Thursday, 24 March 2016

Claustrophobic shirt scythe bunny

I have left this far too late, it is past my bedtime.


Bulletin (school report) day, followed by Parents' Evening (ugh, ugh), hence lateness. If I were the GIF type there would be one here of eg. Carrie screaming or Death scything around or something. SOMETHING BAD.

I spent €35,64 sending my son his pyjamas express overnight delivery to Switzerland. Now he is back, he tells me he received them 8 days later. Eight days! DAMN YOU SWITZERLAND, where is your fabled efficiency now? I admit it is more likely to be down to my old friends at BastardPost but my rage is indiscriminate.

I cannot find a quote from Bernard Henri Lévy's wife Arielle Dombasle about how he always has his shirt so extravagantly unbuttoned because he is "claustrophobic", even though I am sure she said this. I have wasted a significant amount of time on this googling variations on "open shirt" "phobia" "claustrophobic" in two languages.

M has gone on holiday for a week and though I am very happy for her I am sad for MYSELF, because a day with no gchat complaining is a wasted day. Due to M my current gmail status reads "yellow penis travesty", which is extremely professional.

I have not dealt with Easter in any way whatsoever. I mean, sure, you can get chocolate eggs in this country, but what kind? I do not hold with quality chocolate as I have made clear over many years. Also, I have run out of hot cross buns, which is a bad scene on Good Friday Eve. I might have to brave the entirely fucked up "normal service" trams tomorrow for an emergency M&S trip.

Eyeball has gone red and disgusting, I suspect from squinting at terror liveblog for 48 hours.


Smaller child is back! Apparently it was not always like prison and he has managed not to get sunburnt unlike several of his classmates who I saw getting off the bus and actually gasped at. It is nice to have him back, it was too quiet without him and no one else in this house gives a shit about owl babies.

Line of Duty

Small medicinal martini, knocked back in approx 45 seconds.

Got lost so many times in giant secondary gulag tonight that I have far exceeded any necessary "step count" for the day.

I made an excellent "do you think we're made of bunnies" joke today about the ridiculous Gchat animations that pop up in your chat window if you type "happy easter". It fell on entirely deaf ears because M hates puns, but I was pleased.

Saw a picture of my final actual book today, can your eagle eyes see the cover quote? It made me so happy I nearly exploded.

I know what happened with the whole police incident next door, finally. It was quite grisly, but no one is dead.


40% Genuine parenting ??????? moment
20% Gin lust
20% Aromatherapy Associates Deep Relax
10% Unimaginative percentages
10% Bedtime



Alan said...

Wow! a testimonial from the Stibbster, you have arrived.

frau antje said...

33% Will be in a place described as unlike hell as a place could be, before the christian holidays peter out, like a yellow penis. Et tu, newyorker? I expect this sloppy drivel from the huffington post.
33% Bio of writer I always assumed was British. Bought with confidence, before I opened it in the middle to something about smuggling pet snails into France in 1967 under her breasts (which the photographs make clear could hardly be considered snail-covering). Guess this is it until late April.
33% Reading letters home from my late twenties, before I shred them. I remember it all, just don't know why it didn't stay in my head, or as first common law spouse once said, "You told them THE TRUTH?!"
1% Heart rate of a hamster holding steady. Who needs a step count? Or eagle eyes? Or neck feathers that ruffle in the dark?

Jane Murray Bird said...

Well excited about my first hot cross bun of the year, impending. And it's an M&S St. Clements one which, I realise, will make purists weep. I may even apply peanut butter to the upper half (never the lower...some things are sacred.)

Waffle said...

Jane - WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU (though props for having your first HCB on actual Good Friday)

Anonymous said...

School report days in Belgium are, I think, designed to induce parental misery.

That is all.

Waffle said...

Anon - This is very true. I hate it with the heat of a thousand suns.

Anonymous said...

School reports and parents' evening all in the same day? With no cool-off period for teachers or families to realise that the grades and possibly mean-spirited comments by the teachers are not the sum of the child's progress and potential? Sounds like a recipe for misery alright.
At my daughter's school there's a week with no school immediately after the mid-year reports are issued and then a couple of weeks of class before teachers and parents meet, which gives everyone time to get a bit of perspective. Hard to know which approach is best. Summer report is trickier though because you're left with it for the whole summer and then there's a new set of teachers in September. I'll never forget a particularly b*tchy teacher that seemed to delight in writing lengthy reports about psychological/ learning issues she believed the children had (never a word about any difficulties during the year, it was all smiles any time anyone dared to talk to her about their kids), sending families into a tailspin all summer as they tried to confirm/ disprove her ominous warnings. Luckily some parents ended up comparing notes and we realised that almost every child had been graced with her pseudo-diagnoses. Many complaints were made and everyone was glad to have their kids out of her clutches the following year. Disclaimer: this is of course obviously an exception and I know most teachers are committed to what they do and wish the best for the kids.

Anonymous said...

Film recommendation (suitable for young Waffles as well): well-made, funny and hugely enjoyable, as well as being a timely reminder that immigrants all have their stories and can make wonderful contributions to their host countries:
Nous trois ou rien

Dale said...

Reading you has always made me laugh and cry.

Rosie Redfield said...

Vancouver bakeries have begun putting chocolate chips in the hot cross buns instead of the usual nasty-tasting 'fruit' bits. This is disgusting - the fruit bits flavour is essential for the true toasted hot cross bun experience.

Alanna said...

Just wasted more time than I care to admit trying to find that shirt quote.

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