January – 2009 – My Boyfriend Is A Twat

Monthly Archives: January 2009

>Fridays are for having fun.

Monday, January 12, 2009 – 5:30 am

>Last Friday we met up with a couple of friends of ours, had a long, boozy lunch which was followed by sight-seeing and an awful lot of drinking of beer as it was so hideously cold. In hind-sight, I didn’t drink much at all during lunch as the blokes were knocking back the wine while I had a couple of glasses and the best part of a litre of San Pelligrino. That made me feel quite a bit better as it made drinking a glass of clay that night much easier on the conscience.

Our friends were slightly worse for the wear and we managed to lose them in a tiny bar where a mate of theirs’ was playing. I’m not even sure how we lost them as one minute they were there and the next they weren’t. Nobody can lose someone in the Tropa bar, it’s so small, but it looks like Q and I have just managed to set a new record.

We looked everywhere for them, stayed on a little longer and then went home in time to get the last tram. Waiting for the tram was horrid though. The night was absolutely freezing – about -12°C, and the coldest night so far. I was so cold that all of a sudden I realised that I was crying from the cold which was a very bizarre experience. My back had also seized up due to the cold and movement was difficult. It took forever to thaw out once in the house but I’m still wondering how on earth we lost our friends. Damn it – I even have something to give them too.

The snow is still fairly thick around these parts which is mad for this country – especially as this is all from one snowfall. Still, it is quite pretty.

Oh, and if anybody sees a blonde woman wandering around with a bloke with a Russian style hat on, do let me know as they shouldn’t be here anymore.

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By Zoe | Posted in Friends | Comments (13)

>Getting more than your moneys worth.

Thursday, January 8, 2009 – 5:30 am

>When I went to get my hair cut yesterday I saw that the beautician who works downstairs was in the salon too as she obviously didn’t have a client to attend to. She is a lovely woman and apparently extremely good at her job aswell, specialising in all sorts of wonderful treatments including relexology which I have heard to be very beneficial. She also paints nails, if you’re at all interested.

Anyway, I didn’t want to see her. It was freezing cold outside so I entered with streaming eyes and nose, bright red cheeks and hair that was in dire need of love and affection. As I warmed up slowly, my cheeks remained flushed and my four spots stood out dreadfully. I could feel Georgette glancing at the state of my skin from afar, although in all fairness I think I was more aware of the monthly, blotchy horror that takes over.

After Maryline (my headresser) had given me a head massage that was even better than sex, not that we have had sex together, she told me that Georgette was looking at my face while I was having the odd ~~orgasm~~ nap as my head was gently being massaged to a piece of pulp. It sends shivers down your spine, you know. Try it.

The verdict is: my liver.

Georgette was very helpful and said that I should cut out all meat, caffeine, dairy products, chocolate, cigarettes (already done – ha!) and alcohol.

“How long for?”

“At least a year.”

Lying infront of the next passing tram suddenly became more appealing than spending the next year living the life of some Tibetan Monk. I love cheese, meat – especially red meat, red wine and the very thought of putting all of that aside only to be replaced by a plate of vegetables followed by fruit three times a day was quickly by-passed. I can live without coffee and eat more vegetables. That’s a good start.

I whispered to Maryline as to what to do and she suggested doing what she does: a glass of argile last thing at night and first thing in the morning. Apparently it’s very good for detox.

“Argile?”

“Oui.”

The word meant something to me at the back of my mind but I couldn’t think what, but decided to give it a go anyway as it’s so cheap. I bought some in a healthy shop and then the bells rang.

Clay! Argile is that clay stuff that I make mud packs out of for my face – well I used to until I found the stuff ready-made and in a tube. A bit like the Twat’s cooking.

I also picked up some of the most disgusting tea-bags in the world that are for “de-tox”. The taste of aniseed is far too strong, but I survived two cups of the stuff at work this morning.

I prepared my first glass of clay last night and it went down fine, although I think I put too much in. There is another one awaiting me by my bed, ready to be drunk just before I go shut-eye. If this works it’ll be a bloody miracle as I’m tired due to the lack of caffeine today, that tea is foul and I gave away all the green tea that I received from the Chinese Embassy over the years. That is priceless stuff over here and very good for you. But I’ll persevere.

