My Norovirus Story

So apparently about 1 Million people have had the Norovirus. I've had it, Mark's had it. I often lie on the couch pondering weather an illness like this is the first sign of the Apocalyptic Outbreak to ruin us all, and would I give my husband up should the time come when the army cordons off the streets and asks us to hang white towels in our windows to removed the infected from inside.

He's in here! Take him!

I like to think that I wouldn't let them take my husband away, but you never know - depending on my mood and any unforgivable transgressions; like eating my last Cherry Ripe, and making me use the dodgy small crampy couch. Off to the death camp you go!

But the good news is that we've both had the virus now and are forever immune (in my head anyway). I can picture myself now, walking through the throngs of people lying on the street in their own puddles of diarrhea, and i'll be like "don't shit on my sneakers" whilst I go for a nice brisk walk in Hampstead Heath. I had the flu jab bitches! I am like Superman compared to this virus.

I wasn't anywhere near superman when I had the virus though.

The fact that I could get the virus in the first place perplexes me because I have such high standards of hand to mouth hygiene that Mark is constantly calling me the worlds biggest nerd for using my knuckles to put my PIN Code in at banks, and using my elbows to open doors.

And that leads me to the story of myself accidentally shitting on the Eurostar platform at Gare du Nord Paris.

All morning I had been feeling a tad 'queasy' but nothing that would warrant me not getting on the train to Paris to meet up with Mark. I wore a tiny dress and a flimsy ill-fitting g-string and was on my way! When I arrived in Paris, Mark's train was 'retard' (late) from Amsterdam so I had about an hour to kill by myself in the train station. I casually swanned around, listening in on the crazy conversations happening between the homeless frenchies who live in the train station. I eventually decided to go wait on the platform as Marks's train was due any minute. I felt the urge to fart so took the fart stance of one leg cocked slightly higher than the other, and let loose what was supposed to be a tiny elf like 'Poot' that would disintegrate after one-second of being airborne.

Instead I strained and due to the looseness of my g-string and the pressure in my bowels, rather than a lady like non-fart, a bit of poo flew out and landed underneath my feet on the platform.

I did what any normal person would do. I relocated myself to elsewhere on the platform. When Mark arrived I pointed out the poo like it was a Parisian Historical Hotspot "and that's where Marie Antoinette was arraigned, and that's where I shat on the platform"

Truth be told, I never let a little thing like accidental poopage ruin a good day out, so we did cultural parisian things like the Helmut Newton exhibition, and taking in the sights of the 11th Arrondissement, and then finally a quick trip to Jim Morrison's grave - it was in the graveyard that I told Mark I couldn't hold it in any longer was going shit on some holocaust survivors tomb if we didn't find a toilet soon. After that we went back to the hotel for our 'dirty weekend' which consisted of me shivering in a feverish haze, running to the bathroom every 30 seconds.

rockin the diarrhea look

Outrageously Ignorant Statements by the Childless

that is me! childless. for now anyway, because i don't think being 'with child' makes one an expert in all things parenting, I forget i'm pregnant half the time anyway and someone will have to interrupt me whilst i'm about to stuff my face with a rare beef burger to say "are you sure you can eat that whilst pregnant" and I have to pull the burger out of my jaws with a knowing "ahh i was just testing you" look on my face.

Truth be told, I know nothing about; pregnancy, childbirth, babies, or raising children. But that's not to say I don't have very strong held opinions about; pregnancy, childbirth, babies and raising children.

And one of my strong-held opinions is that people should shut the hell up 90% of the time.

Since telling my family that I am pregnant, every time I speak to a certain family member the first thing that comes out of their mouth is "are you fat yet?" what kind of stupid and rude question is that? do I ask them "are you completely bald yet?" or "you still an interminable bore yet?"

I would never ask a pregnant woman that, because they probably are fat and if they're anything like me are in strong denial about that fact. It's all water weight as far as I'm concerned, there is no way it's humanly possible to drink the amount of liquids I do and the very little peeing that eventuates from it, where is all the pee going? is my foetus swimming around in a giant pee pool?

I just think we need to let pregnant women do their own thing without making them homidical, which let's face it, everything makes me homidical these days. ie; Why would you think it's ok to eat an entire bag of pistachio nuts whilst sitting behind during a documentary about 3 ten year old boys who were murdered, and the 3 men who spent 18 years in prison wrongly convicted of the crime? this is not a movie for pistachio nut eating!!!!!!!!! Do you Tom Cruise's ugly mug anywhere on the screen?

