Week Fifteen

Oh no. The cracks are starting to show.

Monday 11th Jan

We were just finished eating our dinner and I said "I'm still hungry" and BBB goes,

"How come you're always hungry these days? Are you stressed?"

"No not really," I says.

"Are you pregnant then haha" he says.

So I stuck out my belly and I said

"What would you do if I said yes?"

And he looked my straight in the eye and says as cool as a breeze

"I would kill myself".

Oh. Right then.

"Ah Jaysus girl I don't know - imagine! haha etc" would have been the appropriate response.

I would probably have been less hurt if he had taken off his shoe and beaten me about the face with it. I felt like he had actually reached over and slapped me in the face. The thought of having a baby fills me with dread alright but fuckin hell! There's a response!

That was a pivotal moment there when he said that. I think we can pinpoint that as the exact nanosecond that this week started spiralling downward at speed.

Tuesday 12th Jan

We said we'd go out for aperitivo tonight. That basically means you go to a bar and buy a €6 cocktail and then you can buffet for free until you have to be stretchered out the door. So I was throwing on my ensemble and he came into my room just as I was reaching for my coat. And the next thing, the next thing, he goes:

"Don't you have any other coat?"

No I didn't actually because I had to leave my other coat in Ireland cos it wouldn't fit in my suitcase but that is besides the point.

"Nah, left it at home" I said, zipping my coat up, mistaking it for a general question.

"I don't really like that coat on you" he goes.

Eh, what was that?

Seriously? I mean, really? This coming from Mr. Bomber Jacket of the Year 2010.

"I prefer form-fitting coats" he helpfully adds.

Form fitting? Form fitting? Like that black abomination you wear to college? Like that one, is it? (see Bomber Jacket of the Year comment above). Of course now that is what I was thinking but I would never say it. I think he is lovely no matter what he wears. Even that coat that makes my eyes squirt blood.

"Why did you say that?" I said. I was actually curious as to why anyone would say such a thing. After he made sure I had no other coat like.

"I was just giving you my opinion," he goes.

"Right", says I.

We were on our way into town then and there was a definite... atmosphere. I wasn't pissed off, I wouldn't say. I was definitely feeling an emotion though. I think it was part hurt feelings and part something else that I can't quite put my finger on, but whatever it was it was giving me a pain in my stomach.

"Ah now you're all pissed off", he goes.

"Not pissed off, no, but you're after hurtin my feelings now."

"Jesus you're so touchy", he said, touchily.

Well if I wasn't pissed off before I was rightly pissed off then! I should have kicked him in the face the minute he said the coat thing to me, but instead I relayed the information to the rational part of my brain for further analysis, and here he is calling me touchy.

Touchy? I'll fucking touchy him in the gonads with my fucking foot. Is that touchy enough for you?

And we were walking towards the bar then in stony silence. I was thinking "Oh shit, I've made a terrible mistake picking him," and he was (most likely) thinking "I love form fitting bomber jackets".

He gave me the sideways eye then and I said fuck it, I'll throw him a bone (cos he certainly won't be throwin me one later after that comment):

"Look everything is alright," I said, "we are only having a disagreement. So take the face off ya."

"Kiss me, woman."

And all was forgiven.

Wednesday 13th Jan

Usually I wake up 47 times during the night and I have a little perv on BBB sleeping and then I stealthily pull the pillow over another bit towards my head. But every time I woke up last night he was awake too, caressing me lovingly. Jesus how annoying. I'm trying to rob a bit of pillow here!

Anyway I fell asleep and was having a lovely dream about breaking into a cake shop and eating all the cakes and I was just stuffing my face with an apple and custard tart when the alarm went off. I woke up to find myself in a pool of my own drool. Worth it, them dreams are great. Second only to the ones in the yoghurt aisle in the supermarket. I LOVE yoghurts.

Went to turn on my computer but it wouldn't turn on. I thought maybe the charger was fucked, so BBB brought me down to the computer shop and the girl tried another charger. It didn't work. After numerous tests she gave her diagnosis:

"It's broken".

Goway, is it? Fair play to you girl, you are a fucking genius.

