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Freaking Karma

I’m sick today.

I’m sick and the freaking sun refuses to stop shining outside and mock the hell out of me.

People are meant to be sick in the winter. Winter is an acceptable time to get sick. I mean most people totally expect to get sick during the Autumn and Winter months, when it’s freezing cold or raining like hell. We welcome a day spent indoors under the blankets coughing and sneezing all over stuff while sipping hot drinks. It’s perfectly natural to be sick then.

It’s completely against Mother Nature to be sick in the Spring and Summer you guys. It defies science.

You can’t help but feel totally conned when you have a summer cold, or in my case,  spring cold. You tend to attempt huddling under a blanket with half your body out, half in, getting ticked off and looking outside thinking to yourself what the freak did I do to piss off the universe?!

Yeah, what did you do?

You didn’t do anything, you’re innocent right? Totally and utterly innocent. In fact, the universe owes you, am I right?!

Then the flashbacks start.


Oh yeah, it’s all coming back to you now isn’t it?

There you were dragging your kids around town shopping, one screaming in the stroller the other on broken record mode asking every 3 seconds if there is a bathroom and a chocolate bar nearby. You can’t take it anymore, you decide I need a coffee….right now before I lose it. You’re in line – the dancing bathroom princess is now hopping around asking if she can please have a muffin…pretty please, the double- triple- super sized chocolate muffin with chocolate frosting and a butt load of sugar on top. Yes that one, at the FRONT of the glass, right there…yes the one that costs 3.95 because she knows you are made of money oh and the biggest drink they have going too, just in case she empties her bladder in a second and needs to fill it back up again. So you order one double-triple super sized chocolate muffin complete with massive drink and the biggest damn caramel latte that you do please and that huge slice of cake that I just saw and have to have due to the stress overload I am experiencing….how much?! Dear god just take my first born child in payment, jeezus.

Then she orders. That voice behind you, the one that belongs to the lady that was standing in line after you that you missed because your kid was doing the pee pee dance and you were shouting over your screaming toddler so the guy behind the counter and the rest of the coffee shop could hear what you were ordering.

I’ll have a plain soy latte please. Would you like any cakes or pastries today with that? Oh no….no thank you.


Of course she is gorgeous. Naturally, her hair is immaculate and not at all in a ponytail like yours and even if it was – you know her ponytail would look amazing. She’s wearing high heels, I mean her bag fucking matches her high heels and her nails are perfectly painted and she smells really nice like the cosmetics counter lady and there is not a stitch of make up running down her perfectly primed face.

You smile at her. Mostly because you just ordered a huge caramel latte and oversized slice of cake. Also because you have a kid who’s knees are now so buckled together that she is going to esssplode Mommy, tooooiileettt….. your toddler is screaming in drabs now too because he’s actually worn himself right out and is fighting the urge to sleep by pulling his head up occasionally and letting out a huge wail.

She smiles back, but you suspect it’s one of those obligated smiles. It’s definitely a better you than me smile.

It’s at this moment that your cake is put in front of you along with your massive cup that really should be a pot plant it’s so huge. You opt for oh wow I didn’t realize these cups were so big – yes you did, you ordered one last week. She gives you the head up, wide smile nod that suggests she really doesn’t care but she can tell you do, classic woman look.

You make your way over to a table, trying to do the carry the tray in one hand and push the stroller in the other maneuver. She passes you with a polite oh sorry and makes her way over to the table with the guy sitting at it that looks like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein underwear advert so now she’s done it. You have no choice.

You have to hate her.

You can’t even enjoy your cake now can you? That woman has ruined the size of your pot plant coffee cup and made you feel like a strung out caffeine junkie who can’t even find a bathroom for her kid. If you eat that cake now in front of that woman, she’s gonna clearly see why you have a spare tire around your mid-drift. And now you clearly see why you have a spare tire around your mid-drift. Why didn’t you think to order a plain freaking latte with no cake?!

But you just spent a tenner on all this stuff. You can’t waste a tenner because of her. YOU ordered it. So now you are all worked up even more. Now you are plotting your gym memberships and saying how you will go running tomorrow to work it off, yada yada yada and by the time you have slammed the latte and cake you’re all set to run a 10k marathon by next week. Because surely that will make up for everything.

And that’s when you over hear her telling Calvin Klein guy all about her recent charity work.

Somebody just shoot you right now and put you out of your misery.

