Tuesday, 19 January 2010


I was mysteriously cheerful yesterday for the worst day of the year, as arbitrarily determined with pretend equations. The dog (when I write 'the dog', I have a clear vision of the the skool dog wearily trailing a string of skool sossidges behind it in Molesworth:

though in fact he has none of that world-weariness)

ate a packet of Kalgon tablets, or at least shredded them finely, scenting the house with a sort of tangy citrus urinal scent. Something lives longer with Kalgon.. Something starting with a W... Perhaps he was just testing. I found myself thinking of that Gary Larson cartoon where the scientists are testing various substances on a duck's back. Anyone? No? Well it's a group of scientists testing what substance runs off a duck's back (acid/milk/juice). Ok, shut up Emma.

My head is entirely empty at the moment, a whistling, empty mass of nothing. It's not specially unpleasant, but it's not conducive to blogging. Usually something to write presents itself in my head at some point during the day. Often on the tram. I wonder if it's because I've taken to listening to music on the tram? Maybe I need the ambient weirdness of the 92 tram to seep into my brain rather than listening to jangly guitars at a million decibels? I'm listening to the new Vampire Weekend album on a constant loop, alternating with M.I.A and The Jam and various Songs Of My Youth Mainly On Rough Trade. I've never done the ipod thing before (I'm not just a late adopter, I'm positively nineteenth century), so I am behaving like a caveperson, marvelling open-mouthed at fire. I think I might have to discipline myself to tune into the burbling lunatics of South Brussels again, since they are obviously my inspiration.

In the absence of more edifying things, I can tell you the following gurly rubbish, chiz chiz chiz:

1. I love my Nars Aigle Noir pencil. It's a big fat silvery grey soft eye pencil and it's called BLACK EAGLE. It's fierce. Ok, it's not actually proper fierce. It's make up, but I like it.

2. I have had to reconsider my position on Elle Macpherson. Well, her underwear, I still can't imagine she'd be up for Spread Eagle on Fossgate on Friday lunchtime for 23 G and Ts and a plate of chips. But! She does quite a good size range now, and I quite like my new bra, from Liberty sale. I wore it for the first time yesterday and it's buxom, but not matronly. Whereas today's Mimi Holliday, whilst very cute, is so uncomfortable I was fantasising about discreetly taking it off through my sleeve by around 3pm and maybe burning it discreetly in the wastepaper basket, doused in photocopier toner. Oh, you see, THIS is one of the reasons I am so stilted at the moment. My finger is hovering over delete. It's not just the lack of tram banter. I know so many people who are reading this now. People I actually see in real life. (Hi, Dad). It's terribly inhibiting. But equally, one of the things I liked about this blog was saying the things I didn't say out loud. I mean, come on. I used to write things like this! And this! And it was more fun, I think. I want to get back to not giving a shit what I write about but that seems oddly hard. Eh. Answers on a postcard.

3. Doctor Kevorkian Jr has given me these ridiculous shots of drinkable collagen for my knee. I was initially very excited about them, and kept expecting to wake up look dewy and pre-pubescent. No. I am still dried out, like an old, shedded snake skin. My knee still hates me. Fuck. I have got some new Lancôme serum recommended by lovely-Sali-who-knows-all-about-girl-stuff. I fully expect to wake up looking like a freshly hatched baby capybara tomorrow. No, maybe not quite so hairy and disapproving. Something smoother. An egg, perhaps?

4. I am reading this, this, this and this. I can't settle to any of them, even though I can tell that at any less brain-fevered time, I would have devoured each of them in half a day. I think I have moths in the brain. Maybe I should try eating Kalgon tablets?

I don't even know how to finish a post anymore. Maybe I just stop?

Ps: needless to say, no fucker has paid me to plug their products here, or even given me the teeniest free sample. I NEVER. EVER. get free stuff. Sob.


hairyfarmerfamily said...

Inhibited is Oh, so correct. I sympathise. My parents and my son's nursery staff recently found my blog through a concatenation of stupidity (mine), bad luck (mine) and alarmingly good web detective work (parents'); it's pissed on my poor little bloggy chips no end. I am dying to share that Hubby & I have Fallen Out Again and that my (ahem) gynae surgery date is OMFG, only a fortnight off, but... but... sigh. Inhibited.

Em said...

Please keep posting! You can't stop now. I've just discovered you and when I'm "working" I'm reading back through your wonderful waffles and plus through you I found Tired Dad and someone else who made me laugh out loud... I'm going totally incognito right now though (using the old middle name trick) - got a lot of stuff to get off my insubstantial chest.

Margaret said...

