Guardian Angels

Another reason I like April is because it's my anniversary...my divorce from Tweedle dumb anniversary...five years today!

Not only does this day remind me that I truly have a guardian angel but also that with time comes forgiveness..in another hundred years, I will have completely forgiven him.

I'm also pretty certain that my angel looks just like the one above...

Seriously though, I really think everything happens for a reason; every time I'm in risk of making a whopping great mistake and something (unwelcome at the time) happens to force me to resist, I know my angel's working overtime.

Today I went to get the tire fixed that I destroyed yesterday and the gentleman helping me told me that had I driven my car to Vegas with such bald tires I would have undoubtedly had an accident.

This fact only made me feel remotely better about the $500 it cost me to replace ALL FOUR tires; I know that's a small price to pay to keep my family in one piece. I did very well on the "girly eyes well up with tears chin wobble" thing when the poor sod serving me told me how much it was going to cost, and ended up getting a $100 mail in rebate and a free oil change.

My particular guardian angel works in some puzzling ways and I have to get quite creative to find the meaning behind his actions sometimes.

For example: if I'm in a potentially bad relationship the offending prospective partner might mysteriously be whisked off to prison for twelve years to sign and seal the discontinuation of our courting, or if I've broken up with a frighteningly poor choice of the male species my angel somehow arranges for him to meet a lovely gal almost instantly after we break up just to insure that I won't be tempted to take him back...and most recently, the obvious work of my GA; I didn't win the lottery on Saturday because I'm about to land an amazing job!

This is a comforting way to look at my life; for every negative there simply has to be an angel manipulated positive...right?

Really?

The kids were off school today, which meant a lovely relaxing extended weekend. The day started quite normally; we got up and had breakfast all together, then I dropped my daughter off with the Princesses Anne for her riding lesson.

I thought, as I had thirty minutes to myself, I'd drop by Fresh 'n' Easy and pick up the grub we'll need for the next few days. As I turned in to the parking lot, some dreadful woman driver decided to come out the in and caused me to swerve to the side and hit the curb rather hard, well very hard actually, hard enough to pop the damn thing and send the hub cap spinning off in to some neatly stacked trolleys.

I slowly limped my car in to the parking lot and retrieved my hubcap. I've never had to change a tire all by myself so panic set in pretty quickly...until I saw my hero in the form of a five foot tall emerald t-shirted trolley stacker by the name of Robert.

Robert was an absolute dear and offered to change my tire for me. Bless. What a sweet guy, he really went above and beyond the required level of customer service!

I thanked him profusely as he loaded my flat in to the boot of the car, then I slammed the hatchback down...unfortunately I forgot that my bike rack was still attached to the rear end of my car, and it came crashing down on my head, and knocked me out.

Yes, out cold, in the parking lot at Fresh and Easy, on the feet of a poor little man named Robert who had already gone above and beyond the call of duty for the week. I don't think I was out for very long but Robert's panic was evident when I came to whining "my legs, my legs"

Why me? Really? Why me?

"Can't you feel your legs?" he exclaimed horrified! I could feel my legs but had fallen in such a manner that they were bent up behind me with my feet up by my shoulders. As Robert kindly unraveled me from my legs I felt somewhat like a big blue Avatar being helped by a little human...oh the joys of being six foot tall!

Anyway, once I felt sure I wasn't going to fall down again I went in search of the wonderful Robert's boss and told him of the little man's heroic acts...hope he gets a promotion!

I raced back to the stables to pick up my daughter, only to find her covered in red itchy hives...it appears she's allergic to something at the palace...she insists it's not the horses!

Another one of those days!

Giddy Up

If I'm completely honest, I'm not really much of an animal person. It's not that I don't love my three cats and two dogs, I do, but had I not been in my post marriage crazy stage, I might have settled on just one cat being enough to teach the kids about caring for other living creatures.

I don't like dog saliva, or cat pooh, or animal pee, or pet hair all over my couch or favorite black dress, so I am digging deep to find tolerance of the mess my zoo are continuously making, and spend way too many hours cleaning up after them.

My daughter, however, is a true animal lover and has been since she was wee. She's suffered many a smooch with a dog and, in fact, thought she was one when she was tiny. There were months where she would spend most of her day on all fours barking instead of talking...she even got us to put her food in a bowl on the floor after she went on a hunger strike for two days.

