Thursday 30 April 2009

Last day of April showers?

Today, is the last day of April. This is good as it's pay day...


But while I was hopeful this morning as I saw glimmers of sun through the cloud from the view outside my kitchen window, it would appear that hope was to be short lived.

April is having the last laugh, and dumped quite a shower on me this morning.


Now, as a result, I have a crown of irregular curls around my face that don't really go with the rest of my hair.

Vain? Moi?

So, swine flu fever fear is gripping the world it seems. While my thoughts are with those affected, the paranoia of people who will probably never be affected never ceases to amaze me.

This morning, I sneezed. Hand up, tissue at the ready, and the person next to me got up and moved.

Now, had I been coughing, sniffing and generally looking like I might cark it, I'd have understood, but frankly this was downright insulting.

Then, the person she sat next to began to cough, and so the game of bus musical chairs began.

I swear that by her third move, it was other people that were trying to get away from her as they all clearly thought she was unhinged.

So anyway, today is Thursday, it's nearly the weekend and I'm very excited because tonight, I have a wedding bake trial with NikNak and Country Boy 1. I'm baking their wedding cake don't you know, and we need to check that asking me wasn't an act of insanity on NikNak's part.

I love baking. It's very therapeutic seeing a cake rise from a big blob of goo, then transforming it with icing, sprinkles and a whole host of other bits and bobs.

When I first began baking, I was rubbish. I used to put the timer on and forget that I wouldn't hear it go off. Once, I baked flapjack and forgot about it for so long that the kitchen smelt for weeks and the ingredients were so fused to the pan that I had to throw it away.

When I get my dream kitchen, I will make sure this never happens... somehow.

Does anyone know if you can get vibrating oven timers?

Wednesday 29 April 2009

Deaf sounds of summer

Today I am writing this from my Pinkberry, in the middle of a massive traffic jam.

It’s most annoying as I think it’s going to make me late for work.

Anyway, the gorgeous amazing sunshine that is streaming through the bus window has got me thinking...

Is summer nearly here?

I really hope so.

I love summer. I love all the sounds of summer.

For me, these are the drones of lawnmowers, the hum of the acrobatic planes near The Rents’ house, the whirr of aircon and the bass line from music drifting out of open windows.

Before I went as deaf as I am now, in fact when I was about 5 years old, I had very different sounds of summer. On holiday in Menorca one year, I remember drifting off to sleep to the sounds of crickets chirping, the low murmur of The Rents talking on the terrace, and the sound of David Fishel, the resident singer at the local bar singing about the worlds most dangerous man.

I didn’t know I was deaf then, no one did. Not even when my mum said ‘no’ and I thought she said ‘go’, and I ran out in front of a truck.

I wouldn’t really recommend doing this. There was blood. But on a plus side, everyone kept giving me presents!

But it never occurred to me that I might be deaf, nor to anyone else. They just thought I was being me, which at 5 was a big whirlwind of enthusiasm for doing everything at a 100mph.

So really, I guess I was just being me!

Tuesday 28 April 2009

The hiccup cure

After the success of the Russian hiccup rhyme, Deafinitely Girly was inundated with requests for this amazing little cure. So she dropped her personal Russian expert Tsarina a line, and she has very kindly not only provided the phonetic Russian version but also the English translation, too.

So what I would suggest is eating a piece of bread really quickly to give yourself hiccups and then giving they rhyme a go, but read it carefully as I vill write this only once:

Ikota Ikota peredi na Fedota
Se Fedota na Yakova
Se Yakova na vsyakova

And here’s what you just said:

Hiccups Hiccups move onto Fedot
From Fedot to Yakov
From Yakov onto any other

Did it work? Write to me and let me know please!

Monday 27 April 2009

My ears are dead


Well, Deafinitely Girly had a most fabulous weekend in Barcelona – in spite of the torrential rain and thunderstorm that blighted her breakfast yesterday.

It would be fair to say that Miss K and I hit Barcelona in style and deafinitely absorbed all the city had to offer: Cava, absinthe, tapas, Absinthe bars…


I mean, Gaudi, Picasso, incredible architecture, culture and sea views.

Actually, I think we managed to effortlessly combine both and it’s still a magical mystery to me just how we managed to fit so much in.