So now my laptop is fucked so I am without computer until I save up enough to get a new one. I had my last one for 4 years though, which is a long time to have a computer, in fairness. It served me well. I'll get one at Easter when I come home. Thank God I live with BBB and can use his computer whenever I need to, otherwise I'd be up the Swanny.

Thursday 14th Jan

I made BBB a scarf for Christmas. Now as Jeremy said the other day, you should never knit something for someone who isn't a knitter themselves. He was so right. I spent WEEKS knitting this gorgeous scarf for BBB, never mind that I went to Dublin to get the wool for it and when I gave it to him he said "I thought it would be more green". Oh. Ok then.

Then he gave it the token one wear before puttin it out to pasture on the coat hook. I am considering stealing it back. It is spectacular like! I mean I spent weeks planning it out and choosing the right wool and I was thinking of him with every stitch so basically it's all full of good vibes and loveliness as it languishes on the coat hook in his room, where it is no good to anyone! And I wouldn't mind but I have not one single thing that I knitted for myself. Everything I knit I give it as a present. And I know it is so my fault. I put myself out there just to get crushed. I mean if someone knit me something or even made me anything at all, I would be so touched like. Even if someone knitted me a leopardskin nosewarmer I would wear it until it was threadbare.

I guess I have been somewhat spoiled by Stewy's neverending admiration and gratitude for my knitting skills. I learned to knit just to make him a scarf. Which is full of mistakes and quare bits but he still wears it with pride. And his ear flap hat with ridiculously large pompom. And his multicoloured mittens. All horrifically mismatched but he wore them all with a big smug "look what my girlfriend made me" look on his face, even though he looked a bit like a "shur god love him" in them. I also miss his pride in my astounding baking and dinner skills.

Over here though I just don't know. I have been spoiled by an adoring man for too long! Without my oven and baked goods and knitting and sewing and crafts and Glen Miller and Benny Goodman I feel like I am missing a huge chunk of my identity. Who the fuck am I, like? I'll just have to flounder on. And think of a way to steal that scarf back. I want it, goddammit!

Friday 15th Jan

Went back to training tonight. I was really looking forward to the run but at the same time I knew I was going to be pathetic the first night back. WRONG. I took off running and I swear lads, I was like a fucking gazelle. So elegant. Regal, almost.I couldn't believe it! Then I realised, that in Ireland I was huffin and puffin and strugglin away on my morning runs, but that was because it was up a hill, but now that I'm on the flat again I can really see how I've improved.

Myself and BBB said we'd get a pizza when I came back from training and by the time I was finished I was starving. So I told him to run down to the pizzeria , that I was on my way home. 5 minutes later my phone beeped.

"They are closed since 10 o' clock"

Now lads, did ye ever want to kill yerself? Cos I did, a small bit.

Had pasta instead. Dramatic sigh.

Saturday 16th Jan

Saturday the internet was down all day so I just studied until it came back on and I could send the emails I was waiting to send. Then that night BBB went out, but I stayed at home cos I wanted some Jennie time (ie I wanted to slather myself in Johnson's Holiday Skin). So I had a bit of a spa night in and put at least 14 inches of Johnson's on me. I haven't used this in a while, so I forgot how rotten it smells. I was in bed reading my book and stinking to high heaven when BBB came home. He was telling me about his night etc and all I was thinking was "Don't smell it, don't smell it". The next thing he climbs into the bed next to me and was cuddling into me, still talking away and then he just stopped talking. And sniffed my shoulder.

"What the fuck is that smell?"

Oh. Shit.

"It's body lotion alright, Jesus!"

Morto.

"What kind of body lotion?"

"I'm too morto to tell you, sorry"

"Come on come on come on"

"It's to make me brown alright? Are you happy now?"

"Bwah ha ha ha ha ah love you are trying to achieve the impossible."

"Night now. Hope you choke in your sleep."

Sunday 17th Jan

While lurking around the blogosphere I came across something very interesting that bloggers are being urged to get out there.

We all know about the earthquake in Haiti. Lads, imagine. The horror. Imagine now being over there sittin at home havin a chat and the next thing you wake up next to the dead body of your Mammy or sister and you can't find anyone you know and the whole house is gone. Or worse, if you had a new baby or even a small child, shur how would you look after them? All your stuff is gone, no bottles, no cribs, no nappies, no clothes.

