Grandmama's sister, Great Aunt Celine, is staying with Grandmama until the new year.
Like Grandmama, Great Aunt Celine has an air of sophistication. She's beautiful and holds herself with grace and elegance.
That is where the similarity ends.
Grandmama is a homely woman. She's embraced family life, knows how to bake, knit and other grandmother-like things. Great Aunt Celine is slightly eccentric.
She was married. Several times.
Husband Number 1 was quite a few years older than she was. He was a soldier in WWII. His family at the time were based in a northern village in France, his wife and baby daughter. It's not quite clear what happened to his family, all I know is that he lost them in 1944.
For five years he lived alone in Paris, until Great Aunt Celine stumbled into his life.
The poor man was trying desperately to read his newspaper quietly in a cafe. Celine spotted the serious looking man in the corner and thought it would be fun to blow smoke at him to see how angry she could make him.
Apparently he "loved her" that very night... (ew!) and they got married a month later.
He was a wonderful husband, and would have probably made a good father, but Great Aunt Celine got bored with him quite soon after he slipped the ring on her finger, and she decided to keep a lover on the side.
Husband Number 2 was that lover. He was nearer to Celine's age and she felt more comfortable with him on a "social level". Husband Number 1 knew about Celine's lover, but chose to turn a blind eye to the situation. Celine preferred it that way and enjoyed the sneaking about.
Obviously Husband Number 1 got a little cheesed off with the situation and eventually divorced Celine, leaving her free to marry her lover.
Husband Number 2 was a fun husband. They went dancing together. They liked to smoke on the balcony and talk about poetry and the theatre. They were happy for over four years.
Until he found himself a mistress.
Husband Number 2 was an honorable man and told Celine that he intended to take a mistress before her actually did. He swore to Celine that they would always remain husband and wife and that nobody would ever take her place in his heart.
Celine played the dutiful wife and gracefully accepted his mistress. Husband Number 2 had fun with Claudette, and Celine transferred their savings to a personal account and moved out.
Husband Number 2 understood and gave her an easy divorce.
Husband Number 3 came a few years later. He was Celine's real love. They met through a mutual friend and became quick friends. Their friendship developed into love and they eventually swore to be with each other always.
They bought a beautiful home and decorated it themselves. It took them two months to paint the living room. Husband Number 3 painted a mural of a tree on one wall and he was adamant on getting the shade of each leaf perfect.
He left her the home they built together. There was nobody else. He left everything to her in his Will.
Not surprisingly, Great Aunt Celine has alot of stories to tell and advise to give.
"Elise, how is your sex life?" she asked me last night, in a serious tone.
What was I supposed to say? "Yes, my sex life is amazing. My orgasms are as strong as ever."
"Because, Cherie, you have only to ask and I will be happy to advise you."
No thanks! The last thing I need is my great aunt giving me that kind of advise.
She smiled wistfully "My second husband was very good with his mouth-"
"Stop! Oh my God! Stop!"
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
Sunday, 6 September 2009
Elise Returns
It's been pretty crazy.
The first two weeks were spent in a slump of depression. I mean actual depression.
Sister came to stay and we did nothing but lounge around in our pajamas staring into space. Occasionally one of us would speak.
"He doesn't know where the Lenor goes. How is he going to do his laundry? Should I call him? I should. I'm going to call him."
She didn't call. And I never answered her.
I was listening.
Subconsciously.
"How can the doctors say "it's just one of those things" and "it's nature's way"? What kind of bullshit answer is that? Their supposed to be scientists, but when it comes to something that they don't know it becomes "nature's way". What the fuck?!"
It worked both ways. She never answered. And in all honesty I don't think she was even listening.
But I needed her there. Just like she needed me.
Then of course Solicitor lost it with the both of us. Over a bowl of dry pasta and frozen garlic bread.
It wasn't the fact that I'd over boiled the pasta and completely forgot to cook some sauce. It wasn't even the fact that Sister forgot to switch the oven on to cook the pathetic roll of garlic bread. It was the fact that we'd spent over two hours preparing the meal.
Solicitor, like most men when they get back from work, was hungry. He was tired and slightly moody. He'd reached for a menu and I'd felt the first stirrings of guilt. I insisted that I'd cook. Sister numbly got up from the sofa to help.
Two hours later Solicitor stared at the breakfast bar and completely flipped out. Sister cried. For the first time in weeks. I sobbed my heart out. For the first time in weeks. Solicitor told us both that he'd book us both for an appointment if we didn't sort ourselves out.
British people don't go to doctors for those kind of problems. There's nothing ever wrong with us. Complain? Yes. Admit that it's affecting us? No way! We don't do psychological traumas. We don't have them.
So the next day Sister moved back home. Nephew missed her terribly and moving home got her back into a routine.
I signed up with an agency and began temping.
Temping is an odd world. Honestly, people assume that you're pretty thick if you're a temp.
