i wanted breast

Well I'm kind of glad this week is over, it's really not gone according to plan. Nothing major, just the usual round of calamity that seems to follow me around.
I swear I can hear it laughing sometimes.
After all the hectic activity of getting my house straight at the weekend ready for the expected visit from the language school on Monday, I got an email from them in the middle of the afternoon asking if they could come on Thursday instead.

Grrr

Annoying.
But at the same time not so bad as I really didn't think it would look good to have them turn up and see an old sofa and other crap piled up at the front of the house, so at least I had time to arrange to have that taken away. I got on the phone and sorted it for Tuesday afternoon, which meant that I would be at work but hopefully Son would be in, so I told the fella I would check and call back to let him know.

"I have arranged for someone to come and collect the sofa and other stuff tomorrow between 11 and 1pm, are you going to be here ?"
"Yeah".
"Ok, I will leave the money for you to pay him."
"Cool".
(FIVE MINUTES LATER)
"I spoke to Grandad today and he wants some slippers and a CD for his birthday, so if you are going into town this week can you get them for me ?"
"Yeah sure, I can get them when I go to my appointment at the job agency."
"When is that ?"
"Tomorrow."
"What time ?"
"11.30."
"So you're not going to be here when the fella comes for the sofa ?"
"What fella . . . . "

Grrrr

Nothing unusual there though, he's been tuning me out for years. That doesn't make it any less annoying, and it even happens when he's the one who asked the question in the first place. The following day he wanted some paint stripper, we don't have any but I suggested trying the brush cleaner I use for acrylic nails. I told him where it was and described the size and colour of the bottle.
Brown glass, about three inches high and it says BRUSH CLEANER on the label.

Ten minutes later he comes downstairs with these. . .

. . and said "is it one of these ?"

CAN YOU SEE ANY BROWN GLASS ???

Grrrrrr

When I worked with kids a lot of the training we did revolved around listening skills. Psychologists believe that when we listen we only take in about 7% of what is being said through the actual words. Voice quality, that is the tone, accounts for 38% and the rest is all about the body language. When applied to difficult children one of the ways I used that knowledge was to make sure that in tricky situations, or when trying to make them understand something, that I remained still, relaxed and spoke in a calm even voice. By doing so you can lessen the impact of the non-verbal communication and increase the understanding of what is actually being said.

Even with some very challenging children that could work a treat.

What I can never understand is how those same techniques don't seem to work with Son. Probably because as little impact as the words might have if he doesn't actually hear them at all nothing registers. Next time he goes to find something in my room I'm going to draw him a diagram.

Mind you I'd need a sniffer dog and a safety helmet to find anything in his.

On Thursday I woke up late. If I'm a little bit late for work it's not normally a problem, I just stay a bit later. But yesterday my boss/friend was going out at 11 so I had to be there by then, and I also really needed to get away on time because the Langauge school were visiting at 6pm.
It takes me 10 minutes to walk to the train station and there's a train at 8 minutes past the hour, get that and get a cab when I get there I'll only be 30 minutes late. After I got dressed I checked the time and it was 9.45, I got my phone and my bag, put my coat on, checked again and it was 10.
Who the fuck stole ten minutes from me ?
(I wish I knew, because the sneaky bastard does it quite often. If I could find the fucker I might be able to steal it back. By my reckoning he's taken enough time in the last few months to equal at least an extra day on the week-end).
But anyway.
Never gonna make that train now unless I get a taxi from my house.
Which I do. And waste £3 because I got on the platform at 10.07.58 just in time to watch the train pull away. Every other day the fucking trains run late, and the day I'm the one that's late the fucker is not just on time it leaves the station a minute early.

