Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The things that people say...
I am a great talker. (Please feign surprise if you can....) That said, I never feel the need for making idle conversation just for the sake of it. This has been the reason in the past that I have had difficulty in finding a new hairdresser when required. Similarly, finding someone to attend to my pubic topiary needs. I don't want to discuss the most inane things - frankly I would rather I could read a book and let them get on with it.
The same goes for idle chit-chat at parties and so forth. I detest the superficiality of many conversations, when it seems its only purpose is to fill the air with sound.
But my most LOATHED form of idle chat is the one I seem to be getting a lot of late. (In fact, both Mr Subtle and I.) It seems that since our nuptials, over three months ago, whenever we see someone that we may have not seen since then, or before, their only form of conversation is the question, "So how is married life?".
I can't tell you how frustrating and ridiculous I find this statement. I had taken to replying, with some element of glibness, "Oh just the same, except now I get to complain about my husband, rather than my boyfriend." I thought, perhaps, that this reaction was limited to myself, especially since I can be a trifle grumpy with people I perceive as stupid. But, thankfully, my darling Mr Subtle said that he has been getting inundated with the same question, and he too has come up with his standard answer. For him, he replies, "About the same, except now I get to wear this pretty ring!".
Bless him!
I am a great talker. (Please feign surprise if you can....) That said, I never feel the need for making idle conversation just for the sake of it. This has been the reason in the past that I have had difficulty in finding a new hairdresser when required. Similarly, finding someone to attend to my pubic topiary needs. I don't want to discuss the most inane things - frankly I would rather I could read a book and let them get on with it.
The same goes for idle chit-chat at parties and so forth. I detest the superficiality of many conversations, when it seems its only purpose is to fill the air with sound.
But my most LOATHED form of idle chat is the one I seem to be getting a lot of late. (In fact, both Mr Subtle and I.) It seems that since our nuptials, over three months ago, whenever we see someone that we may have not seen since then, or before, their only form of conversation is the question, "So how is married life?".
I can't tell you how frustrating and ridiculous I find this statement. I had taken to replying, with some element of glibness, "Oh just the same, except now I get to complain about my husband, rather than my boyfriend." I thought, perhaps, that this reaction was limited to myself, especially since I can be a trifle grumpy with people I perceive as stupid. But, thankfully, my darling Mr Subtle said that he has been getting inundated with the same question, and he too has come up with his standard answer. For him, he replies, "About the same, except now I get to wear this pretty ring!".
Bless him!
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Maturity
Today marks Subtle's 30th birthday* and his progression to a new phase of adulthood - or at least another version of it. As becomes more obvious as I get older, men don't really progress much past about 14 years of age. Bum and Fart jokes still make them giggle, and computer games and comics are common fodder for a growing contingent of the male population. When he gets together with his friends, as will occur this weekend, I feel like a mother shaking her head at the inane comments that abound and wonder for the fate of the world.
Of course, given the above commentary, one would assume that I must therefore assume some sort of superior role. And often, I think I do. Fart jokes don't make me laugh, and slap-stick humour, that which often proves hilarious to our youth, makes me cringe. But I have to admit to a few "word issues" that I do have. I work in the medical field and strangely, the words that I find difficult to say without giggling are related to work.
Firstly, I can't say "verge". A part of the anatomy that we often treat is the "anal verge"... so I hear verge, and then my head hears anal - and well, it is all downhill from there. Secondly, I can't say "vault" . Another area we treat is the "vaginal vault"... so I hear vault, and go to vagina, and the giggling starts all over again.**
So I really have to relinquish my high horse, because it seems that while my infantile husband might like fart and bum jokes, it appears that I am only one step removed from liking them myself.
* Happy Birthday my darling man!
**The other words I have trouble with are not related to work. But I think it doesn't take much to work out why I have difficulty with "snatch" and "fingering".
Today marks Subtle's 30th birthday* and his progression to a new phase of adulthood - or at least another version of it. As becomes more obvious as I get older, men don't really progress much past about 14 years of age. Bum and Fart jokes still make them giggle, and computer games and comics are common fodder for a growing contingent of the male population. When he gets together with his friends, as will occur this weekend, I feel like a mother shaking her head at the inane comments that abound and wonder for the fate of the world.
Of course, given the above commentary, one would assume that I must therefore assume some sort of superior role. And often, I think I do. Fart jokes don't make me laugh, and slap-stick humour, that which often proves hilarious to our youth, makes me cringe. But I have to admit to a few "word issues" that I do have. I work in the medical field and strangely, the words that I find difficult to say without giggling are related to work.