"Can you staple these two documents together? Please make sure the pages are in order. It makes sense when they're in order."
You don't say!
It keeps me busy. And I meet new people.
I've started planning my wedding. Sometimes flower arrangements are so fascinating. Other times I toss the wedding magazines aside with zero interest and tell Solicitor that I think it would be better if we just eloped.
The last time I said that he actually scared me a little. He told me that he'd looked into a Vegas wedding at he'd really love to do the Elvis thing. I must have looked so shocked and freaked out that he laughed at me and handed me the new bride gown catalogue that I ordered. I haven't complained much since then...
The first two weeks were spent in a slump of depression. I mean actual depression.
Sister came to stay and we did nothing but lounge around in our pajamas staring into space. Occasionally one of us would speak.
"He doesn't know where the Lenor goes. How is he going to do his laundry? Should I call him? I should. I'm going to call him."
She didn't call. And I never answered her.
I was listening.
Subconsciously.
"How can the doctors say "it's just one of those things" and "it's nature's way"? What kind of bullshit answer is that? Their supposed to be scientists, but when it comes to something that they don't know it becomes "nature's way". What the fuck?!"
It worked both ways. She never answered. And in all honesty I don't think she was even listening.
But I needed her there. Just like she needed me.
Then of course Solicitor lost it with the both of us. Over a bowl of dry pasta and frozen garlic bread.
It wasn't the fact that I'd over boiled the pasta and completely forgot to cook some sauce. It wasn't even the fact that Sister forgot to switch the oven on to cook the pathetic roll of garlic bread. It was the fact that we'd spent over two hours preparing the meal.
Solicitor, like most men when they get back from work, was hungry. He was tired and slightly moody. He'd reached for a menu and I'd felt the first stirrings of guilt. I insisted that I'd cook. Sister numbly got up from the sofa to help.
Two hours later Solicitor stared at the breakfast bar and completely flipped out. Sister cried. For the first time in weeks. I sobbed my heart out. For the first time in weeks. Solicitor told us both that he'd book us both for an appointment if we didn't sort ourselves out.
British people don't go to doctors for those kind of problems. There's nothing ever wrong with us. Complain? Yes. Admit that it's affecting us? No way! We don't do psychological traumas. We don't have them.
So the next day Sister moved back home. Nephew missed her terribly and moving home got her back into a routine.
I signed up with an agency and began temping.
Temping is an odd world. Honestly, people assume that you're pretty thick if you're a temp.
"Can you staple these two documents together? Please make sure the pages are in order. It makes sense when they're in order."
You don't say!
It keeps me busy. And I meet new people.
I've started planning my wedding. Sometimes flower arrangements are so fascinating. Other times I toss the wedding magazines aside with zero interest and tell Solicitor that I think it would be better if we just eloped.
The last time I said that he actually scared me a little. He told me that he'd looked into a Vegas wedding at he'd really love to do the Elvis thing. I must have looked so shocked and freaked out that he laughed at me and handed me the new bride gown catalogue that I ordered. I haven't complained much since then...
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Lost in Translation
Sometimes when the phone rings I feel a little apprehensive.
Aimee has been known to stalk us once in a while, and when she's crying I can't help but try and help her.
Yesterday afternoon I was right to feel nervous.
"Oi Elise, como você é? parabéns!"
Oh shit! It was Solicitor's grandmother. She doesn't speak English and I don't speak Portugese. I could attempt to get by in Spanish.
"Hola, estoy bien. Cómo es usted?"
"Sou tão feliz para você. Depois que tudo que você foi por, merece alguma felicidade."
Um. What the fuck?
It's so much easier to communicate when you're in front of the person. You can get by on nods and hand gestures. How the hell was I supposed to do it over the phone?
"Um, hang on one second. Un momento."
I ran to the book shelve with the cordless phone and pulled open the Portugese dictionary.
I always see people in films getting by with a dictionary. That is a complete lie! I had no idea how to begin. Do I attempt to translate and then find a translation for my answer? That would take too long.
I pulled out my mobile and called Solicitor.
"You have to help me!" I whispered urgently. "I don't understand a word your grandmother is saying."
"She's there with you?" Solicitor sounded shocked.
Avó can barely walk. She's 4 foot nothing with extremely frail bones.
"She's on the phone!"
"Tell her you'll call her back. We'll speak to her when I get home."
"Okay. How?"
"Say 'Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?'"
I lifted the cordless
"Hello! Um Hola!"
"Olá. Costas bem-vindas. Onde foi?"
I lifted my mobile.
"She said 'Onde foi'?"
"Elise, just repeat what I said. I haven't got time to translate a female gossiping session."
"Okay. What did you say again?"
"Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite."
I lifted the cordless.
"Avó, Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?"
"Naturalmente você pode telefonar me mais tarde. Acabo de querer felicitá-lo, mas esperarei até que meu neto volta para casa. Será melhor se traduz."
