I found this draft from 2 years ago.

I was so much younger when I wrote this (!) and I forgot to post it I assume.  I'm turning 61 this year. Madness.
I'm obviously obsessed with age and need to get over it. So I will post this and put the subject to bed once and for all. Except I totally agree with what I said below. I'll underline it for you so you know what I'm on about.

Getting older ain't for wimps!
I know there's no alternative to it and it comes to all of us but I just think it's so unfair that we don't all age at more or less the same time.
I know, that's not plausible and clearly I haven't thought that through properly but I'm trying to make a point here.
Just as the realization is dawning that you are getting past your sell by date, comes the knowledge that the world is full of younger and much more beautiful people.
Who said the world belonged to them?
Who?

If they market any products to people my age then it's for something health, diet, teeth, bladder, arthritis, depression, depends, dysfunction, or dental fixative related.
Young people get funky music, sexy men, with no shirts on to boot, gorgeous models with funky clothes and shiny, shiny hair, perfect teeth and perky tits.
OK I know they're not my demographic any more but still.
I'M NOT DEAD YET!

Sorry, was I yelling?

I don't feel any different to those younger people.
It's just on the OUTSIDE that we.... er differ.
Inside, I'm still vibrant.
As long as I don't forget to exercise regularly, eat fish and greens, take my Vitamins every morning, noon and night, have my bones scanned yearly, my breasts squashed regularly and my insides probed with scopes now and again and I'm  in bed by 10, not forgetting to pee before I go.

I'm not THAT old.
Okay, I'm 59 this year which probably seems ancient to YOU, but God help me, when I'm 70 I'm going to yearn for this age.

I look in the mirror and thankfully my eyesight has declined with my looks so I'm not that aware. Except last week when I was being tailed by a woman across the aisle in the department store. Every time I looked up she looked back at me. She was middle aged and tired looking, overweight and quite drab! JEEBUS! It was me. I was walking past the same mirror. I wanted to lie down and die right there in the store. Cry in fact. How could this happen?  And,  more importantly, When?

Two weeks ago I went to enrol myself and a friend in an aerobics class. I dashed in after work and spoke to the fitness centre supervisor; filled out the forms, gave him my credit card and just before he processed it  he looked up at me as if for the first time and said, "Is this a normal membership, or do you want the senior's rate?'"
My heart stopped!
There was a rush of blood to my ears and a bloodcurdling scream threatened to leave my body.
Holding myself in check I pondered whether he was referring to the 55 plus senior. They call it grey power these days. AND though I don't even have any grey hair thank you very much, I was willing to settle for that at this point.

I tried to keep my voice level and portray a calmness I wasn't feeling. "It depends. What age is senior here then?'
"65 and over" he replied matter of factly.
You know that sound effect in the movies when the same words repeat over and over like a bad echo?
that's what I heard.
65! 65! 65! 65!!!!!!
(like on Revolution Number 9 by The Beatles. Number 9, Number 9, Number 9.)
I clutched the edge of his desk to prevent me from leaping across it and strangling him.
How dare he?
How could he?
I have NEVER been so insulted!
Then I choked back a tear.
"No." I said quietly as he processed my credit card. "Just the NORMAL membership."


See, not only am I old, I'm not even NORMAL anymore.
Nowadays I look at Judy Dench with a new found respect. Helen Mirren, Meryl Streep, Sharon Osbourne, women of my age. I have to look to them to carry the torch.

My boss turned 60 last year and she has just paid 9 THOUSAND DOLLARS for new teeth. She's had her hair dyed and her moles blasted off her face, she's lost 20 lbs and wears nicer clothes. She's obviously afraid, vewy vewy afwaid.

Just Do It!

So where was I?
I am still running and training for the Great North Run in Newcastle, England in September of this year. (Me and about 50,000 other people.) Thankfully it's still far enough away that I am not feeling panicked about it. YET!

I manage to get out most weeks 3 times a week, in spite of the disgusting amount of snow and below zero temps that we have had. I never pictured myself running in fine weather least of all in the cold, ice and snow,  but I've made the commitment and I have to stick to it.
Hang on, I will just take a minute to digest that amazing statement.
That is just SO unlike me.
I'm usually good at starting things but don't always follow them through.
I remember my mother used to roll her eyes whenever I made a big announcement about something I was going to do. She always told me I was a good starter and a bad finisher. Mother, you should`ve used reverse psychology on me.

So the flights are booked, my other half is coming to cheer me on. I`m running with my sister and her two daughters, my own wonderful daughter Jenn, and my amazing niece whose mum is one of the ladies going through the breast cancer treatment right now. This year the GNR is sponsored by Morrisson`s, the supermarket chain, so my sister Vron says we`ll be sure to get a pie and a packet of crisps at the finish line.

So I run with a group of fellow nutters in a club I`ve joined and in our group, the 5K group, we go out together and do our run in a series of 10 and 1`s. That means we run for 10 mins and walk for 1 minute. Don`t ask me why we do it that way, it`s just what the club does. But believe me when I say that that 1 minute break in between the 10 minute stretches is the one thing that keeps me going. If they took that away I could never run again! Honestly.

I`ve done 2 5K runs so far and the second one was a bit better than the first, time wise. There was another one this last Saturday but it was knee deep in snow and I get so tense trying to stop myself from falling that I can`t do it justice. That`s my excuse. So instead I went to a spinning class at the gym and the instructor yelled at us to ride like maniacs over the top of blasting music while the sweat dripped off my nose and onto the floor. It was fantastic!

So that`s where I am now.
Before you get any inspiring mental images of me loping along like a gazelle, I should disabuse you of that notion by telling you that right now I`m the oldest and the fattest and of course the slowest in our group. But I can only improve, RIGHT!

That was me before my first 5K run, The Santa Shuffle, in December last year. Believe me I did NOT look this good at the end of it. The nuclear reactor type glow is caused by the `go-faster-stripe` illumination on my jacket. That`s so they can find my body faster when I fall into a ditch.

Why don't you shout into my ear trumpet?

There's nowt wrong with getting older.
Because we know what the alternative is, right?
It's just that when you do start to get older then you realize you are now perceived as being 'past your sell by date' by others.

Namely: YOUNGER PEOPLE. 

I know. I was young myself once. I can remember it quite well, because it feels like it was only yesterday.
When I was younger I thought that anyone who had 10 or 20 years on me was over the hill and I dismissed them, for the most part, as has-beens
I wish I could go back in time and smack myself one upside the head. But it's part of the natural order I suppose.

Luckily, I am reassured by there being lots of famous, and not so famous, people in my age group who are still waving the flag for my generation. YAY FOR THE SEXAGENARIANS. Yes, we are defined as such because WE, of course, invented sex.

