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The Consequences of Death and Cocaine

I promised myself that I wouldn’t write about this but I can’t get away from it.  Everywhere I turn is overflowing with it so now it’s my turn.   Just to start you off I’m going to let you know how I already felt about it.  Most of you probably already know just how against drugs I am, cocaine in particular.  For various reasons, here are a couple of them.  My best friend ruined my life by suddenly committing suicide because he owed money from drugs he was supposed to sell.  He didn’t even take drugs himself.  I didn’t even know he was selling.  He was the happiest person I knew (or so I thought) and I’m so mad at him for wasting his life for a scumbag dealer.  I’ve never gotten over it.  One of my very good friends ruined her own life by taking drugs before she knew she was pregnant and eventually lost the baby that should have been my godchild.  She will never get over that.  Her dealer boyfriend threatened to burn my house down and cut my brother’s head off because she went out one night without him and he got high and wrongly thought she was with me.  I know young fathers who have been taken to the mountains, had their tattoos cut off and shot in the back of the head because they got caught selling (and therefore lost) the drugs that were going to make them a little money for their family at Christmas.  I know the devastated mothers, girlfriends and fatherless children left behind.  They will never get over it.

I’m caught in the middle because I know the families of the people that snorted cocaine and then decided to pull those triggers.   I have to be careful who I invite to special occasions because it could turn into a fucking bloodbath if somebody turns up and spots the father of the man who murdered his brother.  I’ve been asked so many questions because people are looking for vengeance…and I don’t blame them but hurting innocent people in retaliation is never the way. 

I’ve been threatened a million times by people who are only brave because they are on coke that night.  I’m not afraid of anyone.  Nobody scares me but I should be scared because they aren’t afraid either – as long as they are snorting.  Anything can happen then.  There was a report before that said most gun crime was committed while the person was high on coke.  I well believe it.   And that’s even before the health risks both physical and mental.  People can die almost instantly, they can be poisoned by what the coke is cut with, they can die after a couple of years, they can die because of the continued stress on their hearts, their personalities can change, they can appear psychopathic even sociopathic, becoming emotionless and aggressive. 

I don’t really give a shit if this sounds like I’m standing on my soapbox.  I don’t give two fucks.  Yeah I’ve had bad experiences, so what?  What about the people that I don’t know personally?  What about that party where a couple of cokeheads were refused entry only for them to come back and shoot through the windows killing a 21 year old mother?  What about the innocent people that get shot because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time?  It’s one thing when the scumbags are only killing each other but now it could happen to anyone.  Bump into somebody on the street and who knows what could happen these days.  Drugs are involved in everything now.   It’s slowly eating away at my country once again.  It’s no longer the poor areas either.  Everywhere is getting a look in.  Anyone could be touched by it.

So, after that unexpected rant, this is what my actual post is really about!  Yesterday was the funeral of one of Ireland’s most well known models, Katy French.  She recently turned 24, a week before she died she admitted that she had been taking cocaine for the past five years but that sort of life was over for her.  She warned people of the risks of taking cocaine.  A couple of days later she was in a coma.  Of course the media (and everyone else) jumped on the idea that she died from cocaine use.  She had a series of small heart attacks and her body basically couldn’t keep going from the stress.  I think it’s terrible that people made these assumptions before her family could even start to cope with the idea.  It has been said that traces of cocaine were found in her blood but even if she hadn’t taken it that day or night, her heart had still been weakened from five years of use.  People are wondering why she said she was done with cocaine only a couple of days before this but I’m sure she thought she was.

I have to back up a bit here.  This year in particular, the focus is on cocaine use in Ireland.   Please read that article to really understand what it is like here.  There has been a huge effort to bring awareness to the dangers.  In the last week alone an investigation came to light that said cocaine traces was found in over 90% of the toilets of pubs, clubs and workplaces in Ireland.  Read that article to learn more about Katy and recent events.  Every single day in the newspapers and on the news are warning articles and items about the epidemic of cocaine in Ireland.  A couple of weeks before Katy French came into the picture, there was an incident at a party where cocaine use left a couple of people in comas which turned out to be fatal. 