Grrrrrrrrrrr

And then, because I used all my cash on the first taxi I have to make the one I took when I got off the train stop at the shop so I can get more out. And OF COURSE there's a queue a mile long and only one cashier.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

But I did manage to make it to work by 10.55, and as I am fortunate enough to work for a friend I was able to leave on time. I got a lift back to the station just as the train home was pulling in, put my ticket in the barrier and it refused to open. The guard came over and looked at it, and I had tried to use the out ticket not the return.
Which meant that when I bought it in the morning I had put the out ticket in my purse.
And thrown the return bit in the bin as I left the station.
FUCK FUCK FUCK
Luckily he believed me and let me through. Although by then that train had gone and I had to wait for the next one so I made it home just before 6.
And the bloody visitors from the Language school didn't turn up.
Grrrrr

One of my friends is a very spiritual person. She believes - I'm really not sure how to describe it properly but I guess the best way to explain it would be - in the power of the Universe. That we all draw things to ourselves and the Universe gives us what we need or deserve.
Personally I'm not too sure about that but I certainly believe in Karma.

Most of the little disasters that happen to me really don't amount to much on their own, but when I actually stop to think about how often they occur, and apply my friends ideas to them then I really just have to wonder what it was that I did to the Universe that makes it want to fuck me over on such a regular basis.

Even today it continues, I had the day off work so arranged for my shopping to be delivered late in the afternoon. Today is my Dads birthday and tomorrow I am cooking a meal for the family to celebrate, my plan was to make the curries tonight (we are having a Thai feast) but when I unpacked the shopping I had ordered the wrong chicken.
I wanted breast, I got breaded gougons.
I wonder if that's a sentence ever uttered by a disappointed man ?
In Thailand perhaps.

Luckily Son has his uses, and armed with a very detailed shopping list and a map of the route to the shop he was able to complete the mission to go and get the right kind for me.
I couldn't go because the lady from the Language school was due at 5pm, and this time she did turn up. Pictures were taken of my house (fucking good job I did the washing up) and hopefully I'll get a student soon.
The curries are now cooked and this . . .  is the dessert I made. . .

That is a chocolate and strawberry tart.
Just to prove that not everything I do is a total disaster.

Although I can't promise that it will still be in the fridge by the time my guests arrive tomorrow night.

Have a good week-end people !!

Goa . . . #3

I've been trying to write this post for about three days.

It's just not easy to look at a computer screen for long when your head is pounding and you feel like shit because you have the mother of all colds.
I think my body is trying to tell me that it wants to be back in the sun.
I haven't slept well either, it's been impossible to get comfortable, and a couple of nights ago I managed to convince myself that I just might have malaria.

Thanks brain.
Or course after worrying myself silly in the middle of the night sense kicked in come the morning and I realised that it's probably just flu.

I'm not someone who usually keeps a diary - well not since my Mum found the one I had when I was a teenager - but whenever I go on holiday I do, so I have been reading back through the one I kept in India. And it's a good job too because there were some things in there that I had forgotten about already, just about the little interactions I had with people and things I saw.

However my favourite story is one I have no problem remembering.

In our apartment was a guide book for Goa which I was reading and it mentioned snakes. It said that when walking about, especially at night and in the country, to take a flashlight with you.
From the gate to our complex you could walk two ways, one way was well lit and took about five minutes to get to a very busy part of the town, but if you walked the other way it was about 10 minutes of dark country lane before you hit the main road. This particular night we went the country lane way, I'm in front with one friend, the rest are walking behind us, and I have my torch.

My mate asked me why I had the torch, so I explained what I had read in the book and said I was on "snake watch".
She started to take the piss, saying it was hardly a country lane and laughing at me. About a second after this a car coming towards us stopped and in it's headlights crossing the lane was a fucking HUGE python. It had clearly just eaten as there was a large lump in its middle.
Normally at the sight of this I would've freaked.
But in view of the conversation I just stood there pointing at the snake and feeling very vindicated.

Because if I hadn't had my torch and that car hadn't come up the road. . . . .

After that if we went anywhere at night nobody took the piss out of me for being on snake watch.

I had a few animal encounters in India, although that was the only bad one. As well as the monkeys I've already spoke about I got up close with a couple of elephants. We went to a place where they let us get in the stream with one and wash it, and you can then climb on it's back and have an elephant shower from its trunk.

You'll have to excuse the blanked out bits, we had my friends granddaughters with us in this picture and I don't think it's right to put them on here. But that is me, I'm nearest to her head.