It was my first time in the city and I found it’s hard not to walk around always looking upwards, spotting the beautiful Gaudi buildings that slot seamlessly into the modern streets. I love the idea of passing one of these on a daily basis.

Saturday night, Miss K and I ventured out to a club called La Fira, which was amazing. It was decorated with old fairground paraphernalia including dodgems – one of which I didn’t see on my way to ladies and fell headlong into!

Anyway, it was all good. Miss K got chatting to a rather dishy Frenchman and I danced the night way, quite happily not talking to people – the accents and the extremely bad and loud Spanish pop made it an almost impossible task.

Also, I once again found the language barrier meant it hard to explain to people that I couldn’t hear them. They saw me talking and laughing with Miss K and wondered how I can do that with her but not with them.

When I used to go to France a lot, I told people in French that my ears were dead – that usually did the trick, although I got a few shocked looks, too. And when I visited Big Bro in Clogland, he taught me to say that I was blonde as he felt it was a better explanation for my inability to follow conversation. And he may well be right…


Anyway, I have vowed start preparing now in my quest to make it easier to socialise in foreign countries for the next time I go away. So, I’m off to learn: ‘I’m hard of hearing and need to lipread you’ in every European language.

Friday 24 April 2009

greetings from Barcelona

that is where I am...

the keyboard is terrible, the sun is shining so I am off.

hurrah hurrah

Thursday 23 April 2009

Happy Birthday to Deafinitely Girly

Hurrah, hurrah!

Today, Deafinitely Girly is 1 year old! This time one year ago, I finally plucked up the courage to get writing – to put fingers to keyboard and type about what I really feel about, um… well everything really.

Sometimes this has been seriously written and studious prose (ha!) while other times it’s been quick posts when I’ve been a little bit busy. But, nearly every week day, without fail, I have written.

So here I am, one year later…

…and what a year it’s been.

There have been births – Big Bro’s latest son, Micro Clog; weddings – Friend Who Knows Big Words and French Boy’s; and one death – Adrian Sudbury, a fellow journalist who I didn’t know but who’s courageous blog I followed daily until the dreaded day that the post didn’t come from him.

There have been tears, laughs and a good few tantrums, too – namely about the BBC, who have since redeemed themselves magnificently with the help of RedBee Media and the now wonderfully-subtitled iPlayer.

Anyway, no birthday should be without celebrations and so after weeks of beavering away, I am proud to announce the launch of Deafinitely Girly’s shop!

Ta da!!!!!!!!


Um, yes – well it started out by accident you see – I decided to make myself a hoody with Deafinitely Girly on it and the company I bought it through encouraged me to set up a shop…

So I did!

There’s something for everyone – and a rather fetching pink sun visor that’s probably for no one. Although Gingerbread Man does play golf – perhaps he’d model it on the course for me?

Anyway, I think it’s utterly brilliant, and so does Friend Who Knows Big Words – she’s already ordered her chav-tastic tracksuit bottoms you know…

Now, now, don’t all go crazy buying stuff – we are in a credit crunch you know – but have a look, and a laugh, and wonder where I’ll be this time next year.

Perhaps by then, I will have my own range of Deafinitely Girly pink deaf-friendly gadgets…

Move over Aston Villa hearing aids, Deafinitely Girly’s on her way to Global domination! Now if you haven’t already, take a peek, HERE or visit!

Wednesday 22 April 2009

A million words!?

Did you know that according to the Global Language Monitor there are nearing a million words in the English language?
When I first read this on BBC breakfast news subtitles this morning, my first reaction was, ‘Is that all?’ But it’s true – I went online and checked it and the word count stands at 999,205.

But still, a million seems like quite a small number to me. After all, a million pounds is totally imaginable. Look through the papers and a million is an everyday London currency.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, words. Well, as you know at the Beeb, viewers are encouraged to email in on the news stories of the morning and when Bill and Kate started reading out favourite words emailed in, the subtitles has a total meltdown. I still have absolutely no idea what the jumble of letters on the screen was meant to read! Although I was given an ‘ono’ a ‘mat’ and ‘oei’ so I would hazard a guess that some bright spark viewer’s favourite word is onomatopoeia.

Does everyone have favourite words? I do. Mine are envelope, said like the hug not the mail out, and regurgitate. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but both those words are quite simply the nicest words to say. They roll around in your mouth like a giant gobstopper and verbally taste quite delicious.