My peers are still doing their thing, some better than ever, (Annie Lennox for one) and  are aging gracefully, i.e. without the aid of plastic surgery. Believe me, in the industry I'm working in now I see people who are a lot younger than us who have been under the knife, or have been injected with something to fill in lines or plump up wrinkles. They may get rid of a line or two, or lift a sag here and there but the end result is still scary. It doesn't look right! Sorry. Why are we afraid to look our ages?

But, that's not what I was going to say was I?
I am on about young whippersnappers who think that the world belongs to THEM. That what they have currently at their fingertips, i.e. technology and other such amazing resources is their birth right and that people of my generation don't get it. They behave as if we are still trying to come to terms with the invention of the wheel.

Case in point:
I'm quite sure that a woman in her twenties with whom I work, speaks more slowly and a tad louder when she's telling me something about her life. Last week, talking about how she's charting her exercise schedule, she asked me if I knew what an APP was?
?
So I replied quite loudly, hand to ear in my crotchety old lady voice; "A NAP? YOU NEED A NAP? I'll give you a nap in a minute when I knock you out missy!"
She thinks I'm funny.
I really would like to slap her.

The thing is you do get a bit more forgetful as you get older. My mother had dementia so I am always on guard of course and I sometimes feel that the kids eye me cautiously when I make a faux pas in the lingo department. They do talk over the top of you too when they're all together. Luckily my other half and I in return, make eye signals to each other over their heads and realize that we were the same when we were, (oh that lovely word), younger  and no doubt their kids will do the same to them.  Ah, the circle of life.

So where was I?
Who are you?
Has anybody seen my keys?

Oh right. I was going to tell you that after my last post where I wrote about doing the Great North Run Half Marathon next September, (if-I-can-get-a-place) that I'm sticking to my guns. I've been walking/running for the last month and have joined a Running Club. The first 10 weeks are done as a clinic and the last one will be a 5K run on New Year's Eve. I think I'm the oldest one in the new runners group!

I may be heading over the hill, but I'm damn well going to run down the other side!

What was I thinking?

I am nothing if I'm not impulsive.
Therefore, it should come as no surprise that I just sometimes open my mouth and say things before I think them through.
Like telling people I want to participate in the Great North Run in 2015.
I was inspired after watching the fabulous opening ceremonies online and by my niece who was running for her charity, Alzheimer's, because that's what took the life of her grandmother, my mother.

This is a 1/2 marathon, 13 miles to be exact and it takes place in the North East of England every September.
Over 50,000 people participate.

What was I thinking?

Now I'll have to put my money where my mouth is and start training. There are a few pros and cons to my entering a competitive race for the first time. A half marathon indeed.
The pros are:
It will be a great boost to my self esteem if I manage to pull it off and as a side benefit I will get fit and hopefully lose weight in the process.

Awesome!

The cons are:
I am 60 years of age and will be 61 next year when the event happens. Maybe it's too late to start doing half marathons. Perhaps my knees or back or ankles will give out and I'll be crippled.
I am unfit.
I am overweight.
I haven't, in spite of searching my memory in a vain attempt to find something that would justify my madness,  ran for any period of time greater than the time it takes to run from the car to a building when it's pishing down.
I don't do any form of exercise at all.
I am lazy.
I am good at starting things but not always good at seeing them through.

So if I can stay motivated that will be the challenge.

I've started a little group on Facebook for my daughter, sister, and three nieces.  We are all aiming to compete (participate) next year. There'll be no competition on my part. Participating is the goal. It's so we can post our activities and progress to 'keep the dream alive' as it were.

So far I've increased my activity by walking daily; with the exception of last week which was very traumatic and I will hopefully post about that this week.
I live at the top of a very steep hill so that should help increase my fitness right?
Ooh that sounds grand doesn't it?
You picture me in a grand mansion at the end of a long, long, driveway on top of a very steep hill?
Not quite.
We live on the Niagara Escarpment which is lovely and from some vantage points on the hill you can see across Lake Ontario to Toronto where the CN Tower marks the horizon. On a clear day it's beautiful.

I stole this picture from the Great North Run website.
That's the Red Arrows Flying over the Tyne Bridge at the start of the race.

What an amazing start. Now if they can just keep jets with multi-coloured jetstreams flying overhead while I run, okay walk, for 13 miles I might stay motivated to finish.

Hello little blog

I do miss my little blog.
I come over here sometimes and have a peek and see how it's doing and check up on some of my favourite blogs; those ones over there on the right.
It's a bit like coming home. I'm not sure why I consistently neglect it but in spite of being full of good intentions it seems to happen.
Not today tho'. It's time I dropped in and brought it back to life a little.

Recently I've been spending a lot of  (okay, WAY too much) time on Facebook where I've been reconnecting with people I knew back in my old home town. Everybody's old home town has a FB page and if you want to go down memory lane it's the best possible place to do it. If they don't have a page for your home town then you need to start one.

There's something magical about childhood beginnings. Looking at pictures of places and people from over home, from times past evokes long forgotten memories which can often be quite emotional.

I think the older I get  means that in many ways, the past becomes more important. It's sort of like trying to figure out who you are and how you got here. I am hurtling towards a big birthday this year and I can't for the life of me figure out where the years have gone.

Someone on this FB page messaged me and mentioned quite a few details about myself and my family she recalled from growing up in the same street.  The funny thing is that I can not for the life of me remember HER. Nothing. I can go down the street and name every family in every house and this involves knowing the names of the people who lived in the houses to the left and the right of where she tells me she lived, but I cannot place her at all. I can picture the houses, the windows, the gardens, the curtains even. When I get to her house it's almost like it's boarded up in my head.  It's weird. I know I will walk or drive down that old street next time I'm visiting and then maybe the memory will be unlocked.

Then I've been messaging back and forwards with a girl I recognized on the page who lived in the next street to me. She had a large black, lazy old dog which we used to have to walk. I remember in her back garden was a magnificent gooseberry bush and we picked it bare and ate every one of those berries until I was almost sick. The first time I'd ever eaten gooseberries and I can instantly recall their taste now. I remembered her older sister who was part of a band with a very American name. Winetka Sound. It sounded so cool. They did 'gigs' in the North East and had a van with the band's name painted on the side. I told her my memories and she was thrilled. But. She can't remember the gooseberry bush and has only a vague idea of who I am. Not that this has stopped us becoming 'reacquainted'. We've been chatting online and sharing our 'my-life-so-far' stories. It seems it's enough that we share memories of other people and places, stories and events to connect us.

