I cried at Metallica. Mock me, I dare you.

10525656_10202969314847868_4262964689361722112_nI think the title of this post suggests that I’m an over-emotional-basket-case-nutjob. Which is entirely true, but focusing on that right now would miss the entire point of this post. Besides, there’s still no medication to fix that level of crazy, believe me my doctor is at his wits end. The NHS should really give that guy a pay raise.

So this year my other half and I decided that in honour of how we met and the fact that we both love music, we needed to hit a festival. One of the festivals we had no real choice but to attend, since it was part of the reason the cosmos aligned perfectly to ensure we got together in the first place. We figured that not going was going to mean impending doom on our relationship if we didn’t actually make it. I mean, you can’t mess around with superstition you guys and we are on a pretty good roll here. So Download was on and we had this amazingly awesome time, bands happened and fabulous company witnessed it all. Deal was sealed and we had pictures to prove everything. Some of which we are still fighting to have removed from the internet…..anyway……

But then, Sonisphere was also on this year just a few weeks after Download. We ooh’d, we ahh’d, we stared at our bank balances for a very long time. We ooh’d again, we scrunched up our faces, we thought “do we? Don’t we?” Really though……. Metallica.  There just wasn’t anything left to decide after knowing Metallica was there. I started plotting my get rich quick scheme and even though no body bought into that at all, somehow by the powers that be enough luck was on our side that we made BOTH festivals happen. I’m fairly sure I’ve used up everything in my karma bank now to make that happen. I’ve just bought some bubble wrap on eBay until I can do enough good deeds again to rack up my balance and I probably have quite a bit of interest to repay now too. Also any tips on how I can bubble wrap myself efficiently would be great right now.

Metallica were on the Sunday, which gave me enough time to practise keeping my cool until the big day arrived. However, it also provided quite a bit of torture of the kind I have only ever really had with Santa Claus. My brain was a little “CHRISTMAS IS ALMOST HERE” for most of the weekend, but a little voice in my head kept saying “You’re a grown woman, man up for god’s sake” I kept it under wraps, I didn’t lose my shit on the Friday or the Saturday, but by the Sunday I was starting to become a bundle of excitement and nerves. That is, until the band before Metallica (which by the way was Therapy? and if I don’t mention that Jay is probably going to unfriend me on Facebook for forgetting. Keep calm and don’t unfriend me!) That was when, everything got a little weird…….

You know how something major is about to change your life and you know it’s coming, but the only thing you can do is get really nervous and say stupid things because your brain is slowly frying and attempting to process what is about to happen? By the time we were standing there watching Therapy? I was slowly turning into a mindless mush. Time was going way to freaking slow, this band was playing way to freaking long and I needed someone to just punch me in the face to ensure I wasn’t going to pass out. I couldn’t really say anything and as everyone was like “you ok?” the only thing that could come waltzing out of my mouth was “Metallica”. In a brief moment of sanity, I just put it out there to someone (it may have possibly been a stranger, I can’t really remember) “You guys, I am going to cry. No, really, I am going to cry.” I’m pretty sure no one really believed me, because honestly

Who the hell cries at a heavy metal concert?

If you ever need anyone to break a few new boundaries for you, take a few things to whole new levels of weird, it seems I am indeed that someone. I always knew it deep down. Thankfully, no one decided to actually have me committed, which I want to personally thank them for that was really sweet. I also need to thank Chris for not holding this against me at any time during or after the event, he was entirely supportive of my mentally unstable moment. That’s real love you guys. After swooping through the biggest crowd I have ever seen in my entire life, Metallica hit the stage and I swore I was just going to hold it together. Yeah……that worked out for a grand total of 5 minutes when I realised I was just standing there with tears streaming down my face. Since I don’t do anything by half…..ever…..I managed to cry

For the entire 2 hour set.


Yeah. I’m not even embarrassed. I have waited for over 20 years to see these guys live. Ok, I’m a little embarrassed now that I am old enough to have waited over 20 years to see these guys live, so can we just stick with the story that I have liked Metallica since I was 5? No? Alright suck it.