"discreetly taking it off through my sleeve" This is my husband's favorite trick! It's never part of foreplay, though, just something I occasionally do when we're watching "How It's Made." I always start with "Want to see a trick?" and end with "Ta-DA!"

I also had a cheerful Worst Day of the Year, but today was fucking horrible.

Shortly, I will e-mail you with some interesting information.

Anonymous said...

Dear Ms. Waffle:

Pray tell, what is Kalgon, please enlighten your US readers. Is it the same as the Calgon with a C that we have on this side of the pond, which is smelly, old-lady-favored bath salts?

I must concur, don't give up now! I live for the Secular Confessional. Plus I live vicariously when you indulge your Bonne Maman cravings. Don't I wish we could get those biscuits and puddings on this side of the pond. Sadly, we can only get an abbreviated selection of Bonne Mamman jams.

Keep up the good work all around. Or not. Or whatever.

the polish chick said...

the day my mother finds my blog is the day i stop writing. as it is, i have removed all traces of moi-ness from my blogature, to prevent just such a thing from happening. with a master's degree in educational psychology under her belt, she still completely fails to understand why i would wish to keep such a thing secret and thinks it is a failure of my love for her.

already some people read my blog about whom i would occasionally like to vent and cannot. sigh, such is life.

redfox said...

(a) The notion of drinkable collagen got me very excited as well. Maybe its youth-dew qualities will kick in tomorrow. I have become weirdly, strongly fascinated with all manner of drinkable products that claim to debloat and detoxify, a fascination all the stronger because I cannot indulge it in my current delicate condition. I want to ingest magic potions, I do, I do.

(b) My mother reads my weblog. I should not really find this inhibiting (I was already far too inhibited as it was) but I do. I hope I will get over it soon.

(c) WV: mencurse!

Vic said...

I have the same company emailing every month, begging me to accept a titanium rock-climber's wedding ring in exchange for a link. Odd.

I'll send you their address if you want. Not sure if you have to actually climb something to get the ring, though.

(Why is Vampire Weekend so beguiling? I hear them in my head all day...)

Jane said...

There is nothing worse than REAL people that you encounter in everyday life reading your blog. Now that my parents and everyone I know that works in the British fashion industry and my whole office reads our blog, I feel I can no longer vent my frustrations through my ramblings, as people will think it's all about them, as they invariably do. My husband however never ever reads it, and thinks its man hating, feminist blog where we rant on about how much we hate our husbands. Now there's an idea!!

fourstar said...

My parents know I write a blog and I went through a few months of "Oh." about that. Then I carried on (but with more swearing) just because you should.

As far as I know, my Mum still reads it, but as it's (currently) mostly about obscure dubstep, geeky puns and whether Arsenal will ever stop being injured long enough to win anything, she's more interested in my wife's one about our children. Go figure.

Actually perhaps that's the way forward - set up another, anonymous, diversionary blog on a subject which ticks all their boxes, accidentally send them the link and they'll leave yours alone for a bit. No?

As for underwear, Myla all the way (no, not for me...) Maybe you can get them to send you some?

P.S. I'll happily go to the Spread Eagle with you, although last time I'm sure it was serving Thai food...

Jaywalker said...

Fourstar No WAY. The stabber? Thai food? This is a disturbing development. I will try not to find you recommending underwear suppliers odd. After all I started it. I don't think they go far enough down the alphabet for me, anyway.

Jane - Are you The Women's Room? I rather love you.

Vic- YES. I want a rockclimbers wedding ring. Send it through.

Redfox - I will keep you informed on dewiness developments. When is the redfoxcub coming? I am getting inappropriately excited.

Polish Chick - SIgh indeed. There is gchat for those purposes. We need to resume ours, I was telling you Important Things.

Dear Anon - It is limescale remover. I think it might be spelled with a C in the UK too. I don't think it is very good for dogs. And no, I absolutely won't give up, I just need to get some balls and a bit of insouciance back.

Margaret - I love that. Sometimes the temptation is just too great. Itchy lace. PAH.

Em - Ah, thank you, I promise I will. I just feel I'm in a bit of a boring phase. Hopefully it will pass.

HFF - You do password protection don't you? But I can imagine that creates as many problems as it solves...

indigo16 said...

Sorry, but I am still reeling from the fact that you drank G&T in the Spread Eagle, they must have had to dust off a bottle stolen from next doors octogenarian neighbour.
It was always 'merrydown on under the table' for me.
That bra trick always bit me in the arse when my father eyebrows raised, retrieved it from behind the sofa following a night in with my boyfriend!

Léonie said...

I know what you mean about the inhibited thing. I wanted to write about all sorts of things but always stopped. My mother always pretends she doesn't read my blog, but always brings things up in conversation that she definitely couldn't otherwise know. It bothers me, and it's why I haven't been blogging.

