Tami and Leanne (and also from another online buddy, Kim), offering critique on my NaNo novel, along with some very encouraging words. *feels all warm and fuzzy*. My sister was visiting for the day, and my step-daughter also came to say hello (and stayed long enough to be Ellied by my daughter for several hours *lights candle for Amy*). My house is tiny, therefore we were jam-packed. By the time the kids were in bed and the visitors had left, it was late. Then hubby watched a film, which meant that by the time I got to the PC, it was way past 11pm and I was flagging. Hence, no blog for the second day in a row Erk.

                                                                   
                                                                       Today

Today I scrubbed, vacuumed, polished and washed laundry again. Only this time I was working very, very fast, and finding all sorts of extra jobs to do too. Why? Because on what was probably the coldest day of the year so far, my fire conked out. Yellow flames, soot residue, possible carbon monoxide etc, etc. I was running around like an idiot in an effort to keep warm. My house is so cold that I can safely say that I would have been warmer if I had stood in the street. Seriously. *shivers* Thankfully, the man from Swalec came and sorted everything out for me, and I now have heat (as well as expert knowledge on his cat, who is just recovering from a thyroid problem apparently).

Anywho, that's been my week. Many ups and downs, with little to no time on the computer. I'm just thankful that this didn't happen last week, or my NaNo would never have been completed. At least, that's what I'm telling myself; you have to find a silver lining somewhere, don't you?

P.S If you have a spare moment, please check out The Burrow. Our 2009 Advent Calender is now live! And it is fabulous, even if I say so myself. *nods*

*is querying questionable questions*

Half an hour ago I asked my husband for some advice. I told him I was stumped for a topic for today's blog, and asked him to give me a subject - any subject - to ramble about. He said 'I dunno'. Bingo. Not the answer I was exactly hoping for, but I thanked him anyway because without suggesting anything at all, he still gave me a subject to blog about. He's a good man, my hubby. *grins*

Annoying questions and answers  - that's my subject for today. You probably all know what I am talking about. Those stupid questions that aren't worth asking, or those answers that don't answer your initial question. Questions and answers so pointless that they aren't worth the effort of opening your mouth and speaking.

My number one annoying answer at the moment is 'surprise me'. There are a few people that I need to buy Christmas gifts for that I am completely stumped on. As a last resort, I'm asking them for ideas, which I think is the sensible thing to do. A surprise is all well and good, but I'd much rather buy something that a person wants or needs rather than give them something random that they will have absolutely no use for. So I ask them, "Can you give me a few ideas for Christmas?" And what do I get? "Surprise me."  (or even the irritating shoulder shrug accompanied by a bored 'I dunno').*bangs head against the wall*. If I didn't want an answer, I wouldn't ask the question!!!

Other exasperating questions.... let me see. Well, there's the incredibly stupid "Are you asleep?" *rolls eyes* Listen up boys and girls, and I'll let you in on a secret. You're never going to get a 'yes' to that question.  Nope. I know it's astonishing, but it's true. Affirmative responses are just not happening.

Then there's the "Are you reading?" Note, this normally only gets asked when you are sat down with your nose buried in - surprise of surprises - a book. *nods*  Duh!!! Yes, I am reading, you idiot, now shut up and let me continue before I ask  'Are you being annoying on purpose, or is that just the way you are naturally?"

Another favorite stupid question is "Are you busy?" Sometimes this question is a decent enough query, but more often than not it is asked when you are up to your eyes with dishes, ironing, and cooking etc. Honestly, does it look like I'm relaxing?  Do you perhaps think that I am not juggling enough chores, and maybe need something else added to the never-ending list of things that have to be done?

The most annoying question though, is something that has probably happened to all of us. Just imagine that you are snuggled up warmly under your cosy duvet, possibly snoring just a little bit. You're dreaming about something wonderful (or maybe not dreaming at all, just blissfully sleeping), lost in the sublime-ness of Snoozeland. Your spouse/sibling/child/housemate (take your pick) decides to impersonate a herd of elephants trampling up the stairs, and then turn their artistic talents towards physical comedy when they crash through the door and knock over an item that is obviously breakable, thus guaranteed to make a very loud noise as it lands on the floor. Your talented spouse/sibling/child/housemate then utters the most irritating question ever invented.