How could I not cry? Metallica you guys. Seeing them live was on my bucket list. (of course I have a bucket list) I will point out now that I don’t really cry that often, especially in front of people. I dunno it’s a thing.  It felt like everyone and their second cousin twice removed had seen Metallica before me, for no less than 25 times. My 13 year old self was standing there rendered stupid at the sound of them playing absolutely every single song I have ever adored from them. There was an overload of nostalgia and they sounded just amazing. In case just being there wasn’t perfect enough, the whole show was BY REQUEST. Worth waiting over 20 years (I WAS 5! Sigh.)

I’m actually quite proud. I’m just going to own it. I don’t even care if you guys want to mock me now and make fun. Do it. I totally dare you to do it. However since my Mom might be reading this post and since she decided in my early teens that heavy metal was a phase I was going through…… and she didn’t want me to end up as a convict because I listened to such angry music…… and I secretly used to listen to Metallica when she wasn’t looking….

Mom I’m not grounded now am I?

She can’t still do that right? I mean she lives over an entire ocean and a huge chunk of land mass and I’ve moved on, apparently into adulthood, to become a Mother for many years now. Her groundation rights are revoked right? I would like to take this opportunity to point out that I did not grow up to be a criminal Mom…..

Whatever. It was totally worth it.


What if I need to get to Tijuana DVLA?

Dear DVLA,

Everything has a time frame.

If you Google getting from one place to another, Google gives you an approximate time frame. For instance, Google tells me that it will take approximately 11 hours and 10 minutes on a non stop flight to get to Tijuana, Mexico. It also tells me I’m going to need to fly there from a London airport and since you guys aren’t playing ball with me, Google says it’s going to take me 10 hours and 7 minutes to walk to London City Airport from my house.  Google obviously isn’t taking into account that I could potentially pass out en route. I hope it’s factored a Starbucks somewhere on my walk to prevent any medical disasters.

So tell me what if I need to get to Tijuana? What the hell am I supposed to do then? 

See DVLA, if you just gave me my freaking license back I could be sitting in Tijuana with a bottle of tequila in 12 hours and 3 minutes. In 12 hours and 20 minutes I could be passed out on the floor  of a dodgy pub wearing a sombrero and flip flops,  after having devoured the worm with party goers laughing and dancing around me. If we do this shit your way, it’s going to take me 21 hours and 17 minutes to even get to Tijuana, in which the only place I am going to pass out is right outside the plane stepping off the damn thing from sheer exhaustion NOT wearing a sombrero and flip flops.

Which to you sounds more economical DVLA? None of this seems remotely humane.

I’ve been waiting for four months for you to process my application. At first you said, hey give us six weeks to get back to you because honestly the coffee here is absolute crap and we can’t work any faster on the cheap £1.99 jar of instant stuff. I understood. I thought, you know what, that’s fair. After more than six weeks later you guys said, well we’ve finally got Ted in the other department to type up a letter to your neurologist and he’s actually posted it. We’re sorry it’s taken so long, but Ted’s wife left him over Christmas and he’s been crying all over your previous letters and we thought it was unprofessional to send those out. It’s going to take another six weeks to see if we get a reply. I thought, ok so the DVLA obviously doesn’t give out personal leave time very well, but you’re probably under staffed and Ted is clearly dedicated to his job and it’s all he has left. I just hoped that my neurologist was having a better time in his love life and could get his secretary to type up a letter in less than six weeks.