Cows are everywhere, Goa is a Hindu state and they are considered holy and allowed to roam free wherever they want. It's quite bizarre though, not just seeing them on the beach, but you will see a crowd of people walking down the road and there will be a few cows in the middle of them. Sometimes they are in small groups, especially where there is food to be had. In the middle of the main street where we were there is a statue surrounded by plants, and we often saw a couple of cows tucking in to them.

A bunch of pretty flowers to impress the visitors to your town or a snack spot for the local herd.

Supper time.

There are also stray dogs everywhere you go. Everyone says not to touch them, because of parasites and mange, and although many do look the worse for wear they don't look as if they are starving. The advice is that if you are bitten by one you need to have a rabies shot, but I have to say my impression is that they are generally quite docile. I guess they know that people will feed them, I gave our leftover lunch to one that came and sat by us on the beach but then the cheeky git went and cocked it's leg on my sunbed !

This ungrateful dog !

The Indian crows are quite cheeky too, and will approach you if they think they are going to get fed, but not too close. Although I took this picture walking up the lane by our apartment, at first he was halfway up the tree and as I stopped and got my camera out he came and sat on a lower branch and was about two foot away from me. Fucking poser.

We found this HUGE caterpillar one evening.
Not surprising really, as we also saw some beautiful and HUGE butterflies although despite my best efforts I could not get a picture of any of them.

And this little lizard was on the wall of our roof terrace every night, sometimes he brought a friend along too. I tried to entice it to come closer with fruit, but I guess there's more then enough insects in India to keep a lizard happy. Most nights he hung around near the wall light, so he was well fed.

I have one more post about India that I want to write and I promise that will be the last one, this must be getting a bit boring for you lot now. Of course I can't promise to never mention it again, the place affected me in a way I've struggled to explain to the few people I've spoke about it to.
But I'm going to try in the next post.
And share a few of the stories from my diary.

And after that normal service will be resumed.

Goa. . . #2

I'm starting to think I really am a changed woman.

Something happened at the week-end that pissed me off. . . for about five minutes. Then I found myself thinking "so what, no big deal, let it go".
And I did.
Pre- India Cowgirl probably would've wrote a scathing blog post about it and other related times when similar things had happened, but instead I just decided that getting annoyed was a waste of energy. Life's too short and all that.

Guess I really did chill right out on those beaches.

Well who wouldn't ? Just look at it.

Speaking of which.. .
Fucking amazing, every single one.

The beaches I went to are in North Goa and all are golden sands and border the Arabian Sea. It's quite tidal - you have to be wary of strong currents if you go out too far or when the tide is right out, but the waves are great for airbed surfing (my only favourite sport) and the sea is warm.

Every beach has it's own shacks, and you can get drinks and food from them. Tell them you want to have lunch when you arrive and they come round with fresh fish for you to choose from, which they will cook for you and either bring to you on your sunbed or serve in the shack.

Along the shore line there are lots of tiny shells, some with the fish still in them. At Ashwem there were so many crabs it was a bit off putting, especially when we saw the size of some that were in the sea. But I have never seen a real star fish before so that was quite incredible. As the tide went out they were everywhere.

There are always people walking up and down the beaches selling things, clothing, jewellery, drums and various souvenir items. To be honest at times they can be a nuisance, there I am trying to tan myself and constantly being asked if I want to buy a sarong. But at the same time I got some real bargains by haggling (they expect it) with them. And it's worth buying stuff because then they will sit and chat to you, and we had some very entertaining times with them. I also got a real insight into their lives. These people have to have a licence (which costs more then most of them can earn in a season) to be able to sell on the beach. If they are caught they are usually made to pay 5000 rupees, which is a bribe (Goa police are well known for being corrupt) not a fine ! That's about 60 UK pounds, but an awful lot in India and as one girl told me they don't really sell very much and generally only make about 10 - 20 rupees per item.
And all of those that I spoke to are just trying to support their families.

Some of the women also offer pedicures and manicures and I had my legs and eyebrows threaded for a couple of pounds.
There are also masseurs that have their own shacks on the beaches - no wonder I chilled out.

