Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Week Fourteen

I know, I know, I'm the boldest girl in Ireland. Sorry about the tardiness lads but I only got back to Pavia on Friday and sure, well, ye know yourselves like.

Monday 4th Jan

"You are my star that illuminates and guides me. You are my life."

Now if some Irish fella said that to me I would either a) laugh in his gay face or b) kick him in the gooch and run off screaming in the opposite direction, but because it is being said in Italian, and specifically by BBB, I full-on swoon. Only four more days until I get home to our broken-ovened lovehovel. Be still my quivering loins!

But things are going to be different this time. No longer will he be able to pass comment on my creamy whitedness. Oh no. I'm going to black it up a notch. Armed with my L'Oreal self tan body lotion, no one can ever call me too white again!

I put on a generous slather before I went to bed. We'll see how this pans out in the morning.

Tuesday 5th Jan

Success! Every inch of my once-creamy skin is now a lovely golden colour. Excellent, excellent. Now to the hairdressers to white my hair up a notch. It's all about balance, people.

Cut to 2 hours later...

Emerge from the hairdressers an icy-haired goddess. Absolutely worth two weeks of starvation when I return to Pavia.

Walk home down Hennessy's Road in a state of cautious optimism that I'm in a such a good mood that noone would dare to throw a Country Style White Pudding at me.

Made it home alive and unbludgeoned by pork products. I thought to myself "I'll have a lovely bubble bath now". While the bath was running, Mammy passed up the hall.

"Are you washing yourself again?" she goes.
"I'm just having a bubble bath" I said.

She stood at the door and cocked her head to one side, her eyes alive with suspicion:
"Could you tell me Jennie, exactly why is it that you are always washing yourself?"

"Because I like to be clean?"

"You won't have a skin cell left on your body"

"Ok. Eh..bye."

Had a lovely bubble bath and slathered another layer of L'Oreal body lotion onto my remaining three skin cells before bed.

Wednesday 6th Jan

Behold! I woke up a glorious shade of mixed race after I put on the L'Oreal last night! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Have to finish packing today because I am leaving early in the morning. Now I just don't be able for the travelling. I get so up in a heap for a week before and a week afterwards. I always leave my packing to the last minute as well. And every time I do it I get all stressed and say "I'm never going to leave it to the last minute AGAIN!". Until the next time like. Right. So packing done and another layer of L'Oreal body lotion and its time for bed.

Thursday 7th Jan

Wake up early, a proud Nubian empress. I have reached epic levels of blackness.

Head off on the train to Dublin, which was delayed by 40 mins by the snow between Waterford and Kilkenny. All the way up to Dublin the country was absolutely beautiful, peacefully nestled under a blanket of snow. It was so calming and inspiring. Until the inevitable asshole opened up a bag of Tayto Cheese and Onion and ruined the rest of the journey for everyone within a three carriage radius. Bastard.

Friday 8th Jan

Woke up at 3am to get out to the airport. Had to have Stewy with me holding my hand and practicing yoga breaths with me in case the flight was cancelled because of the weather.Thank god it wasn't though, it was just delayed ten minutes cos some other retard (read: Ryanair) plane was stuck on the runway. AND I had the whole three seats to myself so I lay across them and went a haboo for the whole flight. Bliss!

I also tackled one of my lifetime fears - I went for a tinkle in the plane toilet. Now usually I would hold on to the last, but I REALLY had to pee and there was noone on the plane so I said I'd risk it for a biscuit. Off I went down the aisle, heart POUNDING. I went in there and I did the deed. Washed up, ready to go and....couldn't get the door open. And for a split second my world crumbled. I actually felt weak. But then I copped on that I hadn't unlocked the feckin thing first. Me nerves! I walked back to my seat, triumphant. Not only did I no longer have to pee, but I survived the ordeal without even gettin my innards sucked out by the space time continuum that is the aeroplane flusher.

Got to Milan, but the bags were so slow coming out that I missed my bus by 6 minutes! I was devastated. Had to wait another 2 hours for the next one. Usually I would have just gotten the train instead but I had already bought a return ticket on my way home before Christmas. Thank God I had the new Marian Keyes is all I'll say.

Got home around 3 anyway, completely worn out, but in a state of panic cos I still had to have a shower/shave my legs/dry hair to perfection/apply so much make up that it looked like I was wearing none/lie seductively on the bed by the time BBB got home at 4. My phone beeped "Well love, won't be home til 6"

YESSSSSSSSSSS!

