Friday, 22 November 2013
I would like to apologise! The other day whilst I was sat waiting in the doctors surgery for my appointment, after what felt like 15 days of waiting, I decided to scan my Facebook account. Now most people know that I am relatively new to social networking and that coupled with my name being called out over the speaker system, right before I had chance to proof read my status, resulted in me quickly pressing the send button before I dashed off. So to clarify to those I haven't explained this to already; I was not sat in the doctors surgery with a smelly fanny but was in fact sat in the doctors surgery with a smelly granny!
A smelly pensioner would have been a better term to use and would have saved me the embarrassment that the stupid inventer of predictive text has cost me.
Ps. if anybody knows who invented predictive text pass on their name as I am going to sue!
Sunday, 3 November 2013
Friday 4th May – 9 weeks to go!
Knew when I walked into work this morning and Sarah was playing The Smiths ‘Heaven knows I’m miserable now’ that today was going to be a tuff one! So I invited her to stay with me tonight, what with it being her father’s wedding tomorrow (to that whore, not my words). I need to share some of my philosophical insights with her if she is going to get through this one!
Also apparently now that I am 31 weeks pregnant my baby is gaining weight like a ‘good en’ and unfortunately so am I, on my arse!
Saturday 5th May
Well my job with Sarah is now done. I am pleased and slightly proud to say that I have calmed her and coached her with my philosophical wisdom (just call me Aristotle) and she is now more than to ready to watch her father walk down the aisle with a woman that she detests and who she believes is responsible for sending her mother, literally schizo, skipping to the asylum (heard that she was frothing at the mouth too but I daren't muster up the courage to ask Sarah if this is true).
She can do this, I have faith, all she needed was magic and voila I have created a young woman who is capable of acting like a wise and dignified one instead of the raging loon that transpires whenever her father and whore's name is mentioned and I am now quite looking forward to attending the ceremony.
That’s the down side in my job you see, you hardly ever get to see the actual wedding day. I do get the odd invite but nowhere near as many as I would like. Maybe I should start wedding crashing!
I wonder why Sarah’s step mother to be didn’t come to my wedding boutique, the cow.
I have and I know I will live to regret it, asked my mother to fill in for me at the boutique today. She is under strict instructions that she is not allowed to fraternise with the customers! She is only there to make appointments and say please and thank you.
“I have been in this business longer than you Jenna” the silly woman said! She thinks that just because she used to call in for a cup of tea when my aunt Gladys had the shop and that she wears a hat when she attends other people’s weddings it qualifies her as an expert on everything wedding!
Going to thoroughly enjoy some wedding cake for once.
Friday, 1 November 2013
Thursday 3rd May
Bit of a bad mood today, still have days where I want to rip Flannigan's adulterous head off and shove it up Tabatha’s slaggy, ginger, hairy arse! I worry sometimes how I will explain this conundrum to my baby, I mean what will I say when he/she asks about his/her father because I refuse to swear at or in front of my child!
I hate men and I hate women who like men today and just for the record that is me speaking and not the hormones!
Friday, 4 October 2013
Wednesday 2nd May
Some people are so obsessed with celeb’s lives that they are forgetting to live their own! I have just been browsing through last week’s Hello magazine and there is an out and out war between two women (obviously over a man, why else do women argue?) This article was about all the heartbreak that a certain poor woman is going through after finding out that her hubby to be is a cheating scumbag just like Flannigan and then next to her is the ‘other woman’.
Both were laid trying to look sexy on the expensive, looking white, sheepskin rug, legs splayed all over the place, like they were waiting for the object of their cat fight to come home and partake in a threesome and at the side of each picture is an inventory of the names of the designers of the clothes the pair are wearing! Wtf!!! I can just imagine me and Tabatha in the centre page stood, back to back, leaning on each other, arms folded, me nipping myself and at the side is not a description of some nifty ninja move that I should be using on her but ‘Jenna wears Lilac dress by Primark, whilst Tabatha wears leopard print leggings from Select’ Jesus please put these women out of their misery!