"Did I wake you?"

*pulls out hair*

Honestly, being woken up is not the worst of it, you also have to deal with the slight worry that you might be having a heart attack. And do you know what the silliest thing is about this whole scenario? In your head you are calling this person seven kinds of curse words, and are probably envisioning at least a dozen ways in which you could kill them, but make it look like an accident. While you are imagining these pleasing scenarios, thinking you may be the next best thing to a hit-man, your mouth has turned into the spokesperson for Lame Utd and is uttering something stupid like, "No, I was only dozing."

So yeah, I'm querying these senseless questions and answers. There are probably at least another hundred examples I could have used, but these few are the ones that crop up the most. I would end this by asking if any of YOU have these things happen to you too, but I'm guessing the answer would be a resounding YES, so I won't bother. We definitely do not need another pointless question....

Christmas Conundrum.

As we near the end of October, we're probably all thinking about the upcoming Christmas festivities. In fact, let's not kid ourselves here, if you are a parent, you've probably been thinking about Christmas since July.

I love Christmas. There's nothing that I love more than watching my kids dive into the mound of presents under the Christmas tree. I'm not religious as a rule, but Christmas is a big occasion for almost everyone, regardless of their beliefs. I enjoy all aspects of Christmas; the presents, the excitement, the opportunity to spend quality time with the family, well the whole caboodle really.

What I don't like is the inevitable stress that leads up to it. First there is the financial side of things. It doesn't matter how much you prepare for it, unless you are a millionaire you are going to struggle to find the cash required. I normally just about make it, but not without two months of juggling the bills and fretting almost constantly.

The biggest worry for me though, is working out what to get for people. My daughter is pretty easy; she's at the age where she has interests that are catered for by the toy industry. I normally give her the Argos book and tell her to circle her wish list. Inevitably, she will pick things that are completely unsuitable (honestly, does she really think that she's going to get a virtual dog that is £175? *snort*), but mostly she picks reasonable items that I am either able to purchase myself, or that family members can purchase instead. And of course, there is that all-important Special Present from Santa.

My son is a different story. In these days of the 'Must-Have Culture', my 13-year-old has pretty much everything. TV? Check. DVD/Video player? Check. PS2/Wii/ Nintendo DS? Check. PC? Check. Don't think that he's a spoilt child, because he's not. These items have been accumulated over the last four or five years. The question is, what the heck do you buy?

The silly thing is, however much I might chastise myself about worrying about this (because honestly, Christmas isn't supposed to be about the presents, right?), I still can't help but panic.

When I was a child, I used to roll my eyes whenever my dad used to come out with one of his "When I Was Young" speeches. Now that I am an adult, I can TOTALLY see where he was coming from. In my dad's day, Christmas meant a few much-needed pairs of socks, a scarf and some gloves, maybe a book or two, and the rare treat of fresh fruit and nuts in your stocking. He never ceased to tell me and my sisters how lucky we were to have as much as we did.

And you know what? We did have a lot when you compared it to his haul. And we thoroughly enjoyed waking up to our moderately-sized sacks filled with presents from our parents and other family members. There would be around twenty assorted presents consisting of books, puzzles, toiletries (including the good old novelty bubble bath), a board game or two, and that special present that you'd been hinting at since the beginning of December (one year I remember being desperate for a Walkman, and almost fainting from happiness when I received it).

As I remember the presents from my childhood, I wonder what the heck I am worrying about. It's awful when we get caught up in the frenzy of making sure that our kids don't miss out. The stuff I received as (what I called at the time) 'decent' presents, are now consigned to the 'Stocking Fillers' category. It's nuts.

It doesn't matter how often I tell myself to be less extravagant this year though, I will still end up spending money that I can't afford on making sure that my kids have a plentiful bounty to look forward to. It's bad, it's not leading them a very good example, but there we are. I just love seeing my kids' faces light up.

Still don't know what to get for my son though.*sighs*