Ireland has a population of around four million people.  Four million people.  That’s a very small number in comparison to most countries.  For a couple of people to die in the one week from using cocaine makes a huge impact.  Or at least it should.  But it didn’t.  Those men in Waterford died and nobody batted an eyelid.  Gangland heads are getting shot over here on a regular basis and nobody cares.  I’ve heard people say about that party in Waterford things like, “ah, it was only a bad batch.”  Wtf, your next line could be a ‘bad batch” you gobshite!  Oh, but wait…the toxicology reports on Katy French have said that the last cocaine she snorted was pure.  What was that about bad batches?

I’m getting to my point, stay with me here…So we all know what the dangers are.  It’s thrown in our face constantly by the media.  I mean there is a concentrated effort on informing people.  Not just the possible instant effects but the long term effects too.  Katy warned people about them before she died.  But nobody cares.  Why is that?  Nobody wants to know.  Nobody wants to hear it.  Nobody wants to hear about the consequences.  Until now.  Until a pretty, blonde, famous model has her life snuffed out.  Suddenly, everybody is shocked.  I’ve even heard people say that it’s put them off touching cocaine for life.  This is the consequence of her death.  This is what it took for people to pay attention.  A young girl had to die for people to sit up and listen.   I hate that it has to be this way and I hate saying this but if it saved one person’s life then she didn’t die for nothing.  I feel so sorry for her family and the families of everybody else that is left behind.  But I can’t feel sorry for people who take drugs.  They know exactly what they are doing and they are doing it to themselves.   I hate that but not as much as I hate the people getting them hooked.

Can I just say that I have NEVER once been offered cocaine.  By anyone.  I have never been offered any kind of drugs except hash in the pub and once a school friend of mine asked me to split an E with her.  Other than that, nobody has ever tried to get me to take drugs.  That says one of two things to me.  Either they know by the look of me that they’ll be on the receiving end of a box in the mouth 🙂 or people have to go looking for it.  People who actually know me already know that they won’t be spending time with me if they are off their heads on coke.  Just for the record Ireland is supposed to one of the top cocaine using countries in Europe and one of the cheapest.  It’s freely available to those who want it and people from all walks of life use it.  If my children grow up to use it I will be both devastated and ashamed.  My heart would break if my children took drugs, I don’t know what I would do. 

I’m glad that young people in particular are taking notice of what could happen but I wonder how long it will last.   There has been such a flood of awareness over the last week, it’s been amazing but that kind of attention can’t be maintained.  So we will all probably be reading about more young dead people over the holidays.  Isn’t life great?

I know this is a horrible post but I don’t really care.  I’m sick of the whole thing and I feel better after writing it.  I know that what I say doesn’t change anything for anyone else in this world.  But I feel relieved now for getting it off my chest.  It pisses me off when young people with severe health problems would love to have the chance at life that so many people are wasting.  I’ve depressed myself, I might do a meme later to cheer myself up 😉

 Edit:  I just read this and thought you might like a less hysterical calmer point of view 😉

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If Money Was No Object

I saw a little meme on Mel’s blog.    Your poor husband by the way Melissa!!  Anyway, it’s to name five things you would do if you had unlimited amounts of money.  Whaddya know, it’s one of my favourite things to talk about!!  I have lots I want to post today so for now you’re getting a two for one deal and I promise not to post any depressing thoughts on a Monday!

 If I had unlimited amounts of money:

 1.   I would make everyone I know a millionaire.  A woman in Limerick won the Euromillions, it was over 100 million euro.  I forget exactly how much but anyway, I love to think that if I had won that sort of money, I would have been able to share it with my nearest and dearest.  Imagine making everyone you care about wealthy.  That gives me a real thrill.  Makes me feel all warm and happy 🙂   Obviously the kids would get more than anyone else and there is no way on this green earth that either of my children’s uncles would get it all in the one go.  Feckin’ wasters.