My favourite beach was Vagator. It's reached by climbing down steps that have been built into the side of the cliff . . .

. . . but when you get there. Oh. My. God.

The beach is best known for being one of the favourites of the hippies that first went to Goa, and is the site of the famous carving of Shiva into the rocks.

He's looking a bit worn now, and half of him is buried in the sand, but for me this carving (I have many friends who have been there and taken pictures) has always represented Goa. And finally I was there.

I met this Hindu holy man standing next to the carving. It is customary to give them a small donation, which I did, and received a blessing as thanks. But I also noticed that he had six toes on each foot !

It's quite strange to see a cow on a beach. Not something you might expect, even in India where they roam the streets freely, but this picture kind of sums the place up for me.

We even had one on that came and ate our left over lunch, let Pete tickle under it's chin and then laid down behind our sunbeds. And it was a bull, apparently they are not known for being congenial to humans and will butt you away, but this one obviously thought he found a kindred spirit.

And this . . .

is the sun setting for the last time on 2011 at Morjim Beach.
What a way to end the year.

Of course I took way more pictures of those beaches then I have posted, links to some more are below.
Ashwem Beach
Mandrem Beach
Morjim Beach
Vagator Beach

I'm still trying to catch up on reading the blogs I follow, but I'm beginning to realise that that's never going to happen. I've been trying to do so as each of you write a new post but I was away for so long it's been taking me ages. Apologies if I appear to be ignoring you - I'm not.
I just need a few days holiday to catch up on the reading, and that's not going to happen.

And don't worry, despite what I said at the start of this post I'm sure it's only a matter of time before normal ranting angry Cowgirl returns.
Sooner or later someone/thing is bound to wind me up.

Goa. . . #1

Tuesday was my birthday.

Urghhhh. Another year older.

Except I forgot. If it hadn't been for someone commenting on the date I wouldn't of realised until I got home from work to find a card from my Dad. Before I went away I was dreading this particular milestone, but it seems that my holiday has given me a new focus as well as a great tan and good memories.
Thank fuck for that.

I have so much to write about India that I'm not really sure where to start, but as I already put up a picture of the monkeys I guess that story can be first.

And how amazing that this happened on the 1st January, what a way to start the new year !

We set out to visit the Dudhusagar waterfalls which are to the East of Goa.
From the village of Mollem we took a 45 min jeep ride over some very rough terrain through the forest. Not for the faint-hearted - you get thrown around a bit, but great fun. The road is just a dirt track really and at times the jeep has to pass through the river. They deliberately keep it this way so that the site is not too inundated with visitors, but during the monsoon it is inaccessible anyway. The forest is inhabited by leopards, bears, monkeys and vipers - as we were driving through there were funnel webs everywhere so plenty of spiders too.

The start of the dirt track, it was impossible to take pictures once we got going as the ride was so bumpy.

Taken as the jeep passed through the river bed.

As we were passing along one stretch of the river we spotted a deer and the driver stopped the jeep. I will never forget the sound the deer was making, it echoed through the forest. We had our driver and a guide with us and they were both amazed to see it. Apparently it is a very rare sight in India, but then we saw the reason it was staying put and calling for help - it was being hunted by a pack of foxes. Our driver actually got in the water, chased the foxes away, and helped it to safety on the other side of the river.

You can see the reddish brown of one of the foxes behind the tree stump in the background.

He said this was very lucky for us all (even more so for the deer) and when we reached the car park at the end of the journey he wanted to see the pictures I had taken and was calling the other drivers over to show them. The man was a hero and it was quite clear from their reactions that the others thought so too.
I have his address (he has no email) and have promised him that I will send prints of the pictures.

As soon as we got to the car park there were monkeys waiting to be fed (they sell bags of fruit and nuts for them in the village).

We then had to walk the last part of the way to the waterfall. This involves climbing over some - at times - quite large rocks, and passing over the river on two precarious little bridges but the forest is absolutely beautiful.

Then we reached the waterfall itself.