And for that kindness in return I think that people with children should lay off the whole "my life is so much more fulfilling than yours" shtick.

I will never be one of those parents who laments at how her childless friends can never know the true meaning of happiness because only a child can bring true happiness into their fruitless and self-indulgent lives. True happiness for me is realising I have the entire series of Dawson's Creek on LoveFilm and I have 6 non-working days stretching ahead of me, whilst I sit without the bondages of underwear, stuffing my face with baked bean & cheese jaffles. Happiness!

The "Jolly" Season. Nope.

I think Tard the "Grumpy Cat Meme" pretty much sums up what it's like being pregnant at Christmastime.

This is normally the time of year for christmas parties, christmas dresses, and slinking into work at 11am with a hangover and a bacon and egg roll with your last night mascara goop fusing your eyelids shut.

Not for me.

Instead I have to remain sober, whilst all the other idiots who I can normally only put up with under the guise of alcohol have a fabulous time. At last year's christmas party we were so smashed we were all taken hostage at my friends house in Kentish Town. Spent an hour getting in and out of a cab because one of the group was too drunk to believe they were too drunk to function, and tried swimming across the floor of a Gordon Ramsey pub, and started a knife throwing competition at my desk at work. It was soooo much fun!!!!!!!

This year................ I was home by 6.20pm and watched 4 episodes of Downton Abbey.

Whhoooooooooppppp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's not even the worst part, because truth be told, I fecking love Downton Abbey. The worst part is being the sober person listening to drunk people ramble and not being able to ramble back at them.

Drunk people think its socially acceptable to put their hands all over your belly even though i'm hardly showing at all, and the only reason my belly is sticking out is because I ate 10 of the delicious mini-burgers that were being carried around by the snooty caterers. That's burger poo you're all rubbing! not baby!!!

Drunk people think it's acceptable to bring up a group conversation the topic of "so how fat are you going to get??" it's not fat!!!!! it's amniotic fluid!!!!!!!!! (i'm not in denial. you're in denial).

It ain't no fun at the christmas party.

Unreasonable Fits of Rage

It has been said that during pregnancy ones hormones go a bit crazy, that I can attest to given my incredibly short temper and regularly flying into out of proportionate expletive laden fits of rage at seemingly insignificant encounters.

Things that have sent me into a fit of rage recently;

Mark opening up the can of Milo. That's my Milo! I always have a glass of milo before work, British Milo is shit and can't compare to Australian Milo, you keep your thieving hands away from my Milo. What was most extraordinary about this outburst was that I was able to hear the can of milo being opened from literally the other end of the house.

The runner at work calling me a diva for not wanting to lift a 30kg hamper, and insulting the size of my bump. Let's just say he got a whole earful of FUCK YOU's!!!!!!!! before I calmed down, made him move the hamper, and then rubbed his shoulder in apology later that night.

Calling the runner at work a Tasteless Idiotic Moron for going out and buying the wrong Christmas cards to send out out with the said "Fuck You" Hampers. I made him him walk 10 minutes in the rain and send me pictures of christmas cards until I was satified he had found the right ones.

Mark interrupting movies we're watching to fill in pointless trivia that I don't care about - ie: in the Dark Knight Comic book, Batman has his back broken by Bane... ?? and?? could I give a shit?? It almost ruined the whole movie for me.

A young director walking into the office and telling me I am dressed like Zooey Deschanels character from Elf. I replied that he looked like a rapist and a murderer and the only reason he would dress like that of a morning is that he probably is a rapist and a murderer, and a little bit of a fisherman, with no mirror and bad eyesight. Truth be told I probably did look like Zooey Deschanels character from Elf, given I was dressed for the Christmas Party, wearing a stripey dress, red shoes and an Elf Hat.

At the work Christmas Party when someone on the other table asked me in a drunken rude way to give him the camera so that 'people at their table could take pictures too' (as if the table I was on, was taking a million fun photos of us having a better time than the other table) he barely caught the camera as I lobbed it at his head from across the room.

Being told at the chemist that they couldn't sell me Thrush Cream whilst pregnant- so I was faced with an never ending eternity of an itchy as hell weekend before I could see my GP and get a prescription. I had a mild meltdown at the cashier and practically grabbed the guy by the neck shoving him into the Nurofen stand screaming in his face "what the hell am I supposed to do now then huh!!!!!!!!!!!?!??"

Flying into a paranoid rage at the way someone had addressed an envelope to me "what point are they trying to prove addressing me as my full name on an envelope?!?! I'll call my child whatever I goddam want!"