2.   I would buy Shelbourne football club.  Mr. Claire would buy Kildare County and we would see who could win after throwing loads of money into Irish football.  I might throw the G.A.A. a bone too but we’ll see.

 3.   I would pay the vet bill for the animal pound, Paws.  They are always looking for help with that.  Actually, I would put a shitload of money into an account and donate regularly to charities anonymously.  And I would go over to the fecking third world countries meself with bloody cows and goats and whatnot and build them water pumps and teach them how to fecking well fish.  At least I would know it was really happening and not being given to corrupt governments.  Jaysus aren’t we cynical today?  I’d pay a billion to the first person who thought of a cure for an incurable disease and I would make sure that every orphanage in the entire world was a kick ass place to be.  Yes, I dream a little too much…

4.   I would set up a publishing company.  Only for unpublished and new writers.  Successful writers can feck off somewhere else.  I’d set up a magazine and an e-zine that paid really, exceptionally well and I’d finance some free to enter contests as well as give money to schools to encourage creativity in students.  Feck that, I’d set up a recording studio as well for the many unsigned Irish bands going around.  You know what?  I would rock the world if I had unlimited amounts of money.

5.  I would be completely selfish too mind you.  I would buy Mr. Claire a whole stable of racehorses and a couple of hot cars that should be on the after version of Pimp My Ride.  I’d buy an island in a warm place and build homes on it for everyone I know.  That would be class!  I would buy every cd, book, dvd and game that ever existed.  I would get clarinet lessons again and piano lessons AND I would get my nails done.  A lot.   And I would organise a HUGE blogger party and ship the lot of yis over to my island for a very long holiday 😉

 Okay so I sort of cheated there but you get the drift.  If I had unlimited amounts of money, I could spend a whole lot of it 😛

 By the way!  Thanks to Aimee for my blog award, I’ll get around to passing it on at some stage!!

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Moving House In Pain

Yesterday, myself and Mr. Claire were talking and on the spur of the moment, without thinking even five minutes into the future, he got me hosting and the like.  I spent the whole day looking at a complete copy of this blog on the wrong another domain name and contemplated if I really should move house.  Just to point out, I had no clue what I was doing and did things the long, hard, wrong way.  Obviously.  This is me.  He kept saying to me, we’ll get somebody to do it for you.  I’m stubborn.  I don’t like that kind of help.   Regardless of this, it just didn’t feel right.  So eventually, I decided to stay here and use the hosting and the like to learn how to do everything myself with a test site.  I’m an idiot.  I know this.  I hate when things aren’t perfect and I hate when I don’t feel at home.  I can’t read my posts over because I know I’ll just edit them constantly.  Isn’t that sad?  And I won’t comment on a blog more than once that doesn’t feel…comfy.  I have a wierd mind sometimes, I admit it.

 So, basically, I wanted to tell you that I made a decision that will make absolutely no difference to your lives 🙂

It is now the 10th of December and my carefully thought out Christmas shopping plan has pretty much fallen apart.  Ah well.  I can avoid everyone over Christmas and shop in January if I have to 🙂  Mr. Claire has been out of work since Thursday because he hurt his back.  He’s pretty useless to have around at the moment.  (Damnit, just remembered he won’t ever read that so I’m going to have to tell him I said it instead.  It just loses some of its effect that way.  I keep telling him I have no sympathy for his pain because he didn’t for me both times I was pregnant.  He will never live down the day he admitted he thought I was faking it during my first pregnancy.  Toerag.  I had morning sickness nearly every single day I was pregnant and a pinched nerve in my back.  It wasn’t exactly fun.