I am also confident that I can pronounce them, which is partly why Versailles and Cadogan will never be on my favourite words list... as apparently I don’t say them right!

Having had a think this morning about all the words I already know, that’s when a million seems like a lot. For an English graduate, I first discovered my vocabulary was shockingly small when I compared my A-level essays to those of my peers. This did not please me. I think at the time my crazy hearing therapist told me this was because I didn’t hear as many words as them. Whether she was just trying to make me feel better or if this is true I don’t know, but from that day on, I began to really read words. Not just paying attention to the sentence or point they made as a group, but what they meant individually. And gradually my vocab grew.


OK, I still get it wrong sometimes, I use peruse when there is nothing to read and profuse when it isn’t, but I’m confident that I’m a lot better than I used to be.

Do I know a million words? Um don’t thing so. But I’ll tell you a girl who does...

Friend Who Knows Big Words of course!

Tuesday 21 April 2009

It's really, nearlly almost my birthday! :-D

Today, I am excitedly awaiting a parcel.

I love getting post – it reminds me of being a kid and waiting for your birthday to arrive and seeing cards turn up on the doormat in the days before.

Anyway, this parcel is a long-awaited birthday present for Deafinitely Girly – this blog turns 1 on Thursday you know – so I thought I’d do something to celebrate.

Sometimes I can hardly believe I’ve been nattering on for one whole year – finding things to talk about, rant about, cry about and laugh about. Looking back, the first post seems like yesterday, the events that have followed are still clear in my mind’s eye…

And, when I get old and grey and forget them all, I can become my biggest fan and read them all over again.

By then I might have pink bionic ears, have fulfilled my ambition to be a concert violinist and played a game of Chinese whispers without totally mucking it up…

What an exciting thought, eh!?

Monday 20 April 2009

The Russian hiccup

How can it be Monday again already? Eh?


However, this terrible fact is made better by the gorgeous weather and the fabulous weekend I had!

In the midst of sunny walks, BBQs and Monopoly, I also discovered something most interesting – if I speak Russian, it stops me hiccupping!

I know!!!!!

I discovered this at BBQ at Friend Who Knows Big Words' house. She's the one who married French Boy recently don’t you know.

Anyway, after nearly setting light to the fence and smoking out the entire neighbourhood, we finally sat down to a delicious supper of sausages, ribs and jerk chicken. My contribution to the event was a large couscous salad and this gave me hiccups.




Actually, it gave me hics...

After a while people started to notice, and there were numerous suggestions to drink water backwards, and various attempts to shock me – but with Friend Who Knows Big Words, very little could. Then, Tsarina, who was also at the BBQ decided to teach me the Russian cure.

Hmmm, I thought sceptically. I can't even lipread my own language well enough to get the pronunciation right sometimes, how am I gonna cope with something like Russian?

And it's fair to say that we had a few hiccups, both literally and pronunciation wise. But then, I got into the swing of it and performed this rhyme, which is about sending your hiccups away to various different places in Russia. And at the end?


Not a hiccup in sight!

But that's not the best thing. Nope, that was when Tsarina said my Russian pronunciation was excellent.


How extraordinary!

After discovering I speak Turkish sounding like their equivalent of an Essex wide boy, this left me beaming with pride.

Just don't ask me to remember how to do it again, please!

Friday 17 April 2009

French Cousin 3

Today is Thankful Friday – and for that I am thankful.

Last night, while pondering on some rather dark news I received, I got an email from French Cousin 3 – it was lovely. In it, he raved that I looked like a young Meryl Streep – he’d recently watched a movie with her in from the 80s and thought it was me – and that everything in his life was perfect.

His enthusiasm was infectious – it made me smile.

So today, I am thankful for French Cousin 3

Thursday 16 April 2009

Can I fix it?

It is with achy fingers that Deafinitely Girly brings you today’s blog.

The reason for this is that I finally decided to get back into climbing and hit the wall with Fab Friend and Flo. It was great fun – although Fab Friend is still technically recovering from a recent foot operation. Flo has not been slacking like me, or having foot surgery like Fab Friend, and still climbs regularly, so she shinned up all manner of things very efficiently with me following, arms pumped, fingers burning and head asking me what the hell I was doing!

When we were about three climbs in and I was about to embark on my next route, the manager of the wall came up to us and said something. Fab Friend as you know is also deaf like me, and the two of us looked completely baffled as to exactly what it may have been.