I've connected with several old friends from school. I went to the same school with all of the same people from infants to seniors, then I left at the age of 13 to go to a convent grammar school after passing my 13 plus. The worst two years of my life. They showed me the door at 15 which was a relief to me, because I'd never fitted in, but was a big shock for my mother, God love her. I shattered all of her dreams right there. Anyway I know all of the people from my first schools and have connected with them so easily again and hope to see some of them when I go home in May for a visit and a birthday celebration. I don't think I could say the same about the convent school. Don't know anyone from those days and probably wouldn't recognize their names or faces. I do  remember the nuns though.

So anyway. I have to go and fold some laundry and make a Sunday dinner for the troops; i.e. the family. But it's been nice to visit and I might come back again soon.

Clippy`s Helpful Tips pre 2014.

how to buy movie tickets online. find website. google will direct you first to a map on how to get to several movies theatres in your province. not useful, because you need to buy tickets first. select city and theatre. select movie and time of show. select number of tickets required. click on PROCEED at the bottom of the page. when requested enter user name and log in. create new password when username and password are rejected. create new username when robot tells you this is NOT your username!  i) go to inbox to retrieve email requesting confirmation of your application. respond to email by clicking on link in the body of the message. ii). return  to inbox to retrieve your computer generated password.   not working? did you check the box that says yes, you did in fact generate the request for movie theatre membership.. go back and check the box. check ALL boxes to be on the safe side.  connect to the movie website (again). begin the process again and enter the same information using your new username and password.  repeat this twice. passwords do not match.  you have been timed out. go back to email click on link again, don't forget to ACCEPT the terms and conditions of your membership.   
do you want to share your movie membership on Facebook? (no I prefer to keep the exciting details of my fascinatingly hectic private life to myself thank you.) 

select payment method. enter credit card number, expiry date and 3 digit security number on back of card.  complete a security interception by your bank asking for  a password you may or may not have created the last time you shopped online. create NEW password. confirm you are in fact, YOU by entering your date of birth, your mother's maiden name and the name of your first pet and possibly the street you lived on growing up.  verify your purchase and proceed to check out. Not yet? return to movie website and NOW complete purchase. check box to receive tickets in your email. go to email. open attachment. print tickets. tickets do not print. try again. tickets still do not print. printer is unresponsive. reboot computer. wait for computer to restart. now enter your password to log in. ask yourself why do you even have a password on your computer in the first place. wait for printer to begin to print.  Success, it is printing! and printing. it is printing 3 copies of an article it REFUSED to print 3 weeks ago. no tickets are printed. 

3 copies of old article are each 4 pages long. reams of paper are spewing out of your printer faster than it`s ever printed before. it seems almost angry!!  go to email. open attachment and reprint tickets. success. tickets print. 3 times and 3 pages each. hand tickets to daughter who is going to the movies with her niece and nephew.  rip up 23 pages of unnecessary printing in a frenzy. lie down. 

next time go to box office. buy tickets from spotty teenager.  

Happy New Year Bloggers

Close the netty door!

I just spent five minutes reading the comments on my last post. Thanks for those. I was looking for the Like button after each one.I just can't make my mind up on whether I should reply to your comment if you were so kind as to leave one. Do you come back to check or have you just moved on completely? It's a tough call so when in doubt, do nowt is my motto.
Just know that your words are like gold unto me. I love you.

Moving right along.

I was in the grocery store this morning and tho' we are practically a border town, 11kms from Niagara Falls and the bridge to the USA, I try to spend my money in Canada to support, well the Chinese economy basically.  You know, so they become stronger to take over the world, making us all work in their paddy fields and forcing us to bear one child per household, not to mention eating our rice with chopsticks! How ridiculous is that? I'll go to a POW camp first Mr Chan.

And because I'm too bloody lazy to be interrogated by a customs officer for a carton of milk and a brick of cheese, a case of beer and a tank of gas I don't do what most of the people I know do, which is cross border shop. Which makes them think they have the right to say to me, "HOW much did you pay for those? You know you can get that at TOPS, KOHLS, or insert name of US store here ____________ for a buck fifty."
Smug buggers.

But the point of this is, I was strolling down the aisles in a  local Canadian grocery store this morning, which is normally too expensive for my tastes, but I just couldn't be bothered to be bothered and go another 2kms for a bargain at the cheaper grocery store, when  I almost keeled over. There on the shelves, stacked high and proud,  I saw a pack of 12 double sized toilet rolls for $21.99!!!!
My mouth fell open and I dutifully informed several other shoppers wheeling by, as they squeezed the various packages to determine softness.
"Have you SEEN the price of THESE?"

Nobody seemed to care. They were rating the bog rolls by 'quality' amount of sheets per roll, thickness, weight, length and God knows what else!
Have we lost our minds?
I saw an ad on TV for bog rolls the other day, there was some kind of philharmonic music playing while happy people looked content and (smug) with their choice of bog roll????  What is happening to us? Where's it all going to end?

 I would like to go on record here and now, for the 5 people that might drop by in the next 2 months before I post again, that I will never, EVER, as long as I HAVE a rear end, pay $21.99 for bog roll to wipe my rear end on! I will cross border shop before I do that!

Or, if I still can't be bothered to do that,  I'll hang squares of newspaper on a nail on the back of the door like me mother used to when I was a child. It will prepare me for the hardships of the forced labour camp to come.

:-)

Can you last the night?

I've just finished knocking all the cobwebs down with a broom.
It's a bit untidy and echo-ey in here. 
HALLL0000000!

I have not read anyone's blog or even looked at my own for a while until today. Just had a little browse to see what you've all been up to.
 I looked at the sidebar where I list the people whose blogs I was reading regularly and it's quite sad. Some of the people I loved to read have died! I felt like I knew them personally and I still miss them.

Others have been through hell and high water but still manage to make me smile!
Some have just downright neglected their blogs (how could they?) and have not posted for many a long while.

Well really!

Time for a fresh start.
I've missed you.

I had to put that security thing on my comments thing because I was literally getting like 2000 spam messages every day. Mostly they came in the middle of the night for some reason and my blackberry would 'ding' like 14 times in a row when I forgot to put it on mute, and it would wake me up and then I'd HAVE to read what it said, no matter how inane.. Some of them were quite  fascinating and I would spend far too long just  trying to decipher what they were actually trying to get me to buy.  I had to put a stop to it. Really it's relentless isn't it?  Does anybody EVER respond to spam comments selling Viagra, Cyalis, and other shite? I wish I had kept some of them now, to share here, because one or two were real works of art and wonders to behold. I recall this one which went something like this, 'Greetings for your beuaty (sic) and your writings of your humerus (sic)  story so much for me to admire and chortle (?) about and telling of it back to people and then they say how can we buy the new thing that will make us go all night? What can we say that we laugh about and repeat and repeat? We admire you and care for your work, keep us informed."

What can it mean?
Damned robots.

I hate those security things that you have to read, which are impossible to see, and then you THINK you've typed it in and it won't accept it and then you have to do it again, and again. 

