And lo the bathroom was complete

Monday night marked a significant event in our household. Operation bathroom came to an end, at last. It all started in the summer when we came home from a mini adventure across the country to discover our upstairs neighbour had had a bath (it transpired he'd bathed his dog, even worse) which had drenched our bathroom. The trap was loose, he fixed it, he said.... The leak continued sporadically but still he claimed he'd fixed it, his intonation suggested we were imaging the water dripping through the ceiling, the water behind the tiles, the thick black mould on the wall, the ceiling so wet that Mr T accidentally poked his finger through it . According to our insurance company because he told us he'd fixed it we couldn't claim from his insurance, he "hadn't technically been negligent", the fact we were suffering from the consequential damage meant nothing, it wasn't his fault, apparently - something I am still annoyed about. Incidentally, in November he did finally fix what turned out to be a leaking bath tap, not a loose trap as he claimed. So he hadn't even bothered to fix it properly months before, despite his protestations that he had sorted it.

Anyway, there followed some months of bickering with the insurance company. We got quotes, the quotes were too high, £1,400 was more than they were willing to pay, we argued and argued, they asked the builder to reduce his price by £600, funnily enough he said no. Then there was a third party, who we could pay our excess to, they'd fix only the damaged area and charge the insurance company £700, or the other option was to take a payment from the third party of £950 less our excess and we could do the work ourselves.

So, we could have half a job done for £250, or we could have £700. After a Sunday afternoon pricing up tiles, plasterboard, plaster and various other bits in B&Q we decided to do the job ourselves. It couldn't be that hard, surely? Just a bit of plasterboard and some tiles, nothing too major..... WRONG. It took six weeks, we forgot to take christmas and the small matter of our jobs into consideration. It has been a long hard slog, weeks without a shower was the worst part, I hate baths, they make me panicked. I feel uncomfortable sitting in my own filth. The first shower since December was the cleanest I have ever felt in my life, I felt like I was in a hotel, utter luxury.

There have been arguments along the way, tile spacing, light positions, cupboard positions but we got through it and I have to say Mr T has done a most excellent job, it looks brilliant. He thought we'd have to call in Nick Knowles and his DIY SOS crew at one point, but I had faith in him, I knew he'd manage it. I even had a go at tiling, that's my big achievement, nothing compared to what Mr T has done but still, I tried to help.

We'll sweep aside the incident when I leant on the newly glossed door frame in one of Mr T's hoodys and when I got paint on the window frame. I wasn't a great help, I wish I could've been more use but really I'd have been more of a hinderance, this week I punched myself in the chest while pulling my sleeves up, I'm too inept for DIY.

In saying all of this, I don't know what I find more exciting, the luxury of a fully functioning, decorated bathroom or that Mr T no longer looks like Mr Twit and his beard is no longer visible from behind, in fact, he looks rather handsome now he's finally been able to trim his beard in the bathroom mirror.

Here's some pictures, sadly you can't see my ill advised purchase of a leopard print shower curtain, but still, what you can see is the result of 6 long weeks

The first picture is the underside of the damaged ceiling, who knows how long we'd actually been living with such horrendous mould, in fact, I don't really want to think about it.

Doubling Up

Another wedding based blog, sorry but it's pretty much all I am able to think/talk/stress about, that and a big birthday coming up for Mr T which may well bankrupt me but more of that another time.

I have something on my mind; the concept of not taking Mr T's name. We haven't broached this subject with his parents yet and maybe this is why I am blogging about it, maybe I am trying to get my argument straight just in case there's unrest about it. You see, I'm from a very complicated family with step parents and half siblings all over the place but in this instance I am thinking about the family I grew up with, my Father, Stepmother and my brother. Until last week, when she remarried, only my Stepmother, brother and I shared my Father's surname, if I take Mr T's, I lose that and I just don't want to. I have little left of my father, I don't know where his ashes are, I don't know what happened to any of his possessions, all I have are memories and photographs and, at the moment, his name.I have nothing against Mr T's family and I desparately hope they don't take offence at my choice, Mr T hasn't taken offence, he doesn't care either way, I can't help but worry his parents won't share this view and that his Grandfather won't understand. For me this marriage is about Mr T and I joining together, double barrelling my name seems like the sensible, albeit creating quite a mouthful when saying my full name, option to me. Even my Stepmother has doublebarrelled for her 4th marriage wanting to keep her name as close to my brother's as possible.