The railway runs along about half way up the waterfall, the picture really doesn't do justice to how high it is.

The name Dudhsagar means "sea of milk", it's easy to see why it got the name but apparently during the monsoon it resembles one even more.
You can swim in the pool if you like, but we just sat on the rocks and enjoyed the amazing view and yet more monkeys that came and sat with us. They are very bold, and yet at the same time still quite wary of people. The guides tell you not to touch them, but I doubt that's even possible. It was enough for me that I was sat on a rock on new years day and a mother and her baby came and sat less then two feet away from me.

There's a lot I want to say about Goa and it's wonderful people in general, and I have a few stories to share as well. It's too much for one post so I plan to write a few and add just some of the pics to each. I will make albums on skydrive for the rest so you can see them if you want without using up all my picassa allowance.

In the meantime if you would like to see all the pictures taken at the waterfalls here's the link.

the bitch is back !

And I am tanned, relaxed and totally chilled out.
I loved Goa - best holiday ever, I have washed an elephant, hand fed monkeys, laid on gorgeous beaches, ate delicious food and shopped (a bit too much), really didn't want to come home - stepped off the plane and England is FUCKING FREEZING.

Thanks for all the comments left while I was gone, and welcome to the new readers. I will get round to checking out your blogs at some point, and catching up on the ones I follow. But at the moment I have a suitcase that was twice as stuffed coming home as when I left (and it was pretty stuffed then) to try and sort out.

I have lots of stories, and I somehow managed to take about 700 photos, so best get ready to be thoroughly sick of me posting about India.
In the meantime here's a snap of one of the many highlights. . .

byeeeee !!!

Well this is it.

This will be my last post for a month, and this time tomorrow I will be thousands of miles away in the sun.
To say I was a little bit excited is the understatement of the year.

Christmas on the beach is something I have always wanted to do, especially since Son grew up and I no longer had to pretend to enjoy it, and could freely admit that I actually hate this time of year.
However I do have a nativity story of my own that I love.
It was a long time ago (no, not that long, I'm not talking about Bethlehem) and Son was still mummy's special little boy. Ok, that was actually longer ago then I am prepared to admit, but he was three at the time and attending nursery school. He loved it there, all the other kids would cry when their parents left them in the morning, mine used to get upset when it was time to leave.
I went to get him and as it was one of the days when we had no lift this meant a walk to the bus stop. It wasn't that far, unless you were three years old and had just endured a long day of games, afternoon naps, making cakes, painting, story telling and generally enjoying yourself.
So he starts to complain.
Usually I would've carried him some of the way, but I had been Christmas shopping before I went to get him and had a few bags to carry. All he was carrying was his (now empty) lunchbox but apparently that was HEAVY.
He started to walk really slowly for a few minutes before stopping altogether, then puts his ghostbusters plastic lunchbox on the pavement, sits on it, folds his arms and says,
"That's it. I can't walk any more. I've got a baby in my tummy and it's coming out RIGHT NOW"

I spent the next few days wondering what on earth they were teaching him. But the next day he was there I got an invite to their nativity play and then it made sense.
Mummy's special boy had figured if it was a good enough excuse for Mary to stop and rest then it was good enough for him.

I realise it's going to be hard to cope quiet without me, but there are some guest posts appearing here over the coming month, and I do have almost a years worth of posts you could always read back through if you find yourself suffering from cowgirl withdrawl. In fact by the time I get back it will almost be LAWAFM's first birthday.
Thanks to all of you who have visited, followed, read, commented. I'm still blown away that so many of you take the time to read the nonsense and constant moaning interesting stuff that I write here.
I started blogging for me, but you all make it worthwhile :)

I love you guys.
See you next year !!!
XXX

I even made you all a Christmas Card. Well I adapted it from what was going to be a followers badge.

Don't expect too much effort I have packing to do.

 My printer's broke otherwise I would send some out, but if you really want you can copy and print it yourselves.

In the meantime. . .  here's some Christmas cheer I stole borrowed from the internet.