You're never going to comment here again are you?

Say Ch**se?

Do you ever PANIC  in case the FBI, CIA, NSA, MI5, or some such LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY  is going to come storming into your house, dressed  SWAT STYLE and brandishing high powered weapons; crashing down the front door as they SCREAM and YELL and then proceed to arrest you and  haul you off to GITMO?

I KNOW! ME TOO!

Considering when I wrote my last post I'd Googled a few words which aren't usually part of my everyday jargon; and then yesterday I Googled 'SEMTEX' because I was leaving a comment on someone's blog regarding cheese and wasn't sure how to spell it!

My comment was about _S________  and its resemblance to cheese. (Don't want to keep using that word so I'll let you  fill in the _______________________for yourself).
(I'm afraid that the more I use it the more likely I am to tip off the anti______ squad that I'm writing words like that.)

We all know there are thousands of people who are employed to sit for endless hours, in front of banks of computers in order to read/scan our emails, blogs and Facebook posts all day long, every day, to make sure we're behaving and not threatening National Security etc. They   zone in on buzz words such as ______________ and ____________________. 

You can see why I'm worried.

(I'm sure my using those two words N__________  and  S________ in the same paragraph as the other s_____________ word,  has set off at least 17 alarm bells in that office;  red lights FLASHING, klaxons BLARING and people jumping to their feet, grabbing assault rifles and flak jackets, as their chairs go SPINNING out behind them.)

I was writing about s__________ because FLY 's post about Cheese, which was most mouth-watering, reminded me of my dear Ma in Law, who is always referred to as NooNoo.

Quite a few years ago on one of her many visits from England to Canada, she arrived heavy-laden with luggage. She had  brought only a few clothes, but she did have a frozen leg of HAM, a MASSIVE block of cheese that greatly resembled ______________ ,
as per this image: (which I found on Wikipedia)
 
and that entailed me typing in that word _s__________ again to find said image and then COPY AND PASTE e it to HERE  from THERE!   

Oh God, what have I done?

NooNoo also had several tins of Marrowfat peas, Rington's teabags, Cadbury's chocolate, Curly Wurly's,  Blue Ribands, Penguins and Creme Eggs for the kids, Turkish Delights for my other half, her
 favourite son,  and a bottle of WINDOLENE  for me! 
Yes, WINDOLENE!
Not WINE!

I think that may have been her subtle way of telling me that I should go on a diet.
 (I am not sure if Windolene can be used in assembling exp---ing de---es, but man it made my patio windows shine!)

It was my other half who remarked on the resemblance between a massive block of  s____________ and that block of cheese! 

Don't ask me HOW that sweet little old lady got through customs and security with all of those goodies in her bags. I suppose those were easier times back then -  before that day when EVERYTHING CHANGED.

You know, THAT day!
I'm definitely not writing THAT down!

uh-oh is that the door?
QUICK! HIDE THE CHEESE!

I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you.

because I have been working for the government, (and obviously i'm not at liberty to say which government), doing undercover work, i have been unable to write any posts for a VERY long time.

if my cover was successful then you probably won't even have been aware of my absence. which means my cunning plan worked!

my work is top secret and very IMPORTANT and leaves me little time for  much else.
when i'm online i'm mainly deciphering top secret codes, tracking agents, that sort of thing.

sometimes though, while i'm waiting for agent so and so to make a move or to send a signal,  i read YOUR blogs and i see that everything's been getting along quite nicely without me.

there YOU are, posting left right and centre and looking, quite frankly, a little smug.
well,
if i had NOTHING better or as IMPORTANT to do then i might be able to keep up with you.
but i do.
so i can't.

however now that the US election is sorted and i can relax a little, i thought i'd better take a minute or two to log on, as it were, to something that doesn't require me to have my eyeball scanned while my thumbprint is verified.

it's time to get back to normality.

and even, reality. (!)

so.... 
right then, now what?

well, er that's it really.
nothing else actually.

don't try to decipher this message if you're thinking that it might be some kind of encrypted code because frankly, smarter people than you have tried.

and look where it got THEM! 

 

over and out Roger!

 

 

http://www.kidzworld.com/article/7261-becoming-a-secret-agent  

 http://www.infowars.com/source-secret-service-agent-dead-of-apparent-suicide/

this is where I stole the images

Something to think about

I've been reading some of the same blogs for several years now and one of them is by a person I've come to think of as a friend. Her name is Chris and she lives in Nebraska

During the last year I have been saddened to read her frank, often funny and always heartfelt posts as her life has been turned upside down. A long term relationship with her English girlfriend fell apart and left her devastated and alone. Then fate kicked in and kicked her harder with one death's door illness and life changing event after another.

I should say Chris and I  have never met  (yet) though I've not met any of the people whose blogs I visit either, but after a while you just know who the people are that you would like in real life because you relate to what they write, or just plain enjoy their spin on things.

Chris is living below the bread line. She is a nurse but now is in danger of losing her nursing license as she cannot afford to renew it. That would take away the only future chance she has of digging herself out of this mess, because as you know, the further down into the hole you go, the harder it is to climb out. In fact she's lived on NOTHING for several months, except for the kindness of some of her family. She cannot get government assistance although she's fighting the system - Good Luck with that if Romney gets in, he's already discounted people like her anyway.

She has always shared her story but wasn't asking for help. She was just desperate and hoping for something good to happen. A few other people I've 'met' through reading each others blogs thought that it would be a good idea, and perhaps her only chance, if she was to sign up with  this amazing website to get her out of this situation and help her move forward. So we persuaded her to do it. You will see the link to it at the top of my page.

It seems that each of us, unbeknown to the other, had wanted to do something for her.  We discovered this when we emailed each other, wondering what could be done. We'd each felt that alone, our meagre contribution would be a drop in the bucket and wouldn't make much difference. But now with this, she is already on her way to her goal of $2000.

Personally, I think that's an unrealistic goal. Rent and nursing licenses and 'luxuries' such as food and gas will not be covered by that amount and I'd like to see her get more than that. To not just pull her out of the hole, but to help her feel a bit more secure as she moves forward. Believe me, she will get up again. I don't know that I would have been able to under the same circumstances but she's an amazing lady. I'm pretty sure I might have laid down and refused to go on should the same, or even ANY of those things, have happened to me. Sometimes I was afraid to read her latest posts because I feared what else could go wrong and when she stopped posting for a while I knew that it was really just too much for her to even share anymore.

I hope that you will feel inclined to contribute any small amount at all that you can afford. Even a few dollars from enough people is a life changer. 

I see this as giving a deserving person a hand UP and not a hand OUT.
I hope you will too.

Thanks for reading.
Clippy.

Go Away! Leave me alone.

