Thursday, April 12, 2007

Good Idea, Bad Idea

Good Idea: Going up north to your boyfriend's parents' house for Easter weekend, where the weather was lovely and sunny and dry all week long.

Bad Idea: Going away on a posh Easter holiday to the continent where it was 11 degrees and raining all over the rest of Europe. Nyah-nyah!

Good Idea: hot, hot, Pirate whoopee.

Bad Idea: Sleeping in separate bedrooms. (Not by choice.)

Good Idea:
Dressing up prettily and going to church on Easter morning with the family.

Bad Idea: Going to a boring, morose church service with no music or celebratory inclinations of any kind. I've gotten more enjoyment out of bellybutton lint than I did out of that liturgical "celebration."

Good Idea: Going to the Grandmother's house in Cumbria for Easter Sunday Dinner.

Bad Idea: Spending Easter Sunday wishing the Grandmother would hurry up and die already so the Pirate can inheret the gorgeous house (the old vicarage) with the lovely gardens next to the babbling river in the pretty stone village surrounded by green pastures of fluffy white sheepy type things so you can both move in and be happy ever after tending the vegetable patch and listening to the hens clucking pleasantly in grass.

Good Idea: Making the Pirate an enormous, 4-layer chocolate and raspberry cake for his birthday.

Bad Idea: Giving up chocolate right before Easter and thus negating the possiblity of eating any of the aforementioned cake, despite being the one who made the fucking thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Good Idea: Spending a sunny Saturday afternoon at the Point-to-Point horse races.

Bad Idea: Spending a sunny Saturday afternoon among thousands of drunk spectators and having to spend 40 minutes queueing for the priveledge of using an overflowing porta-loo that ran out of bog roll at 11 am because they drastically underestimated the number of people who would show up.

Good Idea: Driving to aforementioned P-to-P in a royal blue, 1969 Aston Martin DB5 with black leather interior and sunroof in mint condition.

Bad Idea: Listening to jazz flute interpretations of pop music hits on CD during aforementioned drive.

Good Idea: Pudding!

Bad Idea: Pudding at every single meal, twice a day, for a week. I'm going to live on brown rice, steamed vegetables, and grapefruit for the next month.

Good Idea: Being nice to your boyfriend's parents, your (hopefully) future in-laws, and making pleasant small talk at family meals.

Bad Idea: Spending a week making polite conversation, taking constant effort to never say rude words, make rude noises, or mistakenly suggest anything inappropriate about anything. (That takes a lot of energy, I can tell you.)

Good Idea: Spending an aftertoon visiting a stately home.

Bad Idea: Visiting and taking guided tours of 4 stately homes and their gardens in as many days with your boyfriend's mother who wants so much for you to have a wonderful time and learn everything there is to know about the history of the area.

Good Idea: Go down to the local archery club with your boyfriend and spend a nice couple hours pinging off arrows at a target, while your boyf (who happens to be Robin Hood), shows you how to use all the fancy equipment and teaches you to shoot properly.

Bad Idea: Holding the bow incorrectly so that whenever you let off a shot the string scrapes the inside of your left elbow and leaves a massive, painful bruise. Also, losing one of Robin Hood's very expensive competition arrows in the grass because you failed to hit the target altogether and lord only knows where the blasted thing went.

Good Idea: Giving your boyf a Birthday Blowjob.

Bad Idea: There really isn't a downside to this one.


First Nations said...

oh the sheeps! oh the countryside! i want granny to die, too. i'm pulling for ya.
SUCH wonderful pictures!
but too much pudding; i agree.

we had ham and bikers for easter.

Billy said...

If only you could have had the jazz flute interpretations of pop music hits in the church it would have been perfect. Along with taking a slice of the cake, hiding it and eating it on Easter Sunday WHEN IT IS ALLOWED.

lawyerina said...

I had to take archery in high school. I still can feel the bruising on the inner elbow. My condolences.

Chaucer's Bitch said...

fn: mmm, bikers are lovely on rye bread with a bit of butter, horseradish, and cripsy lettuce!

billy: it's an addiction thing, not a diet thing. no choclate, period.

lawyerina: i wish i'd gone to your high school!

Hannah said...

Urgh. Separate bedrooms. A pet hate. I've never been any good at avoiding the squeaky floorboard, and it only increases the chances of getting caught in flagrante by a mother who wants a quick word with her boy first thing about the laundry and is greeted with a little more than conversation.

Or so I imagine.

Warrior Two said...

Hmm. Not to trounce on all your happiness, but of late I have found that reading your blog just heightens my sense of loneliness. I may have to take a bit of a vacashe...

Da Nator said...

Wait, is "jazz flute" slang for "blow job"?

Dave said...

What sort of idiot clergyperson can manage to take the joy out of Easter Day?

Annie Rhiannon said...

"Spending Easter Sunday wishing the Grandmother would hurry up and die already so the Pirate can inheret the gorgeous house..."


Chaucer's Bitch said...

hannah: tell me about it. and with the brother visiting it was impossible to get any time alone. we managed to beg our way out of a family luncheon and so get the house to ourselves for an hour one day, but that was IT. and we took advantage of it, i can tell you.

w2: oh! i feel so bad! i'm sorry. i don't mean to be a source of sadness. do whatever you need to do, hon, but remember you're always welcome.

Nator: it is now!

Dave: i don't know, but it was so upsetting i was actually in tears in church. all i wanted was to belt out a few joyful "alleluias." *sniff*

annie: like you've never had those thoughts!

Anonymous said...

I liked the picture of the sheep. It smelt of the land.
And the stone-skimming picture. Men like to skim stones. We're weird like that.

Chaucer's Bitch said...

I like to skip stones, too, but I don't have anything like the Pirate's arm strength. What that photo doesn't communicate is the sound of the stone actually humming as it skims the surface of the river. i was genuinely impressed.

The other thing the photo doesn't tell you is that in the first photo I took he's still wearing his coat and hat, but he heard me taking pictures behind his back he promptly stripped all his upper layers, the poser! :-)

llewtrah said...

But why save the blowj for birthdays? All I need as an excuse is a "y" in the day ;)

Sorry - my oral fixation has got the better of me again. Maybe I was weaned too early.

Chaucer's Bitch said...

who said I save BJs for birthdays? I don't remember saying that. :-D

(I'm with you on the oral fixation.)