Eat it while you can
Pregnancy means it is open season on the wallet. And the first (of many) gasket to blow is the weekly food budget. ‘Organic, free-range’ are no no longer just words used by chardonnay hippies-to describe their personal hygiene. ’Use By Dates‘, no longer just recommendations, become stressful deadlines.
"Cough, cough, tossers, cough"
Make no mistake about it. Simple Minds was never more than a poor man’s U2. An 80′s footnote, saved from complete historical obscurity only by continued, nostalgic television repeats of the movie ‘The Breakfast Club’.
The lead singer, Jim Kerr, is now a portly Glaswegian ex-sushi restaurateur. Says it all, really.
Having clearly stated my position, I should point out that the title of this article is a direct reference the second (and thankfully final) blip on their otherwise flat-lining career. Because my unborn child is – in the Sashimi-stuffed-face words of Mr Kerr himself - “Oooh oh oh, alive and kicking.. ooh woh-oh-woh-oh-woh yeah.” (etc, etc, ad very, very nauseum)
That is, indeed, a frosty question.
I have been on, what can only be described as, a rather lame quest this last month. Trying to find the most non-alcoholic, alcoholic-looking drink. And it’s highlighting how goddamn hard it is to order a drink, anywhere, without alcohol in it, if you’re not willing to simply settle with ‘ordering off the kids menu‘.
A Lucky Strike?
In the days and weeks leading up to my wedding, it has been by far the most asked question. Which has left me a little curious as to most people’s motivation for getting married. Why should I be nervous? It’s a party, after all, not an execution. Isn’t it..?
Not quite, but almost.
It is Monday, and I am at work with an unfamiliar feeling – the two day hangover. Saturday was my Stag party. I know it finished around dawn. I’m just can’t seem to remember how. Or why.
Emma being occupied all Sunday with ladies wedding related activities, I took the opportunity to go for a drink with the husband of one of her bridesmaids (married, and near-married, men make the most of moments when their wives get together. Sanctioned fun, that doesn’t require the usual bargaining of ‘time out with the lads’ in exchange for favours, cooked meals or vacuuming).
Appetite returning. Taste in music not.
Meatloaf sang it, and he should know. He’s practically pregnant, the fat bastard.
14 weeks and Emma is officially out of the first Trimester, out of the closet (not that closet) and out of the nausea woods.
Well, almost.
Cougars beware.
Private hospitals have a reassuringly sterile, if not exactly posh, decor. Carpets of a muted hue, Formica & wooden work surfaces, and any odour of diseases quietly extracted and replaced with the vodka notes of hand disinfectant pumps.
It says ‘we’re presentable, but we’ve spent our money on nurses and fancy machines, not marble desks and a Ralph Hotere’.
I am a born skeptic. I won’t make my mind up on anything without a serious weight of evidence to back it up. It’s can be a pain in the ass, sometimes, struggling to make even the most basic decisions. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Or maybe I would?
However, when Emma P (the wife of my oldest friend, Sam) emailed to confirm details for their impending arrival from London for our wedding, and mentioned, in passing, that she had a dream recently where she was at our wedding, and the bride (my Emma) was 2 months pregnant, even I got goosebumps.
Honestly… what a girl’s blouse.
Have tissues ready. And a bucket.
This is not a film review. But if it was, it would be 2 stars. And by 2, I mean zero.
My mother suggested I watch a movie called Marley & Me (Owen Wilson, Jennifer Anniston and their pet dog, Marley). She said it resonated with her experiences of starting a family. Particularly, I think, raising two uncontollable boys.
To me the movie was about a couple who’d taken home the retard dog of a litter by accident and – in spite of years of it eating the sofa, smashing windows, pissing off the neighbours, pissing in the house and nearly mauling their new born children – lacked the balls to do anything about it.