So when today, my update consisted of well yes, we got a letter from your super efficient neurologist WEEKS ago and now we’re going to pass this onto our medical team. They will evaluate the letter, decide whether or not your Neurologist is paying his secretary enough money based on whether she can type and spell properly, get a handwriting analysis  investigator to analyse his signature and figure out if he’s telling us the truth or not about your medical condition and sit and have open therapy sessions with one another because all of this could potentially drag up some deep seeded emotional issues, especially with Ted because his wife WAS lying to him for 14 years. Then we’ll calm him down and get him to write you ANOTHER letter whenever all that is finished to let you know what our decision is about your license. I was pretty much devastated. Especially when I nicely asked you on the phone how long all of this was going to take, expecting a standard six weeks time frame and you jerk wads said Uh, there is no actual time frame on this part of the process. Do you know how heartbroken Ted is? It could take months of personal therapy and since he is our priority and our coffee is STILL the cheapest £1.99 crap, and we need to do a background check on your Neurologist to make sure he’s not wanted for fraud in any other countries, this could take….. you know what we don’t even know how long this could take.

You guys could have at least lied to me and said it would take possibly six to eight weeks and not just leave me hanging like this. 

I know I’ve been off the road for like four years. I get that. I know you’re swamped with sob stories about people who have to endure public transport and I’m also aware that walking is incredibly good for my health and will keep me from all sorts of other medical problems. I know, I’m a grown woman who knows all about calorie intake and output, I get that.

But seriously, when Ted’s marital breakdown is affecting my ability to just drive down to buy cat litter in bulk, or just be able to nip down to the store on a rainy day without hesitation, or get down to Tijuana to save a friend from a Mexican drug lord named Paco and wind up passed on on the floor of a dodgy pub wearing a sombrero and flip flops, well…..

I have a problem.  

Either give Ted some proper personal leave to sort his life out and get a temp in, who at least will work faster than Ted is right now provided she wasn’t single over Valentine’s Day this year- or just say truce and issue me with my license so I can get on with my life on the road. This isn’t a difficult choice you guys, it’s not like Paco is in your office yelling at you in Spanish in a poncho being scary, waving your cheap jar of instant coffee around like a hostage. He’s in Tijuana, in flip flops, probably with a whole case of Tequila maybe even eating a burrito.

Which is where I need to be you heartless bastards. 


Your Ultimate guide to Valentine’s Day

funny-valentines-day-love-quoteFour year’s ago I did a series of four posts in honor of the big Day O Love, which turned out to be quite popular. I guess I felt there was this need to reintroduce people to getting Valentine’s a little more right and to avoid more sulks and deep frustrated sighs that their partner’s had absolutely no idea how this whole thing worked. Plus, it’s a holiday that’s become a little less fun and more of a pressure that probably feels like an interrogation session.

You guys, it’s supposed to be fun. 

So I figure, let’s all stop insisting that it’s an over commercialized load of hog wash and get down to actually thinking that expressing your love to your partner is perhaps not a bad thing. Whether you make a huge deal about it, or a little one, everyone likes a little appreciation now and then right? Right. But if professing your undying love to your other half really leaves you feeling cold sweats and nauseous, then I’ve got a few little suggestions that might help give you a starting place.

So Ladies and Gentleman, your Ultimate guide to Valentine’s Day.

A guide for the Ladies – the low down on getting Valentine’s right for your man

Ladies, let’s get off our high horses and come down to the understanding that we really aren’t always getting it right for our men folk. Allow me to leave you with that for a moment, catch your breath and stop shouting at my blog things like “But he LOVED the leopard undies, candy heart on a stick, mushy card and teddy bear I bought him last year!” Did he? So where is that stuff now? Short of that, if you asked him what you got him last year, he might give you that panicked look of doom that sets the off the siren sound in his head and red lights because craappp trick question! I don’t know stop asking me woman!!! – he can’t remember.  Just no getting mad if you actually ask him – just contemplate your defeat at not quite getting him something he swooned over. Do this over coffee, because coffee makes things better.

It’s hard for us to admit that we can completely miss the angle for guys, but if we were all getting it right more men would be excited about Valentine’s Day. So here you are Ladies, a little guide to getting it right with your men!