I just read this morning that a nurse had to perform an amputation on a small child without anaesthetic. The whole situation is turning nasty, people are looting and there is chaos all over the shop, and why wouldn't there be? It's like the end of the world over there. I don't know how you'd get over it.

Anyway the whole point is that there is a great organisation shelterbox.org that is doing great things. Have a look at the website at the very least and if you can, give a few bob. I know we are all financially fucked at the moment but imagine how fucked you'd be if you had no house and a one year old to look after. And daddies and brothers with serious injuries and husbands gone missing and bodies everywhere. It doesn't bear thinking about.

So if you can, put your hand in your pocket, and if you can't, then spread the word. Post the link on your facebook or somesuch.

And then ring your Mammy/Daddy/ brother/sister/best friend/hamster and tell 'em you love 'em.

Just in case like.

Me nerves!

Week Five

Now lads everyone calm down right – but this week I found out what it says on the sign! I know, like. I know.

Monday 2^nd Nov

I went to training tonight determined to find out who Lorenzo was. Had me eyes cocked for him all night. There weren’t many people there so I was scanning the machines for a big fella. And lo – about 6 machines down there he was – a BEAST of a man rowing away. That must be him I say to myself. He gets up and goes out to get some water and he looks at me on the way out but I looked up too late to catch his eye. Shit! Must make up for it on the way back. On his way back in then I was STARING him down like willing him to look at me, lasers shooting out of my eyeballs like. He looked at me anyway and I got that lightning bolt in my belly and I smiled and was like “well boy” And he smiled back at me like he knew me. That must be him Im thinking to myself. But how can I be sure?

I finished up on the machines and went out into the hall and the trainer was there. Come upstairs with me I said so we were going upstairs and halfway up he stopped me and said in an urgent (sexy) whisper “Quick – which one is Ella?” This is it! This is my moment! “Never mind about that, who the fuck is Lorenzo?” And then he was like “Lor..” and someone started coming down the stairs so we were like “yeah lets do some ab work yeah, yeah” ! And we continued on up the stairs. Goddammit!

Tuesday 3^rd Nov

Went down the supermarket today, and all the way down there I was psyching myself up to no end to find out what it says on the sign. I have to keep my public happy like. Lads I was hyped up to the last. SAS in full swing like. I was here like “I’m just going to say, ‘give us a look at that sign’”.

Well lads he must be reading this blog or something, because when I rounded the corner of the footbridge there he was with a NEW sign. A bigger one, written out in stenciled letters and laminated. “Jaysus”, I said to myself , “he means business.” So I went up to him, “Ciao” I says, “give us a look at that sign” (all going according to plan so far), and it says

I am looking for work.

I am a deaf mute.

I have had to leave my country.

My father is dead.

Please help me.

“Jesus Christ” I thought to myself, what a shitty hand to be dealt.

Then I was thinking to myself – deaf and dumb? I could be full sure he said well to me a few times. Funny, that. Must just be me. “Would you fancy an oul pizza boy?” I says, “Ah yeah, missus” he nods. So I did my shoppin and grabbed him pizza and a drink. On the way out anyway I handed it to him. He puts his hand on his heart. “Tell me a bit about yourself” I goes. He looked at me as if I had two tits (new readers see week two). I said “where are you from?”, cos he was a bit too mocha-choca-latta-ya-ya to be Italian like. And he is like lookin all flustered like he cant communicate with me and I say “come on like, lets at least try and talk to each other.” Ok he nods and takes out his phone. Alarm bells are going off. What is he doing with a phone? Then I think shur I am only marginally better off than him and I have one hahah! So we carry out a conversation via typin stuff into our phones. He is from Romania and his name is Valentin. So I went home anyway thinking of places I could find him a nice cushy job. The poor fella like, it’s a hard oul life.

I get home anyway and I’m chatting away to Jac. I tell her I found out what it says on the sign. “Let me guess” she says “Im a deaf mute with a son on another country. Theres a fella with that sign in Waterford.” And I actually thought for a split second- lads I ACTUALLY thought “Jesus that’s some coincidence”.