I lifted my mobile.
"She said 'se traduz'?"
Solicitor breathed in frustration.
"I've got a meeting in ten minutes. Say goodbye to her and I'll call her later."
He hung up on me! I lifted the cordless. All I have to do is say goodbye. Without sounding like a complete idiot.
"Hola Avó. Um. Hablaré con usted pronto. Adiós?"
"Tá bom. Falarei a você mais tarde. Tome cuidado. Bye."
Yes! I said goodbye without any help! Okay, it was in Spanish, but she obviously understood me.
I really should read the Portugese books that I bought. But to be fair, Solicitor's grandmother is the only one in his whole family that doesn't speak English.
They're all pretty fluent in their mother tongue though. Sometimes they all chatter in a mix of both English and Portugese. They flick between to two with ease, I'm almost jealous at times.
Grandmama used to tell me to learn other languages when I was growing up. I learnt the basics of French and Spanish. French, because Grandmama (and my mother) are originally from France, and Spanish because of my father. But I didn't learn them fluently. I speak enough to get by; "Can I get a taxi?" "I live in a semi-detached house." "How much is that red dress?"
After yesterday I have a new-found project. I am going to learn to speak Portugese fluently. I am also going to brush up on my French and Spanish.
I also want to learn Japanese. You never know when you'll need to use it.
Oh, and German. German is a good language to learn.
And Polish. There are lots of Polish people in London now. It'll help if I know what they're saying.
Okay, I'm going to need to prioritise. In order of importance:
Portugese
French
Spanish (French and Spanish will be easy to brush up on, so really it won't take too long)
Japanese (in case I want to do business in Japan, which could happen)
German (good because... well its just good to know)
Polish (I want to get a new kitchen fitted soon)
Greek (I have a friend who lives in Cyprus. The last time I visited her the gardener was talking to me. He could have been chatting me up. Or he could have been asking me what I think of the new potatoes)
Maybe I should switch German and Polish. I'm more likely to need Polish before German right?
Right. I'm going to start. Tomorrow.
Not Tomorrow. Monday. Yes, Monday.
Aimee has been known to stalk us once in a while, and when she's crying I can't help but try and help her.
Yesterday afternoon I was right to feel nervous.
"Oi Elise, como você é? parabéns!"
Oh shit! It was Solicitor's grandmother. She doesn't speak English and I don't speak Portugese. I could attempt to get by in Spanish.
"Hola, estoy bien. Cómo es usted?"
"Sou tão feliz para você. Depois que tudo que você foi por, merece alguma felicidade."
Um. What the fuck?
It's so much easier to communicate when you're in front of the person. You can get by on nods and hand gestures. How the hell was I supposed to do it over the phone?
"Um, hang on one second. Un momento."
I ran to the book shelve with the cordless phone and pulled open the Portugese dictionary.
I always see people in films getting by with a dictionary. That is a complete lie! I had no idea how to begin. Do I attempt to translate and then find a translation for my answer? That would take too long.
I pulled out my mobile and called Solicitor.
"You have to help me!" I whispered urgently. "I don't understand a word your grandmother is saying."
"She's there with you?" Solicitor sounded shocked.
Avó can barely walk. She's 4 foot nothing with extremely frail bones.
"She's on the phone!"
"Tell her you'll call her back. We'll speak to her when I get home."
"Okay. How?"
"Say 'Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?'"
I lifted the cordless
"Hello! Um Hola!"
"Olá. Costas bem-vindas. Onde foi?"
I lifted my mobile.
"She said 'Onde foi'?"
"Elise, just repeat what I said. I haven't got time to translate a female gossiping session."
"Okay. What did you say again?"
"Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite."
I lifted the cordless.
"Avó, Posso telefoná-lo mais tarde esta noite?"
"Naturalmente você pode telefonar me mais tarde. Acabo de querer felicitá-lo, mas esperarei até que meu neto volta para casa. Será melhor se traduz."
I lifted my mobile.
"She said 'se traduz'?"
Solicitor breathed in frustration.
"I've got a meeting in ten minutes. Say goodbye to her and I'll call her later."
He hung up on me! I lifted the cordless. All I have to do is say goodbye. Without sounding like a complete idiot.
"Hola Avó. Um. Hablaré con usted pronto. Adiós?"
"Tá bom. Falarei a você mais tarde. Tome cuidado. Bye."
Yes! I said goodbye without any help! Okay, it was in Spanish, but she obviously understood me.
I really should read the Portugese books that I bought. But to be fair, Solicitor's grandmother is the only one in his whole family that doesn't speak English.
They're all pretty fluent in their mother tongue though. Sometimes they all chatter in a mix of both English and Portugese. They flick between to two with ease, I'm almost jealous at times.
Grandmama used to tell me to learn other languages when I was growing up. I learnt the basics of French and Spanish. French, because Grandmama (and my mother) are originally from France, and Spanish because of my father. But I didn't learn them fluently. I speak enough to get by; "Can I get a taxi?" "I live in a semi-detached house." "How much is that red dress?"