So it's hardly surprising that she also loves horses. I am not and never have been remotely interested in horses; they're big, smelly, and really scary looking. I thought I'd managed to skip the whole horse-riding thing, but in true form, tweedle dumb took her riding on her last visit to Vegas and she's talked about nothing else since.

Ever indulgent, I found out about the equestrian centre here in Burbank and went down to book her in for an assessment. Horse people and ex-showgirls are very different breeds. After tiptoeing my way over the pot-holed horse poop filled street to get to the main office I was greeted by three very lovely women who all looked like Princess Anne, the ultimate horse lady, at different stages in her life. They all had on those dreadful jodhpur things that make your bum look triple its size and a variety of navy blue and forest green layers keeping them warm. I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt not one of them has ever worn false eyelashes or fishnet tights!

I could tell by their frosty looks and lack of hilarity at my attempted humor that telling them that I was not a "horsey" person was a mistake. But they booked my daughter in for an assessment anyway. Oh, and for a "tack" lesson too. They very kindly invited me to attend the latter as they said "your daughter might need some help at first".

What exactly was I paying them for if I had to "help" get the ruddy horse ready?

Anyway, my daughter is thankfully born to ride (and smart enough to know that if I had to touch either the horse or it's pooh she wouldn't be riding much) and therefore needed very little help whilst "tacking" her horse...all I do is stand there with a carrot incase a bribe is needed...interestingly enough I've found carrots to be the way not only to a horse's heart but to the hearts of the Princesses Anne in the office too...as long as I get out of my car swinging a bag of carrots around my head like a crazed cowboy swings his lasso they all crack an indulgent smile my way when I show up with my poor, mortified, daughter.

If it doesn't matter then I don't mind!

I'm not very good at making up my mind. I'll be the first to admit that as a member of the female kind, we have a tendency to change our minds, but that's a prerogative of being people makers. As a mother though, I really have to make up my mind on some important issues!

I change my mind often...probably because, several times in my life, I have been out of my mind. I particularly lose my mind when it comes to choosing men with whom to fall in love, and purchasing pets.

I'm a little miffed though, that many people of sound unchanged mind have such conflicting views on some very controversial issues. I do love a bit of controversy...

Why is it that people who are pro-life are also generally pro the death penalty and in complete contrast those of us who are pro-choice are against the death penalty...hello contradiction!

Why is it that seriously religious members of earth's congregation rarely use the Lord's name in vain yet those of us whose bums never meet with the pews of a church swear like troopers?

If we don't think he exists why (in Heaven's name) do we insist upon talking about him all the time?

These are just a sampling of the questions I find myself trying to answer as my children grow minds of their own. I'm most thankful for the Internet and its search engines which replace the "I don't know" response with "let me look it up!" but in the words of Bucks Fizz (if you don't know who they are-Google them!) it's really time I was "makin' my mind up!"

Mind over matter indeed; when I eventually figure out what really matters I hope I'm in possession of my mind!

Give 'em the Old Razzle Dazzle!

While I always thought it was imperative to encourage a healthy imagination in my children, I think I might have taken it a little too far. Every time my kids have to be costumed they expect a creation fit for Cirque du bloody Soleil!

If I learnt nothing more from my years as a showgirl I at least learnt that when in doubt cover it with sequins and feathers! I put this law of showgirl in to effect today when creating my daughter's "Greek Day" costume. I covered her helmet in sequins and trimmed her shield in feathers. She will be Athena the goddess of bedazzle.

I didn't used to think that kids were all that expensive. Of course they needed feeding and watering but the only really big expenses were toys they got for Christmas and Birthdays.

Until recently...

In the last month my son has started shaving, bring on the electric shaver, shaving balm, zit cream, and after shave, ka ching! A week later he passed his driving test; tweedle dumb and I taught him to drive so I saved on the cost of lessons, the license was a mere three dollars, but my insurance DOUBLED!!!! What should I do? Say "congratulations on getting your permit baby, but you're not getting a car and you can't drive mine either?" I think not...so ka ching!

Then today my daughter got braces. What an experience! I sat in a room and actually allowed a man to torture my twelve year old. I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from slapping him! He glued metal to the precious teeth we've scrubbed for nearly twelve years, then made my baby's mouth busy with expanders, retainers and braces to give her that all important culturally American smile.

Then I paid him four thousand dollars.

There should be a savings fund for braces let alone college!