Just like Greta Garbo,  I 'vant to be alone.'
I crave solitude.
In fact this morning as I dusted the living room furniture, punched up the pillows and realigned everything on the book shelf (don't spirit levels come in handy?) I had the urge to just plop down on the couch and put my feet up. Silly moi!

So, I organized my books into a neat pile on top of the footstool. From large to small, they stacked almost a foot high.  These are the books that I've been trying to find time to read this year. I don't want to put them on the bookshelf because that would be like admitting defeat; as long as they're out there in front of the arm chair then I can imagine that I'm going to have the time to sit down and read one of them. And maybe even FINISH it! They are all half begun because soon I'm disturbed by the needs of people and the world, (selfish buggers).

I also re-stacked my unread magazines and lovingly stroked their covers as I lined them up in chronological order.  (You do that too, right?)

When I finished I thought how nice and tranquil the room looked.
Neat and tidy and very welcoming.

If only I had TIME to sit in it.

I found myself seriously daydreaming about being locked in there with my unfinished reading material.  I have my music in there too. Hundreds of tunes on my iPod.  If someone was to slide some food in from time to time through the door, opened only wide enough to allow a tray and a cup glass to pass through, I would be in my element.

I saw a contraption in a store today. It's a tray of sorts which fits across the top of the bath by clamping to either side of it.  It comes with a stand which folds out as a book rest and a little groove for your wine glass, plus a space for a candle!! How Ridiculous! Who's got time for THAT?  I've tried reading in the bath but I've dropped the book in the water more times than I can remember because I always fall asleep as soon as I get in.  I've tried drinking wine in the bath too but I've ended up with a wine stained, soaking wet book.  I dread to think what would happen if I added a candle to the mix. Though it might come in handy for drying the pages.

I suppose you are wondering what kind of demands I have on my time which are so important that I don't even have time to sit and read? Me too! Where does the time go? Up to the age of 40 it meandered along, slowly and often pleasantly. My kids grew up at the usual pace, taking the required time to experience childhood milestones, then puberty, followed by those wonderful teenage years, which are all now (thankfully), a bit of a blur. There always seemed to be time to sit and read books, from start to finish and sometimes, if it was a real page turner I'd read it in one day! I'm baffled as to how I ever managed such a thing? Housework got done, I went to work, I cooked and shopped and went out socially a LOT.  There was never a rush to do things. There was always tomorrow.

Now after 50 and hurtling towards 60 in another few years...................... (God why are you doing this to me? Please make it STOP!) the time is rushing by in a blur. 

I wake up on Monday morning and then, BANG, it's Sunday night again. A week just flew by. Did anybody see it?

Somebody is bound to comment, "You really must make time for yourself Clippy!" 

Well yes, that's true. Tell me where to find that precious time. Even as I sit here blogging it's mocking me from behind and whispering about the hundred other things I've left undone. Do I really have time to even post this? 

If I was to believe those unread magazines, I also must make time to exercise, say prayers, meditate and do yoga, coordinate my wardrobe for the week, declutter my cupboards, drawers and closets, email my family and friends and waste time catch up on Facebook. I must try to keep my hair styled and my nails painted, my feet pedicured and for certain keep those dreaded and unsightly wrinkles and sags at bay. God forbid I don't look flawless at all times.  I must not forget also to keep abreast (geddit?) of  all the bloody things that are required to prevent a post-menopausal woman from dropping to bits. 

I must plan nutritious meals which shouldn't involve mad, last minute shopping on the way home from work and queuing up in front of stupid self-service check outs to tussle with a robotic Nazi who demands I put my goods ON the magic eye thing* and then, two seconds later, ORDERS me to remove them. Then as I struggle to bag my goods and begone, its condescending female voice   orders me, with a new command every few seconds to; "PLEASE TAKE YOUR CHANGE!" "DON'T FORGET YOUR RECEIPT!" "PLEASE REMOVE YOUR BAGS!"  "DON'T FORGET TO TAKE YOUR PURCHASES" (what am I, daft?)  "DON'T FORGET TO GO HOME!"  "YOU HAVE BOUGHT A COMPLETE LOAD OF RUBBISH AND NONE OF IT IS SUITABLE TO MAKE A DECENT MEAL." " DON'T FORGET TO STOP AND PICK UP SOME WINE. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT!"  "THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING HERE. HAVE A NICE DAY!'  " NOW GET OUT!"
  Very soon, I'm going to lock myself in the living room for a whole weekend and not come out till I've listened to all the music I've downloaded and not had time to enjoy, and I will finish all of those half read books and unopened magazines, and I will snort at the ridiculous ideals they want me to aspire to, in order to be fulfilled and 'fully alive'.  I will spill wine on my book covers, lounge over the crushed pillows with my feet up,  get grease stains on the pages and drop crumbs between the cushions on the couch!

I'm not going to shower or get dressed either, or comb my hair,  or probably not even look in a mirror the whole time.   So don't bother visiting. It ain't going to be pretty.


 .
*technical term for that thing that you slide your purchase in front of, bar code facing in, or is it down? it beeps, you know, that thing!

I Cook therefore I am. NOT!

I watch the odd cooking show and I confess to being addicted to the train wreck that is Gordon Ramsay on whatever show he is on, which appears to be most of them on US TV at the moment. I watch because I live in hope that one day somebody will give him a taste of his own medicine instead of meekly saying "YES CHEF!" in response to his verbal assaults and temper tantrums.

But the point is, chefs like him (but alas not their students) make it all look so simple.
I'm not that great in the kitchen, but I've had me moments. In 40 years of marriage I've learned a thing or three and two of those things were to get in and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible. Because, let's face it, it's not just the bloody cooking is it? I mean they don't show you the hours of washing pots and pans after it's all done do they? They casually destroy a kitchen in minutes flat, but the fairies must be waiting in the wings for the clean up part, and then you see the finished result which looks mouthwateringly good, not to mention attractively plated and ready to serve. Nobody ever turns the camera on the kitchen sink, walls and floor, fridge and stove aftermath and says, "Now look at THAT bloody mess! It's going to take me FOREVER to clean that sh*t up!"

So I know I'm apt to start imagining things and  I really should think twice when the urge takes me to get in the kitchen and 'create' after watching one of these shows.  "God, that looks SO EASY!" I think. "And as a matter of fact I think I have most of those very ingredients in my fridge and cupboards. I think I'll just go upstairs to the kitchen right NOW and knock that very dish up for my lovely husband."
and I'm quite excited at the thought of all that blending and cutting and mixing and stirring. I can visualize the end result and I just KNOW it's going to be wonderful.


and that's when the trouble starts.
I put a Jamie Oliver video on the Ipad and put it on the kitchen counter next to me as I worked. I was going to make a) Jamie's Fish Pie and b) Jamie's meatballs. Two different meals taken care of for the coming week. Look at me I'm flipping marvelous.

