Say what?

Actual conversation between H and I this morning.
( what was actually said)
H. " Did you want me to fix dinner tonight?"
"Well, it's all right there, there's ribs, baked potatoes and salad in the fridge, just needs cooking"
" I can do that.....leave it to me"
5pm. I see in the kitchen, extra cucumber, more tomatoes.
" H... are you going to get those ribs on?"
Look of stunned surprise on H's face.
It would seem the conversation H thought we had this morning went like this...
" Did you want me to fix dinner tonight?"
" Bleh blah salad blah bleh cook"
He went to the store...hmmmm, she said salad, must need some .. will buy some.
Huh! 5pm when is she going to cook the ribs and prepare that stuff she made me buy?

Ever get the feeling you're in a world not your own?

Sophie stripped her hair last night, hoorah, black hair gone, recoloured it a nice copper sort of colour.
Seemed happy last night...was screaming banshee this morning
"MY HAIR IS ORANGE ORANGE....how can I go out with ORANGE HAIR???? It was, of course, my fault. I have stopped asking why or how that is, just sort of humming to my self and hoping that somehow things get better soon. SOON. Let's not talk about what is happening Sophie. Let's not.

Isaac had a mini field trip today, the sun has been shining for TWO days, glory be it is like a rebirth of joy, his class went to the park. Apparantly, to the enormous joy of his teacher, when they got back he said ( loudly even) "ANNIE!" ( his classroom assistant who he adores) " I had a FANTASTIT time at the park." Anne ( touching that he calls her Annie and he is adamant that only HE calls her that!) and his teacher are a bit in love with my Isaac. He didn't feel he wanted to do the writing about it though....ha, those big old brown eyes work for him every time, his teacher smiled and said ' maybe tomorrow'. Sucker.

I'm in a fog right now. Some of it my own doing and most of it not. I don't think I'm depressed again, just weary and frustrated at the helplessness of being me.
I like being in control, thrive on it even, this particular crapola of living isn't up to me. I am hostage to fate...and other people. I can't tell you how much I hate that.
I am responsible for the misery I feel about myself though. Not that I am able to do anything about it as my head is quite firmly entrenched in a punishing frame of mind. The more miserable I feel and let's be honest, I am really miserable, hidingly, cringingly, curl up and give in sort of miserable, the more the need to punish and feed that hateful feeling. This is all due to the feeling of being so out of control.
I know that there has to be a way to drag myself out of this. It is like being trapped behind a glass door, everything good is visible but I am just incapable of getting to it. It's hard being in this head, even harder being in this body.
The sunshine helps, a bit, nice to feel fresh air without stinging rain, great to have windows open and little boys playing outside.
What isn't so great are the sights we see.
2 days of sun and oh my, the things you see when you haven't got your gun!
God bless the English, such is their fear that this sun may be IT, the only sun we see all year that as soon as a feeble ray shows it's face through those clouds. OFF COME THE CLOTHES! Strip off, flash the flesh. Not an ounce of shame to be had outside that school today. Not every parent you understand, at least I don't think so....who can tell ? My eyes were so hideously fixed on this one woman I have no idea what everyone or anyone else was wearing or doing. Yesterday she wore a pink spaghetti strap top, today it was a black one. No bra.Pert little boobies, yes. Pendulous bazookas, please not. It is not a good look. Throw in some tattoos and a cigarette.......well why do I worry? Part of me envies such a devil may care attitude, how wonderful to be able to throw all caution to the wind and just wear what you like but is that fair to the rest of the population? As P.C as I long to be ( which isn't at all really because honestly, the world has gone insane since P.C was invented) there is no denying that some clothes really should be kept for smaller people.
Skimpy tops with no bra, in my opinion, come into this category. As do low rise jeans and shorts. Shorts all gathered up between thunder thighs are not attractive. Wobbly guts hanging over the top of jeans with a crop top and no bra make me want to gouge my eyes out with a bendy fork.
I always agree with the saying " just because they make it in your size, doesn't mean you can wear it!" Big women can look fabulous, some of them...can't seem to do it myself, but I see many BIG women who just ooze gorgeousness. I am in awe of them. Confidence has everything to do with it, class too and great clothes. You could take me to a top class place and dress me in the finest clothes and I would still look like a sack of spuds because I have no confidence, not a shred. I slump and frown and have that 'ooh please don't look at me, not worthy ' attitude. In photos I look like the mad aunt, usually hidden in an attic but allowed out once a year. Supervised. I am never going to believe that I can look big and beautiful. Not me.

Oh, let me clear something up. I am not stopping this blog, what I meant in the last post was that if I were to start a new blog, one where I could go back to telling all because no-one knew about it ...it wouldn't last long. I crave the comments I get, knowing people read this makes me love doing it. This one is for keeps, I just said that there wouldn't be much point in a private blog for me, as I said, I am a tart.