Now bear in mind I am the most gullible person on the face of the earth. Like one time at home Stewy says to me in the living room “Jen I was just reading there, did you know statistically that 6 out of 7 dwarves aren’t Happy?” And me then “Oh my God, really? That’s terrible!” And he lookin at me then as if to say “oh my god you thick bitch.” Couple that now with me big dopey soft heart and shur I’d fall for any sob story.

So anyway needless to say I am rightly pissed off that Valentin is after playin me for a fool. I mean like I couldn’t buy me cashews cos I bought him lunch instead. And I need them to keep me calories up when I’m training. Well I swear to god, he better HOPE he is actually deaf and dumb. Of course he’s not feckin looking for work. Shur how could he be and he standing there every hour of the day? He knows he will make more money standing there than he would in a proper job. The fucker. He’s prob at home now with the rest of his begging crew and his father, who is very much alive, going “yeah this thick blonde bitch bought me lunch today – boo-ya!”.

This is remindin me of some beggars in particular in Dublin. Like the fella on Westmoreland Street with the gammy leg. And he rolls up his trouser leg to his thigh and waves his leg in your face as you walk past. And the practiced pitiful look on his face like, he gets up in the morning and puts in his puppy dog eyes. “Oh poor me, look at me poor leg it’s upside down and inside out”. And a full head of gold teeth on him. He doesn’t need money like, he needs a Cash4Gold freepost envelope.

Stop lads - I shouldn’t have read the sign. I knew even as I was reading it, that it was a bad idea. Sigh.

Wednesday 4^th Nov

Didn’t go to training tonight as there was a big dinner on in our palazzo. Actually it was more of a banquet – we each dragged our tables out into the corridor so it was one huge long table. It was a good laugh. So before dinner I was chattin to some new people and the fella next door comes over and here the next thing he starts leaning on my shoulder and I was thinking to myself “If he puts his elbow on my head he definitely fancies me” Two seconds later, he put his elbow on my head. Ha! I knew it. Pity he is only 12.

But he surprised me. We were sittin down eatin dinner and he was sittin at the top of the table (of 30 people) holding court there like a fully grown man. I was impressed. And I’m ashamed to say it, but….he was makin me feel a bit giddy. Stop lads. Remember when you were a teenager and every time you saw someone you fancied you get that shock in your stomach? All I needed were the glasses and the braces and I’d be 15 again!

After dinner we all had to stand on the table and walk down it like a catwalk and stand on the end of it and talk about ourselves. Everyone was going up and then the next thing everyone started chanting “Lady Gaga! Lady Gaga!” and here I was , what the fuck are them eejits on about, and here they were on about me. Sorry. Sorry now - Lady Gaga? Since when do I look like Lady Gaga? I can’t help but feel insulted. I must have dropped a pair of balls when I wasn’t lookin like.

Anyway then the next door fella gets up. Now I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t lookin. I was just having a look like, just browsin. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a pair of boots and a skin tight polo neck. All of which were having an effect on me. Lads you could tell the time off his pecs. It was ride o clock like. Later on then we were having drinks and he went to walk past me and put his giant hands around my waist and brushed his whole body against me to walk past. And I wouldn’t mind but there were at least three metres between me and the wall. Interesting. Then at some point I felt a twinge in my back. The twinge that tells me someone is standing very close behind me. Infact, their belly is touching my whole back. He was breathing in and out against me. And the next thing he starts off talking in his ridiculous accent, and his voice is trickling down the back of my neck like HONEY. Just be cool, Jen. Act normal like. The girl I was talking to was talking away but I could literally only see her lips move. The room was spinning.

And for a split second, for a split second I actually thought “hmmm I might have a steamy fling with this fella”.

But then I considered the fact that it would entail holding in my farts in front of him, and I said fuck it, its not worth it.

After dinner then we all headed outside and then the fuckin horror began. The “initiations”. All the new residents were made to stand in the grass and sing some song. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on – was the song in some quare dialect or was I just pissed? I may as well have had a teat on the end of the bottle of prosecco I was drinkin it so fast. Me nerves were at me like. Then we had to do the chicken dance around the place. I was laughing along but inside I was like please someone drop an atomic bomb so this can end. Eventually the terror ended and myself and the lads headed to our beds.