Firstly, I can't say "verge"
So I really have to relinquish my high horse, because it seems that while my infantile husband might like fart and bum jokes, it appears that I am only one step removed from liking them myself.
* Happy Birthday my darling man!
**The other words I have trouble with are not related to work. But I think it doesn't take much to work out why I have difficulty with "snatch" and "fingering".
Labels: Ageing, Birthdays, My Brain, Quirkiness
Thursday, October 15, 2009
After having an extended break from blogging, one would expect that I might have lots to write about. Sadly, I don't. In fact, I really have had one thing on my mind of late. And that is a word. And the word is "miscarriage".
This word has been quite meaningful for Subtle and I lately. It is a funny thing when someone says "You lost the baby". How can I lose it? It was in the same place that we put it the last time I looked! But, apparently, lose we did.
Grief is a funny thing. People cope differently with it, and grief about something that was little more than an "idea" or a plan is hard to fathom and articulate. To all around you, you have lost nothing. But to you, you have lost the plans and future you had made. Subtle is stoic and wonderfully supportive, both in being there physically when I needed him, and emotionally when all I could do was cry. Yet again, I realise how lucky I am to have this wonderful man with me in my life.
The loss was sudden and physically painful. The sadness was profound, heart-wrenching, but surprisingly short-lived. Perhaps the reinstatement of my anti-depressants helped with that, as well as some good therapy sessions and time with Subtle for us to discuss and ponder it all. People around us have been caring and thoughtful. Well except for the pointed questions of "So, do they know what went wrong?". I can tell you that having that question posed only 12 hours after the "procedure", was not well received.
Philosophical ponderings of "well, it just wasn't meant to be this time", are not quite the point of recovery that I am at yet either. One day perhaps, but not today. Possibly not even tomorrow.
I know the future is still uncertain, but with Subtle by my side, I am assured that we will be okay. I am also conscious of worries about "next time", but I keep telling myself, that we will face those worries together when the time comes.
Labels: Depression, Future Planning, Subtle
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Questions of Etiquette
I have a regular pubic groomer. Getting someone who is not too chatty and not too half-witted to talk to whilst tending to my nether regions is something that has been an issue for me. Similar to the issue of getting a hairdresser one is comfortable with, the pubic hairdresser has a generally unpleasant task and is someone that you want to trust. Not being same sex inclined, it is also a matter of some delicacy in having some female looking intently, in bright lights, at my mons pubis.
But thankfully, my groomer is lovely. Appropriately chatty, not too young to make me feel old, not too thin or beautiful to make me feel inadequate, and certainly brisk and efficient at her job making the whole process pass by as painlessly as possible.
But I have one issue. Only one single, little tiny issue. I have no idea of her name. She doesn't wear a name badge. The salon is small, and generally she is the only one working during the week when I attend. So I can't turn up and have someone say, "Hello, will be with you in a moment!". After seeing her now for many months, how does one just say, "By the way, I know you are intimate with my Labia, but what is your name?". I just can't do it. So I think, in my head, I will just have to call her Mulva. Or Dolores.
I have a regular pubic groomer. Getting someone who is not too chatty and not too half-witted to talk to whilst tending to my nether regions is something that has been an issue for me. Similar to the issue of getting a hairdresser one is comfortable with, the pubic hairdresser has a generally unpleasant task and is someone that you want to trust. Not being same sex inclined, it is also a matter of some delicacy in having some female looking intently, in bright lights, at my mons pubis.
But thankfully, my groomer is lovely. Appropriately chatty, not too young to make me feel old, not too thin or beautiful to make me feel inadequate, and certainly brisk and efficient at her job making the whole process pass by as painlessly as possible.
But I have one issue. Only one single, little tiny issue. I have no idea of her name. She doesn't wear a name badge. The salon is small, and generally she is the only one working during the week when I attend. So I can't turn up and have someone say, "Hello,
Labels: Happy Times, Quirkiness
Sunday, August 23, 2009
A few wedding happy snaps...
Those of you who have read Subtle's, you will be already appraised of the wedding day. Everything went wonderfully. Better than wonderful. Foolproof. Perfect. Divine.