Now, a glass of clay, anyone?

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By Zoe | Posted in Drinking clay | Comments (33)

>That meme from yonks ago….

Wednesday, January 7, 2009 – 12:01 am

>The one where you send me an email saying: ”Interview Me”, I respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

You can then answer the questions on your blog.

You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you wanting to be interviewed.

So for the newer bloggers who haven’t seen this one before, here are the five questions that Mr. Nighttime sent me:

1. The end of the world is one week from today. What is on your to do list?

As in: The World Really, Truly, Is Going To End? Then I would take all my savings out of my bank in this country, (possible from an ATM machine as things stand), go to the UK with my kids and empty my savings there, split the money between the four of us and the kids can do whatever they want with the money that they receive on one condition: we all have to be together (Quarsan included, of course) in a week’s time.

With my share I would like to visit the city where I was born, Saigon. Q is obliged to follow me. A short, but sweet trip – I hope.

2. Name one situation in your life that you said “no” to, that you should have said “yes” to.

That has to be further education. One year at a ‘posh’ Secretarial College simply doesn’t cut it. Where was the fun? The drugs? The alcohol? And most of all, decent qualifications? I regret not having got some decent qualifications but now manage to get by with my superior experience. Ho hum.

3. Name one situation in your life that you said “yes” to, that you should have said “no” to.

That’s a no-brainer, innit? I’d be a lot better off in life had I said ‘no’ on 19 June, 1993 (I think – I should check my wedding ring). The father of my children and I could have carried on unmarried thus avoiding a painful and costly divorce. I knew that I didn’t want to go ahead with the wedding the morning of The Day, but my parents lived here then and I was terrified of letting them down.

That really was a big mistake.

4. You find out that your kids are planning a big surprise birthday party, but you hate surprise parties. Do you tell them not to do it, or do you fake your own sense of surprise?

In this case, I think I’d leave the country for a while. That way I’d be out of the way and return for the ‘surprise’ party completely relaxed, with souvenirs for the kids so that everybody is happy. If I could afford it, I’d go somewhere warm so that I come back with a tan, healthy-looking skin and 5 kilos lighter after all the swimming. The break from Q and the kids alone would be worth it.

5. Albert Einstein or Johnny Rotten? Which one would you rather have a conversation with?

Johnny Rotten because, although I believe him to be an intelligent man, has lots of really good gossip, funny stories to tell and a wicked sense of humour. Mr Einstein, on the other hand, has never really appealed to me – and I can’t stand moustaches. They are the equivalent of an overgrown lady-garden, if you ask me.

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By Zoe | Posted in Meme | Comments (2)

>Where are the bloody vegetables?

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 – 12:01 am

>I have mentioned the Twat’s dire approach to cooking before, in that apart from his infamous pasta bake which we all love, everything else comes out of either a jar or a packet or is ready-made. So I decided to help.

The first introduction was a vegetable to a vegetable.

“Twat, this is a carrot. It is easily distinguishable by its phallic shape and bright orange colour.”

“Owdoo, carrot.”

“This is a potato, but you know all about potatoes. These are mange-tout, green and look like squashed pea-pods.”

“Owdoo spud. Owdoo mange-tout.”

That went fairly well, considering. It wasn’t until I showed him 2 chicken legs that he looked worried, as if to say that the vegetables were for fun – but chicken is meat. What should he do with 2 chicken legs. I explained how they should be cooked and gave him a tip for cooking everything together so that he didn’t have to deal with more than one pyrex dish and one saucepan, as he tends to forget about things.

And it worked – we started eating meat and veg at last.

But on Saturday, as I entered the kitchen to help the Twat tackle a bit of roast beef and found everything almost ready to be served, something didn’t seem to be quite right.

“Q, where are the mushrooms?”

“Oh, I forgot.”

“The onion?”

“Oh, I forgot.”

“And where the fuck are the beans??”

“Oh I forgot…”

“Get the fuck out of my way.”

As the Twat carved up chunks of beef (his carving skills are non-existent) I boiled up a kettle of water, top-and-tailed the beans as fast as possible while stirring the brown stuff that the Twat called Bisto or something.