Actually, even Flo looked a bit confused!

Two tries later and we finally established he wanted me to fix a loose climbing hold on the way up the wall and that he was Northern Irish. I asked him for the ratchet tool and he expressed surprise that I knew what it was called…

Um… doesn’t everyone?

And so, off I went, with the funny-looking tool thing (a ratchet!) attached to my harness ready to fix the wall.

It was great fun actually, I got to hang on the rope, bash the hold into place and fix it so it didn’t spin round anymore – it was a nice change from just going from A to B, which is what I normally do at the wall.

I like fixing stuff – not in a dungaree-wearing Wendy-from-Bob-the-Builder kind of way – but it’s quite satisfying to take something apart and put it back together again, working. Although it’s always worth remembering how to put it together again – as I discovered with my washing machine, two floods later…

As well as liking mending stuff though, I am also good at breaking stuff. This is my fifth computer keyboard you know – they don’t like it if you throw tea over them as I have discovered four times already.



Make that five…

Yesterday, in a fit of clumsiness, I catapulted my mug across my desk sending the contents spewing over my shiny white keyboard and Pinkberry.


Alas, I don’t know how to fix either and somehow I don’t think knowing what a ratchet is, is going to help me on this one!

Wednesday 15 April 2009

The lady on the bus says what!?

Deafinitely Girly's country mouse alter ego burst forth with gusto yesterday, and for the first time in a long time, London made me a tad bit claustrophobic.

It was the weirdest feeling, like I couldn't catch my breath. I didn't want to be on the bus, indoors, I just wanted to be on a big green hill, at the top, gulping in lungs full of air.

I think I've been feeling this way since my dream about the Wild West um... Country – since I saw the amazing view from the hill again, the one I used to see every day growing up. I miss that view right now.

I told this to Snowboarding Boy, and he was happy to walk with me as I gulped in the air, focussing on the green things and ignoring buildings taller than three storeys, and do you know what? It's worked.

I woke up this morning soothed by the bustling city around me, fascinated by the cross section of society right there walking along the pavement as my bus pottered past.

Speaking of which, I had the oddest bus ride to work this morning. There were the usual subtitles telling me which stops were coming up, but in addition to this, there was another quieter announcement in a lady's voice that was not subtitled.

It kept being said and I was most intrigued as to what it was. By the tenth or so time it occurred, the first word was clearer and I was pretty confident that it was WARNING.

‘Eh,’ I thought, no one seems very bothered by this.

In the end my inquisitiveness got the better of me and I asked the paper-reading, business-suited businessman next to me.

And do you know what the announcement was saying?

‘Warning, smoke detected!’


Now, as a non-hearing person I am not sure how many warnings a day hearing people hear, and whether they just zone out from these announcements unless it's something they can honestly believe is going to happen.

But this was my first warning of this kind, aside from ‘Mind the gap’ on the tube.

Was I meant to sit there and ignore it too?

In the end I sniffed, and breathed in and out as deeply as possible to see if could detect any smoke. I couldn’t, so decided to join the hearing peeps on this one and sit tight.

But it did get me wondering why the bus company religiously subtitles every single stop that’s coming up, but doesn't warn deaf people that the bus could potentially be about to burst into flames...

Most odd I thought…

Tuesday 14 April 2009

Easy listening

Ahhh, what a lovely Easter break I had.

French Cousin 2 came over from Paris and we visited The Rents, which involved lots of tea drinking, delicious food eating and movie watching – all with subtitles – HURRAH.

We had planned picnics and bike rides but the atrocious weather put a stop to those ideas...


However, on our return to London yesterday we were greeted by some sunshine, so we walked our feet off in a vague attempt to repent our chocolate-eating sins and had a great rummage through fabulous charity shops in posh areas – some great bargains were found!

But spare a thought for French Cousin 2 today, because she had to leave my flat at 4.30am to get the Eurostar back this morning. It was with bleary eyes that I waved her off, her suitcase laden with crumpets, chocolate raisins and Golden Syrup, before I returned to bed.

I lay there, aware that it was stupid o’clock, but quite unable to get back to sleep. So I did something quite unlike me – I listened.

