My little nap

Baby sitting today! Went to put nephew in my bed for his afternoon nap and ended up falling asleep next to him. Yep, old age has finally caught up with me. Next step is puréed food and incontinence pads.

The warmth of my family...

England is completely covered in snow, and trust me when I say it is not as romantic as it looks in the movies. It is cold; I am cold, very cold, totally cold. Have got the central heating up high, warm clothes on and two pairs of snuggly socks, and I am still cold.

It is at times like this I count my blessings at being born a Punjabi. I would, without a doubt, be the weakest link in a tribe of Eskimos….Or as my best friend states, 'a flipping liability.'

Although there have been times when I have seriously questioned the sense behind God’s decision, I have now come to the conclusion that he did know what he was doing when I was assigned my family.

If I ruled the world!

Do you ever play the ‘if I was in charge’ game?

I do!

Its a bit like arm chair politics with, not only, megalomaniac tendencies thrown in, but also a decent bout of ‘I know better,’ as well.

I often sit there and say, "I could do better than the Muppets on the council" or "I could teach the staff in this hotel a thing or two about guest relations."

Off the top of my head, so far, I know this really fab way to:

1) Sort out the country’s parking problems.

2) Invent a gadget that instead of squirting a dollop of mayonnaise in the middle of a chicken burger in KFC, it spreads it evenly over the whole bun so you get some in every bite, rather then this gooey surge half way in. And prosecute any place that does not implement this gadget.

3) Train the staff at Debenhams Hounslow in customer service.

"dunno" is not an appropriate answer when you find an amazing pair of Jeff Banks flip flops in the sale and you are merely inquiring as to the reason why one is a size three and the other a size seven, and would she go and have a scout around on the shop floor for two size sevens. – Yes, that includes all the stuff thrown on the floor in a messy heap under the rails; and while she’s at it could she also check in the stock room, the ‘has to go back on the shop floor' pile in the changing room – on this floor and the one above…
So what if it was 5 minutes to closing time?
In this current climate, retailers should be grateful for any customer prepared to throw £3.99 (minus the 20% off because its blue x) their way.
AND NO they shouldn’t laugh when customer says "seriously one seven and one size six would do, its not as if anyone’s really gonna look that closely. I suppose I can stretch to a 5½, if my walk ends up a touch dodgy, I’ll pretend I was tragically maimed whilst on safari in Africa…"

Oh yes, I’ve thought about all the important things in life…And, I have even been confident enough to, at times, disagree with Sir Allan’s (or S’alon, as most of the contestants seem to pronounce) comments on the apprentice – there said it, controversial I know.

Point to note – The moment you start thinking you know better than the God that is Simon Cowell, you are in fact suffering from some sort of delusional psychiatric disorder.

And the fact that I know where to draw the line only goes to prove how together I am. All I need is the opportunity to put my improvements into practice. So taking into account the recent MP’s scandal and the vacancies left by a wave of resignations, perhaps I should join – obviously being in tune with the average person’s daily gripe.

So for the next few months I will put together a little manifesto of issues I feel need addressing…
First important issue I will address: To ban Speedos.

Full explanation will be given in a following blog.

Ciao xx

A very nappy afternoon.

I am an aunty (related and non) to many a child.
There’s my cousin Minu Didi’s girls. My friend Seema’s son Dillon, not to mention various other friends and relations. But the one I enjoy the most is my twin brother Ajay’s little boy; that’s because he’s at that age where everything he does is so bloody funny. So when said sister in law asked if I could have him for the day, I jumped at the chance. Only she omitted one slight detail…he’d started potty training.
Well, he wasn’t per se. He was more than content to stay in nappies. These nasty pull up things are being forced on him by that mummy woman.

Nephew spent the afternoon at war with me. No matter how much I cajoled and bribed he point blank refused to give up his nappies for pull ups. He just wouldn’t have anything to do with them. Instead he kept taking them off and then proceed to teach me a lesson for confiscating the nappies. He’d piddled on me, my office floor, an expensive Persian rug, mid run between the kitchen and backroom. In a space of a few hours, he’d turned into a human watering can.

I’m an aunty who takes her aunty-ing job very seriously indeed. I spend quality time with them. I take them out, feed them at child friendly, yet nutritious places.
I bake cookies with Minu Didi’s girls.
I get up sing along to the songs on CBeebies with my nephew.

