Christmas Time. Already. Whuh?

I'm odd.

I'm not overly fond of Christmas yet class myself as Christian.

The reasoning is a dislike of enforced jollity, the fact it commercially starts in September, and it brings home the fact my home life is very different to that of a "typical" family.

Wunderkind goes off to his dads house every Christmas - usually for a week - and I sit on my todd waiting for folk to take pity on me and invite me round. I allow WK to go to his dads because they have a massive family and have a proper traditional Christmas and I don't think it's fair to deprive him of that experience.

Our Christmas is usually 2 days before he goes away, consists of the usual present opening but our dinner is picked by WK.

This means we've had Indian, pizza, buffet, egg and chips, buffet, Indian, buffet (there's generally a running theme. I mean, who doesn't love buffet?)

However, this year, LC is round for our Christmas. So yes, we're still having Indian and buffet, but we're also following some traditions: hidden presents till "Christmas morning", playing games, being a kind of "typical" family.

I'm Turning 34

I become even more embedded in my 30s than ever before (coz that's how birthdays work, right? Always moving forwards) and I thought I'd put together a list of things I'm grateful for:

* Wunderkind. He's witty and funny and generally a decent kid. He's also forgetful and selfish and thoughtless, but he's still awesome.

* My little house. It's literally a 1.5 bed house (poor Wunderkind lives in a box room) and it only just about fits everything in, but it's MINE.

* My car. I might have it on tick, I might pay an extortionate amount for it each month, it might really piss me off having to drive as I hate doing it, but it's MY car and I'M paying for it.

* My family and friends. I am BLOODY lucky to have the people around me that I do. Each and everyone of the crazy buggers brings something lovely to my life and without them, I'd not be where I am.

* LC. He's sensible and caring, funny (but not as funny as me), respectful, thoughtful and occasionally the most annoying man on the planet. He takes care of me whilst making sure I can take care of myself. He gives the best hugs, they're like coming home and they cure most ills.

There are no presents and no cards that can take the place of what I'm blessed with. And I am blessed.

Rubber Chicken

Right. You're all going to be wondering what I mean by Rubber Chicken.

I don't mean one of those weird toys with the dodgy squeakers in that you give to a pet dog, I mean a chicken that you stretch over more than one meal. Rubber = stretchy.

I had a bad experience with a cheap chicken breast. This sounds like a real #middleclassnightmare, but I bought cheap chicken and when I was eating it, it was horrible: watery, oddly textured, tasted of nothing, and I kept gipping. Anyways, I decided that I would do an experiment with free range organic chicken, to see if it tastes better.

So I bought a £9 chook and got cooking.

So far the happy, very-well-treated,-tucked-in-bed, given-brandy-and-cigars-then-snuggled-to-death-in-its-sleep chicken (there has got to be a reason for its cost, right?) has made:

* Roast dinner for 3 (me, LC and Wunderkind)

* Chicken and roasted sweetcorn risotto for 2 (me and Wunderkind)

* Chicken pasta bake for 3 (me, Wunderkind, and The Mothership)

* 2 x chicken and salad pitta breads for me

* 1L of stock with which I'll be making soup/stew/risotto depending on my mood. Yes, risotto again. I'm gooooood at risotto.

So that's 10 meals. TEN. And can I tell the difference? YES.

It's going to sound odd when I say it tastes of chicken, because we've become so accustomed to chicken tasting of nothing so things that taste of nothing, taste of chicken BUT it tastes of Actual Chicken.

And I'm converted.

Post Holiday Blues

Well, I've just come back from a week of loveliness with LC and I want to make a list of what we've been up to:

* Seeing (and taking part in!) The Fringe in Edinburgh

* Going to St Andrews where LC went to university, having a picnic on the beach, and paddling in the North Sea

* Being rowed across Windermere in the blazing sunshine

* Spending inordinate amounts of time with LC

I miss him dreadfully now he's at home and it struck me that I adore him. Not only is he my boyfriend, he's also my best friend. I can tell him anything and he won't judge me or laugh...... too much

AND I AM SO LUCKY

Last Weekend v This Weekend

Last weekend:

* Cocktails with friends

* Driving range (I hit that ball 73 times out of 75. Not bad for a beginner)

* Thai food with chopsticks

* The Movies (The Worlds End: go see it)

* So much laughing

This weekend:

* Too much work

* No LC

* A breakout of Urticaria

* PMT

* Cleaning to do

And so life is. Ups and downs. But it's all to do with remembering that the down bit of it can be remedied. Or welcomed.

Better Mooded

Today I seemed to have turned an emotional corner.

It helped actually spending some time texting LC when I've not really had a decent conversation with him over the weekend.

It does worry me that I'm dependent on him for emotional support and frankly, I'm not sure I should be. Should anyone be dependent on someone for that? I've been dependent on folk before and it's never ended well. Whether that's just because it doesn't, or because of the people involved I'm not sure.

But the emotional corner has been turned and I'm feeling a lot more chipper. I've been all useful and organised and everything.

It's amazing how much of a slave to my emotions I actually am.

Are you?

Never Fish For Compliments

I should know this by now: LC doesn't catch on quick, nor does he compliment.

So when I asked him by text to say something nice as I'd had a crap day, he replied:

"Can't wait for a lovely Friday night"

Um.

We're out with another couple that night (is my company THAT amazing?!)

Let's try again: "Say something nice about ME"

"You should do the skeleton dance! Wiggle wiggle"

What the...............? (Drugs? Does he do drugs in my absence? Why am I not included in this drug taking??)

I stopped and Googled the skeleton dance. I'm not doing that.

I give up. I should have learned never to interrupt him babysitting his nephews and never to assume he'd learn how to compliment me.

I'll do it instead: I'm fit.