After yesterday I have a new-found project. I am going to learn to speak Portugese fluently. I am also going to brush up on my French and Spanish.
I also want to learn Japanese. You never know when you'll need to use it.
Oh, and German. German is a good language to learn.
And Polish. There are lots of Polish people in London now. It'll help if I know what they're saying.
Okay, I'm going to need to prioritise. In order of importance:
Portugese
French
Spanish (French and Spanish will be easy to brush up on, so really it won't take too long)
Japanese (in case I want to do business in Japan, which could happen)
German (good because... well its just good to know)
Polish (I want to get a new kitchen fitted soon)
Greek (I have a friend who lives in Cyprus. The last time I visited her the gardener was talking to me. He could have been chatting me up. Or he could have been asking me what I think of the new potatoes)
Maybe I should switch German and Polish. I'm more likely to need Polish before German right?
Right. I'm going to start. Tomorrow.
Not Tomorrow. Monday. Yes, Monday.
Monday, 8 June 2009
Gifts: Three from Stoner, One from Solicitor
Stoner came over on Friday night. Bearing gifts.
He brought an eighth, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a phone number.
I don't smoke weed, unless I'm in Amsterdam (three times a year). Stoner smokes all the time, and on Friday he strongly believed I should get stoned and drunk. I politely refused the green and graciously accepted the Jack Daniels.
Solicitor, Stoner and I filled our glasses and ordered pizza. It was nice of them to do that. Stoner's not the type to display too much sympathy, he helps by being normal. We set up ludo and ended up playing for hours.
At around 11 Stoner picked up his phone and made a call. He spoke briefly before handing me the phone.
It was Gay Boss! I couldn't believe it. He'd disappeared off the planet and I hadn't spoken to him in months. Just hearing his voice made me laugh. He's the most sarcastic, cynical person on the face of the earth.
"What have you gone and done, Elise? I leave the country for a few months and you go and fuck up like that."
If any other person said what he said I would have cried. Instead I smiled and asked him where he was. He's in Miami. Not exactly his normal travelling destination.
"It's a different world out hear. I've never seen so many plastic people in my life. It's like walking into the Barbie mansion."
"You'd know wouldn't you? I thought you were in China."
"I was. I got bored."
"Bored?"
"Yeah, the girl I was travelling with got yellow fever."
"Excuse me?!"
"Her words. She said she's got a bad case of yellow fever. Can't stop getting off on chinks."
Only Gay Boss can deliver a line like that with utmost seriousness.
"Decided to pack up and leave so she could move Wong in. Felt like a change anyway. Got bored of eating noodles and cat."
"You should have come home."
"Why? I like it here. I've already made five people cry."
"Wow. You're lagging behind."
"Five people, today."
"Oh."
"It's too easy. These people really take things personally. This one woman asked me if I was a football hooligan. I asked her if she was trying to look like a plastic slag. I think I might have upset her."
"She should have asked you if you like being a prick."
"I didn't mean to hurt her. I was genuinely interested. She didn't even bother to answer the question."
Gay Boss is seriously dry and deadpan. Most people cry around him.
We spoke for about half an hour. He spoke about himself. And I appreciated that. The last thing I wanted was to talk about it.
Stoner didn't stay long afterwards. He called a cab and left at around midnight. I sat on the sofa with Solicitor leaning on his shoulder. I felt pretty tipsy.
"I need to air out the house." I groaned. "It smells like weed."
"You need to start talking." Solicitor said back.
I slipped down and rested my head on his lap. He absently stroked my hair behind my ears. I love people playing with my hair, I find it so relaxing. I closed my eyes, wanting to sleep.
"Don't sleep. Talk."
"Lets wait until tomorrow."
"That's what you said yesterday."
"Can we forget about it?"
"No."
"I want to have a baby."
To be honest I didn't even think about having another one up until I said it. I opened my eyes, partly in surprise and partly because I wanted to see Solicitor's reaction.
He looked uncertain.
"We can't replace what we lost." He said finally. "Heal first."
"You don't want another one." I couldn't help feeling hurt about it. He was so happy when I told him I was pregnant. Maybe he didn't think he could trust me to look after another one. That I wasn't worthy.
"I want children with you. But not like this. Wait a little. We have other things to do."
"Like what? What else is there to do?"
My eyes filled with tears. I wasn't pregnant for too long, but already my world had changed. I couldn't imagine not having a baby on the way.
"Elise, I want us to get married first."
It wasn't the first time we spoke about marriage. We always assumed we'd always be together. But there was something different this time.
"I'm asking you to marry me."
"Why?"
Okay, not exactly the most romantic response, but I really needed to know. Was he asking so that we could try for another baby. Was he asking to 'heal' the pain?