The night before Xmas throughout the house,
we were all fucked, even the mouse.
Dad at the brothel, mum with uncle Frank,
I'd settled down for a nice slow wank.
Outside the house I heard a right clatter,
I let go of my cock to see what was the matter.
Out on the lawn I saw a big dick,
I knew right away it was old St Nick.
He came down the chimney like a bat out of hell.
The big fat fucker, I think he fell.
He filled all our stockings with sweets and beer,
and a big rubber cock for my brother, the queer.
He rose up the chimney with a thunderous fart,
the big fat cunt blew the house apart.
He swore and he cursed as he rode out of sight,
Shouting I'll be back next year, have a hell of a night.

Joseph and Mary lived in a barn. Mary had just given birth to a baby boy, Joseph was a carpenter by trade but had no work.
On this particular day, after another unsuccessful day at the job centre, Joseph trudges back to the barn on his donkey. He then notices three men on camels carrying parcels and they take them into the barn.
Joseph gets off his donkey, storms into the barn and shouts, "For fuck's sake, Mary; we've just had a baby, I'm unemployed and you're ordering stuff off ebay."

Driving on ice is like having sex doggie style.
One slip and you can really fuck up someone's rear end.
Drive safely this Xmas

@guestposters - a friend of mine has admin just in case the scheduling doesn't work so she can publish them and any comments.
@Vee - I'll message you, I plan to get an Indian SIM for my phone so I'll let you have the number and hopefully meet you there :)


One last thing before I go.

I know it's a bit early to be saying this is my favourite christmas post as I won't be around to read all of them, but I have a feeling that even if I read loads this would still be my favourite.
http://howtohatemore.blogspot.com/2011/12/rudolph-red-nosed-leper.html

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

broken ?

Something appears to be amiss with the whole following process.

I say this because of a few things.

For a while now I have noticed that some sheep followers do not show up in the gadget or the list on my dashboard, although they are included in the numbers. Some days I see them straight away, other times I need to refresh several times. And it's always just the latest.
It worries me as I would hate to have to hunt you down lose any of my flock, because even though I say I'm not that bothered if people stop following of course I will find you am really.

In the last month or so there have been a few times when someone left a comment saying they are following and they either never show in the gadget or it takes a few days.
Although again the number increases.

And no, I have established that this is not folk following via reader or subscription, the number showing as followers on the dashboard is ONLY people who follow through a blog/google account. If you follow another way the number will not increase. 

A few blogs that I have recently started stalking following myself are not showing up in my dashboard, either in the list or when they publish a new post. And I have tried adding them via google connect on the gadget and adding them manually from the dashboard.
Luckily they have feedburner so I've subscribed via email instead, but I would prefer to see them when I log in here.

I also stopped following some that were fucking boring had not posted for months, and yet they were still on my dashboard. One I removed  - after a few attempts - and a few days later it was showing there again.

Fucking annoying - all of it.
Mostly because I have missed a few posts and it's like missing an episode of a favourite TV show.
And if I see I have a new follower I want to know who they are so I can see if they are a sexy fella I can stalk go to their blog and say thanks and maybe follow back. How am I supposed to perv over their pictures and send them anonymous emails do that if  I can't even see who they are ?

All joking aside though, I kind of hoped the problems were due to introducing the new interface, when it was first rolled out the followers gadget was inclined to disappear every once in a while, but it always came back. However lately it feels like blogger is a bit broken.
If it was just the one thing I might be concerned that it was the feed for my blog that was acting up, but I'm not so sure.
Has anyone else had similar issues ?
Do my posts always show up ok in your dashboards ? Or wherever you get my updates from ?

I know it's easy enough to check for emails about new posts, or use Reader, but I kind of like having them all in the one place. It's less confusing for my mentalpause addled brain just easier to manage.

And yeah, it is 5.30am and yeah I should be sleeping but I am just TOO EXCITED TO SLEEP AS IN EXACTLY 48 HOURS THE CAR FOR THE AIRPORT WILL BE HERE !!!! And as today is my LAST DAY AT WORK I promised I would go in early so there is no point in even trying to sleep now.

So I thought I'd have a little bitch about this and see if it's affecting anyone else.