Do you remember the bit in Crocodile Dundee where she takes her bra off, unhooking it at the back but not unlooping one of her arms? I always wondered how she did that.

Sabine said...

1. What’s happening??? I also had some very empty minded days and have to admit I immediately start worrying: ‘Will I always be like this now? An empty, tired brain preferring to watch TV (I hardly knew this still existed) instead of communicating with the virtual world?’. 2. Wouldn’t know how to use an ipod, either (I’m so challenged by the few technologies I have to manage I can’t cram my mind with anything else). 3. Women should blog about their underwear; it’s so ESSENTIAL. I’m serious. 4. I’m impressed by your (involuntary) high ethics to not plug products… 5. Non of my friends/family reads my blog (I think) and I don't know if I'm happy or disappointed by this. But I can't write in German - just can't! Sabine x

Anonymous said...

So what you need to do is create a code. 'I had to wait 10 minutes in the dentist's waiting room' will actually mean 'Urgent! Three iron cast alibis needed for 10pm last night.'

I need to know what interesting thing Margaret is going to email. Does it involve kidnap?

Ah serum. How I hate thee. I do not look 18. I do not even look 28. And I hate thee too JW, for having the complexion of a baby yet claiming snake skin properties. It makes us real real snake people wish to push you off a high building.

We took MIL to les Braseries Georges (I know you're wincing at my spelling). It's fair to say it was not a success and we may be banned. The amusing choose your own fat option did not go down well.


Completely Alienne said...

I have been brain dead for the last couple of weeks but no one else seems to have noticed yet. Hmmm..

The only people I know who read my blog are my elder daughter and the only other blogger I have ever met - so I have no inhibition problems (I don't write about the latter and who cares what their children think of them?) My mother does not have an internet connection. See, there are advantages to being old. It means your parents are antediluvian.

Anonymous said...

I will join the chorus: keep writing; we're hooked. Also, I'm pretty sure your readers would send you all kinds of free stuff, should you ask.
Finally, having accumulated cookie cooking set, and read several books, based on your blog (and via BW, India's), I am grateful for the new titles - other than Flying Troutmans, they are all new to me. Try the Provincial Lady books - and imagine them as blog entries!
If nothing else comes to mind, there's always your veg box (if you're still getting it).

theharridan said...

here is some random elle macpherson stuff.
1) in nz, where her bendon lingerie is made, there are little factory shops in obscure places and you get her stuff for cheaply cheaply prices. everyone wears elle macpherson underwear, even the farmers and the poor street kids, i swear. coming to blighty, i was SHOCKED and DISMAYED to see the prices. England: you are being ripped off BigTime. yes it is nice, but someone is getting lots of profit margin. tut
2) my husband thought Elle magazine was hers, until today, when i shattered that illusion
3) once she was in the bowling alley next to us with her chilluns and she was so purdy i nearly dropped the bowling ball on mine foot. tonged hair of loveliness
4) husband is doing some work on her property. but he forgot to go do it yesterday. I wouldn't forget.

fourstar said...

@theharridan: We're used to it here, everything is a rip off. That said, it's a long way from NZ by boat :)

Margaret said...

Hmm, I thought the whole point of being Elle Mcpherson is that straight men never forget to do things for you.

theharridan said...

double hmmmmm i shall ponder that one a little more deeply......

redfox said...

There is still a good month+ left. It turns out that gestation goes on for quite some time. Curious! I like "redfoxcub," which makes me think wistfully: if only human infants were as instantly sleek and adorable (and self-sufficient) as some other baby animals I could name. Slackers.

hairyfarmerfamily said...

@jaywalker I ultimately decided password protection was the sissy's way out, and that I either had to grow the stones to say it, or just keep quiet.

Naturally, I have not yet transmuted this fine, noble, upstanding decision into UNlocking the 95% of my posts that I knee-jerked into password protection.

@fourstar It's a long way from NZ by spaceship! :)

bonnie-ann black said...

alienne: i'm reading your blog faithfully, checking in every few days for the latest post... i do get concerned when the long gaps set in, but don't like to bug a blogger. (but a Bug-a-Blogger You Like Day might be appropriate for all those wondering if anyone has noticed that they haven't been blogging... er, where was i going with that? oh yes).

Emma: you are not allowed to stop blogging though i rather miss the "take no prisoner" blog entries of yesteryear (last march?)

Lisa-Marie said...

My head no has the Kalgon jingle lodged in it. And I can't sleep, and I have to get up at 5am tomorrow (it is 10.40). Bleh!

Also, I think you should just write what you want. Perhaps have some wine before you write? I find it uninhibiting!