"I'm asking because I love you, and I want you to be my wife. I've been planning on it for a long time."
He gently slid away from me and stood up. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a tattered little box. Inside was a beautiful engagement ring. Aside from the large diamond in the middle, it has tiny encrusted ones all the way around the band.
Solicitor's grandfather proposed to his grandmother with that very ring. It was passed to Solicitor's father, the eldest son. And I guess to was passed to Solicitor. Solicitor slid it on my finger and told me that now it belongs to me.
"You didn't give it to Aimee?"
"No. I didn't want her to have it."
I did cry then. Buckets of tears. Tears of happiness.
I imagined being proposed to in so many situations.
I thought that when Billy proposed to Mo with alphabet spaghetti, it was really sweet. Marry Me written in the middle of a plate, after they had their fish fingers. Solicitor thought I was joking when I told him that I cried when I saw it. He teased me and asked me if I secretly wish I was a working class east-ender.
The proposition in Serendipity was nice too. A large boxed gift with lots of smaller boxes. The last one containing the ring. Solicitor agreed with me. It was pretty cute.
I never wanted to be proposed to with an audience. Some people love the idea of an entire restaurant witnessing, clapping and cheering. I knew I'd hate something like that. It had to be in private.
Solicitor has always been pretty intense and passionate (I guess the Mediterranean background accounts for that). I knew that whenever he asked, if he asked, it would be amazing and I wasn't wrong.
He brought an eighth, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a phone number.
I don't smoke weed, unless I'm in Amsterdam (three times a year). Stoner smokes all the time, and on Friday he strongly believed I should get stoned and drunk. I politely refused the green and graciously accepted the Jack Daniels.
Solicitor, Stoner and I filled our glasses and ordered pizza. It was nice of them to do that. Stoner's not the type to display too much sympathy, he helps by being normal. We set up ludo and ended up playing for hours.
At around 11 Stoner picked up his phone and made a call. He spoke briefly before handing me the phone.
It was Gay Boss! I couldn't believe it. He'd disappeared off the planet and I hadn't spoken to him in months. Just hearing his voice made me laugh. He's the most sarcastic, cynical person on the face of the earth.
"What have you gone and done, Elise? I leave the country for a few months and you go and fuck up like that."
If any other person said what he said I would have cried. Instead I smiled and asked him where he was. He's in Miami. Not exactly his normal travelling destination.
"It's a different world out hear. I've never seen so many plastic people in my life. It's like walking into the Barbie mansion."
"You'd know wouldn't you? I thought you were in China."
"I was. I got bored."
"Bored?"
"Yeah, the girl I was travelling with got yellow fever."
"Excuse me?!"
"Her words. She said she's got a bad case of yellow fever. Can't stop getting off on chinks."
Only Gay Boss can deliver a line like that with utmost seriousness.
"Decided to pack up and leave so she could move Wong in. Felt like a change anyway. Got bored of eating noodles and cat."
"You should have come home."
"Why? I like it here. I've already made five people cry."
"Wow. You're lagging behind."
"Five people, today."
"Oh."
"It's too easy. These people really take things personally. This one woman asked me if I was a football hooligan. I asked her if she was trying to look like a plastic slag. I think I might have upset her."
"She should have asked you if you like being a prick."
"I didn't mean to hurt her. I was genuinely interested. She didn't even bother to answer the question."
Gay Boss is seriously dry and deadpan. Most people cry around him.
We spoke for about half an hour. He spoke about himself. And I appreciated that. The last thing I wanted was to talk about it.
Stoner didn't stay long afterwards. He called a cab and left at around midnight. I sat on the sofa with Solicitor leaning on his shoulder. I felt pretty tipsy.
"I need to air out the house." I groaned. "It smells like weed."
"You need to start talking." Solicitor said back.
I slipped down and rested my head on his lap. He absently stroked my hair behind my ears. I love people playing with my hair, I find it so relaxing. I closed my eyes, wanting to sleep.
"Don't sleep. Talk."
"Lets wait until tomorrow."
"That's what you said yesterday."
"Can we forget about it?"
"No."
"I want to have a baby."
To be honest I didn't even think about having another one up until I said it. I opened my eyes, partly in surprise and partly because I wanted to see Solicitor's reaction.
He looked uncertain.
"We can't replace what we lost." He said finally. "Heal first."
"You don't want another one." I couldn't help feeling hurt about it. He was so happy when I told him I was pregnant. Maybe he didn't think he could trust me to look after another one. That I wasn't worthy.
"I want children with you. But not like this. Wait a little. We have other things to do."
"Like what? What else is there to do?"
My eyes filled with tears. I wasn't pregnant for too long, but already my world had changed. I couldn't imagine not having a baby on the way.
"Elise, I want us to get married first."
It wasn't the first time we spoke about marriage. We always assumed we'd always be together. But there was something different this time.
"I'm asking you to marry me."
"Why?"