I followed Jamie's steps to a T!
Jamie's fish pie looked fab. My fish pie was absolutely horrendous. How could this be? My other half dutifully ate his way through a plate of the stuff as did I. "Mmmm" he said and smacked his lips as I served it up. By the end we were both silent. I tossed the rest into the compost bin and we've not mentioned it since. Jamie One, Clippy Nil.

Onwards and upwards.
b) Meatballs. Do this! Said Jamie, Yep! Said I.  Do that, he ordered. Yep, I obeyed. Done, done and done.
Serve with pasta. Smelled divine. I channeled my inner Italian Mama for this one. Into the fridge they went to be consumed as meal number two this week.

It may have taken me most of the rest of the day to clean up the resulting mess and destruction -  but it was SURE to be worth it.

OH GOD how is this possible? My other half has just phoned me from work. I sent him with a container of pasta and meatballs for himself and his partner for their evening meal as they are on the late shift.
Panic stricken he asked, "What did you eat for supper?"
Me: "Pasta and meatballs."
Him: "er How was it?"
Me: "Dreadful! I don't think they were right somehow...."
Him: "Gary thinks I'm trying to poison him. They were still pink in the middle."
Me: "Did you both eat them?"
Him: " I ate most of mine. Gary spat his out."
Me: ":Why did you eat yours then?"
Him: "I knew you'd be upset."
Me: "We're going to die."

From now on  I'm going to watch DIY shows only. We have a lot of tools in our shed and I really think I could knock up a nice piece of furniture. It looks quite easy on TV.

Image from here
 

The Bathroom Blues

you know when you go in a restaurant bathroom which is all tiled and gleaming, with soft lights and piped sweet music and you feel all good about it, then you sit down and see the six inches of crud with bits of DNA in it encrusted around the door frame where it meets the tiled floor?
i HATE that!

you know when you go in a bathroom after someone and they have left a stink which you didn't notice until you got in there. and then you leave and the person who follows you in lets out a groan and everyone looks at YOU while you're washing your hands?
i HATE that!

you know when you go in a bathroom stall and there's a tile with a HIGHLY polished glaze on the floor, so shiny  that when you look down you can see the person in the next stall and what they are doing? and you can't look away? until you realize that they are also looking at YOU?
i HATE that!

you know when you go in a public bathroom and there's one cubicle that becomes vacant after a person who emerges looking hot, sweaty and dishevelled? you know that's exactly when YOUR turn comes around.
i HATE that!

you know when you go in a bathroom stall after someone didn't flush properly and they left a skid mark in the bowl and a piece of suspicious toilet paper stuck to the seat?
i HATE that!

you know when you go in the ladies' room and the lady in the next cubicle pees and then farts accidentally?
i always laugh when that happens.
but i HATE that if i'm the one that did it.

you know when you go to the bathroom in someone's house and they've forgotten to refill the empty toilet roll holder and there doesn't seem to be a cupboard or a place where they would keep another roll?
what are you supposed to do? walk downstairs with your pants around your ankles and say, 'er, excuse me, sorry to interrupt the dinner party but do you happen to have another ....? oh thanks!"
i HATE that!

you know when you go to the bathroom and the person washing their hands next to you doesn't really 'wash' their hands, just flips the tap on and off, sticks them under for a nano-second and then shakes the drips off as they exit?
i HATE that!

you know when you are in a stall and the toilet starts to flush the SECOND before you fully stand up and that means that the toilet paper hasn't actually exited with the rest of the flush so you have to sit back down and stand up quickly two or three times in a row to start the flushing process again and you know that the people outside can see your feet under the door and are wondering why you are bobbing up and down as if you're doing some kind of weird hokey cokey dance ritual?
i HATE that!

you know when you're in a bathroom stall and there's a wide gap between the door and the door frame because it's that new cubicle design and god forbid there should actually be a door that SEALS all the way around and you know that everyone in the line up is looking thru all the gaps in all of the doors to see who's doing what? which is what YOU do when you're in the line up.
i HATE that!

you know when you're in the bathroom stall and you sit down in a hurry and you hadn't noticed that there was something in the bowl until you stand up and inwardly SCREAM, 'WHAT THE HELL IS THAT! I DID NOT PUT THAT IN THERE!" and then you yank on the handle and it just is all limp and won't even respond to your yanking on it so that you have to leave the stall looking at the floor as the next person goes in after you and you try to wash your hands and leave the bathroom before she gets out and scans the people to see which horrible person was in there before her?
I HATE that!

you know when you're in a restaurant where the bathroom is down stairs, along a dark corridor and practically in another postal code and you have to flip lights on as you go, 'is it this door?' "is it that door?" until finally you see it at the end of another hall and the door sqeee--aaa--eeeks open and then B-A-N-G-S behind you as you arrange yourself on the toilet seat  and you think you're alone until you see a shadow on the floor between yours and the next cubicle and  hear a soft breath and you realize that it's really a mad axe murderer whose waiting to climb over the wall to cleave your head in as you sit there without being able to even pee enough to fill a thimble whereas 2 minutes before you needed to go so bad you could taste it?
i HATE that!

what about you?

A p.s. to my last post

Regarding lost rings. I came across this story.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-16374283


this is the part that i love:

"The couple believe the ring fell into a sink back in 1995 and was lost in vegetable peelings that were turned into compost or fed to their sheep."



see, it could happen.
the sheep laid a golden egg!

Hey, did your dog lay a golden egg yet?

that's the question i'm going to ask my brother and his wife.
you see several months ago we went to england for my niece's wedding.
the reception afterwards was a lovely outdoorsy event and a good time was had by all.
when i was in the taxi on the way home i went to twiddle my wedding band on my little finger, which is my habit, and with a heart stopping shock i realized that it was gone!!
i should explain, my wedding band was worn on the little finger of my right hand for these last few years. over the years i think it shrunk (!) and it didn't fit my finger anymore.
so i started wearing a bigger wedding band and because i couldn't not wear my 'real' one i just transferred it to my right hand.
it was more noticeable to me on my right hand too.
once that ring graduated to my right little finger i noticed it all the time.
i twirled it constantly.
when i needed to think, i turned it around and around.
so imagine my shock when i realized it was GONE!

truth be told it was getting a bit too big and it had fallen off a couple of times but i'd always caught it.
i thought i was very careful.
when i wasn't twiddling it, my thumb grazed it every few seconds to check it was still there.
i'm still doing that now, six months later.
it's like a phantom leg that's been amputated.

