Valentine's song (with help from Katy Perry

The ultimate valentines gift, a song for one's beloved, music by Katy Perry, lyric by Julz and Katy

Here's how it works, open this link in a new window and listen along to the original version while reading this, the new, improved and age appropriate version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98WtmW-lfeE

You think I'm pretty


Without any dentures on


You think I'm funny


When I get the kid’s names wrong


I know you get me


So I'll let my boobs hang down, down



Before you met me
I wore a v neck


And things were really steady


You bought me a life

Now every February


You'll be my valentine, now get my wine



We’ll go half the way tonight


No hot sex, or love


We can dance until it’s 9


You and I


We'll grow old together

You make me


Feel like
I'm living an Old age Dream


The way you turn me on
I’m a-sleep


Let's rock away


But don't ever wear slacks

I’ll never wear slacks

My heart stops


I can barely see

Just one touch


My baby’s hair recedes

This is real


So take a chance


And don't ever wear slacks

I’ll never wear slacks

We go Raumati

And drunk tea on the beach


Got a motel and


I almost wet the sheets


I finally see you

In purple polar fleece

Rub my feet



We’ll go half the way tonight


No hot sex, or love


We can dance until it’s 9


You and I


We'll grow old together

You make me


Feel like
I'm living an Old age Dream


The way you turn me on
I’m a-sleep


Let's rock away


But don't ever wear slacks

I’ll never wear slacks

the wellington lesbian artistic appreciation society- first outing

It could be the end of a beautiful relationship.

Sure, we’ve been together over a year and have even joint purchased a bath mat but with all the bliss of new love and clutter I have let it get to this point without the answer to a very simple, yet possibly relationship breaking situation.

Not kids, not religion, not core values or anything as shallow as that. No I’m talking about the big one- art appreciation.

I did it to myself. Saw the tickets to the great masters at Te Papa, “hey I wanna see that, wanna come baby?” And with those careless words slipped out of my mouth it was all on. In hindsight I should have purchased the tickets and then decided whether to take her later. But no I didn’t and she said yes.

Now I am faced with a couple of very real possibilities…

1)   She’s through the whole thing, from Monet to Manet in 10 minutes flat and asking when we can go to on the high ride leaving me standing there quietly mumbling uncharitable comments under my breath as she makes a hasty exit.

2)   I’m through in slightly more than ten minutes, having checked out the chicks in ballet gear and some blurry flowers flying out the door quicker than you can say ‘free macdonalds wifi ‘ figuring I can check out the rest of the pics on the internet later.

3)   Each of us competing to be keener than the other in showing our superior talent for art adoration and thus not emerging from Te Papa til mid August when someone finally tells us that the fire extinguisher is not a Picasso.

Actually, I’m not sure why I’m worried. It’ll be Easter before I remember where I put the frackin’ tickets ………

home alone #12867

Sweet P’s out for the evening, which means the house is all mine. The power has gone completely to my head.

Cos with P out guess who's in charge?

No not the kids

Guess Again?

No, not the cats

One more time........?

Me!! 

That's right. I am head lesbian in this house for an entire evening, and have everything under control. 

I tell you what, the power would have gone to my head, except I forgot to pay the bloody bill. 

The kids aren't convinced, Jack (aged 12) asked what we were going to eat for dinner.

Well, I set him straight! I told him I was a strong independent woman who can feed her family, besides, Paula left her eftpos card so the fish and chips were on me!! (would have been McDonalds but, well……..that’s another story)

Now, if I could just work out how to use the remote control……

New Year's resolutions

It’s that time of year again, so here’s a few tips to make your new year’s resolutions successful. Group hug!

1)   1)Don’t make them on the first of January. You have the mother of all hangovers, the bank is shut, and all the stocks of romanian orphans have been sold in the boxing day sales. The smart thing would be to wait til February, that way the holidays are over and you have only 11 months til you can start again.

2)  2) Join a facebook group. It’s just like doing the real thing but without the effort. Truly.

3)  3) Recycling is uber cool, why not re do last year’s resolutions. A word of warning her though, only repeat the fun ones or you’ll be stuck with another year of making the world a better place.

4)  4) Split your new year’s resolution with a friend. Sharing is fun. Take the usual new years resolution of eating more healthy food. Split it into 2 manageable portions, my half is to eat more food and leaving the healthy bit to my bestie.

Group hug.

I’m exhausted and it’s not even Christmas day yet!

It sounded like such a good idea in theory; staying on good terms with the ex’s; welcoming new partners, offspring and relatives into the mix; a bit like the Brady bunch or a Christmas cake.

To put it bluntly- the only thing nuclear in this family is Gran’s alcohol laced trifle (that’s my ex partner’s grandmother, as opposed to my grandmother or my ex husband’s grandmother or his new partner’s grandmother or my new partner’s grandmother).

The kids think it’s great (that’s my biological children, my ex husband’s biological children, my ex husband’s partner’s step children, my ex partner’s ex children, my current partner’s.., oh fuck… you know what I mean!), if I’m not up to standard in my motherly duties then there’s always a couple of spares to make up for my inadequacies.

The trouble comes, of course, in the holiday season.

A traditional separated family would have it all sorted out, one half of the day with Mum and one half with Dad, as set out in the custody agreement and set in stone or Nana’s scones, which are of a firmer texture (that’s my Nana by the way, on my mother’s side- I just have the one mum).

The obvious solution seemed to be a get together involving everyone, but the stadium has been booked already and air new Zealand didn’t have a spare plane.

So it’s back to the drawing board for me, while members of more traditional families wait for Christmas day for the family war I’m starting early.

If I play my cards right I’ll be relative free and be sleeping in on the 25^th.

word police

For Feck’s sake fitness industry people, use spell and grammar check!! And a good proofreader!

There’s probably a good reason that we aren’t looked upon as being that smart…

From healthy food guide November issue; teaching us if we don’t sit down too much we can live forever:

“The women who sat for more than 6 hours each day were more likely to die than women who sat for less than 3 hours each day”

And a gym testimonial from a member who was obviously bored shitless with her membership until she got a PT….

(Don’t even get me started on their spell checking abilities.)

“I joined XYZ Fitness and needed more excitement working out to keep me going.”

Gym websites are the best; this one offers a solution to a unique problem -do their new bodies come premade or kitset?

“If you're searching for a new body - or just a balanced life - we can get you there.”

Okay so now I’m on a roll. Check out this gym’s customer service statement, I want to know how they treat everyone else!

“As a first time member you will be treated with respect and empathy….”

Bad Mamma's Club

Just seen a lovely update on facebook, for mums to write on their status, as an indication of their love for their babies.

Now, I love my babies (now 10 and 12) more than anything. I also know the women who paste these updates are expressing something very cool and that should be celebrated.

BUT…….

Love comes in many ways and sometimes we need to celebrate and respect that not all mums have the same overwhelming joy at every moment, it doesn’t change the love they feel, it just makes it different.

Some Mums thought it was the worst thing that could have happened to be pregnant.

Some Mums take a look at their new born and go ‘oh shit!!!’.

Some Mums are unconscious when their kid is born, or have their baby whisked away before they get to meet them.

Some Mums get post natal depression and are so sad they can’t ‘love’ in the way other Mums do.

Some Mums don’t get to be with their kids 7 days a week through work and separate households or adoption and cannot spare the luxury of stressing each time their baby is away from them.

Some Mums watched their own Mums try to live up to the expectation of others and work hard every day to not fall into that trap.

Some Mums believe that to love yourself is the best way to show your kids the real meaning of love.

Some mums don’t love their kids more than life, cos without taking care of life there isn’t anytime to love your kids.