Babies

Luke and I have been talking for a while about having kids. Ever since we got married, the question has been brought up, nou just by us but by friends, by family. I don't really know what I think. Part of me is desperate to have a child. I see their fat cheeks, their long eyelashes, their soft hugs, and that's all I want. Not to mention the fact that if I had one, I wouldn't have to work for ages. And I'd get loads of attention. The right kind of attention. But another part of me can't deal with having kids

Bleurgh

Went out with a friend last night; yes, I would have preferred to sit on the sofa, but I am trying to do things differently. That's the point.

It was actually a lot of fun. I thought we wouldn't have much to talk about, but we chatted all night. I think the wine helped. I now feel horrendous.

The only thing worse than my job is my job with a hangover - literally the only thing stopping me killing everyone in here today is the amount of energy I would need to expend to do so.

Off to my parents house in the deepest darkest middle of nowhere for Easter weekend. Expect gin and tonics, arguments, and smoking out of the bathroom window a la Bridget Jones.

Back on Tuesday folks....

Nothin' Sweet About Bee....

Sorry...that title's been scratching at my head for ages, had to come out eventually. Which is particularly annoying since the song that inspired it is one of the most inane, annoying songs of the year. But it's done now.

Luke is always telling me how sweet I am. I suspect this is largely because I am so small. I also have a tendency to become quite childish when not getting my own way - fortunately for me this makes him laugh, and not strangle me with my own hair.

However, there is a difference between being superficially sweet - pink Tshirts, blonde hair, pouty lips - and being properly sweet. Sweet on the inside. That is definitely not me.

There follows a list of things that are definitely not "Sweet about Bee". Try not to judge me.

1. I am the most selfish person you will ever meet. I rarely do anything for altruistic reasons; I never give money to charity, I rarely put money into the envelope for leaving presents at work, I don't bother spending time with people unless absolutely necessary. I prefer my own company - I don't judge myself.
   
   
2. I never phone anyone. I never call my mum, or my dad; I absolutely never call friends for a chat. More often than not, if someone is calling me 'just for a chat' and for no specific purpose, I will reject the call.
   
   
3. I am a kleptomaniac. I steal things because I can. Usually, things I don't even want, or need - a mascara from a bathroom at a party, a cheap Topshop bracelet from a friend's bedroom. Nothing high value - that's not the point - it's more a sense of entitlement. Why should they have what I don't. Never mind that I could easily go out and buy it for myself.
   
   
4. I have cheated on every partner I have ever been with. Except Luke. I plan to keep it that way, but it's not a very good record.
   
   
5. I am incredibly lazy. I read about all these women that want to further their career, do something to improve the world - or at least their world - and all I want to do is sleep, go on holidays, drink cocktails. I couldn't give a monkeys about my job - or any other job.
   

I could go on, but I think the picture is becoming clear. Ok, so I'm an obnoxious, horrible, lazy slob. And your point is...?

(Oh, and in a happy footnote, it seems you can ignore my last post because the lovely Mimi appears to be writing again...thank god for indecisiveness.)

Mimi

One of the reasons I started blogging was that I've read some amazing blogs over the years. I know that mine is relatively crap compared to most of them, but they still inspired me to write my thoughts down, to chronicle what is happening in the world of me.

So I was very sad to note at the weekend that one of the blogs I devoured the most hungrily, the wonderful Mimi in New York, appears to be no more.

I actually met Ruth, Mimi's creator, about a hundred years ago when staying with friends in a little corner of Wales. She terrified me. Skinny, quick, beautiful and vicious. I was completely in awe - and don't think I said more than about five words to her in the whole two weeks I was there.

When I began reading Mimi, I had no idea that this was the same girl. Mimi was an amazing character - she had done so much and seen so much in her life. It was only when the blog's popularity grew, and Ruth unmasked herself in a series of interviews and photos, that I realised she was the same girl. I nearly fell off my chair. Since then I have read even more avidly, checking every day for an update into this exciting life that I could only dream of, but that had happened to someone so unlikely.

And now, Ruth appears to have stopped. It's such a shame, although I understand why she's done it. I hope that one day soon she finds a reason to start again.

I'll just have to content myself with her book for the time being...