Down Under in Western USA

My sleep pattern seems to be totally mucked-up now. Last night I went upstairs at 8.30, intending to have a nap. I set the alarm for 10.30 and woke about 10.40, but went back to sleep again. Next thing I knew, it was 6.45 am, so I'd almost slept the clock round. I got up at 7 o'clock and although that's normal for most people, to me it seemed as if I was getting up in the middle of the night. I mean, it was still dark! Chances are I'll be tired again by early evening, even though I've had more than enough sleep for one night.

I've noticed that my preferred sleep pattern seems best-suited to the Pacific time zone or the one before it, so maybe I should go live there. I find this somewhat perturbing insofar as people who live there are further back in time than anybody else in the world, but maybe it's because I've never wanted to grow-up. Having said that, chances are that if I did live there, I'd still stay-up way into the early hours and need to move to Australia or something. Eventually I'd probably end-up back in the UK where I started.

I mean, even my Google mood ring proves that I am just not suited to being awake at this ungodly hour! Yeah, I know it's totally random, but it does fit. Well, sort of. I'm not really feeling like that, I'm more bored than anything. Maybe I should go take a nap ...

Google Mood Ring (Amber): Nervous, on edge, uncertain

My True Love is Hairy With a Backward B (OMG)

Well, I was right. I didn't actually go to bed until 1 am. I set my alarm for 8 am, but was woken abruptly at 7.45 by my daughter, who was running up and down the stairs muttering "Oh My God, Oh My God", over and over. Turned out that her boyfriend, who was supposed to arrive here from London at 5.30 pm, had actually arrived somewhat earlier (his idea of a surprise) and she was panicking as she wasn't awake/washed/dressed/made-up. He didn't sleep on the coach down, so is now asleep upstairs on a mattress on her bedroom floor and apparently intends staying there until she gets home from school.

She should be so lucky. The love of my life is unavailable all weekend, so I have to play the gothic heroine and pine a lot. This is something I'm very good at as it happens and I can help it along nicely by playing soppy songs and pretending I'm Catherine Earnshaw. I've always been annoyed that some idiot decided to name a stupid cartoon cat after one of the most romantic heroes of all time (the most as far as I'm concerned), because it sort of takes something vital away when you cry out "Where's my Heathcliff?" to the cosmos, not to mention the risk of your true love turning out to be excessively hairy with whiskers. Wouldn't have sounded so good when Cathy screamed out "I AM Heathcliff" either, come to think of it.

It's not as if I don't have things I could be doing to occupy my time, because I most certainly do. Chances are I'll get a fair bit of time to myself, because my daughter's boyfriend is very accommodating in terms of taking my youngest off my hands, so I could take the opportunity of doing something constructive like cleaning-up (HA-HA, when I have the house to myself? As if!).

At the moment I am listening to ABBA. They are such an institution, I think keyboards should have a backward B on them somewhere so we can type the name properly. So who remembers them winning the Eurovision Song Contest? Unfortunately, I remember it all too clearly, even if it will be 33 years ago on the 6th of April. Apparently they came third the previous year with "Ring Ring", but I don't remember that.. As I recall, I watched them win at my first fiance's house and I remember him saying he thought Agnetha was "low-slung" and I had no idea what he meant.

My second fiance and ex-husband of almost two decades (I married that one) had a thing about Frida, which was a change because most men preferred Agnetha. He said Frida reminded him of me, although I never saw any resemblance. I did have a similar perm once, though. My eldest son, incidentally, is no exception to the Agnetha rule. Once when he was about 18 months old we were watching an Abba concert and he woke-up with no reason, which he normally never did. I brought him downstairs and plonked him on the fireside rug and he sat rivetted to the screen for the entire duration of the concert, then immediately made it clear he wanted taking back upstairs. He still fancies Agnetha to this day, even if she is more than old enough to be his mother - crikey, she's even older than I am. Then again, most of the women he fancies are. As for my middle son, he just fancies any woman who moves (especially if they're Greek).

Well, I started writing this ages ago, but I keep doing other things and not getting around to finishing it, which means I have long since stopped listening to Abba. So, if you want to know what Abba songs I listened to, you'll have to click on one of the songs on my list and go to my musical profile page, which listens every single song I've listened to since I started using the system. And I haven't even got around to classical yet.

Google Mood Ring (Green): Steady, stable, no emotional turmoil

To Sleep or Not to Sleep

It's 9.45 pm and I'm knackered. I've only been up about 13 1/2 hours, so I must be short on sleep if I'm this tired already. Trouble is, getting up before noon at the earliest is not good for my system and my body can't handle it. I'm not sure, but I think most hermits are night owls and it just isn't right that we're forced by society to get up at ungodly hours when the sun is shining and stuff. Not right at all.

