Excuses, excuses
Don’t you hate it when you read a blog and the blogger in question gives a long and boring explanation as to why she’s not been posting much/her blog’s turned to a complete sack of crap? (Delete as appropriate).
Don’t you also hate it when the reason they give for this lack of attention to, let’s face it, something that very few people could actually give a stuff about, is something nauseatingly self congratulatory? Something like “Sorry for not posting, people, but I’ve been so busy with spending my lottery win…” or “Sorry for not posting people, it’s just that what with that affair I’m having with (insert actor of choice here-used to be Brad Pitt was a popular choice, suddenly not so much now he’s grown a raggedy old beard. Gerard Butler, then. Except don’t you think he looks like a potato?) I’m lucky if I can make my way to the computer for physical exhaustion”.
Well, I am that nauseating blogger. The Misssives have suffered of late. Effectively they’ve suffered for the whole of this year, and my attendance on some of your blogs has also been pitiful. Nauseating reason? Well it’s because I wrote a book with a certain other recently sloppy blogger called Emma. It was a lot of work, we had our ups and downs, like finding an agent, then finding out she was a crappy agent, and and feeling very sorry for ourselves, but then carrying on anyway. But then, last month, a rather splendid Australian publishing company with impeccable taste bought our book. So the nauseating reason is, we wrote a book called Cocktails at Naptime and it’s getting published. With illustrations and everything! Huzzah!
I promise not to turn into one of those awful people who bang on about their book all the time, but I will let you know when it’s out there (November 2010) in case you want to shoplift a copy.
I’m editing it just now (because there are loads of shit bits that have to be made not shit) so again posting may be light for the next couple of months. Just wanted to tell you my news and let you know that I really appreciate the people who still do read the blog and comment occasionally. It will go back to being a worthwhile read soon, I promise.
C’mon it’s not that bad, I could have been blogging about the state of my teeth every week (doing fine with the braces, by the way- amazing improvement- I look like Marie Osmond) or my dog (The Black Menace is fine, he’s still pulling me off my feet and biting the face off the odd soft toy, but otherwise he’s a little champione) or my husband (Meeester got singled out by the dame in a panto we went to on Saturday and ridiculed- it made his day. He now wants to be a pantomime dame. Those reading this who know him will be able to visualise this). Or what my kids are up to (that’s them at the top of the post standing next to the dead sperm whale that washed up on the beach beside us-. We know how to entertain them kids, we really do. You’ve never smelled anything like it in your puff).
And, so, how are you?
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Cigarettes and Alcohol
I used to smoke you will be appalled to hear.
Officially I ended it the second I decided to try and procreate about twelve years ago. Unofficially I ended it the time I decided to procreate a second time. All in all, I have not touched a cigarette for seven years.*
In between the birth of the first and second born of the Flying Martini children I lapsed slightly from time to time. But the cigarettes I smoked didn’t count, because I was in a foreign country when I smoked them.
As soon as we hit foreign soil Meeester and I would seek our favoured brand of local cigarettes, dependent on the country we were visiting, and arm ourselves up with a bunch of reasons why smoking on holiday was acceptable and permissable:
“It’s immersing yourself in the local culture!”
“They are so cheap, it’s like saving money!”
“This is the kind of country that if you don’t smoke they think you are being rude. When in Rome…!”
I discovered that others have such smoking exemption excuses. For me, it was only “Smoking doesn’t count if you’re on holiday” but recently I have heard a few other choice ones from correspondents and friends of The Misssives.
Situations or places where smoking doesn’t count are:
- If you’re in the car
- If you’re trying to bond with new workmates in the smoking corner of the car park
- At parties
- If you’ve just had bad news
- At New Year (that’s almost like a reverse New Year’s resolution that one)
- If you’re with the band (my husband’s excuse)
- If you’re having a really shit day
You don’t have to be a faux smoker to join in. There are other things that are slightly bad for you can turn you into a self-delusional nutcase. Such as alcohol.
Booze: It doesn’t count if:
If you are in a church. (Passing by one doesn’t count)
The drink concerned has fruit other than lemon in it. Pimms is great for this. Why with a good helping of strawberries, cucumber and mint, that’s your Five a Day right there! It’s practically a health-drink, and should be available on the NHS. If you’re drinking it at Wimbeldon you’re doubly exempt as it is expected of you. If you are seen without a glass of it in your hand, officials may think you a foreign national and try to have you deported.
If the drink is Guinness or any other stout. They may have been having a laugh with the “Guinness is Good for You” advertising nonsense, but show me a woman whose mother hasn’t told them to get some stout down them if they are “run down” and I’ll show you a motherless child.
If you are a woman and you are menstruating or pre-menstrual. It doesn’t say so on the instruction leaflet inside the Feminax packet (but only because it wouldn’t probably be legal) but every girl knows they are only to be taken three times a day with a glass of white wine. Or else they don’t work. FACT. They teach that in sex ed when they divide the class up and take the girls into another room. That’s what they’re telling them in there, lads, nothing else.
At funerals. You are not allowed by law to refuse a drink at a funeral. It’s disrespectful to the deceased. In Catholic countries a drink refusal could get you stoned or run out of town.
If you’re outside in the sunshine. This goes back to the “on holiday” rule that I applied to smoking. The same applies to drinking. If you are on holiday you can have booze at any time of the day with impunity. Chances are that it’ll have fruit in it anyway, so you’re doubly exempt.
More excuses please in the comments box, please.
* My dad, who is a regular reader of the Misssives, will right now be shaking his head in a disgusted fashion..
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