Sometimes we play argue over what hurts more and I always say nothing can beat childbirth.  But who can tell?  I’d love for just one man to get pregnant and give birth just so we can compare pain levels.  Maybe they could handle it better.  I doubt it though.  Women are pretty much preparing for it their whole lives while men tend to get shot down by a cold.  Oh, yes I can generalize.  It’s my blog.

As for the most excellent driving machine that keeps cutting out, our local mechanic was able to guess exactly what car we had just by the description of the problem yet he can’t fix it and told us to go elsewhere.  Wtf?  I was always under the impression that mechanics could solve any car problem but apparently not.  Apparently, some of them must be specialists.  Who knew?  I used to work in a place that taught mechanics.  My boss there had planned on turning me into a computer teacher but I left before I was old enough.  I know some of you are sniggering at the thoughts of me teaching computers but back then I hadn’t donated my brain cells to my children.  🙂  Isn’t it strange though how life can so quickly change?  One event made me leave that job, I wonder what I would be doing if I had stayed there.  Is there anything you’ve done that you wonder what would have happened had you made a different choice?

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Lucky Mix

Do you know what my favourite things were when I was a kid?  Okay, one of them anyway.  Lucky Bags!  They were so not worth it but I loved them!  The title just gave me a flashback of them, sorry!

 I have to say a couple of things today!  I was on Cavantucky and was directed to a Google alternative.  If you want a more Irish feel to your searches please try Doogle, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on!   Pleeeeeease take a look at it, pleeeeeease 😉

Next on the agenda is Cardiogirl!  If you haven’t already, check out her blog and take a little look and a listen to the audio comment widget.  I beg of you, leave a voice message!!  I got such a kick out of that thing yesterday, I’m lovin’ it!  I was so hyper yesterday and I still haven’t calmed down!

 I can’t even think straight now, I completely forget what I had intended to blog about.  You lucky things, you!  Erm…OH!!  Mr. Claire is sort of hinting at coming around to the baby thing, of course you all will be the first to know 😉  I don’t mind waiting a little longer for Number Three though so I won’t be mad if he still wants to wait a while.  Um…The Princess now has eight teeth, four teeth came down together, the poor little thing and The Little Man has now decided that Spiderman boxer shorts and a pink hairband are stylin’!

So, that’s all for now…if I remember what the hell I was going to post, I might do another waffle session later.  Take care everyone, hope you all have a beautiful day 😉

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Getting Lost at Home

Yesterday was the freakiest day ever.  We had planned on going Christmas shopping early with the kids as well as bringing them to see Santy but Mr. Claire changed his mind because the Little Man didn’t have his haircut.  Not that it would make much difference even when the child’s hair is cut it still manages to look moppy.  So at the last minute, he asked his family to babysit while we went out shopping for the kid’s toys and clothes for Christmas.  They agreed (they don’t see the kids often) so we set out on the long drive there.  They live in the next county and it usually takes about an hour and a half or two hours at most to get there.

So, we started driving, I kept saying that I had a baaaad feeling about driving that day.   The car started its new trick of cutting out every time he braked and he soon realised that the traffic was…not good.  So he does what every man I know does.  Finds a different way to go.  Why is that most men can’t sit still in a bit of traffic, they have to keep moving?  No matter how long it takes them, they won’t just sit there and wait for a couple of minutes, they have to try every single alternative option.  As long as they’re moving, they’re happy.  Even if the moving consists of reversing and turning around only to end up in the place with began!  It’s very annoying because without fail, it takes longer than it would have if we had just waited.

So after about 20minutes of ducking and diving around traffic jams, Mr. Claire decides to go a brand new way.  And gets lost.  Can I just say that it is hard to get lost between Dublin and Kildare.  I hate asking for directions but I was willing to stop by some coppers and ask them the way.  “No,” he growled back at me.  Sorrrrreeeeeee!

