Reverting back in time now, I'm going to tell you all about my fantastic time in Israel (It was hell). My parents split up when I was 7 and I was abducted by my Mother when I was 8 and she took me to Israel. Now I was no stranger to Israel but my Hebrew vocabulary stretched as far as mum, dad, toilet, water and, of course the most important word, jellyfish.
My first day at school was awful. To be frank I don't remember much of it so my assumption is I was too psychologically damaged to deal with the horror I have shoved it to the back of my memory. (Okay, slight dramatisation, it was just a long time ago...) But I do remember how I asked to go to the toilet and my teacher, who is the spitting image of Ursula from the little mermaid, said I need to learn the whole sentence before I could go. So my lovely classmates taught me. Well, turns out I said "shove your fat arse down the toilet".
I slowly fitted in, learnt hebrew and actually made friends. Now looking back I would like to say to those girls - FRIENDS DONT LET FRIENDS JOIN ISRAELI SCOUTS. It was honestly hell on earth. So why I chose to then also attend the trips is bloody beyond me. I must have been extremely desperate to be accepted.
I am not well adapted to hot climates. I am pale and British. Two things particularly sensitive to the sun. But of course, Israel being Israel, it was ALWAYS boiling. So every trip we went out I would end up getting heat stroke and throwing up everywhere. Apparently when a 9 year old has heat stroke the best thing to do is leave her ALONE on a BOILING coach in the middle of no where. Honestly, its a miracle I am still here to tell you of the atrocities I suffered from these barbarians we call Scouts.
When I turned 10, all my friends joined sea scouts. I will admit this was all my wrong doing. I joined by my own will with my friends because I thought it would be fun. IT WAS ANYTHING BUT. So the first day they let us go kayaking in the marina. Now this sounds safer because there is no waves. But there are boats, a fuck load of boats. Within the first 15 minutes I had lost my oars and got stuck between two boats unable to get out and no one came to rescue me for about 25 minutes. When the lazy twits we called our instructors decided to save me I made it VERY clear that I was never going to kayak again. They didn't listen to me.
The next week we were kayaking yet again. Although this time we were leaving the marina and going into the deep deep sea. I AM 10 YEARS OLD AND I COULDN'T KAYAK IN A MARINA WHY ARE YOU TAKING ME OUT TO THE DEEP OCEAN. However, I had no choice in the matter. So we get out the marina and waves are hitting us, you can't see the sea floor and there are god forsaken fish everywhere. As we go further out I realise there is a massive flock of jellyfish surrounding my group. My fantastic instructors had forgot to mention IT WAS JELLYFISH SEASON. Before you know it they have completely surrounded the kayaks and are popping up through the holes in the kayak to come and kill me.
This was my face
You'll be glad to know I managed to leap into the instructors boat, abandoning that stupid kayak and I wasn't even stung by those malicious bastards!
I have not been kayaking in Israel since.
yalla bye xx
So, its been quite a hectic week for me. The new Waitrose store only opened on Friday so spent most of my week galavanting around where no North London girl has ventured before : Peckham. This would explain my lack of commitment to writing, I can only apologise.
Right this post is dedicated to WaitroseLAD. Prepare everyone, he features a lot in my life (unfortunately, cant shake the poor sod off). As the name dictates, I met him at work a few months ago but it was a bit of fun, nothing serious. Well this is how I see it. He, however, is basically in love with me. (I realise this makes me sound like I'm up myself but I am not exaggerating in this case, I swear). I essentially ended things a couple of months ago the way I always do, the easy way, by not replying because somehow I have magically disappeared off the face of the earth. I think it also sent me over the edge when out of no where he whispered to me "Mine, all mine" WOAH BOY LETS BACK THIS SHIT UP. - what I wanted to scream when I heard that - So that fling was short lived. In the words of Dizzee Rascal "It's not a long ting, you're the boom ting". Apparently, he doesn't get the message because he is still pining for me and buying my love with perfume. Cheeky shit, if there is something I'll give into its perfume. And not just any perfume! oh no, this is Le vie est belle. Smells gorgeous but costs quite a bit. I am extremely proud that I have not given in, this is a huge deal for me. But it must be said, I've kissed much worse and gained a lot less so I am still contemplating. (Dont act like you wouldn't do the same!)
So, last week, in one of the one million texts I receive each day from him he told me that these 2 girls from checkouts (I dont even know any girls from checkouts) apparently think I am gay. Now, there is nothing wrong with being gay but I am not gay. However to discover I give off a gay vibe was quite shocking. I AM AS PATHETIC AND FEEBLE AS THEY COME. - sorry. I'm obviously not over it. yet. Apparently, waitroseLAD tried to defend which, yes, is sweet. How did he do it you ask? well. He simply said "nah shes not gay, she loves my dick."
WAS THAT REALLY NECESSARY. like honestly. so I went from the lesbian to a massive hoe. I would like to clarify that I am neither of those things.
Yes, when I look back he is DEFINITELY a "what on earth were you thinking" kind of fling.
This image was shown to me by one of my friends, story of my life and I feel it perfectly depicts this post.
Ciaooooo xx
A brief introduction...
Well, I must say, I did not think I would be the type of person to write a blog. Mostly because I didn't believe anyone would care enough to read it and also because I felt I had more valuable things to do with my time. By valuable I mean parading round the house in my pyjamas, eating anything and everything and watching Made in Chelsea. But after consistent pestering from those nearest and dearest, I decided it was about time I shared my stories.
There are a countless number of fictional films and books depicting young women who are convinced they are going to die alone. For instance, Bridget Jones. Now on many levels I relate to the woman and my heart goes out to her as in so many ways we are the same person. However, there is no Hugh Grant or Colin Firth pining for me nor will there ever be. Basically, this shit here is the real deal of life.
(Infact, just to enlighten you as to how much of a bellend I am, i have mispelt the URL of this blog. Fantastic. 2catsandcouting. what does that even mean.)
Ladies and Gentleman, I welcome you to the hysterical mess that is my life. The majority of the stories I'm going to tell have happened in the past 3 years or so. But it was obvious my life was never going to run normally or smoothly. For starters, before I had even graced the world, my wonderful parents (although my Father blames my Mother for this one) had decided to give me a truly 1 in a million middle name; although to be frank my whole name is bonkers yet generous. Josie Debra Chips Turgill-Clarke. Now if you name your daughter that before she has even entered the world, that must be some form of child abuse.
So theres your brief intro. I'll add a story tomorrow as its very late. ta ta xx