I suspect really as is the norm with someone who suffers paranoia about pretty much everything and I am just getting carried away with myself. I think really, if I step back and think about it in actual fact there's nothing for me to be concerned about, his parents aren't draconian and I doubt his Grandfather is likely to care, I am just steeling myself for the disapproval.

When we told them we'd decided to get married I was worried his Mother would automatically assume we would be going to a church, she's a very active member of their local church and I know before his brother married she'd said to his now wife "when you do get married, it will be in my church, won't it?" so I naturally had concerns this was going to happen again. As it happens, it didn't. I told her I hoped she wouldn't mind but we wouldn't be marrying in a church as neither of us are religious and we both felt it would be wrong to begin married life based on vows we did not believe in. I was so relieved, I had all but convinced myself she would be disappointed, which for me wouldn't matter but I was concerned for Mr T, he wouldn't want to upset his parents, I am sure. Still, I am worried it will be considered some sort of snub, not only have I been responsible for their son moving 15 miles away from home but now I am willing to take their contribution (they offered, we didn't expect/ask for it) towards the wedding but I won't take their name.

Look what I've done now, I've convinced myself again they're going to be annoyed about my decision. Well done me. I'm just going to not say anything till it comes up, if it's broached now it will look like it's an issue, won't it? Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Wedding Bore (again)

Well who knew choosing a wedding dress could be such a stressful experience? I don't know whether it was naive of me to think it'd be fun but it really wasn't.

Last week my best friend / chief bridesmaid, C and I went dress shopping. I spent what felt like a lifetime but was probably more like an hour standing around in a changing room wearing only my underwear and the shoes belonging to the shop while a stranger, and later another friend's Mum, put me into huge, heavy dresses. Once I'd been zipped, buttoned and/or corseted up into each dress came the part I dreaded the most. Staring at myself in the mirror. Whenever I try clothes on I don't look at the whole image in the mirror, my eye goes straight to my middle. How fat do I look? Do I look like I have hips? Does it make me look bigger or smaller? Do I even know how big or small I look ordinarily? (The answer to that last one is probably not). So, with each dress C and the assistant waited patiently while I stared and stared and stared. I don't even know how many dresses I tried on, they all just blurred into each other, each one drawing attention to some part or other that I hated. All except one, the One. Then as we were getting ready to leave I spotted another, I tried that on, it was as good as the One, torn I left the shop but not before my friend's Mum had taunted me with another dress which we didn't have time to try. Since last Wednesday I have thought of little else other than the One, I am going back in a week and a half to try the One again and the other I hadn't had time to try. All this for a sodding dress.

I have two problems here. One stems from the eating disorder, I don't see what everyone else sees, as C told me I'm too critical, she's right, I looked for fault in how I looked in every single dress I tried, I do it with every item of clothing I own, it's just this time the decision really, really matters. Which brings me onto my next problem, I can't make decisions. When it's something important I can't decide, I know my own mind but then, when it comes to giving a definitive yes or no, I can't do it. I worry that I will say yes and then something better will come along or something will go wrong, I say no and then wish I hadn't, I'd rather behave in the manner of the proverbial Ostrich and bury my head in the sand. On the one hand I am quite spur of the moment, I'll say yes to something not having given it enough consideration, but then later on when I think about it I find myself trying to come up with ways to get out of it. I agree to go to someone's house for dinner out of politeness, I can't say no, then I remember I can't bring myself to eat in public and that I will spend at least a week before and a week after the event panicking about whatever I have ingested. This is different, I am picking a dress which will cost more than anything else I own (other than my house) it has to be right, but I can't decide if it is or not and nobody else can make that decision for me. I'm always 0.1% unsure of any decision, this is no different.

I don't even want to think about the rest of the decisions coming my way in the next 18 months, there's bridesmaid's dresses, suits, invitations, cake, flowers, seating plans, the list is endless, it's making me feel a little bit sick just thinking about it.

Odd Balls in the Gym

I know I have blogged before about fellow gym goers but just lately there have been yet more strange goings on....

One of the older men recently told me he's been taking slimming tablets to get rid of this (as he pats his belly)... They seem to have turned him insane, he laughs a lot anyway but it's got worse since he's been taking them, I swear he's actually been sold speed because he acts very much in the manner of someone off their face in a club only he's not in a club, he's on a treadmill, shouting at me.