Thursday 5^th Nov

God, what was I thinking last night? Me and another fella. As if, like. Imagine someone other than Stewy touchin me. Ewwwwwwwwwwww. I could puke. No, I’d much rather continue on my merry way without some fella draggin out of me annoying me when I’m trying to watch Dexter. Anyway he is only a child. Plus like if I was going to have a bella storia over here I’d go for something a bit more my style. Well I mean I do enjoy a larger gentleman with beauteous carrying-me-around abilities but I’ve always been really into glasses on fellas, more so recently actually.

Head out the door to go to the shopping centre at the exact moment he comes out his door. I’m turning to say well but I only got as far as “w..”.

He was standing there in a trench coat and glasses.

Ah, for fuck sake.

Friday 6^th Nov

Right – this is a serious business. Ray D’Arcy WILL read out an email about this blog thus propelling me to international superstardom. I started up a group on facebook called Ray D’Arcy – You Will Bow To My Whims! to unite my fives and tens of fans in an email onslaught in a bid to get him to read it out. It’s for the good of the nation. God, look at what I have become - a facebook whore. If I wasn’t such a laugh I might consider hating myself.

Saturday 7^th Nov & Sunday 8^th Nov

This weekend was like the number one wasted weekend in the history of the universe. I literally just facebooked all weekend – that’s right, it’s a verb now. It was all rainy and pissy outside and I was longing for home. You know when it’s a really shitty day outside but you’re all snuggly at home with the fire blazing and the cupboard stocked, you can’t bayte it boy.

I’m really looking forward to going home. Every year about this time I start getting really worked up about returning to the motherland. If there was an award for best family Christmas we would totally get it. Like it’s not a Jacques family Christmas, nay, a Jacques family gathering unless someone pisses themselves.

Take last Christmas, for example. It’s my uncle Paddy’s birthday on Christmas day so he was in our house having dinner with us. After dinner then he went in to the sitting room to sit down and we were around the corner in the dining room getting his cake ready. I had a packet of candles where each candle was a letter that spelled out “happy birthday” but in the end there weren’t enough letters so mammy had the bright idea of just putting “B” for birthday. So then my sister’s husband pipes up “What’s the B for?” and Daddy said “B for Bollix”.

B for Bollix like. My father said that. Looking back, that was the indicator of the hilarity to come – Daddy was clearly giddy like.

When we were finished laughing Mammy goes “No, it’s B for Birthday” and the brother-in-law says “Bertie? I thought his name was Paddy!” So that started us all off again.

And then someone was like “Put P for Paddy” so were like yeah that’s nice. And we had the cake all set up and we were in formation ready to march into the sitting room when Daddy pipes “P, lovely – now he’s a prick.”

Well lads.

On the ground I was. The reason why it was so funny is it didn’t have anything to do with Uncle Paddy, who is lovely, but it had everything to do with the fact that Daddy was giddy and wanted to say dirty words.

Anyway then we all got it together and got back into position and we were taking in the breath to sing Happy Birthday when all of a sudden Daddy was like “Take the cake! Take the cake! I cant hold it!" And then he started crying with the laughing and had to get down on his hands and knees, and shur jaysus then that set us all off again.

Needless to say I pissed myself. Don’t judge me now – if you were in our house when we are together you would piss as well. Literally every time, at least one of us pisses themselves. My sister Hazel uses the fact that she just had a baby as an excuse. Yeah yeah.

Anyway we were all rolling around in the dining room with the cake on the dining table with the candle burning down to nothing and here is poor Uncle Paddy sittin in the sitting room, completely oblivious. I don’t know what happens; I think we all get in a giddy mood around Christmas. So anyway then we all had to pick ourselves up and go in “Happy Birthday to you etc..” and the tears rolling down our cheeks and the soggy jeans on me. Good times!

I’d say if my sister Hazel is reading this at her desk she is probably after pissin herself. I’d say there’s not a dry seat in the house like. But it’s not her fault lads! Come on like – she just had a baby!