Okay, not exactly the most romantic response, but I really needed to know. Was he asking so that we could try for another baby. Was he asking to 'heal' the pain?
"I'm asking because I love you, and I want you to be my wife. I've been planning on it for a long time."
He gently slid away from me and stood up. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a tattered little box. Inside was a beautiful engagement ring. Aside from the large diamond in the middle, it has tiny encrusted ones all the way around the band.
Solicitor's grandfather proposed to his grandmother with that very ring. It was passed to Solicitor's father, the eldest son. And I guess to was passed to Solicitor. Solicitor slid it on my finger and told me that now it belongs to me.
"You didn't give it to Aimee?"
"No. I didn't want her to have it."
I did cry then. Buckets of tears. Tears of happiness.
I imagined being proposed to in so many situations.
I thought that when Billy proposed to Mo with alphabet spaghetti, it was really sweet. Marry Me written in the middle of a plate, after they had their fish fingers. Solicitor thought I was joking when I told him that I cried when I saw it. He teased me and asked me if I secretly wish I was a working class east-ender.
The proposition in Serendipity was nice too. A large boxed gift with lots of smaller boxes. The last one containing the ring. Solicitor agreed with me. It was pretty cute.
I never wanted to be proposed to with an audience. Some people love the idea of an entire restaurant witnessing, clapping and cheering. I knew I'd hate something like that. It had to be in private.
Solicitor has always been pretty intense and passionate (I guess the Mediterranean background accounts for that). I knew that whenever he asked, if he asked, it would be amazing and I wasn't wrong.
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Sunflowers
Solicitor bought me some sunflowers today. Beautiful flowers. My favourite flowers. I love the way the flower is so open. Yellow always makes me smile.
My baby is gone and I don't know why. I keep thinking back to everything I did that day, everything I ate. I even listed the ingredients on the back of all the packages and googled the potential dangers.
Solicitor's worried. I don't mean to worry him, I just don't want to talk about it. I feel too guilty.
The day it happened was a day like any other. Solicitor was in the living room watching the evening news. The weather was so beautiful. We were going to go to the park for a walk. I went to change my shoes and go to the bathroom.
I didn't even feel any pain until I saw the blood.
I never thought it would happen. It sounds so selfish, but I truly believed that it would never happen to me.
I walked into the living. So calm. It was like it was someone else walking. I told Solicitor that I wanted to go to the hospital.
I wanted to drive. It sounds crazy, but I was so angry with him when he took the keys away from me. I didn't understand why he wouldn't let me, and I dissolved into sobs.
He's the greatest man in the world. He held me close when they told us and he never let me go.
He was upset too, I could see it in his eyes, but he stayed strong for me.
I wish he wasn't upset. It makes me feel worse knowing that he lost something too. I was supposed to look after our son, but I failed.
Its been a few days. I've spoken to lots of people. They're all very sorry. If I need anything, they're all there for me.
Grandmama spent yesterday with me. She made me hot chocolate. When I didn't drink it she poured me a whisky, my first drink in months. She packed away the baby stuff. I told her to throw it away but she said that she'd take it with her and save it for me.
Bimbo cried more than I did. I felt myself shaking when she called. I couldn't speak to her for long, it was too emotional.
Mother made me the most angry. She told me that it doesn't matter. It wasn't planned so it shouldn't be too much of a loss. I hung up on her and I refuse to speak to her.
Sister was the easiest to talk to. Misery likes company. Its a sad fact. I told her I didn't want to talk and she told me that she did. She cried because her marriage is over and I felt useful when I comforted her.
I shouldn't feel glad to hear her troubles. I love her and I truly wish she wasn't going through what she is. But she's the only one I can speak to over the phone. If she wasn't going through her own troubles I would have hung up on her too.
My baby is gone and I don't know why. I keep thinking back to everything I did that day, everything I ate. I even listed the ingredients on the back of all the packages and googled the potential dangers.
Solicitor's worried. I don't mean to worry him, I just don't want to talk about it. I feel too guilty.
The day it happened was a day like any other. Solicitor was in the living room watching the evening news. The weather was so beautiful. We were going to go to the park for a walk. I went to change my shoes and go to the bathroom.
I didn't even feel any pain until I saw the blood.
I never thought it would happen. It sounds so selfish, but I truly believed that it would never happen to me.
I walked into the living. So calm. It was like it was someone else walking. I told Solicitor that I wanted to go to the hospital.
I wanted to drive. It sounds crazy, but I was so angry with him when he took the keys away from me. I didn't understand why he wouldn't let me, and I dissolved into sobs.
He's the greatest man in the world. He held me close when they told us and he never let me go.
He was upset too, I could see it in his eyes, but he stayed strong for me.
I wish he wasn't upset. It makes me feel worse knowing that he lost something too. I was supposed to look after our son, but I failed.
Its been a few days. I've spoken to lots of people. They're all very sorry. If I need anything, they're all there for me.