You can’t even hate her. She’s not even a bad person. She’s doing charity work and she’s gorgeous and she has a hot boyfriend and she makes really good decisions at coffee shops, whereas you don’t and it totally shows so now…..noooow…

You secretly hope that her high heel breaks off and she falls flat on her face and breaks three nails.

How could you?

How could you be so freaking mean? She’s a nice person. She’s got it together. It’s not her fault you’re having a really bad day and you aren’t going down to the gym like you promised yourself three years ago you would. It’s not her fault you ordered a big ass piece of cake is it?

But you wished it anyway. So now two weeks later, you’re stuck indoors in the nice weather, sick as a dog, coughing and sneezing all over everything while your kids single handedly destroy the house while you are weak and you can’t even snuggle up under a blanket and be sick properly and pretend it’s not happening.

The universe is punishing you for being an evil jealous bitch.

Because when being sick defies science like this, there is only one explanation for it…

Freaking Karma.


Fancy a cuppa?

In order to break the ice and get the flow going back on the blog, I figured we could all sit down for a nice cup of tea together.

Provided you guys are man enough.

Well are you?!

Fuckin Tea
Watch more comedy videos from the twisted minds of the UCB Theatre at


Don’t slurp! It’s rude!

Also, I’m totally back.

Life is like a box of chocolates

Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.

I’m pretty sure Forrest Gump hit the nail on the head. Or actually it was his Mom, since he did say in that scene that his Mama always used to say it. Either way it was freaking genius and now I’m sorta needing a chocolate bar now.

Damn you Gump.

I’m sure you guys are reading this like why the hell should we even be reading this, you abandoned us lady? Which wouldn’t be entirely accurate, but I guess without any sort of explanation it probably feels like that. But it’s been a strange and wondrous little path I’ve been down and while things are absolutely great for me, I’m kinda losing many hours in my day that I actually can’t account for. It’s sorta like being out parting all night, but without the booze, stupid pictures and panda eyes in the morning. Either that, or I’m losing hours like a goldfish swimming around in my bowl having deja vu all damn day. You know that must suck.

Basically, I need a work/life balance. When I decided that maternity leave was over and I was going to relaunch my business, I didn’t actually think much of anything was going to happen straight away. In fact I figured it would take a while to get it’s momentum going again.  Boy was I wrong. I’ve been doing my best to juggle everything in some strange and delicate balance and now I’m finally hoping that I’ve got a grip on things, my work head on and getting through a little more organised.

Stop laughing you guys, seriously I can be organised!

Ok you’re right, I’m totally not organised but at least I’m trying right?! Do I get a cookie or something for that? But better than cookies, I’ve decided that what I really need is a laptop, something I’ve been threatening to get for a while now. I believe that my entire life would be improved if I just had a laptop. Like the heavens would open up and I could do a lot more in bed making my life so much easier. Ok it’s really not about being in bed working, but it is about doing work wherever I am and more importantly getting to write anywhere. Yeah that would totally improve the quality of my life. Although I’m not sure what my house would look like. Let’s not go there and pretend I get a program on the laptop that orders a free maid service.

So catch me up! What’s been happening in the world of Bloggers?! How are you guys, what’s the scoop, how’s the weather and all that stuff!? I sorta need to know and make contact with the outside world. Just in case, can anyone translate morse code?!

Now if you will excuse me, I’m off to find out where Forrest is hiding his box of chocolates before I start having a T-total meltdown. I swear I’ll just have one since I’m still working on getting my sexy back.

Or maybe I’ll just eat half of one and throw the other half at Gump for making me do it.

Yeah, I like that.

Project Sexy

Ah the smell of a new year.  I guess for many, the new year sorta smells a lot like leftover booze which really can’t be a great way to start the new year unless you got pictures. Or at least unless someone else got pictures of you, which could be fun depending on who you are I guess. You’re right, it’s probably best no one took pictures. Especially ones of evidence that you made a New Year’s resolution to go to the gym 6 days a week and quit smoking. I’m not entirely sure you thought that one out about the gym.

Normally, I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions. I end up on January 2nd reasoning to myself that there is no way anyone in this entire planet could possibly give up eating chocolate forever and what the hell was I thinking I am so not ready for this and thus ending up gorging on like 500 pieces of chocolate. It’s usually not very pretty lemme tell ya. But when I was looking forward into 2011, I thought holy crap, this is totally MY year – because you see, 11 is MY number. Not just my lucky number, it’s totally mine and I’m currently working on a patent. Something totally amazing has to happen this year, or else I will abandon all ye hope here and probably spend 2012 wallowing in self pity that I missed my year. That can’t happen. It just simply can’t happen. I know what I have to do.