Operation beautification begins. Hopped into the shower, exfoliated until my internal organs were showing, did a full body depilation and moisturized and blow dried and made myself up to the max. Then I lie down on the bed and say to myself I'll have a read of Marian while I'm waiting for him to come home, and when I hear him coming in the door I can drape myself across the covers like a common whore. I settle down anyway. This bed is soooo comfy , om nom nom. I might just rest my eyes sure, he won't be home for another 40 minutes. I'll just close them for a minute....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Next thing the light snaps on and I'm like WTF....? and I half cover my eyes with one hand while squinting up, half asleep with a Vicky Pollard expression to see what the hell was going on. Oh no. It's him. It's after 6 And I am sprawled across the bed with one leg in and one leg "trun" over the duvet. This is disastrous. Not as sexy as one might have wanted. He is just standing there for a minute having a look. Oh no. His expression is unreadable. But as quick as I thought "I'm doomed, he couldn't fancy me after this" his top is off and he is under the covers holding me in to his lovely Big Brown chest. And all is right with the world.

Saturday 9th Jan

Woke up at 8 because he had to study and had a shower and got ready and started editing my own work with him lying across my feet, doing his genius maths. Ah look at his Big Brown face concentrating hard on his impossible sums and theorems. My heart was melting at every stroke of his pencil.

"Do you want to go to Dublin for Easter?" I said.

He looked up.

"I'll think about it".

Oh no. Dear God no. The Brush Off.

I sat and stared unseeingly at my computer screen, pretending to be nonchalant but really I was dying inside. 30 seconds later:

"Yeah actually I'll definitely be able to go. Deadly! Can't wait now! And can we go to Waterford as well? Can we? I want to see your house."

Thank God. Thank GOD. It was touch and go there for a minute.

Sunday 10th Jan

Ok this is it. I am taking the next step in this relationship. I am going to use his bathroom to tinkle instead of going to mine next door. This is healthy. This is trust. So I nonchalantly put down the laptop and saunter toward the en suite door. He is deep in study and doesn't even look up. Good. I use the Fireman's Blanket method so he won't hear me pee and then I flush the toilet triumphantly. Victory! Then I am standing at the sink pumping liquid soap into my hand when the bathroom door bursts open and he strides in and gives me a slap on the arse "I love you, girl". I am frozen in horror. He didn't even knock. What if I was still peeing? Or worse - wiping. Shudder, I hate that word. I hate it so much I had to whisper it, sorry. It's almost as bad as discharge.

Lads I dunno. I mean I haven't even farted in front of him yet. I haven't even needed to. I think my body has stopped making farts because my mind is clearly not psychologically ready for my body to release them in his vicinity.

I think I'll leave him break the ice on that one.

Unless I accidentally unleash a face melter first, like.

And so as another week ended it was time for bed. We put on our jimmy jams and he lovingly watched me put on my vest while sitting on the side of the bed. I was smug out thinking to myself "he is so admiring my blackness." And how could he not be? Clearly I have roots of Ashanti. He pulled me onto his lap and ran his finger up my (nut brown) arm.

"My love" he said.

"Yes BBB?" I said, waiting for the skin tone related compliment.

He cast a longing look over my golden limbs and then looked deep into my eyes and said:

"You are so, so white".

Bastard.



7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I had to laugh at the farting part.....and Mike used to call you Farting lard Arse!

Siobhan said...

You've changed Jacques.

First you use a strange bathroom.
Then you keep in your farts.

Whats next? Giving up bubble baths for Lent?!

Ailbhe said...

What's this? Liquid soap?!!

Annie said...

hilarious

Jennikybooky said...

Laura, he also called me Walrus Teeth, but that is neither here nor there.

Siobhan we both know that would never happen.

Don't worry Ailbhe, in MY bathroom I have environmentally friendly Honey I Washed the Kids by the sink.

Yay! Thanks Annie! Now if you don't mind, I'm off for a lurk around your page!

Kitty Cat said...

Haha! Christ, a face melter sounds traumatising! Great post.

Jennikybooky said...

Thanks Kitty Cat! Face melters are bad alright. Not as bad as seepers though,those hot oes that permeate the duvet. Ay chihuahua!