I began my morning with Brunch with Katja and Co, and then went onto pack up all my things and pick up my quasi-bridesmaids. The most surprising part of the day was the upgrade we were treated to on arrival at the hotel. I was told that there would be an upgrade. But nothing, NOTHING, compares to being upgraded to the Presidential Suite (worth allegedly $6500/night). A grand piano, 8 person dining room, double King Beds and a bathroom bigger than some homes was a startling surprise. Of course, we took it all in our stride, and the bridesmaids and I did *not* run around giggling. Much.
The spa was trialled, as was the TV above it. We are nothing but grace and decorum.
After the hair and makeup was done, and before the dress was donned, we had little to do amuse ourselves with except composing arty shots. Apparently my garter (courtesy of my wonderful Tap Class) became a feature of some note. Along with my perfume. Arty-shots.. who understands them?
I had no desire for a veil, but had to produce some sort of hair garnish to feel suitably bridal. This was what I opted for - a silver/crystal/beaded headpiece and feather.
Sentimental words, and some legalities, and here we are with an official marriage certificate!
Somehow the ring doesn't photograph as well as it looks in person. But trust me, it blings!
Here I am.... oh, that's right, I am obscured by a group of people and this *is* meant to be an anonymous blog. But the train of my dress is quite pretty don't you think?
Here is Subtle, or at least, part of him. He didn't want to wear any sort of buttonhole flower, but some rose petals were thrown after the ceremony and apparently someone felt the need to stuff them in his jacket. We are nothing but class.
The cake required many taste tests to come up with something that made the groom happy, and not panic the bride. I probably won't feel like Chocolate Port Cake for a little while longer, but regardless, it looked fantastic and tasted wonderful. Thanks to Miss Stems for her artful arrangement of flowers and to Miss Tracey for her recipe!
I hadn't planned on many speeches being given, but quite a few were - mostly impromptu. As a result, I apologise to the guests for boring them.
Inevitably, with too many drinks consumed during the reception, confusion abounded as to whose drink was whose. Sadly I think all these drinks are actually water.
By the end of the night, we were all quite a lot worse for wear. So much so that my bridesmaids could no longer determine push from pull at doors. Lucky they looked pretty.
I hope this satisfies some people's need for photos.... back to our regular programming in the near future!
Those of you who have read Subtle's, you will be already appraised of the wedding day. Everything went wonderfully. Better than wonderful. Foolproof. Perfect. Divine.
I began my morning with Brunch with Katja and Co, and then went onto pack up all my things and pick up my quasi-bridesmaids. The most surprising part of the day was the upgrade we were treated to on arrival at the hotel. I was told that there would be an upgrade. But nothing, NOTHING, compares to being upgraded to the Presidential Suite (worth allegedly $6500/night). A grand piano, 8 person dining room, double King Beds and a bathroom bigger than some homes was a startling surprise. Of course, we took it all in our stride, and the bridesmaids and I did *not* run around giggling. Much.
The spa was trialled, as was the TV above it. We are nothing but grace and decorum.
After the hair and makeup was done, and before the dress was donned, we had little to do amuse ourselves with except composing arty shots. Apparently my garter (courtesy of my wonderful Tap Class) became a feature of some note. Along with my perfume. Arty-shots.. who understands them?
I had no desire for a veil, but had to produce some sort of hair garnish to feel suitably bridal. This was what I opted for - a silver/crystal/beaded headpiece and feather.
Sentimental words, and some legalities, and here we are with an official marriage certificate!
Somehow the ring doesn't photograph as well as it looks in person. But trust me, it blings!
Here I am.... oh, that's right, I am obscured by a group of people and this *is* meant to be an anonymous blog. But the train of my dress is quite pretty don't you think?
Here is Subtle, or at least, part of him. He didn't want to wear any sort of buttonhole flower, but some rose petals were thrown after the ceremony and apparently someone felt the need to stuff them in his jacket. We are nothing but class.
The cake required many taste tests to come up with something that made the groom happy, and not panic the bride. I probably won't feel like Chocolate Port Cake for a little while longer, but regardless, it looked fantastic and tasted wonderful. Thanks to Miss Stems for her artful arrangement of flowers and to Miss Tracey for her recipe!
I hadn't planned on many speeches being given, but quite a few were - mostly impromptu. As a result, I apologise to the guests for boring them.
Inevitably, with too many drinks consumed during the reception, confusion abounded as to whose drink was whose. Sadly I think all these drinks are actually water.
By the end of the night, we were all quite a lot worse for wear. So much so that my bridesmaids could no longer determine push from pull at doors. Lucky they looked pretty.
I hope this satisfies some people's need for photos.... back to our regular programming in the near future!
Labels: Quirkiness, Subtle, Weddings
