I really badly need a decent haircut.....

Thanks to Veronica (somedaywewillsleep) & Kim (frogpondsrock) I have pinched the idea of passing on a blog I read.  I thought about showing another but because I am selfish I quite like it being my guilty pleasure, not yet ready to share.

So it is my pleasure to direct you to Mr London Street - http://mrlondonstreet.blogspot.com/2010/10/self-help.html

I have a feeling anyone who visits here reads this brilliant blog already but I am nothing if predictable.  Mr London Street is a breath of fresh air.  A man who talks properly about stuff!

After recently saying I don't know who visits here I have found that stats are available to me.  I now know that those who visit here are a direct result of where I comment.  I think perhaps I should have emigrated a long time ago.  I turned down the opportunity to go to Australia/Taz with a boyfriend, I regret the not going to Australia/Taz but not the not going with 'that' boyfriend'.  When young I had a habit of falling for looks and charm forgetting to check out, verity & probity.  So it was with great pleasure when said boyfriend contacted me a couple of years ago, visiting from Bermuda where he now lives with a beautiful but incredibly dense girlfriend. (So why was he contacting me, nothing changed there then) stating that he would love to see me.  After 25 frigging years.  Don't get me wrong a bit of me wanted to say - Oh all right then.  But I am not as young as I was & I like the idea of him remembering me as I was and frankly I wanted him to want to see me and me say no.  I did that.  He immediately said - Oh & a Happy Christmas to you too and slammed the phone down!  Did I leave out that he could always have done with a few more manners.

Had I stayed with him, we would be rich & I would be unhappy.  He was a serial womaniser.  His father in fact was a bigamist.  A man who was married to a wonderful sincere woman (the wife I knew) who found out after many years of marriage that he had a whole other family & wife.  My ex was the type that would fly back into the country - he worked abroad.  Waltz into my life, sweep me off my feet each time and I subsequently found out was doing this to other women in other countries.  I cried and cried fruitless tears over that arsehole.  So when he rang, it was with great pleasure that I not only said - no thanks my husband and I are going out but also rather unnecessarily - (pretend name) Andy who?  I'm afraid I really don't remember you.

I do still have a photo of him in all honesty.  I take it out occasionally to remind me how lucky I am.  My OH has his faults and I talked latterly of marriage and the bits I would change if I knew how.  But do you know what, I would rather have Mr Achelois than that arsehole each and every day.  The only bit I regret is that I didn't play him because if I had I would have got to go to Australia, Taz........   but then again I wouldn't have met Mr Achelois and that would have been a tragedy.

Not sure why I blogged about that. Perhaps its because I have a temperature.  Following the ear drum incision and hoovering.  (can't spell the procedure) I have a bloody infection in the air sac? in the bone behind my ear.  I spent a wonderful hour and twenty f'ing minutes waiting to see a doctor.  Amongst people who frankly should have been at home in bed.  Why people go to the doctor with the common cold is beyond me.  You have a cold, stay at home, stop spreading your germs and put your f'ing hand over your mouth when you cough. Please.  To the mother whose 7 year old daughter was vomiting into a bucket, did you not think she may have been more comfortable with you holding that bucket by her bed at home.  The gp was not best pleased.  I must admit I had bad thoughts about her, I am not good with anyone outside my immediate family's vomit I am afraid.  I hope the poor child vomited all over her car and the particularly smelly bits stick down the sides of the seat and stink forever.

  I have never met the gp I saw today before.  He was very nervous and running very late.  I don't think long qualified.  In time I have no doubt he will stop shaking and give diagnosis with confidence.  In the meantime I really really feel for him.  No doubt he went into the profession  because he is a genuinely nice person wanting to heal the sick.  In some years he will learn to go on expensive holidays and bitch along with the others about Mr Borings piles and Mrs Moanalot's snotty kids.  Can you tell I waited too long.  I am a nice person really and I spent the majority of my time talking to a very lonely old lady who had shingles.  Now I have had shingles and I was looked after.  She was vulnerable and lonely and had no one to look after her.  She probably caught something nasty waiting.  What has happened to the old days when gp's visited the sick at home?

I remember as a child our local doctor (we lived rurally) would set up shop in the back room of the pub.  Those were the days.  As I get older I am aware that I have probably more to look back on than years to live.  The older I get the more I remember.  I particularly like it that for the most part it is with rose coloured spectacles!

I have just realised that I am reminiscing because have myelin (see blogs I like to right) posted about diaries.  I commented that my diary is in my head.  Apart that is from the crap I write here.......