Point to note - I don’t just sing! I get up and do the actions, with precision and passion. At that point he always looks at me with a huge grin that oozes ‘lady you’re the best thing since Balamory’ and my heart just melts.

But his particular afternoon I was now the enemy. I was only following sister in law’s orders.

Later that afternoon, I had to pop into Soho for a casting and left little bubba with my mum. Mum comes from the Punjabi school of parenting. No nonsense.
So when my nephew attempted the same stunt on her, she was having none of it!
She scooped him up in one arm, pull ups in the other and sternly made it clear that he wasn't, under no circumstances to do that again, ever. In under 2 seconds had whipped them pull ups firmly back on his bottom. How that was humanly possible, I don’t know.
As if nothing had ever happened, she had him sat quietly in front of CBeebies, with a bowl of rice and chicken - My nephew is taller and sturdier than other toddlers in his age category, not that his has any effect on mum. The fact that he isn’t bordering on the line of what western doctors would call obese, mum has come to the conclusion he must be thoroughly undernourished and is therefore completely unimpressed - It a good job she is now retired and is on hand full time to divert this catastrophic case of malnutrition.

Mum was now sat back smug at her successful handling of nappy-gate.
As far as she was concerned, I didn’t any have children of my own, there was so much I needed to learn from her.
Little did she realise that all she had taught bubba is one thing and one thing only; ‘Mustn’t pull this stunt on Dadi-ji, she’s not having it. But Bhua? (Aunty of the dad’s sister variety – that’s me) Yep, she’s still fair game,’ as he throws his pull-ups behind my sofa with a mischievous look that says ‘Hmmmm where shall I piddle next?’

The MJ circus.

This week Michael Jackson sadly passed away.
Its sad and the news has been a shock to many.
Naturally there was an outpouring of grief from those who actually knew him and his fans. Why? There’s an association there.

But what’s more sad and shocking is the opportunist associates engaging in what I would call ‘the eulogy circus.’ The most pointless so far being last Friday. I tuned into lunch time panel show just in time to hear the lead presenter say ‘our next guest was someone who was close to Michael Jackson…..’ (or something very similar to that) at which point an british ex-soap star as introduced.

THOUGHT PROCESS AT TIME
??????????????????????

Had everything gone silent you’d have been able to hear the tick, tick, tick in my brain as I pondered.
I looked at my mum confused and then I looked back at the telly.
I then looked at my mum again quizzically. And then back at the screen.
I, once again, looked at mum. But this time more closely, scrutinising her face looking for any signs of shiftiness.
Why?
Well what I was hearing on the telly didn’t make sense, so there had to be only one other logical explanation… At some point in the last few years, I must have met with an accident and suffered memory loss, with the doctors advising my loved ones not to tell me in case the emotional shock left my brain locked without its memories.
How else do you explain me, an avid reader of celeb mags, having no recollection of ex-soap star & MJ being BFs. (best friends!)
I don’t remember seeing long lens snaps of them out shopping, stopping off for a posh latte as they nip between the Gucci and Versace shops. Or pictures of them on a much needed beach getaway with the mag asking ‘who has the best beach bod?’

‘Close’ was what said presenter said. Turns out our ex-soap star was at a wedding with him once. Oh no, she wasn’t with him, they were in the room at the same time.
When they said ‘close’ they definitely implied it was an emotional connection and not one of proximity.
Well if this is the judging chart for being ‘close’ then I’m at next of kin status with half the Punjabi’s in the Hounslow area. And I can think of at least 25 families (and still counting) where I could be entitled to a share of the property should one of them cark it.

In all fairness, the presenters of this lunch time panel show were cringing and so wanted the ground to swallow them up. They looked totally betrayed by the editorial team.

There are people who knew MJ and worked with him – Quincy Jones, Diana Ross and even Will-i-am from the Black Eyed Peas, to name a few.
I can understand people who have great memories of his music, who felt like getting in touch with the phone in shows on MTV.
I too have a very dodgy memory of a Michael Jackson song and my first ever kiss, but that’s another story…which I will tell you about later.
But a whole array casual associates purporting to have a bigger insight into him…‘Michael would have been looking forward to his concerts’ or ‘Michael was worried about the London dates and his financial worries’ only to say five minutes later that they’d not really had any contact with him for years… Revelling in this tragedy and trying to keep their profiles up; tut tut…shameful!!!

