All my life I've lived a lie.
Last night I discovered something that came as quite a shock...on a par with discovering the world is round and not flat, being told that Santa isn't real and discovering that you can't touch your nose with your elbow.
I'm reeling, and am not sure when I'll be the same again....if ever.
Some counselling may well be necessary.
All my life I have been telling anyone who cares to ask that My Brother is fifteen months older than me. I'm sure this is what Grandma in Cyprus said all those many years ago and I have held that information dear to my heart, unquestioned all this very long time.
Yesterday it was My Brother's birthday. And for the first time in about 40 years we celebrated together. We met for a meal with His Better Half and The Cat's Mother - her first meeting with them. We chatted away pretty merrily for a couple of hours before the age subject came up. It was only then that clever clogs The Cats Mother pointed out that the difference in our ages was not fifteen months but a whopping 21 months. Somehow a whole half year had been gained. Or lost. I'm not sure which.
She thinks we're both daft. And has laughed at us mercilessly...as indeed did His Better Half. But if you're told something by your mum (who wasn't there to defend herself) why would you question it?
Anyway, I'm thrown, in a state of abject confusion and in need of support. I'm not the same person I was yesterday.
Once upon a time this was about Me and The Boy. The it was Me, The Boy, The Cat and The Cat's Mother. And now, I'm not sure who it's about. How life changes when you least expect it!
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Well it's not been a great week...
...for screen icons. Ironically, as I post this, The Stranglers are on the radio singing No More Heroes
First Tony Curtis. I'm avoiding the obvious, as I remember him best from The Persuaders with Roger Moore. They don't make them like this any more:
And then Norman Wisdom - many happy childhood memories were created by this clown; again I'm avoiding the obvious:
Let's hope Michael Douglas is a real fighter...my favourite being Romancing The Stone
First Tony Curtis. I'm avoiding the obvious, as I remember him best from The Persuaders with Roger Moore. They don't make them like this any more:
And then Norman Wisdom - many happy childhood memories were created by this clown; again I'm avoiding the obvious:
Let's hope Michael Douglas is a real fighter...my favourite being Romancing The Stone
Monday, 4 October 2010
No Prime Minister!
The trials and tribulations of shared accommodation include the traumas of food in the fridge...you know you put some food items get pushed to the back and remain there for several months, gradually gathering mould that the science department would like to experiment on. Alternatively mysteriously your stuff goes in there one evening and the next day it's disappeared...and no one will own up to it. It's good to see that The Boy has begun the move towards shared living early....
Saturday night we went to see a comedy play.
It was about foreign paedophiles.
Yes, I thought so, it's not funny.
Especially when that play is Yes Prime Minister...based on the classic TV series that made great humour out of the complex relationship between politicians and civil servants. Generally the humour revolved around minutiae of policies and events that were not of any great significance. Immeasurably amusing.
So its a real shame that this play is way off the mark, and dwells on a topic that couldn't be described as amusing in any circumstances. How do the critics get it so wrong sometimes?
Saturday night we went to see a comedy play.
It was about foreign paedophiles.
Yes, I thought so, it's not funny.
Especially when that play is Yes Prime Minister...based on the classic TV series that made great humour out of the complex relationship between politicians and civil servants. Generally the humour revolved around minutiae of policies and events that were not of any great significance. Immeasurably amusing.
So its a real shame that this play is way off the mark, and dwells on a topic that couldn't be described as amusing in any circumstances. How do the critics get it so wrong sometimes?