Eventually (after quite a few false starts) things begin to look familiar to him and we find ourselves on  the right route to Kildare.  Then the heavens decide to open.  The rain lashed down on us.  I have never been scared in a car with Mr. Claire before but I have never experienced anything like yesterday!  The cars in front were unleashing waves of puddles that were lashing against the windscreen.  You should have seen his little face concentrating.   Bless!  Mucky water continuously spraying against the windscreen does not equal safety.  And myself and the Little Man weren’t improving matters by singing, “We better run, run, run, the storm is on it’s way,” over and over and over again.  Mr. Claire retaliated by refusing to play any cd other than Garth Brooks for the whole day.  I learned my lesson…

So at about 5pm we finally got to his mother’s house.  He made us walk through mucky grass to get to her front door.  Toerag.

We dropped the kids off, as usual, the Little Man was ecstatic at getting away from me while the Princess screamed her head off and had to be forcibly removed from my person.  Free at last, Mr. Claire and I frolicked to the car jumping for joy.  We went to Newbridge and bought the most amazing clothes for the Princess.  She’s so freaking cute in them.  Not the point!  A right dozebag pulled out in the middle of the road right in front of ongoing traffic.  I thought Mr. Claire was going to get out and be all bionic man and chase the car down the road in a rage.  He was really pissed because we missed crashing into the back of that eejit’s car by inches.  A chorus of beeping made that car shoot down the road away from everyone.  We went to Naas and bought toys in Smyths.  It was a bit crap.  I’m very disappointed.  I can’t get the stupid boys version of the Little Tykes camera I planned to get him.  Everywhere only stocks poxy pink ones.  Do they think boys don’t like taking photos?  Toerags.

The dinner Mr. Claire had promised me that morning ended up being in a chipper but it was lovely so I’m not going to complain.  Anyway, we set off from Naas to Kildare Town.  From where Mr. Claire used to work to where Mr. Claire used to live.  And he managed to get lost.   Again.

I don’t fecking know how the hell he managed to get lost between Naas and Kildare Town.  I don’t know how many miles apart they are but they are close and it’s like one straight road through!  Even I know my way and I am shit at directions!!  We ended up on this long arse road that went on FOREVER.  In the wrong direction.  I started getting the feeling that we would never see our children again.  He had this horrible look on his face that plainly said, “please don’t start bitching at me right now, please!”

We eventually get ourselves off that road and discover we are miles in the wrong direction but at least we can find our way back.  So we drive through all of these poxy, bendy, twisty lanes with no light whatsoever and what does the fecking car do?  Keep cutting out, leaving us for a couple of seconds each time in the pitch black!  It was scary shit.  Mr. Claire is a great driver and managed to avoid crashing but it was a close call a good few times yesterday!  If I had been in the car with anyone else, I would have gotten out and walked.  I have never been scared in the car with Mr. Claire before but disaster was chasing us yesterday!

 We got back to the kids in one piece.  His family wouldn’t even believe me that he had gotten lost in Naas.  It’s seriously unbelieveable…Then when we had arrived home, his brother rang to see if we were okay because a truck had overturned on the road we had just driven down.  All in all, a creepy day!  All that to get some bloody Christmas shopping done!  We got home at around 11pm, exhausted.   But at least we’ve started getting things in for Christmas.  We got our boxes of biscuits and tins of chocolates as well as our boxes of crisps.  It wouldn’t be Christmas without those! 

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Sins Of Our Fathers – Part One

Nature vs. Nurture.   Nurture vs. Nature. 