At least sequins, glitter, and feathers are still pretty inexpensive frills to keep the babes (and me) entertained!

Fresh and Easy

No this is not a blog about the kind of man I'm looking for...it's about a monumental event that is happening right here in Burbank in less than 24 hours.

I'm very, VERY excited about tomorrow, because tomorrow my life will forever change, because tomorrow Fresh and Easy finally opens a store in Burbank!

If you haven't yet heard of Fresh and Easy, it's a store that recently came to America, that carries reasonably priced British themed foods as well as standard groceries. It's owned by a British company that has a chain of supermarkets in England called Tesco's.

You can check them out at www.freshandeasy.com if you subscribe to their site they send you coupons every couple of weeks too!

The opening of this store makes me very happy as it carries some of the foods I miss most from the homeland such as; Heinz baked beans, Hp Sauce, Salad Cream, English Cheese, Tea bags, and Marmite.

Before Fresh and Easy came to the English citizens of America we paid through the nose to get our hands on a little taste of home at "Specialty British" stores.

Fresh and Easy is also very much less expensive than the regular chain grocery stores; it is a "no frills" store but saves by hiring a minimal staff and having customers check themselves out. They have a section in their fridges where they reduce prices on foods that are about to expire...great for budgeting families!

So tomorrow morning I'll be in line at 10am for the grand opening with my $10 welcome coupon in my hand ready to jump some tea bags and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps!

Nip, Tuck

One of my loveliest friends in Los Angeles takes me out for a wonderful breakfast once a month. We go to a very fancy restaurant in West Hollywood, or WeHo as the gay community fondly calls it.

I love going there as the decor is beautiful, the menu delicious, and the service impeccable.

The scenery, or people watching, however, is rather bizarre. The restaurant is filled almost uniquely with impeccably groomed gay men (absolutely delightful) and women in their late forties or fifties...at least that's how old I think they are.

Either they all see the same surgeon or they all ordered the same mask...I mean face; teeny tiny nose, slightly slanty eyes, and remarkably pouty lips; somewhere between Charro and Joan rivers. These eerily clone like ladies have unbelievably smooth complexions, very little facial expression, and enormous difficulty drinking liquids. I have to wonder how their husbands tell them apart when they go out in a group!

The really scary part is that they forgot to match their necks to their faces so below the chin they look like lizards, that is of course until you reach their chests which are like boulders on their little stick bodies... they're all skinny little things probably because they've lost their ability to chew...now that I think about it shelf boobs must come in handy to catch the food and drink that never quite makes it in to their mouths!

They all seem very lovely and very sweet, but I'm never quite sure if they're very happy as their expression hovers somewhere between a grin and a frown.I do see the envy in their eyes though when they see me inhale my whole meal in mere seconds.

Anyway, my point is, I'm never doing that!

My breakfasts at this jushy joint make me forget my clumsiness and feel graceful and co-ordinated, they are like therapy sessions for my self esteem, make me grateful for the lines life's laughter and worry have left behind, and help nurture my sometimes unstable relationship with gravity.

Ode to friends

So Google AdSense, the people who place ads on my site have decided I have too many friends in too many different countries who read my blog...I thought that was the point!

Anyway, I'm not giving up on the blog but I might have to switch the way you access it sometime in the near future.

I will never have too many friends! Friends are wonderful. It's fascinating to me that friends come in to our lives and when we first meet them we have no idea of the impact they will make on our future.

I have many friends who when I first met I didn't particularly like...I doubt they liked me very much either as I can be a little outspoken and opinionated...no really I can!

I have friends that I haven't seen for years but when we talk on the phone it feels like we just saw each other an hour ago, friends I went to ballet school with when I was three who I'm fortunate to still have in my life, friends that saw me through my awkward teens and are still willing to talk to me today, friends that I first worked with in Paris then our paths crossed in Las Vegas and now Los Angeles, friends I've danced on slot machines with, friends I used to go to dance college in London with who now live ten minutes away from my home in Burbank, friends I lived with on ships who continue to help me raise my family of two kids, two dogs and three cats, and friends who taught me how to become an American whilst holding my hand through the ups and the downs.

All of these people that I am proud to call my friends, and you know who you are, make life just that much richer, they all indulge me every year on my birthday and support me through my crazy ideas...a little too much for Google I guess!

On the first day I met you, each and every one of you I had no idea what an amazing impact you would make on my life but I'm so very glad our paths crossed.