I have to get sexy in 2011.

I need to just say, it’s been a little while since I felt really sexy. It’s one thing to feel sexy inside,  but I’d like to feel sexy with my outside too – there’s a lot less va va voom going on with that. This really isn’t about me being too hard on myself either, this is about me reclaiming myself. I need to be reminded that before Motherhood there was just me. You know, before kids came along, revamped my body and rearranged a few key body parts. But being sexy isn’t just about looking good, you gotta feel good too. Which is why my goals for getting there aren’t about waking up at the start of 2012 looking like Claudia Schiffer, while that’s not a bad goal it’s a little unrealistic. Just a little you guys. She is hot though. No, my goals for bringing my sexy back are about the whole package, the big sha-bang – this is sexy me style, not sexy what everyone else thinks style.

So here it is, the list of things on this project to help make 2011 MY year. The year I went and got sexy back.

  • Currently my ass is edging towards the size of Texas. It’s one inch away from having it’s own capital. While big butts are bootylicious, mine isn’t quite so J-Lo and more like just got run over by a steamroller. Not sexy. Thus, I need to shed a few pounds.
  • There is nothing sexy about being tired, lethargic and lacking energy. While four kids is enough to make anyone a whack job in the mornings, I need an extra boost to stay on top of things. I have barely enough energy for them and housework and none for myself. Exercise and good diet should fix that.
  • I swear to God my wardrobe looks like it belongs to some cave woman. Nothing in my closet feels like it reflects me and I never buy clothes for myself until I have to. I usually feel guilty for buying myself clothes “just because”, but if I don’t get out of the 1990’s and the baggy shit I will never feel sexy. I will revamp my wardrobe this year. Buying it all here and there won’t be a big sting out of the finances.
  • The kids decided my boobs looked better lower down. I’m not so sure. I will own 5 bras by 2012 that put my boobs back up where they are supposed to be.


Losing weight is at the top of that list, because carrying all this excess really doesn’t do anything for my confidence. I also have had some wake up calls this year that have put things into perspective on the need to lose weight and exercise for my health. So it’s happening. For me, being sexy is all about feeling confident and looking in the mirror and being happy with the person I see. So Claudia Schiffer can totally bite me. She is hot though. Damnit.

There’s simply no need for me to go around looking like a tired, worn out Mom who looks like she’s about to hit a bottle of vodka any moment. Hell no. I want to look and feel like a Mom who is young, vibrant, energetic and not wasting her early 30’s being anything else. I have plenty of time to be tired when I’m 99. So I’m going to keep you all reguarly updated on my progress on getting sexy. If I fail and fall flat on my face, I can so drag you all down with me. Or at least show myself up to you guys, so there is some extra motivation because I really don’t think being sexy starts with looking like a total ass.

So have any of you made resolutions this year? If you’re up for sharing, tell me what it is! If, like me you have vowed to not let cake rule your life, then I’m totally here for you. If you’ve decided to share it on your blog too, give me your blog address so I can come stalk you and shout at you like a drill instructor for support…..wait…I mean I’ll come offer a supportive word or three and we can keep each other motivated. It will totally work.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I’m not sure you read my letter last year.

Now Santa, we both know I never ask for anything. Except that time I wished that girl down the road didn’t get the barbie Dreamhouse because she already had a million more Barbies than me, but that totally doesn’t count. It works like bad credit, it gets wiped off your file after 7 years right?!  

We both know I’ve worked really hard on the whole being good thing, which wasn’t easy and I should have scored a whole load of brownie points with the homemade cookies. (Homemade Santa….by hand. Pfft.)

So what gives?

Seriously Santa. If you could kindly get me what I asked for last year……

 Then, because you know how awesomely good I’ve been – we can talk about this year’s present……


It wouldn’t just make my Christmas Santa….it would make my year.  (No pressure.)  Plus, if I find these two presents under the tree on Christmas Day, I’ll totally take back all the stuff I said about you last year and we can get back to the homemade cookies and possibly fudge if you make good on the gift giving. 

 Pinky Swear.

 Here’s hoping Santa. Please don’t let me down (again).



 P.S. If I find another pair of socks this year under the tree….I’m giving you freaking soya milk with boxed cookies next year.



 Wishing you all a very happy holiday and that Santa brings you the joys of good company and great food!


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