I know most of what I write is basically…fluff.  But my interests do lie in other areas too.  I can enjoy cartoons AND reading about genetics whilst maintaining the same I.Q.  But don’t worry; this post is going to be a bit of fluff too, phew!  But as per usual, it’s a long one, run now, while you have a chance!  By the way, I wrote this yesterday as a draft because I thought we were going out but we don’t seem to be – I’ll just use this draft anyway.  The reason it’s called part one is because there are other things I want to get into that are related to this post but it was getting long so I thought I’d do it another day.  Plus, I don’t have the heart to talk about that stuff yet.  Call this a prelude to the real deal.  When I’m ready for that, we’ll talk 😉

 Becoming a mother has made a couple of things come to the fore.  How much of a part does genetics play in the adults our children become?  Personally, I think that both nature and nurture can play a part but in the long run, nurture is what counts.  At least that’s what I hope.  When we were children, one of the biggest threats my mother had was “you’re going to end up exactly like your father’s family.”  My mother loved my paternal grandfather (he died when I was 6months old but before that he looked after us when my father did not.  He had no illusions about the type of children he had raised.) but she wasn’t so keen on the rest of my father’s family and I can’t say I blame her…for a variety of reasons. The neighbours raised eleven children because my paternal grandmother couldn’t get up out of the bed every day.  My mother has no sympathy for this and can’t understand it but I can because if I allowed myself, I would have the exact same tendency to give up and hide under the covers.  I hadn’t seen that woman since I was around four or five yet when I had my own children I felt the urge to react exactly as she did every now and then.  Okay, to a lesser extent but maybe if I had eleven children, the postnatal depression that I went through would have been much more severe.  Is it genetics that made me feel like this or is just “one of those things?” 

As I said, my mother liked to threaten us with the idea of bad blood, how if we weren’t careful, we would become just like the people she despised.  She did her best to raise us so that we wouldn’t, I’m sure she did, but she made a fatal error by implanting it into our heads that no matter what we did, we would end up a certain way.  I have to admit, I was terrified that I would be a crap mother (just like the women before me…) but I felt like I couldn’t do the same things that they did.    I don’t have it in me to be those types of people.  Or do I? Sometimes I hear my mother’s voice when I speak and that scares the crap out of me.  I should have learned from her mistakes, right?  I know I’m not the best mother in the world.  I’m not good with the cleaning and at any given time, at least one of my children is covered in some sort of unidentified gunk but I love them.  I mean really, truly love them, unconditionally.   I don’t love them because they are good, or say cute things, or have blonde hair, or remind me of me, or can be easily persuaded.  Growing up, these were the things that earned love and these were the things that I didn’t have on my side.  When I was a kid, I had to deal with a lot of crap and a lot of fucked up people.  I have their genes so I’m always aware of how fucked up I could be too. 

Basically, my maternal grandmother is pretty much an alcoholic, a nervous wreck and a bit of a spoiled brat to be honest.  I love her but she’s not very good with responsibility and although she’s much better now, when I was a kid, she wasn’t very nice and I didn’t like her at all.  If she wanted to do something that you didn’t, she could get very mean.  She was the youngest child and the one allowed to mess up a lot.  Her mother raised my mother until they fell out, then she worked constantly, leaving my mother at home alone. 

Side Note: I often felt like I was the adult in that house of spoiled brats.  When I was a kid, it was me that my mother told she was having a miscarriage, it was me that was told we had no money to pay the bills so we weren’t going to have heat or light, it was me who had to come up with ideas to fix things, it was me who took care of my younger brother and the two baby cousins my mother was supposed to look after in the mornings, it was me who had to listen to her cry and freak out, it was me who had to take the brunt of everything and it was me who had to make sure that NOBODY found out what our life was like.  Not one person in my life (save my aunt) could take responsibility for themselves or their own actions.  I was a very young, naive little girl and I had a lot of responsibility that I shouldn’t have had.  I make sure my children get to play.  A lot.  Because I feel like I never had a childhood.  Maybe I had children for selfish reasons then…hmm…that made me think.  What gets me now is that everybody pretends that things aren’t as bad as they were.  Or they skim over them by saying it’s in the past.  Yeah it is, but things were worse than what I even make them out to be. 