There was a man a week or so ago wearing only one shoe whilst he 'pumped some iron' the other foot was in a cast. Surely that's not ideal gym wear.

Speaking of which, last week I looked on in amazement as the instructor informed the girl on the next but one treadmill to me that her gladiator sandals were inappropriate for going for a run in. A day or so later I mentioned said girl, in passing, to the instructor, apparently she was quite put out he had the audacity to suggest that health and safety regulations ruled out the wearing of sandals and argued with him that "they let me in my gym" - I suggested the instructor should have responded with "well maybe you should go there then".

Last night a girl tried to use the weights machine which strengthens your back and instead of having the cushioned part behind her shoulders she had it in front of her face. Thankfully she was wearing the seat belt so she wasn't in complete danger. I'd love to know which muscle she thought that would work.

Sometimes, I really do think I am the only normal one in there.

Wedding Bore

This is difficult, this evening I am going to view some wedding venues, in secret of course because we still haven't got round to telling our families yet. I don't know why it's become such an issue, I find it difficult to comprehend that they will be particularly interested, afterall it isn't them getting married, it's Mr T and I.

We viewed two venues at the weekend, both owned by the same company, both on the same road, radically different in price for good reason. I feel as if we're going to have to really rethink our budget, the first place we saw was double the cost of the second place. The first had beautiful terraced gardens and enormous rooms furnished with antiques. The second did not have gardens of any sort but did have small rooms furnished antiques. I loved the first place, my bank balance, however, did not.

I fear I am going to have to sell a kidney

Still here

I have just had nothing of any note to say at all. Still don't.

Well, actually that's not entirely true, I do, I have a secret only 3 people know (not strictly a secret, I know).

Mr T has given in, he says this isn't the correct way to put it but I think it is, I have harped on so long that I've broken the poor chap. He's finally decided after ten years together he might actually marry me. It's strange, I've been thinking about the wedding for a good deal of the time we've been together but that's all it's been, idle thoughts about my dress, who would give me away, bridesmaids, where to sit our families who have never actually met each other before, that sort of thing. Only now, it might just happen, it's actually quite a scary prospect.

It's peculiar, all these plans I've had in my head for years are now going to have to be put into practice. Not to mention all the elements I haven't thought much about, bouquets, button holes, mothers' corsages - all three of them. I've had to email venues, ask them if I can have brochures, when can I view them. The day dreaming is now becoming a reality and quite frankly it is terrifying.

I suspect I will be a fully fledged Bridezilla, as my already appointed chief bridesmaid and Mr T have both declared. At least they're both braced for a good year and a bit of panicked anger from me. I know I will be a nightmare but then I am a control freak.

So anyway, we have decided to keep the nuptials quiet for the moment, until at least a venue and date are definite, I fear interference from either family will cause issues so it is for the best. Keeping quiet is killing me, I'd like to be able to chat to friends about it but I can't just in case a family member finds out via a third party. I know his mother will want to bring up the church issue, something I stand firm on, it's not happening, I don't believe in it so I'm not going to begin a marriage based upon lies. My mother will just generally want to be involved, she wasn't a part of my two older sisters' weddings and I have a feeling she'll try to compensate with this one, it's not happening either. As for stepmum, I don't think she'll interfere, she's not like the other two, thankfully.

The day Mr T suggested it, we had friends over, one of them said she wished someone would get married and demanded another friend married her other half, I wanted to say something then but I couldn't, only my best friend/closest confidant and her husband know this secret. Then a day or so later I nearly told another friend but then she mentioned her and her husband were planning a trial separation so that immediately stopped me in my tracks, I couldn't be that insensitive.

I'm going to crack, I just know I am. This is why I am writing this blog, just to get these thoughts out without talking to Mr T or my confidant, I don't want her thinking I've turned into a total wedding bore which I probably will do at some point over the next few months.

Right, in future, don't read my blogs, they will be wedding based which is highly likely to cause drowsiness.

Observation

One lunch time week as I walked back to the office through the local shopping precinct I saw a mobile anti-smoking unit, there were posters emblazoned all over it advising shoppers to quit. All around the unit were benches, upon every bench sat a smoker, puffing away in the sunshine......