The cleaners at work coming in and trying to spray and clean my desk whilst I was sitting and working at it. "are you trying to kill me with your toxic chemicals?!?!?!" and opening all the windows in the office even though its minus 2 degrees outside.


Ok, so some of those situations were a tad of an overreaction. Only 5 more months of this!! Lucky You ....World!!!!

The Flies and the Bees

There is one thing I wish for my child, and that is to grow up in a world with bees. Because let's face it - without bees there won't be a world to speak of.

I often sit at work discussing with other really busy collageues possible end of the world scenarios, and our plans to survive the impending apocalypse.

Meteor, Solar Storm, Virus Outbreak, Earthquake, Volcano.

These would all be hard to survive. Especially when you factor zombies into the equation. Basically none of the upperclass would survive a technological breakdown of communication, electricity, and sanitation.

Take Mark Francis from Made in Chelsea. He's not going to survive ten seconds in a post-apocalyptic society. Your Butler might be able to make a nice platter of cheeses, but I doubt they know how to wield or discover any high end weaponry, nor would they be willing to eat out of the garbage, wheres I eat things out of my own garbage at least once a week, as long as it's still on the top and not covered by a dirty pad or anything.

Mark Francis - not surviving anything. He'd probably kill himself if he woke up and his hairdryer was broken.

Basically you need to know that you can without pain of conscious shoot the person sitting across from you right now. I could. If it was a matter of me eating the last of the tinned goods then i'm afraid you better kiss your ass goodbye.. (if anyone asked, i'd just say you looked a bit zombie-ish. no one wants to share their tinned goods with someone who might go zombie on them. what a waste.)

And whilst I definitely think that the world could one day be headed for some unforseen apocalypic event, the one thing that weighs on my mind a lot of the time are the Bees... or the lack of bees.

I'm sure by now most people have heard about the mysterious disappearance of bees over the past decade. It's quite disturbing. To think that we might not have them around to help polinate the planet is pretty pant shittingly terrifying.

To this end I've always been a friend to bees. If a bee wants to sting me then so be it. Sting away and thanks for the flowers man. However there isn't a lot of things one can do in the endeavour to help the bees except becoming a bee keeper. I have a window box and always encourage bees to hang out in it... like setting up a Pollen Bar and a Strip Bee. (not really).

I do like to watch the bees in my window box, but I think the season of the bee is over, as we now are heading into winter, and there will be no more polinsation this year.

or WILL THERE!!!

I witnessed some very interesting phenomenon this weekend, interesting, disturbing, and maybe life changing phenomenon.

I saw flies hanging out in my flower garden rubbing themselves all over my flowers!!!!!! Granted they didn't seem to know what they were doing, it's like they were copying the behaviour of bees, but not understand the full process.

Do you think that maybe flies are here to save us? I mean really what good is a fly anyway? Spreads disease, makes picnics unbearable, makes it hard to see africans through the fly-haze all over their faces.

Perhaps flies are the ultimate underdogs. Flies could be the answer to everything, they are essentially Bees in Emo outfits. Maybe we've been underestimating them this whole time. If a fly can carry faeces from a dog poo to a dinner plate, then surely they can carry some pollen from one flower in need to another.

So perhaps the next time you see a fly, nudge it towards the flowers and put the pesticide down, because that's what may have caused this bee-pocalypes in the first place.

FLIES FOR THE FUTURE!!!

Stretchy Pant Heaven

I generally don't like clothes shopping at the best of times, but given it's Christmas it just makes it ten thousand times worse. It's also no fun when you can't buy 99% of what is instore.

Glitter Hotpants -nope
Skinny Jeans - nope
More Hotpants - nope (what's with all the hotpants? it's winter?!)
Skintight Dresses - nope

nope nope nope, none of that, and the whole time I am assaulted in the ears by incessant Rihanna music blared far too loud to be anything other than torturous. I am here for one reason only, and I might just kill the next person who gets in the way of me getting what I want.

Stretchy Pants!!!!!!!

And not just any stretchy pants. I'm talking maternity stretchy pants. Pants that are disguised to look like pants, but have a stretchy waistband.

OOOOOOMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGG

they are like the best invention in the world. ever.

I would even go so far as recommending them to my non pregnant friends.

Do you ever sit at your desk at work and have to undo a button when you've just wolfed down a lunch big enough for two? Not anymore. Stretchy Pants take away all that tight constricting guilt.

Do you ever wish you could wear your pyjamas to work? Stretchy pants are the second best thing.

I don't think i'll ever be able to give them up.

STRETCHY PANTS FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!