Grandmama spent yesterday with me. She made me hot chocolate. When I didn't drink it she poured me a whisky, my first drink in months. She packed away the baby stuff. I told her to throw it away but she said that she'd take it with her and save it for me.
Bimbo cried more than I did. I felt myself shaking when she called. I couldn't speak to her for long, it was too emotional.
Mother made me the most angry. She told me that it doesn't matter. It wasn't planned so it shouldn't be too much of a loss. I hung up on her and I refuse to speak to her.
Sister was the easiest to talk to. Misery likes company. Its a sad fact. I told her I didn't want to talk and she told me that she did. She cried because her marriage is over and I felt useful when I comforted her.
I shouldn't feel glad to hear her troubles. I love her and I truly wish she wasn't going through what she is. But she's the only one I can speak to over the phone. If she wasn't going through her own troubles I would have hung up on her too.
Wednesday, 27 May 2009
The Police Interview
I've been pretty tired. Too tired to blog. Too tired to read (and believe me I've missed reading blogs).
There's been little progress on CEO's claim. Obviously the police have to investigate every case that gets thrown their way, no matter how stupid it may seem.
Apparently it wasn't always like that. Before the "terror" attacks, the police would refuse to view cases if they didn't deem them as important. Now all cases are important. Talk about a waste of resources.
So last week the PO in charge of the case called me and asked me to come in for a friendly interview.
I said no.
He said if I refuse he'll have to come and collect me.
I was excited. I'd be one of those badass bitches. Maybe I could wear my leather jacket, some eyeliner...
"You mean you'll arrest me?!"
"It's not that dramatic."
"Will you cuff me?"
"No."
"Read me my rights?"
"Yes."
"Can we have the siren on?"
Pause
"This isn't a movie. And to be honest, the case is seriously minor."
"No excitement?"
"No."
"Oh. Okay."
In the end I drove down. They made me nice cup of ginger tea. (The metropolitan police budget includes Twinnings Special Tea! ps: Thanks Kitty, Crag and Angel for the tips) And they asked me a stream of questions.
I was there for about an hour. The PO looked like he was going to burst out laughing during the session. Believe me I held nothing back.
"This isn't the first time they've called the police." I told him. "CEO called the fraud squad once. Some one had a misspelling on their website."
That was a funny incident. They asked him how much money the company had lost because of it. CEO's attitude was "We didn't actually lose anything, but we could have lost money."
It's like leaving you're car door unlocked and calling the police the next day:
"Sir, you're car hasn't been stolen." "Yes, but the point is, it could have been."
How do people that stupid survive in the world? I hate the fact that they waltz through life without a fucking clue!
There's been little progress on CEO's claim. Obviously the police have to investigate every case that gets thrown their way, no matter how stupid it may seem.
Apparently it wasn't always like that. Before the "terror" attacks, the police would refuse to view cases if they didn't deem them as important. Now all cases are important. Talk about a waste of resources.
So last week the PO in charge of the case called me and asked me to come in for a friendly interview.
I said no.
He said if I refuse he'll have to come and collect me.
I was excited. I'd be one of those badass bitches. Maybe I could wear my leather jacket, some eyeliner...
"You mean you'll arrest me?!"
"It's not that dramatic."
"Will you cuff me?"
"No."
"Read me my rights?"
"Yes."
"Can we have the siren on?"
Pause
"This isn't a movie. And to be honest, the case is seriously minor."
"No excitement?"
"No."
"Oh. Okay."
In the end I drove down. They made me nice cup of ginger tea. (The metropolitan police budget includes Twinnings Special Tea! ps: Thanks Kitty, Crag and Angel for the tips) And they asked me a stream of questions.
I was there for about an hour. The PO looked like he was going to burst out laughing during the session. Believe me I held nothing back.
"This isn't the first time they've called the police." I told him. "CEO called the fraud squad once. Some one had a misspelling on their website."
That was a funny incident. They asked him how much money the company had lost because of it. CEO's attitude was "We didn't actually lose anything, but we could have lost money."
It's like leaving you're car door unlocked and calling the police the next day:
"Sir, you're car hasn't been stolen." "Yes, but the point is, it could have been."
How do people that stupid survive in the world? I hate the fact that they waltz through life without a fucking clue!
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
CEO's taken it too far. Time to rally the troops.
When you think all is lost, something happens and you realise that things are not so bad.
Sister and Nephew are still with us. They'll be going home soon. Nephew has school and although it's difficult for Brother-in-law and Sister, they have to bite the bullet and deal with it. They'll move back in and talk about the next steps.
Last night I got a call from CEO's new lawyer. I swore when I answered. It was a reflex action, I couldn't help it.
"Miss Secrets, I'm calling on behalf of my client, CEO."
"What the fuck do you want?"
To be fair, I did have my head down the toilet, again. The morning sickness hasn't gone anywhere. Sometimes it hits me with a vengeance.
