Locked out, Loved up and Living it large.

Wow, the last time I blogged was November. How can this be? There isn’t even a feasible excuse for this tardiness, bar character and the winter blues.

In the meantime we’ve had Christmas, 2011, my 46^th birthday and an ever frustrating job search.

Where on earth do I begin?  The current addiction to facebook might be a start. I seem to be on this site constantly, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing – the day starts with a browse of my profile page. The excitement of possible comments on your status and a barely contained competitive streak whilst repeatedly playing Tetris, or Zuma, quite frankly, make me a tad embarrassed.
I’m a woman in her 40’s with a house to clean, a teenager to control and a job to hold down, yet can easily while away an hour doing absolutely nothing except cursing my opponent and inappropriately gloating when a win is announced.  “In your face” and “Ha – beat that” have been heard to echo from the cubby hole we call a pc room.

Not that I’d ever admit this, of course.

Christmas was pleasant. That’s it really.  Gifts were exchanged and too much food eaten. A skirmish broke out over the quality street. A heated discussion about whether or not the youngest was responsible for the depleting levels of Baileys and Amaretto, was laid to rest with beers all round.

New Year’s Eve. Having successfully lied to and hidden from the boring neighbours who’d suddenly decided they were coming to our house for the evening, we settled down to an evening of decadent tv watching and wine drinking. Of course the kids had other ideas and taking pity on their aged ‘rents decided to pop in and out all evening
. …sigh…
After midnight we took a stroll to watch the city erupt in a passing imitation of Beirut and Hell. All mixed up in one explosive, sulphurous cloud. Of course I assumed that my (by now) very drunk husband had keys on him or had locked the door. He hadn’t, on both counts. 

Gary had though. Bless his conscientious little heart.

We arrived home in the freezing drizzle to a locked house and no means of breaking in. Naturally, that’s a good thing but not at 1.30am on New Year’s Morn when the world and his Auntie are celebrating. Luckily the car wasn’t locked – Pat again? I refused to move  from the passenger seat. Because of course, it was all his fault and  left him to wander alone in the search for a friendly, relatively sober and awake neighbor with a phone.  He finally called Tony who, partying just around the corner, was still functioning to some degree of normalcy. Laughing heartily, T turned up with our friend the housekey, let us in and lectured me about not being too harsh on his Drinky Aul’ Daddy. Cute isn’t he !

My 46^th birthday…..46?  Nuff said aye.  Although I did have a small party with some wonderful people who spoiled me, helped me through this traumatic event by drinking and laughing the night away and shamed me into shrugging off my hormonally imbalanced sulks. 

Why am I unable to find another job?   I wish I knew. The applications, whereas not exactly fast and furious are steady and true.

 Unfortunately, without success. 

After a recent meeting with an employment agency, my cv was fine-tuned and modernized. Having nicked the super-dooper template of son nr1, added a photo and removed a lot of detail, I felt very good about the job application that seemed made for me.  My new, prospective employers didn’t agree and I never made the cut.

Although, I’m on the hold pile.The hold pile?

For the first time in my life, I phoned to ask if they’d received my application and what the status of the position was?

 Now, I was miffed to hear the bad news but her reaction to my accent puzzled me slightly. Or lack of accent. I should explain that having lived in Holland for 20 odd years, I speak very good Dutch. Accentless – if that’s even a word – fluent enunciation by a person with a decidedly British name and nationality seemed not to compute and Ms. Vlek asked me to repeat my name, twice.  This might clarify why I’ve been rejected so often lately. A lot of ex-pats, whilst bragging about speaking “fluent” Dutch, actually sound dreadful and are difficult to follow. I suppose everyone can say they speak a foreign language, yet it needs to be proven to be believed. I intend to phone after submitting my CV in future. 

Ha - in your face selection committee. 

This morning however, my world took on the warm glow of Valentine Surprise. Pat’s had to go to Paris for work and although we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day to the expected hyped degree (He says he loves me all year round and prefers to show it for more than one day … Awww) we are usually together. When, feeling slightly dejected I went to my bicycle bags this morning and found a lovely heart shaped box of chocolates, I felt all girly and happy again. He has a box of red velvet cupcakes, made with love and buttercream to brighten the advent of the gloomy “Peripherique”.

Gosh, what a lot of reading I’ve given you. I haven’t even mentioned the "Red Bull Crashed Ice" World Championships or my pending operation.

Probably,  because I’m trying to ignore the pending operation.

Watch this space.  Although, not too closely – I’m notorious for being a fair-weather blogger and it is only February after all.

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony". ~ Mahatma Gandhi. 

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony. ~ Mahatma Gandhi