I didn’t assume I couldn’t hear things, instead I lay there and tried to hear things. Trouble is, because I don’t know what I can’t hear, I don’t know what I didn’t hear. But here’s what I did hear…


Three motorbikes, one siren (this pleased me as I am not normally aware of these), a door slamming downstairs (blimmin’ neighbours), several cars zooming by, an engine running for a while nearby. It was rather soothing, this listening business, so soothing in fact that I was soon fast asleep again.

And when I woke, I discovered I had slept through my vibrating alarm, New Housemate clattering around the flat and leaving for work, the start of rush hour traffic chugging past my bedroom window, and several emails buzzing through on Pinkberry.


I was late

and tired

And as many hard of hearing people know, tiredness is not conducive to easy listening. So I’m preserving my energy and not doing any at all today.

Until later that is…


Friday 10 April 2009

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday

The sun is shining, the birds are most probably singing - well the ones that haven't been eaten by The Rents' cats that is - and I am in the countryside for Easter.

French Cousin 2 and I completed our epic journey up here in the dead of night and she's currently still sleeping it off. But being a morning person, I was up bright and early, not wanting to waste a minute of the day...



that is a complete lie.

Here's how my morning really went:

There I was dreaming about being on a lush green hill overlooking the most amazing blue lake when all of a sudden everything started to shake...

I woke in that kind of panic mode you get, sitting bolt upright like a vampire rising from a coffin(thankfully I was sleeping alone) and realised that the shaking was still occuring from the depths of my duvet.

Frantically scrabbling around, I eventually located my alarm clock, reading 6am! Does it not know today is holiday!?!?!

Anyway, once the adrenalin levels get as high as they did this morning, it's very hard to get back to sleep, so I lay in bed for a few hours, willing my heart rate to return to normal and wondering at the incredible shake-awakeability of my alarm clock that I found in the bargain basement bin of a gift shop in the skanky end of town.

Tonight however, it will be turned off...

I want that lie in!

Thursday 9 April 2009

The visit of French Cousin 2

This week, I don't get to name the days of the week. Tomorrow won't be Thankful Friday, it'll be Good Friday, and today is Maundy Thursday and yesterday was Holy Wednesday.

Today, I am most excited because French Cousin 2 is coming over from Paris to stay. She's quite excited about the whole situation too, and sent me an email about keeping goats in the south of France.

Hmmm, yes...

I think she's another lucky family member who inherited the ‘eccentric’ gene.

Do you know, when she was about 11, she set up a cult called the Soldive Melon Cult? She converted a load of people at her school, had them worship her as an idol and had this catchy prayer chant with actions that to this day, I can still remember.

One Christmas she even baptised London Uncle – with melon juice.

*Should I be telling you this?

Anyway, while I should point out that French Cousin 2 is not still in the habit of running religious cults based on fruit, she has carried this refreshing originality with her throughout her life.

And this is good for me because whenever I visit her in Paris, she always finds the most utterly brilliant things to do.

Regular readers will know that last time I went [see Life On Mars post] she took me to an bar with fake grass and deck chairs where we watched a Russian silent movie full of propaganda and um... aliens – or a Martian princess called Aelita to be precise.

The live music accompanying it can only be compared to the sound of a million castrated dogs howling and by the time it finished, there was barely an open eye in the house – including mine.

So this weekend when French Cousin comes over, I need something wonderfully original to take her to.

Something that beats a Russian propaganda silent movie watched on deck chairs and fake grass.

Suggestions on a postcard please!

Wednesday 8 April 2009

What's really real?

Yesterday, after a fab catch up with Clever Katie, I indulged in an episode of Colleen’s Real Women. This week saw her searching for girls who could be the new face of KitKat Senses and she found three who seemed lovely.

But then something rather sad happened. On presenting the girls with their portfolios, the quirkiest of the three announced that she hated her shots and didn’t realise she was that ugly.

It seemed a genuine shock reaction, not fuelled by a deep-set insecurity but a here-and-now realisation of ‘I look like that!?’

She pulled herself together on the surface but I wondered how it really affected her – to have this new vision in her head of what she looked like.

I don’t think she’s alone in this horror though. I mean, you’re the one person that can’t actually see yourself. Sure, you can see everything except your face and a bit more if you’re really bendy, and with a mirror, there’s a clear image of yourself staring back. But how do others see you? And does everyone see the same? And what the heck influences what people see?