There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. I'm guessing he didn't expect me to be so rude.
"I've emailed you some details concerning your breach of contract."
"Excuse me. What breach?"
Now, apparently CEO and New Guy have reason to believe I have breached my contract of employment and they are in the process of recovering losses.
As you can imagine, I didn't take too kindly to the allegation.
"Your client has nothing better to do with his time. Obviously he doesn't have a brain in his dense skull because in order to recover losses you need to have something called proof, and as a lawyer you should know this."
"Are you denying the allegations?"
"Are you listening to yourself? What am I supposed to have done?"
CEO has accused me of leaking trade secrets to a competitor under a false name.
There are many things wrong with this:
1. As far as I am aware, there are no trade secrets. Seriously, there are no secrets.
2. A false name? Hmm now if a false name was used, how can they be certain it was me?
3. Why would I do something so stupid?
In the end I told the lawyer to piss off and he told me that CEO has a right to apply for an injunction against me. I laughed and told him to go ahead. I'm not the one that's going to look like a total idiot.
I puked a little more after the phone call. And got a little emotional.
puke!
"Why won't they just leave me alone!"
puke!
"I haven't done-"
puke!
"What a bastard-"
puke!
"I hate-"
puke!
Solicitor knocked on the door.
"Elise? Can I come in?"
puke!
"No!"
puke!"
"Tell them to fuck-"
puke!
"Off!"
Sister knocked on the door.
"Elise, let me in! Are you okay?"
Nephew knocked.
"Aunt Elise! Are you going to die?"
I didn't answer. Instead I squeezed the largest amount of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and cleaned my teeth.
I told Solicitor about the phone call afterwards. He laughed and told me that I've got nothing to worry about. CEO's a complete idiot.
I got a phone call this morning from a police officer. He needs to follow up an attack on CEO's company security. I was pretty shocked. He told me that it's a standard follow up to any crime reported and that in his view it's pretty minor.
Yes, it is pretty minor. But to me it's pretty major. CEO called the police, after I told his lawyer to piss off, and made up an attack on his security (whatever that's supposed to mean).
CEO has taken it too far. It's time to rally the troops. First things first, I need some advice from Gay Boss.
Sister and Nephew are still with us. They'll be going home soon. Nephew has school and although it's difficult for Brother-in-law and Sister, they have to bite the bullet and deal with it. They'll move back in and talk about the next steps.
Last night I got a call from CEO's new lawyer. I swore when I answered. It was a reflex action, I couldn't help it.
"Miss Secrets, I'm calling on behalf of my client, CEO."
"What the fuck do you want?"
To be fair, I did have my head down the toilet, again. The morning sickness hasn't gone anywhere. Sometimes it hits me with a vengeance.
There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. I'm guessing he didn't expect me to be so rude.
"I've emailed you some details concerning your breach of contract."
"Excuse me. What breach?"
Now, apparently CEO and New Guy have reason to believe I have breached my contract of employment and they are in the process of recovering losses.
As you can imagine, I didn't take too kindly to the allegation.
"Your client has nothing better to do with his time. Obviously he doesn't have a brain in his dense skull because in order to recover losses you need to have something called proof, and as a lawyer you should know this."
"Are you denying the allegations?"
"Are you listening to yourself? What am I supposed to have done?"
CEO has accused me of leaking trade secrets to a competitor under a false name.
There are many things wrong with this:
1. As far as I am aware, there are no trade secrets. Seriously, there are no secrets.
2. A false name? Hmm now if a false name was used, how can they be certain it was me?
3. Why would I do something so stupid?
In the end I told the lawyer to piss off and he told me that CEO has a right to apply for an injunction against me. I laughed and told him to go ahead. I'm not the one that's going to look like a total idiot.
I puked a little more after the phone call. And got a little emotional.
puke!
"Why won't they just leave me alone!"
puke!
"I haven't done-"
puke!
"What a bastard-"
puke!
"I hate-"
puke!
Solicitor knocked on the door.
"Elise? Can I come in?"
puke!
"No!"
puke!"
"Tell them to fuck-"
puke!
"Off!"
Sister knocked on the door.
"Elise, let me in! Are you okay?"
Nephew knocked.
"Aunt Elise! Are you going to die?"
I didn't answer. Instead I squeezed the largest amount of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and cleaned my teeth.
I told Solicitor about the phone call afterwards. He laughed and told me that I've got nothing to worry about. CEO's a complete idiot.
I got a phone call this morning from a police officer. He needs to follow up an attack on CEO's company security. I was pretty shocked. He told me that it's a standard follow up to any crime reported and that in his view it's pretty minor.
Yes, it is pretty minor. But to me it's pretty major. CEO called the police, after I told his lawyer to piss off, and made up an attack on his security (whatever that's supposed to mean).
CEO has taken it too far. It's time to rally the troops. First things first, I need some advice from Gay Boss.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)