i was absolutely devastated.
last year we were married 40 years.
that wedding ring cost 10 guineas 40 years ago.
guineas?
a guinea was worth one pound and one shilling in 1971 (way before YOU were born) and before decimalisation.
it didn't matter how much it cost and i've always suspected that i wasn't its first owner either.
inscribed inside the band was the word "Lucky".
i never knew why that was there or who put it there and it took me a few years to notice it.
when i did, i was baffled that i'd not noticed it before.
i'd always thought it just appeared out of nowhere at some point.
but wasn't that a good omen?
apparently only for 40 years.
and then my luck ran out.

my brother and his wife had some people go over the field with a metal detector once i'd discovered my loss after the wedding.
i went up when the crew came to take down the marquee and i personally went through the bins and looked in the trailers that housed the toilets.
i went through the rubbish bags and that wasn't pretty.
but
i didn't find it.

so back to the dogs.
my brother and his wife have two lovely labradors.
they will eat ANYTHING.
but only if they're not supposed to.
my only hope is that one of them will snuffle through the grass one day, find it and eat it.
then they'll lay a golden egg.

what're the chances do you think?

 it was a VERY big field and i think we combed every inch

 many things got left behind that day

i wonder if i dropped it in one of those haybales?
too late now, probably got eaten by the horse in the next field later on that week.
hmm, wonder if HE laid a golden egg?

QUICK! tidy up

company's coming over.
would you believe it?

my nephew's wife in the uk, a lovely lass called Nikki, was recently told on Facebook about my blog by an unsuspecting relative.
unsuspecting in that he doesn't know that i don't tell ANYONE about my blog.
especially NOT people on FB.
otherwise my work colleagues would know and it wouldn't be too hard for them to troll thru older posts and find less than flattering anecdotes about themselves and their colleagues would it?
that would NOT do.
then what would i do as an outlet?
one has got to have one's secrets hasn't one?

my unsuspecting releative, aka husband's cousin's daughter's husband, made a passing remark to Nikki about MY blog, after MY comment today that HER updates on FB are so funny that SHE should blog about her life and times.
(it would be immensely readable.)

he mentioned that "pat", aka yours truly, "knew about blogging because she has a blog which is easy to find if you google 'clippy mat'".

SCREAM!!!

"?"
was her response.

so i've had to come clean.
and now guess what?
she's only going to come and visit tomorrow isn't she?
so let's see, let's do a bit of damage control before she gets here.
right now she'll be in bed as it's almost 1.30 in the UK.
that's in the a.m.
time is of the essence.
make haste to make a good impression and hope that she won't see thru the facade.

let's pretend that the last posts i posted, ALL the way back in november, when i was seriously full of good intentions about nablowhatsit and blogging every day for that month, and which turned out to be co-authored by my pet fish (!) were a lot funnier than they were.
not sure how to give that impression, and i've even thought of deleting them but what the hell.
i liked them at the time.

hopefully she won't notice that there's been nothing written since then.
perhaps she'll go back thru some old posts and find the odd one to raise a smile.
'tis my only hope.

wouldn't want her to pop in and find us all neglected and abandoned would we?
"call THIS a blog?" she might well be inclined to say when she gets here.

can't have that.

SO  shift yourself off that chair there and plump those cushions.
and
take those dirty dishes off the table and put them in the dishwasher and get those plants watered and don't forget to gather up the newspapers and magazines from every surface and recycle them for gawd's sake.
Jeebus! are they CUP RING STAINS on that table?
what the hell?
get a damp cloth at once!

and OPEN the blinds would you and let a bit light in.
what will she think if she comes here and sees that DUST!!?
STOP!!
DO NOT write your name in it.

right, we've got a few hours till she gets here as she's in england as i say and fast asleep as we speak.
but i happen to know she's a very early riser.
so look sharp.

light a few scented candles and plug in one of them airfreshner thingies.
sit up straight.
and just smile and nod when she comes by.

hopefully she won't stay too long.

frank's theory of time, energy, inertia and velocity.

Hey, clocks went back last night Frank.

yeah? in my timeless existence clocks are meaningless. it's just tardis man.

tardis frank?

Time and Relative Dimensions in Space man.

spaceman? oh right. tho' you do have a natural rhythmn to your existence frank.

i do?

yes, well when i leave the room at the end of the day i turn the light out and...

leave me in the dark?

yes. well that means it's night time and it's time to..

sleep?

well, rest. yes.

rest? man you aint very observant, you know what i'm sayin'?  when have you ever seen me do the opposite of rest?

well you do lead a pretty static sort of life frank, now that you mention it. i haven't observed you moving much since i've been sat here.,

dude, i..

DUDE? really frank. do i look like a dude to you?

it's a term of endearment man.

well for that matter im not a man either frank. but point taken. if it's used in that frame of reference then i can't object.

as i was sayin'...

go on frank. i'm all ears.  which you're not are you frank?

i'm not what?

all ears frank. ha ha ha. i'm just making a joke there.

yeah? you think so? pardon me for not doubling up there dude. i never had no need for no ears iffen you must know. already told you i'm an intuitive thinker and communicate telepathically. ears'd be redundant man. you should know that.

i suppose so. well anyway we were talking about your static existence frank.  it's what you're doing now. just 'hanging' there and looking at me. you know you spend a lot of time just hanging, suspended in space as it were.

as it were? that's exactly what it IS man. it's a higher level of functioning if you must know. all movement ceases and i just AM. i've made the need for movement redundant. i think therefore i am dude. so i can just BE you know?  no need for frantically darting around all over the bowl man. it's like unnecessary.

oh i see. like when i meditate.

no, not like when YOU meditate. because when you 'meditate' you're watching TV and that's just not how it's done man.
WHOAH! Holy Mothers Salacia and Anphratite!

who frank?

Goddesses of the sea man. WHAT WAS THAT? an earthquake?

oh sorry frank, i was just adjusting your bamboo shoot, it had sort of come unlodged from the stones at the bottom. they hold it up.