Of course, for a hermit I've had a busy day in that I had to do something that really does give my system a shock ... yes, I had to GO OUT. Typically, for the first time in ages, it was raining at the time I had to go and, typically, I couldn't find my umbrella. On the homeward journey, it was raining so much that I had raindrops dripping from weird places like my nose (better than other things that could have been dripping from it, I guess) and by the time I got home I was absolutely soaked. I had intended taking the kids to McDonald's afterwards, but that had to go by the board. Pity, 'cos I fancied a Big Mac.

As to where I went, it was nothing exciting, just to my son's school to listen to his teacher prattling on about how he's doing. Not worth repeating - he's excellent at maths and arts & crafts, very good at English, but crap at working as part of a group and hopeless at remembering his games kit . He's also very polite, very helpful and an all-round nice boy.

Anyway, as I'm knackered and haven't anything better to do, I am probably going to get a ridiculously early night. It may be a normal bedtime for most other people, but for me it's totally unacceptable and makes me think I'm at death's door or something. Chances are I won't go to bed for another 2 or 3 hours anyway, I never do when I say I'm going to. I'll get up and make another coffee and decide I'm good for another few hours yet, especially as in 10 minutes there will be something better I can do.

And I'm being told-off for singing again ... don't know why I bother existing at all, to be honest. Old, knackered and tuneless with a dripping nose. Not much hope for me really, is there.

Google Mood Ring (Dark Blue): Impassioned, delighted, whiff of romance.

Visitors Should Be Gassed

Being a hermit, I hate visitors. Sometimes I have to force myself to put up with them, but if there's one thing I can't stand it's when they arrive early. It's bad enough for me trying to be ready on time, but being ready early is basically impossible.

Today I arranged for my gas appliances to be serviced between 2-4 pm. This means that I expected the visit to take place somewhere between 2-4 pm. To me, this was logical and made perfect sense. Unfortunately, the men servicing my gas appliances were not as logical and therefore arrived at 1 pm, which meant I was not in the least bit ready and not in the least bit pleased. What if I'd been out and hadn't returned until 1.59 pm? What if I'd been 'indisposed'?

Being late is the way to go. Visitors who arrive late are courteous, polite and considerate. At least they are if they are visiting hermits. Having said that, the most courteous, polite and considerate people are those who never visit at all.

Moaning Musical Mothers

My teenage daughter told me off today. OK, so it's nothing new (I'm a lousy mother), but I do feel that she was out of order on this occasion. It's not as if I was doing anything wrong, I was only SINGING. I suppose the fact that I was wearing headphones (I'd been told to do that because I was disturbing her tv viewing) meant I was singing rather loudly (like you do when you're wearing headphones), but it's not as if I can't sing (well OK, I've had better singing days, but I'm still in tune). The thing is, since I've discovered Last.fm, I've been able to listen to all sorts of stuff I haven't heard in years, plus lots of new stuff, and I just have to sing to it if I'm in a singing mood. And today I just happened to be in a singing mood.

Anyway, I had a sort of indie morning, then I switched to the old sixties flower power stuff, which I just can't resist warbling to. It takes me back to when I was young and free and hopeful and totally unaware of the existence of "good old days". Anyway, there I was, warbling away at the top of my voice to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds and I got told off. I am now about to start warbling at the top of my voice to Itchycoo Park (for the second time) and no doubt I will get told off again, because I also sing this one very loudly (well, you have to, haven't you. Poor Stevie's been dead for almost 16 years, he wouldn't hear me if I didn't ... my god, has it been that long?). Anyway, let's face it, lyrics these days just can't compare to blowing your mind by getting hung-up feeding ducks with a bun.

My eldest son was here this morning and he sort of told me off as well, although not for singing. He said it didn't seem at all right that his mother should enjoy the same sort of bands he did and as a result he was seriously considering changing his musical tastes totally. I reminded him that he was the one who was heavily into the Doors, which were actually from my era not his, but he excused that by pointing out that the Doors were timeless and therefore didn't count.

One thing I've noticed is that some people on Last.fm have no idea how to tag music. As an example, I am more than happy to listen to Ace of Base because I like them (I am warbling away to them now as it happens), but they are NOT from the flower-power era, not unless it lasted into the 90's, which it didn't. And has anyone else noticed that the intro to "Always Have, Always Will" is almost identical to the intro to "I Can't Help Myself" by the Four Tops? Well, it is. Listen to them both and you'll see what I mean. Talking of "I Can't Help Myself" (sugar-pies, honey-bunches), I still remember the dance to that ... and the dance to "Band of Gold" ... and the dance to "Get it On" ... hell, I'm old. I need another visit from Christine to make me feel better. Then again, having seen her latest photos, maybe I don't.