Her sister looked after her and although I idolize my aunt, I recognize that she could be domineering and bossy at the best of times.  The both of them together were far too controlling on my mother who manages to be responsible and irresponsible at the same time.  She can look after everyone else except herself and her money (and her children to be honest).  She was an only child and she is also a spoiled brat.  She was not a good mother and although she too is better these days, back then, she was going through a certain amount of mental problems that made her incapable of looking after us in a healthy way.  I still can’t believe that she was allowed to look after two children alone but the past is in the past.  She didn’t start to drink until she reached her 30’s but I think she too will end up on the route to alcoholism.  Her husband is extremely unhealthy and as he is the one keeping her together, when he dies in the next couple of years, she will probably fall apart. 

My father’s family is full of problems.  My father himself is more than likely an alcoholic.  The last time I saw him, I was around 16 or so and he definitely had a drinking and drug problem then so I doubt much has changed to be honest.  My younger brother drinks way too much and takes drugs.  He won’t admit either of those but we both know it.  I think he has a death wish (I’ve met more than one person in my life with one) and like both my parents in their 20’s, he has attempted suicide at least once.  When I get a phone call in the middle of the night, my first thought is that something has happened to my brother.  But my point is that most of my close family don’t know when to stop when it comes to alcohol. 

So, I am fully aware that I am predisposed to a drinking problem and I am sure that in the past I have had way too many drinking sessions.  It is a social thing here.  People think it’s weird if somebody doesn’t drink.  I think I’ve met one or two people in my whole life that are teetotal.  Of course, I’ve been caught up in it too.  I drank a lot as a teenager but slowly lost the habit as I got older.  I don’t think I have a drinking problem though.  I had half a glass of wine last night with my dinner but before that I can’t remember the last time I had a drink.  At the moment, it isn’t something that I need to do to enjoy myself, I get up and dance even when I’m stone cold sober so it isn’t necessary for me to enjoy a night out.  In saying that, I fully plan on getting drunk on Christmas evening so maybe that’s a contradiction.  Anyway, the point is, I tend to hold back.  I know my limits.  I don’t like getting completely drunk and not knowing what I’m doing.  That is not my idea of a good time whereas I think with the others; they drink to forget about the bad times.  Whatever it is, I hope that I’m the one to break the cycle.  My partner’s family has some of the same problems so I admit; I fear that my little ones could follow the same path because it’s in their genes. 

I am different to the rest of my family (when I say family I’m talking about the maternal side) in a lot of ways.  My mother always made me different by saying I didn’t look like them, didn’t act like them, wouldn’t turn out like them.  I was often left out of everything, was often left behind, wasn’t included in treats, that sort of thing but looking at us all now, I seem to be the only one that’s happy so maybe nurture does have something to do with it, maybe if I had been included, I would be exactly the same as the rest of them.  I can’t complain about that one 😉 

I’m probably not being very clear or concise here (what a surprise) but I was left to myself a lot as a child.  The only thing my mother really instilled into me was good manners and the fact that we were a respectable family.  Not one person in her whole family touched heroin (which was the drug epidemic in their time) or got locked up or did anything “bad” yet her son, her golden boy, grew up to become a cokehead.  She can’t understand how the bad one (me) could grow up to become first a hard worker who never got fired from a job to secondly a dedicated mother when the good one (my bro) grew up so messed up in the head.  She thinks it should be the other way around.  If he had a different upbringing he might not be so messed up.  He’s so confused right now and he can’t seem to keep himself on the right track for long.  It’s like he’s pressed a self-destruct button and just can’t stop himself.  Instead of getting help, he hears, “I told you, you’d end up like your father!”  That ain’t going to work any better than it did when we were kids. 