Again why is nobody teaching these women the importance of education and standing on your own two feet and that when a man disrespects you on such a profound level you are supposed to tell him to piss off and never, ever let him back in your precious life, no matter how much it hurts you, you will eventually get over him because and mark my words on this one, it would be far worse if you took him back, he will do it again and how the hell will you be able to look your child in the eye if it ever goes through something similar, knowing that you have taught it to either a) if it is a girl, lay back and think of England like mummy did b) if it’s a boy that it is ok to treat women this way because daddy did it to mummy! For Christ sake have some self-respect women and please, please, please tell the magazine who is wanting to lower you to this level for the cash payment that is so not worth your dirty laundry being rinsed out internationally to go to the same place as the bastard that has put you in this position in the first place! Rant over!
Monday, 30 September 2013
Thursday 26th April
Well that didn’t last long! We had no appointments booked in from 12-2 so Sarah dared me to try on that luminous green ‘Borat’ style leotard, that we got free in a stupid men’s magazine (obviously we only bought it for the Borat leotard and not for the sexist articles and women’s titties).
Now being quite heavily pregnant I should really grow up and tell her ‘no, no way Sarah’ but I never really did like the word ‘should’; for me it implies that you are about to do something that you really do not want to do and are doing it mainly out of duty or silly, inbred, socially acceptable morals, so I thought screw it and practically had it up my legs and over by shoulders before she even finished her absurd yet imaginative request!
I walked out of the dressing room wearing it, and Sarah literally fell on the floor laughing. My bump was out on full display, the leotard barely covering my pubic hair (seriously need to get to Wendy the waxer) and stretching up to just about cover my now massive, protruding nipples.
The back of the leotard was like a thong and I proceeded to parade up and down my shop, catwalk style. I even put on a pair of white, stiletto wedding shoes and a veil, what I didn’t account for was just as I reached the counter a ‘walk-in customer’ coming through the door with the husband to be!
I couldn’t do anything, so horrifyingly, I just stood as normal as I possibly could behind my counter and in my most professional business like voice said “Hi there, can I be of any assistance?”
Sarah ran into the dressing room leaving me to handle the cringing, soul destroying, discomfort of this abhorrent situation alone but my dressing room curtain did not hide the hysterics coming from behind it.
I honestly do not know which was worst, standing there ‘Borat style, with my pregnancy bump and half of my swollen titties on display and more than a few straggly pubes, in stilettos, wearing a veil, or the fact that they acted like it was perfectly normal! What kind of people were they? She made an appointment for Saturday to come in a try some gowns on and then they left, I think I heard a snigger! Should I have booked this appointment? Did the fact that they too acted perfectly normal suggest that they were some kind of deviants? What if they now expected more than just a bridal service? Then Sarah popped out with the polaroid and said say ‘awkward’ and happily snapped away!
At least the veil partially hid my arse and I have told Sarah that next time she is trying it on!
I really must grow up and Sarah is a bad influence on me who, as my old school teachers used to say, is extremely easily led!
Sunday, 29 September 2013
Well after a long discussion with Sarah about her father, his slut, beast, whore (as she put it) and the impending doom of their vastly approaching wedding, I have done the honourable thing and agreed to be her +1.
She said 'over my dead body will I attend' (yes mine not hers!) but I persuaded her to go, even if it was just to the church and not the reception, so she would have no regrets later in life.
I mean how bad can it be? Yes there will be a few tears and maybe Sarah’s pet lip to deal with but it’s a wedding at the end of the day and if this doesn’t build bridges for her and her father then nothing will and after all, everybody loves a wedding!
Wednesday 25th April
Topic of the day at work for me and Sarah has been – would women really get married if wedding gowns did not exist?......We don’t think so and if you worked in our shop with us you would agree that the best part, for a woman, about getting married is not the thought of spending the REST OF YOUR LIFE with the man you are about to marry, because let's face it if you really thought about it objectively the thought of being with somebody, who may one day morph into a pot-bellied baldy, would have you scratching your own eyes out to avoid the sight! No the best part of this longitudinal tradition is choosing and wearing the perfect dress. If marriage required you diving out of bed to put on your regular pant suit, would you really make it to the alter? We don't think so!
We have also agreed that when we have a quiet spell, we are going to find more productive ways of spending our time at work together rather than discussing the digestive system of farm animals! And so we will, in future, be educating ourselves and each other, this means that she is not going to encourage me to silly, immature things and we most certainly will have to stop our ballroom prancing around the shop to the love songs that we have blaring out most days, that is when Sarah does not replace them with her songs of divorce.
I have been to the doctors about this breathlessness and he has taken some blood to run some routine checks. I hope everything is alright; it is scary now that I don’t just have to worry about my own health but that of my baby’s too!