There rant over…

Spice up your life

When the Spice Girls told us to spice up our lives, they kinda had a point. Its a shame not everyone took this advice on board. So for those who need a helping hand I've kindly laid out some pointers:

You know your life needs spicing up when…

Life is so spicy it would put my mothers cooking to shame.

Sandy Dee is regarded as the theme tune to your life.

You don’t have a theme tune as your life is always moving with the times. ‘Bump n Grind’ one day and ‘Soul Sister’ the next.
Although you have been stuck on Christina Aguilera’s ‘Dirty’ for the last few years.

The last time you went to a party it was pin the tale on the donkey, and pass the parcel was the highlight of the day.

What LAST time?? Life is one constant parteeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
You’re turning down so many invites that even the Beckham’s are ringing you for your ‘secret’

You’ve watch every episode of ‘Casualty’ on a Saturday night.

Casualty was where you ended up when you fell flat on your face blind drunk last Saturday.

The 'Karma Sutra' is merely a dream.

‘Hell! Where’s the publishing deal, I’ll write the sequel.’

You iron you pyjamas.

Why? You won’t be in them for long.

The vast majority of your underwear is grey and the size of Buckinghamshire.

What you have in your wardrobe would be considered too risqué even for Ann Summers.

Looking at your wardrobe…Yep, Gok would have to admit defeat.
(and this is the guy who managed to do something with Alan Carr)

You are regarded as Kate Moss’ style icon.

You’re stuck house-sitting as your parents shoot off to Rio on a romantic break during carnival season.

Your parents kindly suggest a nice little break in The Priory to recover. Its not just celebrities who suffer from sheer exhaustion due to a hectic lifestyle.

It is common consensus that ‘Ugly Betty’ is a biography of your life.

Even Samantha from ‘Sex and the City’ knows when to calm it.

You spend every spare evening you have sorting out and indexing the photos you took of your cousin’s wedding.

Facebook has had to remove the vast majority of photos of you posted by friends as they break every moral and decency code.

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The above suggestions bring me to a serious point.

As you will have noticed there has been a bit of a gap since my last post.
Now, being a young single gal-about-town, you'd think my life would be a flurry of activity in a Tara Palmer-Tomkinson kind of way.
I wish I could say that the gap can be put down to my life being a whirlwind of one spicy unforgettable moment after another.
How wonderful if I was blogging to say that Rupert Penry Jones had finally come to his senses and realised I am the love of his life; and I’ve spent two glorious weeks with Ru (as I would call him) being romanced on some yacht in the Mediterranean, loaned to him by a Shipping Magnet friend.
But alas no! I have no spicy tales to tell.
Truth is life’s been a tad tough. Someone close has fallen quite ill, and the prognosis doesn’t look good at this stage – but here’s hoping.
For a while things may be a touch higgledy piggledy. So with that, the blog is now going fortnightly for a short while.
No doubt I’ll soon be back causing sheer havoc.
See you in two weeks peeps.

xx

THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST.

Incident one

“So have you thought any more about having laser treatment?” Said Kully, my lovely waxing lady.
“Hmmmm…” I smiled trying not to take the conversation any further.
Last Monday night I’d gone to my usual waxing lady, who had converted her loft into a mini salon.
We were just finishing up when she bought up the subject of permanent hair removing laser treatment. For as long as I can remember, she’s been urging me consider the procedure.
“And just think you wouldn’t need to keep coming back.” Kully explained.
“I know but waxing as and when is fine," I smiled uncomfortably.
“Just think how convenient it would be for you.”
I must admit, it did sound like a fab idea. Was it an option? What about the consequences? “Perhaps,” I shrugged.
The word ‘Perhaps’ had barely left my mouth when I felt a gust of wind blew through the room.
I looked outside the sky light and saw how quickly it had clouded over. The change in atmosphere was like a slap in the face. The realisation of what I was about to agree to.
“Just stop harassing me…” I cried pleadingly as I ran from the room, out of her house and into the breezy air.

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Incident two - The following day

“Have you?” Demanded Bini
“Have I what?” Trying to fake that ‘I haven’t a clue what you’re speaking off’ reaction.
“You know what I’m talking about,”
“Do I?” I innocently purred.
“Look at the weather?”
“Hmmm,”
“Look. At. The. Weather…………….So I’ll ask again; did you?”
“Yea!” I sheepishly muttered.
“You’re so selfish…”


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I will now reveal all. – I can’t carry this burden anymore.