I know that a lot of what I saw as a child has rubbed off on me.  I am a spoiled brat.  I know I am.  I don’t really know how to stop being one…and I probably am a bit mental myself, but never to my kids 🙂 My mother always says to me that I have the same expressions as one of my father’s sisters (I don’t remember ever seeing her) so obviously genetics has a part in things.  But I do believe that it’s how we raise our children that counts the most.  We can’t raise mini-me babies but we can do our best to make sure that we don’t pass on our crap for them to handle.  At least, that’s what I’m hoping and maybe by blogging about things, I won’t be carrying that shit around for my kids to pick up on…

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Topsy Turvy Town

I think that was a Bosco song.  Correct me if I’m wrong.  In case you don’t know Bosco was an obnoxious little puppet that lived in a box and always visited the zoo.  Kids program over here years ago.  I loved it and it came out on dvd last year or the year before.  Class.  He’s (it?) probably the reason I’m the way I am 🙂

 Anyway, I’m over earlier’s little mishap.  Not really but I’m able to write a sentence without swearing so that’s progress mate. 

So, a while ago, I turned on my laptop, ready to face blogland yet again.  It started running fine until it got to the desktop.   Which was upside down.  I sat there for a couple of moments wondering if I was going mad or if somehow my son had manged to twist the screen upside down.  It does twist but not that far.  I restarted the computer.  Same thing again.  Desktop was now upside down land.  W.T.F…?

If Mr. Claire had been here, I would have blamed him in an instant.  Have you ever downloaded those practical joke things that make the mouse go haywire when someone tries to use it and stupid stuff like that?  I used to do that on my old boss.  He thought computers were dangerous as it was without me wrecking his head but it was so funny watching him get freaked out about it.  He could take a joke.  I can’t.  But Mr. Claire was in work so it couldn’t have been down to him. 

I did a system restore thingymabob back to yesterday and everything is okay now, obviously, since I’m writing a post.  But I still don’t know what happened.  Can anyone tell me?  I didn’t even know you could get the desktop to go upside down.  It was so freaky trying to click things off the screen.  Anyway, I want to know how to do it again so I can freak Mr. Claire out next time he uses the laptop.  Things like that baffle him and I don’t really have a whole lot to do since NaNoWriMo ended and my kids went for a nap.  What can I say, I’m easily amused.

Oh, and The Late Late Toy Show is not worth a whole post so I’ll add a little end note here.  The Late Late Show is a longstanding talk show over here that’s on every Friday Night.  It was hosted by Gay Byrne for years and now Pat Kenny has taken over.  Anyway, if you’re a kid it’s the second most boring programme in the universe.  (Live at Three was the worst by far).  But, there is one day every year where they devote the entire show to toys.  Then, it is the best show in the world.  So last Friday was that day (or night). 

The repeat is always on a Sunday afternoon and as I missed the live version, I have the repeat on now.  It’s such a load of crap now.  It’s so….boring.  There’s no atmosphere.  Sure, there’s lots of toys and Christmassy stuff but there’s no happy feeling.  Even my kids got bored and fell asleep rather than watch it.  When I was a kid, it was the best thing in the world.  You’d see all of these lucky kids that were mostly incredibly posh.  There’s always one incredibly common token kid.  They (and sometimes celebrities) would get to test out toys and go on the show and talk about them.  There would be kids dancing and singing and the audience would get lots of free toys.  The catchphrase for the Late Late Show is – “There’s one for everyone in the audience.”  The highlight of this year’s show was a kid saying they didn’t like a boy doll because he had a “you-know-what.”  *Sigh*

The toys are getting better, but it’s still so boring.  I look forward to this every year and I’ll admit, it’s been lacking in the last few years but there’s always some redeeming feature.  Like that little boy who sang “Shout” and was surprised by Girls Aloud behind him.  He was the cutest child.  He made me cry and I still have no idea why.  Can’t find a clip of that unfortunately.  Somethings were as expected.  Pat Kenny wearing a ridiculously ugly jumper.  Toys not working.  Kids getting cheeky.  “You DON’T do it like that!”   Dustin stealing the show…Gerrup outta that!

Maybe I’m just getting too old to enjoy it anymore. 🙂

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