Charlatans

A year ago yesterday my maternal Grandmother died which would explain the rather peculiar conversation I had with my Mother at the weekend. Not long after my Grandmother died my Mother and one of my sisters went to see a psychic, I understand that for some people this offers some kind of comfort, that perhaps the deceased are not really gone after all, I don't knock those who do this, personally I can't see the point and would rather just accept the loss and carry on, but there you go.

Anyway, as it is approaching the anniversary I assume she felt that she needed to know that my Grandmother was still about somewhere, watching over her. Fair enough. The pyschic, again fed her information from the other side, things she wouldn't have otherwise known, it's hard to remain sceptical but I do. Who's to say this isn't just what my Mother has read into vague comments and leading statements? The psychic told her she has 4 daughters (correct), one of them is having problems (aren't we all?), one of them is going to be going away somewhere ("and that's what Derek Acorah said" - no really, she went to see Derek Acorah who said the 19yr old one of us would be going to work away, of course she might do, she's young, has no ties, she could easily work abroad) and one of them has long dark hair, it's fallen out, just round the sides..... And here is where my issues lie. That one is me, as a result of my eating disorder my hair thinned a lot, I didn't have a bald patch or anything approaching a bald patch, my hair just wasn't as thick as it once was. The psychic has told my Mother that at 10pm every night she is going to perform some "healing" on me. Healing me of what? Why? I know it's wrong but I have really taken umbrage with this, I don't even believe in this yet I feel strangely uncomfortable and affronted at this unsolicited effort to "heal" me. Yes, if it really is all just rubbish peddled by charlatans then I have nothing to worry about, she's just a crazy lady thinking about a girl with a non-existent bald patch but then part of me, the illogical part of me cannot help but think perhaps there's something in this, and if there is, what is she doing to me? Is it even legal?

I just don't feel comfortable, not one little bit. She's also healing my mother of a stomach issue. Perhaps someone should get in touch with the NHS, the cure for cancer is in a crystal ball

Sentiments

It is rapidly approaching my birthday which means it is even more rapidly approaching the anniversary of my Grandmother's death. She died 3 days before my birthday. I never ever keep cards, I rarely even display cards, they're just too much like clutter for my liking, however, I do still have the card my Mother gave to me on my Grandmother's behalf complete with the money inside it, I can't bring myself to do anything with it, I don't know why but it just doesn't feel right to spend it. So do I leave it sitting in the card for the rest of eternity? I think I'll just donate the money to a charity. It's better with them than sitting on a window cill inside a card

When someone somewhere is trying to tell you something

I am going to Dublin in March, I am chief bridesmaid for my best friend, she has chosen to spend a night and a half over in Ireland for her hen party. The only problem is my passport expired in 2008, having not been out of the UK in 10 years I've had no cause to renew it until now..... Then I discovered I'd lost the expired passport. Hours of searching for something I last remember seeing in 2006 later I had to admit defeat and declare it lost. Owing to signatures being out of boxes, the countersignatory being unable to write etc it took five, yes five, attempts to get the forms ready to be sent off to the passport office.

Anyone else get the impression something terrible is going to happen IF I ever get to Dublin?

Gigs of the musical and comedic variety

One week in November, 4 gigs.

The first was Daniel Kitson who might well be the funniest stand up in the country. I love love love him and he really didn't disappoint, we took two friends with us who had never seen him before, for a while I was concerned they wouldn't like him. They did, they laughed from beginning to end. I am already looking forward to the next tour.

The next was Rob Brydon. I like him in interviews, he's amusing, chatty..... but none of us were sure about the stand up, it was ok, but perhaps having seen Daniel Kitson the night before ruined it for us, he had a lot to live up to. Totally different kind of comic I guess.

Then the first music gig...... Motorhead, I have never wanted to see a bad play live more than these guys. It has been something I've wanted to do for as long as I can remember but every tour there's been some reason or another I've not been able to go. Now though, I can die happy, I have seen Lemmy. Overkill was absolutely amazing. I didn't even get bored during the 5 minute drum solo, it was immense. I wish they'd tour again this weekend because I would be there like a shot. The only downside was the crowd, or at least the old, drunk men. One of whom held me by the waist (despite the 17stone Mr T at my side) and slurred at me for way too long than was necessary. He spoke to Mr T, apparently we didn't look like a couple. I didn't really care what he thought. I told him to stop touching me, he did. I ignored him speaking to me, he wasn't put off, he carried on. I nearly missed Ace of Spades because of him.