But first, I owe the nation an apology. Last weekend, over the bank holiday weekend, the weather was good, and then it wasn’t.

I kinda caused that.
I kinda cause that by getting my legs waxed.
Now don’t immediately write me off as some sort of wacko. Hear me out, please!
There is a direct correlation between my leg waxing habits and the turn of the weather. I kid you not.

I noticed it years ago. The sun would come out, catching me unawares. I’d think ‘great better get booked in for a leg wax and enjoy the sunshine.’ (As, like a lot of my girlfriends, in periods of winter and singleness I don’t bother)
But the moment I did. The weather would turn back again.
And this time was no different. Monday night I got my legs waxed – Monday night it rained.

If I’m honest its not just leg waxing. If I plan anything that needs decent weather, it turns, i.e. the proposed event that led up to my leg wax.
Mr DbT (Death by Thorntons) had asked me if I fancied a day in the country as he had the day off work. I’d had a really upsetting run in with an old flame the week previous and Mr DbT wanted to cheer me up.

He was given that nickname by my friends. He and I were walking through Brent Cross shopping centre last autumn. We were passing the Throntons shop on the first floor when I said I felt like an ice cream. He insisted on buying me one…the biggest one – with four scoops. I couldn’t decide which one out of my four favourite flavours I wanted, so he decided to get me all four.
He thought I could eat what I wanted and bin the rest.
I didn’t want to seem ungrateful and forced myself to have the whole thing – we hadn’t known each other that long.
So I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling ill with that sickly to-much-sweet belly churning feeling, and a sugar high headache.
Hence, he is now referred to as Mr Death by Thorntons. AKA DbT

So Mr DbT asked me on a day date.
(This still surprises me. Lets just say if you have read just one of my blog entries, it will come as no surprise that there have been a few times…Okay more than a few times…ample reasons for Mr DbT to think that I am a complete lunatic and he should run for the hills. But to my surprise, he doesn’t. In fact, he thinks I’m pretty terrific.)

So whilst visualising a nice picnic, lounging around in the sunshine, going for a scenic walk in my new 3¼ length cotton culottes, I happily booked the leg wax.
And true to form it pissed it down.
Apparently it was unexpected undercurrents coming in from Norway.
And to think, we took their AHA into our hearts. What a way to be repaid!

Mr DbT and I did set off hoping it would clear up, but no. We got as far as the first motorway service station before deciding not to carry on any further.
Instead, we spent the rest of the afternoon sat in the service station restaurant playing the travel Connect Four that we’d bought in the sweet shop.
(In actual fact he played, I just cheated…and I also realised he really did think I was pretty terrific. Despite each attempt becoming more obvious and outlandish than the last, he just shook his head, laughed and let me win.

Yes, on the one hand I realised it doesn’t matter where you are, if you click with someone, you click! And you don’t wanna be any where else but in their company.

But in the other hand surely my weather changing theory now could not be dismissed as sheer coincidence.

At first, I used to treat it like a silly joke…I’d laugh and make an off-the-cuff statement such as, ‘Oops sorry for the weather guys, got my legs waxed’
Until I noticed how often I was saying it.
My friends would equally rib me, 'Ha Ha, its raining, get your legs waxed did you?’
I’d quietly mutter ‘yes.’
And they too noticed how often I’d quietly mutter ‘yes’.

And suddenly it was publicly being acknowledged. At first, as a running joke.
But now, I can seriously see the worried look on everyone’s face.

What if there was more to this?

THOUGHT PROCESS AT TIME
Oh my god! I think I yield the power to change weather.

Did I? Could I ruin a loved one’s outdoor barbeque with a mere pluck of a hair follicle?

The responsibility!


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Wednesday - early evening

I walked into a bar in London’s Covent Garden to meet Julia and Bini. They had both taken the afternoon off work. Since the weather was predicted to be nice all week everyone had decided to take their time owed in lieu.
So as you can guess, they weren’t too best please with me.
“Girls if you’re gonna start I don’t want to hear it.”

“Actually now you come to mention it, we have been thinking about the coronation between you and the weather changing…” announced Julia

“You mean the correlation” I corrected

“That is what she said,” Bini jumped in.

“What if you do actually wield secret weather changing powers?” asked Julia.

“Really, you actually think so?” I sighed with relief.

I hadn’t been looking forward to coming here, especially after Bini’s outburst I was expecting a contempt filled stare that said ‘How dare you choose happiness over my enjoyment of sunshine.’