Dude! let me know when you're going to do that next time, it freaked me out. i felt the earth move man.

did you frank? you know, you looked quite spetacular when you did that loop de loop so suddenly, and you got round that bowl 3 times in as many seconds. very impressive.

d'you do that on purpose?

on  "porpoise" frank?

you're doing "air quotes" now?
Holy Neptune, that extra hour of sleep didn't do nuthin' for your comedic talents there dude.

frank takes charge

hey frank
hey. how YOU doin'?
ok, you?
oh, you know.
who's posting on the blog today frank? me or you?
well i guess i can do it, iffen you want.
suits me, i'm busy playing scrabble o...
on facebook?
on facebook, yeah. i've got four games going at...
at once?
yeah at once. i'm getting ..
addicted?
yeah, i'm getting addicted. but my scores are..
dreadful?
yeah dreadful. i get my ass kicked ....
regularly?
yeah regularly. frank? er do you mind not....
finishing your sentences?
yeah, finishing my sentences. it can be..
annoying?
yeah annoying frank. what's with ...
with that?
yeah, what's with that?
i dunno it's just that i'm so much on your wavelength i kinda know what you're going to say before you even say it.,
you're like ...
sympatico with you?
yeah frank you and me, we're sympatico. but frank, that's weird because i'm not actually .....
saying anything?
yeah, saying anything. i'm only thinking these things and you're on my ....
on your wavelength?
yeah, my wavelength how'd you .....
how'd i do that?
yeah, frank what is this, how'd you do it?
i dunno, it's a gift. i'm psychic. i'm like the seventh son of the seventh son or somethin'. i'd explain it, but mind that time i tried tellin' you whut the fibinacci sequence was all about?
oh right the fibonacci ....
sequence yeah. remember The Rule is x_n = x_n-1 + x_n-2
er yeah, i do frank. my brain still hurts thinking about that.  it's really just...
amazing?
yeah frank it's pretty amazing. you're psychic frank?you're a fish. a psychic....
a psychic fish?  i know. it's just how i am. allus been that way man as longus i can 'member. it's what i'm known fur.
where are you.....
where am i known for it?
yeah. where frank?
oh in former circles that i swam in.
really?
yeah i'm psychic and i'm also gifted with telepathy.
frank, how's that .....
possible?
yeah how's that happen?
i'm not sure but it's not only a gift it's a curse, let me tell ya.
but since i been here it's kinda come in handy cos we can communicate without you lookin' crazy.
frank why would i look....
why'd you look crazy?
yeah. why?
cos iffen you was talkin' to a fish out loud people would think you wus crazy. know what i'm sayin'?
oh i see. well it's a good job that it's only the two....
the two of us that know about this?
yeah frank. it's just the two of us.
yeah. it's probly best that way.
so.......
so i hear the scrabble tiles rattling. you got the post for today then frank?
yeah sure no problem. i got it.
good frank.
i jes done it while we wus talkin'.
frank you are a ..
genius?
yeah frank you are a genius.
yeah it's a curse man.

Frank's Rebuttal

hey.
frank here.
the beta fish, siamese fightin' fish? whatever you wanna call me.
i ain't that fussy to be honest man.
how YOU doin?
okay technically the real name's goldy but man, i just can't bring myself to answer to that.
that aint no kinda name for a fish.
unless you're a goldfish.
which i'm not.
yesterday she wrote a post about me.
i suppose she thought i'd be grateful.
seriously?
life's been hard enough without this unwanted publicity.
it's going to be like living in a goldfish bowl.
what?
oh.
right.

thought i'd give you the gen on living up here on the kitchen table from MY perspective.
seems fair?
first off, i ain't bored.
just so's you know,
i live a full, varied and extremely interesting life i'll have you know.
and i don't need no company thank you very glad.

truth is, before i came here i lived on a shelf in Petsmart for a while.
i lived with a couple of other guys in a 12 by 8 and things got kinda heated after a while,
it's just the nature of the beast man.
think it was about a dame or something, and the one guy, he's all fired up at me with rage, or jealousy, or something,
because all of a sudden, he just comes at me, all fins blazing and stuff and he sorta leaped in the air and before i could even react he'd sorta misjudged his, well his reach,  and well, he missed me and landed right outside the bowl.
we had to watch him heave and pant and thrash around on the shelf for a coupla minutes.
that wasn't pretty.
then this other guy who lived in there with us.
i never really knew him that well i gotta be honest with you.
he was like the 'friend' of the crazy guy.
(that's what they called themselves anyway, 'friends')
whatever.
live and let live i say, not my business.

so, he was like the friend of the one that jumped over the edge, well all of a sudden he comes at me next in a mad fit of revenge or something.
he's got like his fins up and his eyes are just staring like all popped out man, and he's all like 'da-da da- da DA-DA-DA', you know like the music from that movie, 'sharks'?
yeah, he was even singing that as he came at me.

well i waited till he got in real close,
i was like, bring it brother, you wanna piece o' me?
but i didn't say anything i just leaned back and looked right at him,
not backing down or moving or nothin',
and just when he thought he was going to butt me or whatever he thought he was going to do,
that's when i used the element of surprise.

i'm fast man, he underestimated my speed.
that's a big mistake.
stupid mistake in fact.
i just, BAM! right up in HIS face
and i bit him.
bit his head nearly right off.
hey, it was self defense right.

after that, they brought in a net to scoop him outa there and i just retreated to the rear of the tank, and swum low like, near the bottom.
it was like, respect man, you know?
you gotta respect a dude that just goes all out like that,
even when it doesn't work in his favour,
but hey the guy went for it man.
so,
it was just me for a coupla hours.
then they came and put this female in with me.
she was all like glamorous and all and i admit at first i was like, 'whoa'.
but i guess she'd kinda heard about my rep and stuff, it got around in there,
and she wouldn't have nothin' to do with me.
whatever right?

think she was like a friend or relative of one of them other 2 guys, not sure.
hey, she wasn't even my type anyway.
i wasn't even that bothered to be truthful with ya.

so it was kinda cool in there.
atmosphere wise.
guess she thought i'd make a play for her at some point, but man, i'm just not into the drama you know?
all that aggression and violence, it'd just left me cold, you know?
so,
we hung out in separate shells.
well actually she was in a diving bell and i sort of stayed behind a giant snail.
not a real snail but good camouflage anyway.
we never really did hit it off tho' who knows, if things had've been different?
and then she got her eye on another dude and well she used to just stare at him in his tank all day.

but it got to me, you know?
i'm only human.
what?
oh.
okay i'm not human but i'm only ....
actually, what am i?
i don't even know.
but the thing is, i ain't unhappy.
i'm content now.
i got what i want right here.
i got my own place.
a nice bowl man, right here on the kitchen table.
ain't nobody gettin' up in my face or making moves, you know what' i'm sayin?
two squares a day and all found.
and no hassles man.
i got my own bamboo stalk in here, gives off aeration or oxygen or something cool like that,
scientific like and everything.
and i got my own blue stones in the bottom of the pad.
i got a turtle thing that's kinda relaxing to look at.
he aint real but then he don't eat any meat either, you know what i'm sayin'?
i got this huge (fake) fish with a big mouth.
i don't actually do anything with him.
i don't hide out inside him or anything like that, but that's what he's for.
i know that.
i'm just not into that sorta thing.
hiding out's not really my thing.
i'm out there, you know?
i'm a loner really.
it's just the way i am man.
i been around the block, know what i'm sayin'?
i feel like it's just best now if  i'm on my own.
so,
okay,
just pay me no never mind y'know what i'm sayin'?
don't pity me okay.
i'm doing good.
it's all good.

you have yourself a nice day now, y' hear?