Last but by no means least was Alice Cooper, again a show I've wanted to witness for a long time. Probably since the opening bars of Feed My Frankenstein blurred out from the screen whilst watching Wayne's World. Sadly I am too short for an Alice gig. Standing about 10 people back from the stage and with a backcombed mullet worthy of Garth Elgar right in my face for the duration I didn't see an awful lot. The crowd again not only having zero concept of personal space acted in a very very bizarre manner which I have never seen at any other gig. Nobody danced. Every single person stood still, completely still. Maybe they were hypnotized by the man himself, maybe they didn't want to move for fear of losing their space I don't know, but what I do know is it was awkward. Anyway, I've now heard School's Out twice (why is anyone's guess) and I've heard Poison live, no Feed My Frankenstein though which was something of a disappointment but there you go, it's not a juke box it's a live performance. I must say for a man who died on stage three times (or three times that I saw) Alice does a pretty amazing show.

Next month, Tragedy, Imelda May and the Wildhearts in the space of a week and a half. My ears will not thank me but I'm certain I'm going to have fun.

One day

my boss is going to approach me as I sit at my desk upon which there is a pile of heavily scribbled upon paper and ask me what it is he pays me for.....

I won't be able to answer him.

This is quite a worry

Ear plugs

Well last night was the night to test the ear plugs, a night at a Wildhearts gig is always guaranteed to be an assault on the old ear drums. Pity then that I forgot to take them with me when I left the house. I am an idiot, a forgetful idiot.

Has beaten Apple

Hurrah. I am pleased to report I have beaten that slippery bugger iTunes. There's something hidden in the preferences menu which allows MP3 conversions. I am more pleased about this than perhaps I should be.

That's all.

Technology Pt. 2

I wish we had an I.T. Department at work, I could get them to magically put all the tracks I love on a CD for me. Then again, if we did have an I.T. Department I probably wouldn't have a job, I spend way too long online but yesterday would've been the final nail in the coffin if a fire wall had picked up the site I happened upon while I was looking the a band's website so I could find out the set list for a gig I'm going to at the end of the month, I missed out a small yet vital 'the' and found myself sitting at my desk staring at an array of dildos. Ooops.

Technology

I bloody hate technology, I just don't understand it, I cannot make it work.

My iPod is dead, it died a while ago and has remained dead. I was harbouring a secret hope some elves might fix it while I slept, like the kind hearted souls who helped the shoe maker, as yet they have not fixed it. Mr T tried to fix it, he bought me a new hard drive for it, it worked until I asked him to check if a podcast would play and then it died again. I have complained about this before, I am sure. Anyway, last night I thought I would compile some MP3 cds for our next mini adventure, iTunes won't let me create an MP3 cd because the files are M4a format, Windows Media Player won't play either and I can't find the button on Nero to make it work. Are there any elves who I can appeal to for help with this?

I am going to sing to Mr T for the duration of the road trip, maybe that will wear him down enough and he'll replace the iPod. Or maybe I should just give in and buy a new one.

Ageing

I don't know how but over the last few months I have suddenly aged, it's like Benjamin Button in reverse. I am concerned.

At the weekend my Mother taught me how to knit, I have been practising ever since. I am bloody terrible at it but we'll skirt over that.

I have spent a few days looking for ear plugs to wear when I go to gigs because I am paranoid about the vibrating going on in my eardrums whenever I or someone close by shouts. If anyone can recommend some please do.

I need my eyes tested, badly. I have been aware of this fact for quite some time but am increasingly aware that focussing isn't something I am doing automatically.

I have a bad hip, it aches a lot as do my knees.

Last night, I realised I was sitting wrapped in a duvet, watching QVC whilst knitting, I have skipped the age old turning into your Mother thing and headed straight for Grandmother.

daily mail

i am in a rage.

wonder what the journos at the daily mail would look like in a leotard.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1212138/Strictly-Come-Dancing-Natalie-Cassidys-lycra-dance-costume-disastrous-yet.html

Bobby Sands

It has just dawned on me that I have not been referred to as Bobby Sands in months, hurrah, perhaps the name caller has realised it's not really the done thing. Or maybe he's just concerned there's a potential tribunal to be had from the situation........

Gigs

I have just found out that Motorhead are being supported by the Damned when we go to see them in November, I am very excited. Three days after Motorhead we are going to see Alice Cooper. I am going to turn myself into one of the girls from the background in Wayne's World for a few days at the end of the year.....