Yesterday after her outburst and accusations of selfishness I kinda broke down.
I was being victimised. No less than 7 –yes 7 friends texted me on Tuesday, demanding I explain myself.
All I have to do is innocently walk past the tubes of immac in the supermarket and a gust of wind is sent crashing round the earth. What did she know of the burden I carried?

Hence my reaction to permanent laser treatment – I’d bring on the bloody ice age.

I’d known all along I had weather chainging powers. But I could never acknowledge it publicly. Just look what happened to David Icke when he said he was the son of God, he was ridiculed. Of course I had to keep making light of my realisation.

However I was glad to see they’d seen the error of their ways and decided to be there for me. I didn’t have to carry this burden by myself. I now know how Superman felt when he finally confided in Lois Lane

“You could be like one of those characters in ‘Heroes’!” suggested Julia

Bini agreed immediately “Yes, you have the power to change weather. Only you didn’t realise it at first, let alone know how to harness it. You could never explain the weird things that would just happen.”

“So instead you lived your life as some freak loner,” Julia said “…Only you’re not, coz you’ve always had us.’ She added on as an after thought.

“But one day, the earth comes be under attack from the super villain Global Warming Man.” Described Bini.

“You and he are polar opposites. He with sunshine and you with rain. You were meant to work in harmony to keep this planet safe. Only his head was turned by evil,” Explained Julia. “And then you realise, you need to use your powers to save the world. You and you alone can make all this extra sunshine disappear, by having extra sunny thoughts,”

“And the only way to save the world is to feel happy. Only you can’t, coz the weather will only change when you envisage happiness.” Bini began to crank up her story telling technique by introducing dramatic hand gestures. “And how can you conjure up the feelings of happiness when the world is in peril.”

“When your loved ones are in peril,” Julia dramatically added on.

There was silence…

“And then you see him.” Bini suddenly pipes up causing Julia and I to jump.

“Him?” I ask

“Him, Mr DbT. And you think of your life with him, and you smile. Suddenly Global Warming Man screams in pain. He is weakening….And that’s when you realise how to use your powers. You take them happy thoughts and transfer them and use them against Global Warming Man.”

“And you save the world…Yaaaaaay!” Julia smiled, jumping up and down and clapping like a demented seal.

And once again there was silence.
At this stage I’m very worried as they both have very high paid, high pressured and high powered jobs in the city.
However this Jackanory tag team continued.

“Despite saving the world, your happiness doesn’t last,” Bini began again.

“Does it not? Why?” I asked

“Well its like we said, you have power to change the weather with your emotional intent. And the kind of happiness you imagine having with Mr DbT could also take the world to the brink of destruction, in the opposite way to global warming.” Julia explained with a rather sober tone.

And well, (dramatic pause – really the wrong friend studied drama) for the sake of the planet, you have to give up your love.” Bini now looked a touch confused. She couldn’t decide if this was the bit where she should burst into tears at the so called loss of my love. So instead, she just stood there and shrugged at me.

“But you won’t be lonely coz you’ll have us!” announced Julia, with Bini suddenly nodding in agreement. I was now faced with two sets of teeth beaming at me.

“Wow I feel so much better knowing I have you two.…Have the pair of you been drinking all afternoon?”

“Yep!” obediently came two dodgy nods in unison.

At which point I turned towards the barman and said, “I’ll have what ever they’re on – make it double.”

For the record, before either of their bosses read this and decide to fire them on the grounds of being mentally unhinged. I can assure you they do not believe I have genuine weather changing powers.
The pair had no intention of being supportive of my burden, but rather abuse it for their selfish gains.
They were after a freebie.
A TV guide magazine was running a competition, ‘write a treatment for an episode of Heroes set in London.’
If Julia and Bini won, they get a holiday for two in the states, which includes, flights, five night accommodation at a top hotel, £3000 spending money and they get to meet the cast of ‘Heroes’.

THOUGHT PROCESS AT TIME
Oh! How lonely at the top?

MY OATH TO THE NATION - I, Jo Jo – Miss Havoc on legs, do solemnly swear that from this point onwards shall never envisage any thoughts of being happy in the sunshine… no, not at all. Not one thought will enter my mind…although I might wear my new 3¼ length cotton culottes on Wednesday as Mr DbT is taking to see an open air Jazz concert…Oh it’s clouding over…Yikes!!!!!