When I was growing up, I always wanted to look like someone else. I thought that by putting on clothes that were like that person’s, I would achieve this, or by styling my hair in a certain way, I would magically transform my face.

Thankfully, over the years, I’ve come to like the me I see when I look in the mirror, and the me I see grinning back at me from photographs – which as Emma discovered often don’t look how you’d expect them to.

I thought I’d moved beyond all those insecurities. So just imagine my shock when it happened all over again...

Aurally or maybe orally!

You see, at the weekend Jenny M, Advertising Girly and I were driving along with Abba blaring out the car stereo. The sun was setting and creating the most incredible light, so I started to film Advertising Girly singing, looking out of the window.

Aside from the insane wobbling of the camera, it made quite a good film, but as we were playing it back, I heard the most hideous sound – my voice!

It sounded posh, nasally, and quite frankly wrong! Red faced, I deleted the video and asked Jenny M if I really sounded like that.

She laughed at me and informed me everyone hated the sound of their own voice, but to other people it sounded normal.

It’s so weird. It’s almost like we are prisoners inside our own heads. Our eyes and ears are there but neither gives us a clear perception of how we really look and sound.

So which one do you believe? The mirror, the photograph, or other people’s view? The voice you hear in your head, or the voice on the recording of a home-made Abba video?

But then, on second thoughts, does it really matter? I can’t change my voice or my face and someone out there is bound to think both are quite nice.

And this is what I want to say to the quirky girl on Real Women. To quote the biggest cliché of all time, Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder, and while she might think she looked ugly, I think she was pretty alone in that thought.

Tuesday 7 April 2009

Designer hearing aids

OK, OK, so I know the blog posts are becoming later and later, but it’s not my fault I promise…

I’ve been a little distracted recently.

Anyway, as all of the above is strictly confidential, I had a quick look at today’s deaf news and discovered that you can now get hearing aids with Aston Villa football team’s logo emblazoned on the mould.

Now, rather bizarrely, the one and only time I ever followed football – for three brief weeks in Year 8 at school – I supported Aston Villa as it was where my pen landed on the list in the newspaper when I closed my eyes. I was a rubbish football supporter as I find watching it less interesting the putting pins under my toenails. However, had I ever succumbed to the addiction of football, would I have wanted to advertise this on my ears?

Um, no…

But then, let’s just translate this into to girly speak and ask myself the same question but replace an Aston Villa logo with something like the Chanel logo or maybe Marc Jacobs. Hey, I could get a pair to match my glasses.


Still no actually.

While I am sure young Aston Villa fans will love the idea of logo moulds, it’s just not my cup of tea.

I often laugh when I hear about people who don’t need glasses buying designer frames with clear lenses to look more intelligent or because they suit their face.

But just imagine – if hearing aids do succeed in becoming fashion accessories in their own right, with designer endorsements and celebrity followers, will you be able to buy dummy versions that don’t actually work just to follow the crowd?

I eagerly await my first celebrity sighting!

Monday 6 April 2009

My Wild West um... weekend

I find that Mondays are always much more manageable if the weekend that preceded them was fantastic – and perhaps that’s why I am having such a good Monday!

As you know, I went to the Wild West um… Country to see Jenny M, Advertising Girly and Earth Mother-to-be. It was brilliant to see them all and we did the usual bits and bobs – shopping, tea-breaking and of course a slap-up meal in honour of Earth Mother-to-be’s soon-to-be new arrival.

Now, ahem, I am no expert on pregnant women or anything but Earth Mother-to-be could be a Government advert for how to look during pregnancy – and how to do all the right things, too. She’s a picture of blooming health and has been doing wonderful things like yoga classes – while coping with the stresses of moving house. It’s incredible – I guess you could say that pregnancy seems to be agreeing with her.

Anyway, we all said hello to the bump and it got me thinking about what I heard when I was in Ma’s womb. I mean, I know I wasn’t as deaf as I am now, but did I hear all the sounds you’re meant to hear like Ma’s heartbeat and Pa’s voice – or was the world a total shock when I arrived?

If it was the latter, it may go some way to explaining just why I screamed for the first three months of my life – I was probably desperate to get back to the nice quiet world of the womb.

And do you know, I can still be like that sometimes – minus the womb part – but I still crave quietness occasionally. I have this fantasy of having a house in the northernmost point of Scotland where I can go when I want that silence.