We ended up with half a carrot each, barely-cooked runner beans, potatoes and roast beef. So to avoid asking where the fuck the vegetables are tonight, I’ve already prepared them with Todd’s divine help. Watching him top-and-tail runner beans 2 at a time was amusing and I certainly wasn’t going to show him how to do it quickly – let the boy find out. And he did, remarkably quickly, I’m pleased to say.

This is going so well that one day the Twat will ask me “where the fuck the meat is.”

I shall smile sweetly and say:

“In Delhaize.”

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By Zoe | Posted in cooking | Comments (10)

>Image012.jpg

Monday, January 5, 2009 – 3:32 pm

Shopping with my beloved as she stares at wine and makes up recipies on the spot. Here she examines a reflective band for cyclists. Under health and safety laws she should be wearing one. Especialy in supermarkets. Live blogged from Delhaize – another award winning post

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By Zoe | Posted in 1 | Comments (15)

>Happy New Year, Happy New Year, Happy New Year…

Monday, January 5, 2009 – 12:01 am

>So, it’s back to the office for most of Belgium today, apart from those lovely people who work as hairdressers, in supermarkets etc, etc. Even my kids go back to school – my daughters have two weeks of exams for which they have spent their two-week holiday studying for at great length.

But it’s not really that that annoys me. I want to go back to work, strangely enough. I love my new job, the people with whom I work and I want to start the new year feeling this positive. That is, until I have to start saying ‘Happy New Year’ over and over and over again. When is the new year not a new year? Once you have spoken to just about everybody you come into contact with…. so that will be:

- my 3 colleagues (that’s 3 x 3 kisses)
- 2 visitors scheduled for today (British visitors who don’t kiss – I think)
- whoever else I may bump into who also works in the building (god knows how many kisses that may involve)
- +/- 2 people at my bank (no kissing – I’ve no idea why they want me there)
- anyone else I may bump into today (+/- 5) (+/- 5 x 3 kisses)

= +/- 15 people, if I’m lucky.

But it never simply stops there,does it?

There is the phone. Each incoming phone call starts with, after the “Best Place In The World To Work (BPITWTW), good morning” will follow with “And a very Happy New Year to you too, Your Majesty” – or whatever. It always does. And after 15 January this does get a bit tiring. At least there’s no kissing to be done over the phone. At least, not yet. The future technology scares me in that respect and I may never answer the phone again if you are actually able to kiss down a phone line. And let’s face it kids, I’m sure it’ll happen one day.

Being So Continental does have its fall-backs. How do you explain that you have run out of kisses when your birthday is only the next month?

I need help on this one.

Now those are the verbal wishes for the new year. And kisses.

Then there are the emails.

Oh, and I’m finally seeing my hairdresser on Tuesday as my fringe is longer than Goldie Hawn’s ever was. I look like a fucking lapdog. More kisses and wishes etc despite having texted each other on 1st January. And her assistant. (An extra 2 x 3 kisses.)

When is it right to stop as I’m considering this coming midnight.

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By Zoe | Posted in NYE wishes | Comments (14)

>It’s that time of year again.

Friday, January 2, 2009 – 6:38 pm

>The beginning of January means one thing to quite a lot of bloggers, even those who won’t admit it – of which there are quite a few. And what’s that?

The Bloggies.

There are, as usual, several changes. The following three categories have been removed:

- Best American Weblog
- Best Art or Craft Weblog, and sadly,
- Best GLBT Weblog

and replaced by:

- Best Art, Craft or Design Weblog (slight clash there with ‘Best-designed Weblog’)
- Best Travel Weblog, and
- Best Microblog.

There are several blogs on my blogroll that I’d desperately love to see as a winner – blogs that I have nominated for over the past years. It is no secret that Peter at Naked Blog would love to win the ‘Lifetime Achievement Award’ so let’s try and make it his turn this year as personally, I think he deserves it.

So do get nominating as nominations close on 12 January.

Just think – you could be a winner too, even if you’re not a blogger.

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By Zoe | Posted in Bloggies 09 | Comments (13)