My life as a soap opera

Today I really intended putting my head down and really getting through some heavy duty writing.  But instead I went and saw Julie and Julia.  Meryl Streep is very good...as always.  The addition of Julia's own book added an interesting aside.  I did not know that "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" was co-authored with two others...French women - Simone Beck and her sister Louisette, whom we will discount because "She doz nurt do za wurk"! Julie's blog was, obviously, much more popular than mine. Maybe I should be spending a year working my way through the Edmonds cookbook! But the joy of the blog for the blogger is you can shout whatever is on your mind out into the ether and at least pretend to yourself that you are being heard and validated.

So if I did not write what did I do? I rode my bike on the windtrainer while listening to my favourite Lily Allen tracks. I did not sing along. I did my food shopping and danced around the store to 80s tunes, just to prove I was in a genuine good mood. This has bearing on the next paragraph.  I even smiled at the grumpy woman who lives on the 5th floor. I was in a really fantastic mood. I decided it might be nice to go to a nice pub where I could enjoy a glass on my own and not be accosted by Lotharios.  To this end I sent out a few texts to elicit suggestions. Most people replied they were unable to recommend any such place not being big on pubs (Average age being 55 I believe). Fair enough! I would probably reply the same and that is the crux of the matter! Because....

I then decided to insult someone by calling them a rude bastard!  I assure the recipient is not a bad person - I have been told he restores ones faith in humanity but I find that a little extreme- I see no signs of stigmata nor a halo. I beg the jury's tolerance. Let me plead my case. Mr RB had become incommunicado without explanation and I had been a little worried. My inquiry was important to me. I sent it....and what do you know! no reply.....so after two hours I decided to go out guns blazing and shoot...myself in the foot.  But as I said my response was not based on a single episode, it was the final straw after a long period of tolerance and acceptance (I know, I'm a Saint!). I make no apology for my response, I contend that  a recidivist non-texter who does have the ability deserves to be told the plain truth.  If not from me, then who?

What I learnt from this episode is the following: silent resentment and mumbling under your breath means you run the risk of continuation of the treatment which causes the same or getting a reputation as a crazy woman and maybe even a pet name. But shock treatment, especially that resulting in defensiveness, can result in sudden re-institution of the ability to text to said miscreant and short term rehabilitation of the recidivist, if only to curse you out or at least do some toy throwing. So dear jury, do you not see it was literally a case of self-defence.  Who would not have done the same in my position? Now if my life was really a soap opera, Mr RB would see the effect of his behaviour and there would be a touching scene where we both apologised and agreed to quarrel no more as per Jo and Laurie...whoops I'm slipping over into the classics! But alas it is a reality show so we'll probably form opposing teams and compete for sacks of flour and immunity.

I have also learnt not to buy wine with a cork if you are not in possession of a corkscrew! It is difficult to drink yourself into a self-righteous stupor if you cannot open the bottle. I wholeheartedly support the screw-top proponents! Though bubbly may still need it's special cork to retain it's delicious sparkle.

Today's beautiful word
Recidivist the chronic tendency toward repetition of criminal or antisocial behavior patterns