Super-Cathy-Fragile-Mystic and I went there once on holiday and as I ran up to the cliff edge and breathed in, I felt completely relaxed. Up there, I know I’d would be surrounded by the sounds of nature, which would seem loud to most hearing people – but they wouldn’t disturb me.

Even on the day we visited, the sea was crashing against the cliff and the wind was almost making it impossible to stand up – but my world was still wonderfully quiet. There were no police sirens to make me fall over, no noisy neighbours with their thumping bass music, none of the low noises that make my world seem louder than it should be.

Time to start saving for that holiday house I think…

Friday 3 April 2009

A pigeon on a megaphone...

Today’s blog comes from Pinktop in a little cafĂ© opposite my house. Pinktop hasn’t been working so well recently so I took her to Snowboarding Boy and he sorted her out and now she’s working a dream. Hurray!


Which reminds me, today is Thankful Friday and I am thankful that I have another day’s holiday. It’s timed quite well as I still feel rather poorly, with a very sore throat and a bunged up nose, so I can take it easy, eat lots of toast and drink Lemsip.

What an exciting life I lead, eh?

This weekend, I am off to the Wild West um… Country, to visit Jenny M. She’s a hotshot director don’t you know, with her own theatre company, so we’re going to spend some time designing her new logo. She doesn’t want it to be pink apparently. Deafinitely Girly thinks everything should be pink!

It will be nice to be back in the county I used to call home. It’s quite a beautiful place with rolling hills and tiny villages nestled away in the valleys. I think living there was one of the reasons I never noticed my deafness because everyone who visited our house used to remark at how quiet it was. And of course, I couldn’t help but agree!!

Thinking back to my days in the Wild West um… Country, it really was very quiet. I never heard the birds that used to hang out in the garden, although this could have been because our cats had eaten them all. Although, come to think of it – there was one time I heard a bird, and I nearly fell over with shock. There I was in the lounge, watching Neighbours after school one day when all of a sudden I heard this ‘Coo-coooooo-coo’ clear as a bell.

Eh? I thought to myself… what the hell was that?

And so it continued, ‘Cooo-cooooooo-coo, cooo-cooooo-coooo.’ Eventually, after much wandering around, I tracked the noise to the fireplace and further investigation outside revealed the fattest wood pigeon in the West sat atop our chimney. Outside, I couldn’t hear him, but inside, the chimney acted as a megaphone making it sound like a pigeon the size of a house was sat on our house.

But I loved it! I loved the fact that I could finally hear a bird, albeit a pigeon. And for that reason, they will always be my favourite birds – even the mangy, skanky London ones.

Wednesday 1 April 2009

April Fools' Day

Deafinitely Girly had a dream last night and Jeremy Clarkson was in it.

Anyone who had rude thoughts after that sentence, please wash your minds out!

I dreamt that I was the star in the reasonably-priced car on Top Gear and it was great. Being anonymous as I am, I was wearing a pink version of The Stig’s outfit and together we caused quite a stir.

Now, some dreams can be premonitions, while others can show your deepest desires and I think this dream falls into the latter category, rather sadly, as if it was a premonition I’d be jumping up and down with excitement. Then there’s the third category of downright weird – and I’ve had plenty of these, which will never be blogged.

Anyway, I do so want to be the star in the reasonably-priced car. Just imagine how much fun it would be. I’d be so happy, but only if my time is quick and Mr Clarkson is as nice and complimentary to me as he was to Will Young.


So, today is April Fools' Day and I am on red alert for anything out of the ordinary occurring. Except today, in London, everything out of the ordinary is occurring. President Obama is having breakfast with Gordon Brown – not ordinary. Half of the City of London is on lockdown – not ordinary. The sun is shining – not ordinary. I quite fancy a Cadbury’s creme egg and it’s not even 10am – OK that is ordinary…

But honestly, how am I meant to work out what is an April Fool and what is some G20-related issue?

Did you know that today is my last working day of the week? I have tomorrow and Friday off – I met Friend Who Knows Big Words for dinner last night and she was not impressed to hear this and is now even more convinced that I am incapable of working a full week.

Anyway the reason for my time off is that The Rents are visiting as it’s their wedding anniversary and we’re going to do some fun stuff – starting with the theatre tonight. Which reminds me – it’s not subtitled so I really should stop nattering on here and start learning the words.

Hope no one makes and April Fool out of you!

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