10 things NOT to buy him for Valentine’s

How to make his Valentine’s memorable


A guide for the Men – all you need to know about nailing Valentine’s for your Lady

Alright guys, I’m about to de-code the female thing for you and get you operating in the right direction here to completely stay out of the dog house for Valentine’s Day. I know, the aisles at the stores are full of pink, red and white, with an infestation of hearts, making you really want to hurl and run out before you catch the need to take up arts and crafts. It stinks of mush there eh? You know this could make or break the rest of your month and send your record of days without incident either back to zero, or an all time high. No pressure. But she might cry or get all quiet and either result is probably not what you hoped for. Stop thinking that quiet might be bliss.

Here you go, a little help from the Crazy Lady in helping you score brownie points with your woman and hopefully, some brownie points in other places too when she sees what a catch she’s got. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

10 things NOT to buy her for Valentine’s 

How to make her Valentine’s Day unforgettable


I hope you guys stuff your faces with chocolates and drown in so much passion that its difficult to wake up Saturday morning without shouting out your bedroom windows how freaking awesome your partner’s are. Or at least feel the urge to bring a cup of joe to your other half in bed with a smile and an elbow nudge.

So here’s to happy dumbstruck faces all across the world this Friday! 

May Cupid strike you in the butt cheek with his arrow. Happy Valentine’s!


It seems my life lacks batteries. And sleep.

Out of juiceYou guys are going to have to forgive this post.

I’m writing this post in a serious state of sleep deprivation and a lethal amount of coffee in my system. In fact I think there is so much caffeine happening that it could probably keep a large gorilla going for the next week, at least. I am now wondering if that tenth cup was really the way forward…..

How many cups do you guys think qualifies as an overdose? 

Great, now I’m strung out and paranoid. This has all the makings of an after school special, which I’m pretty sure is not a good thing.

So I get to last night, to which everything had a plan and to which the Universe decided screw your plan lady, we have other plans. Before I knew it all the stuff I was supposed to be doing turned into playing nurse to my little boy….for the entire night. We had a sick party from 11.30pm till the crack of mutha freakin’ dawn. We’re hardcore like that. He ended up being incredibly sick and yet somehow managed to continue to be terribly cute in the process. How do the kids manage that anyway? I’m not entirely sure how they get to be cute sick little mini people when they are ill. Me on the other hand, less cute, more like Medusa meets the Exorcist. Not the most attractive image I have to say. I wonder what age I lost the ability to be cute while ill? I bet that’s not a milestone my parents remembered to jot down in my baby book. I must remember to guilt trip them later about that.

While today I actually had plans to be social and do awesome things, I’m instead indoors with sleep deprivation wondering why I have a serious lack of batteries in my life. Because obviously this is a life threatening problem that I should be bothering myself with right now. I’ve come to the conclusion that I have some weird aversion to buying them. My daughter, who is attempting to be really helpful and demanding at the same time, needed some AGAIN for the xbox remote (I swear I just replaced those ones) and we ended up scrounging all the remotes in the house to find two that worked like a couple of hobos. Then I realized that there are a great many things in my house that I need to get batteries for and yet I continue to avoid buying them.

I really need to address this fear of battery purchasing, it’s starting to inhibit my life.

I think it comes from the refusal to actually make the toys in this house electronic again because they all seem to go off at inappropriate moments waking children who should be sleeping up. Like when I’m meant to be playing Tooth Fairy and I’m wanting to be really silent and slip in like a pink fluffy ninja. Not to mention driving me into being mentally challenged during the day when they hit the same buttons over and over. Maybe I should consider hypnotherapy to work this out. Or perhaps I should consider investing in rechargeable batteries, which means only facing this fear ONCE to buy the damn things.

But then I think I’d just end up forgetting to recharge them or being super impatient when I needed them RIGHT THEN to settle world war 3 when the xbox remote isn’t working.

Screw it, I’m just raising my kids as Quakers now.

If any of this post made actual sense to you, I sympathize.  You too must be on the brink of a  nervous break down. I’d recommend the coffee to help you cope, but I’m pretty sure I’ve drunk it all and am currently seeing pretty colours in the midst of my zombie Mom mode.

Yeah it’s like that.

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