Thursday, 9 August 2007

And Another Disasterous Two Days Went By... (Somerset Story)

Current mood:  exhausted
Well, first off, I'm starting over with the Pony Bank idea next week, and saving the money for the UK PonyCON instead of Pinkie Pie, otherwise I won't get a chance to save for that event before it happens.  If there's any money left over, or if I don't get to the CON as it now looks like I may not (see below), I'll save it towards Pinkie.  It was pointless even trying.  The last three days I've snacked and snacked, and not done any exercise.  I'm totally useless, especially when I'm out on day trips.
OK, I confess, I'm disappointed.  Nobody at all left me any comments or sent me any messages while I was away.  Have I offended and upset you all?!  Elisabeth, I haven't heard from you in a while - if you ever get a chance, I'm almost always online and awaiting an IM!  Nothing else ever happens in this existance, so the internet is always on.
Now, since you all love me so much, I'm sure you're dying to know what happened in Somerset!  No?  Well, if that's the case, you'll stop reading, but something tells me you'll be intrigued to read about the latest miserable story of my life...
So I'll start right where I left off in my last blog.  Mum awoke from the sofa, told me the computer should have been switched off, and we should be in the "communal bed", as I call it, and I politely informed her I was just turning it off.  I accidentally bit my tongue, and complained about the crooked teeth they won't let me get sorted out, and was promptly told to "Shat ap!"  (That's "Shut up!" to all you non-commoners)
So I dragged off to bed, crying as usual, and crushed myself into the smallest space that I could, while Mum laid over the other side of the bed.  Apparently, she woke up in the middle of the night to find I'd rolled over and was "looking" at her (even though my eyes were shut).  She told me to "move over", and in my sleep I said, in a really posh English voice (which she hates, as she says I should be proud of my common accent!), "Mother, I am only trying to get home."  Supposedly, she replied, "Where's home, for God's sake?  You ARE home!", and I said in an 'American accent', which I think was probably meant to be Canadian, "You know exactly where home is.  Stop lying to me!"  I recall none of this, by the way.
Next thing I knew, it was 6am and I was being woken up.  It was 8am by the time everybody was ready to go on the wonderful belated birthday outing for my Mum.  Before we had even left the house, the first disaster struck.  Amongst the clutter in the hall, Dad has a pile of mail (everything from bills to advertisements for cat food), which he never bothers to sort out.  I was by the kitchen door, getting bags of food, drinks, clothes, and goodness knows what else, and Mum was out in the front garden, packing the car up with various junk for our one night stay, when I heard an almighty CRASH!!!  I returned to the hall to see all of Dad's mail all over the floor.  Dad was halfway up the stairs (Surprise, surprise - He'd obviously knocked the mail down!), but pointed his finger at me and said, "It's you!  You run everywhere, creating vibrations!  Now look what you've gone and done!"  When I showed him the "evidence" of my bags from by the back door, he knew it couldn't be me.  Just then, Mum walked through the front door, and he turned on HER"What's wrong?" She asked.  "His mail's fallen on the floor." I explained.  "Yeah, 'n it's YOUR faul'!" the evil creep turned to my Mum, spitting his words out.  "Wot ma-yal did ya put on tha poil todai-y?" He glared at her, speaking in a more and more common accent as he got more and more wound up.  "Nothing." Mum replied.  "The post hasn't come yet today."  Dad fell silent, wondering who to blame next.  Splodge, in his hutch, for sending telepathic signals begging for the pile to fall down?  Maybe the next door neighbours, for playing their music too loud again?  How about the old workmate who now lives in Australia - surely he had something to do with it?   But Dad realised it was pointless, shut up, and started picking up the mail. 
I, from the tiny un-cluttered couple of square feet in the lounge, made a comment about people who "didn't clear their stuff up, or give anyone a bedroom.  Maybe if the mail was kept neater it wouldn't fall all over the floor."  I moaned how nothing ever got done, and said I wondered when he'd finally get around to sorting out plans for the new house, which he and the architect are *supposed* to be doing.  "Give Over!" He snarled at me.  "I've got to wait for yer' Mum to change 'er..." He trailed off, realising he'd said too much...although maybe on purpose.  Mum does have some rather unreachable goals for the new house, but Dad said he was going to form a plan.  Now he's practically admitted to waiting for her to change her mind.  Of course, that really upset me, I blurted it out to Mum, and Dad was so horrible to her that he made her cry.  What a great way to start her birthday outing.
Finally, we set off, me sporting my new sunglasses, since the sun was now high in the sky, and Mum moaning about leaving too late, in between gasping and screaming each time we turned a corner or passed a lorry.  (She hates Dad's driving)  Overall though, it was quite an enjoyable journey.  We even passed Stonehenge on the way, and discovered it's nearer than we thought, and that we *could* actually get there in a day trip, which Dad had always claimed we couldn't.
We finally reached Wiveliscombe at what must have been about mid-day.  The churchbells were ringing (Mum said, "For her arrival in the homelands") and soon we were walking around the church, where Mum was pleased to find some plaques commemorating choir singers from the "Greedy" family (our ancestors)  She got me to take some pictures of the place, so I will upload them when I get the chance. It's quite a beautiful place!  There was a guestbook there and somebody had actually written "researching our ancestors, the Greedy family.  Please contact us with any information, and we will be happy to share ours."  Ahh...what sweet people genealogists are.  Mum was about to write their address down, but then she saw their location - Vancouver!  "They wouldn't bother to help me anyway."  She said.  Gosh, is it a real hatred then?   If she's doing this just to bother me, then she might have just missed some really important information there for all she knows!
Next we went around the churchyard, looking for "Greedy" family graves.  I took my sunglasses off of my head, and messed up my hair.  Of course, I had no comb or mirror with me (they were packed away in the car).  Having commented on this, Mum said, "Don't worry - I'll do your hair for you later."  I don't know why - I think I was still upset from earlier, regarding what Dad had said about the house - anyhow, I flipped, and said she should let me have more independance.  At sixteen, I don't want or need my own hair done by her.  Of course, she was "disgusted" by me, since we were at the edge of a peaceful graveyard.  I said, "Well, I'm only here on photographer duty." and she replied, "Come off it!  You're enjoying it really!"  I gave an equally stupid answer for that stupid remark.  After that, the trip just went down...
Having walked around the churchyard, we went into town...well, "town" might not be the right word for it.  It's a tiny little village where hardly anything ever happens, it would appear.  We couldn't evenfind anything to eat, until we found two packs of sandwiches in the tiny little Co-op there.  We went in the post office, and bought Mum a book about the history of the place, and then walked back to the car to eat our cheese and tomato sandwiches.  (I hate raw tomato, but I was hungry enough to eat it)  I did pop in a charity shop on the way back, but no such luck...
Next on to Dulverton, where there was a really LOVELY looking "Thrift Shop". I could seeit was packed full of 80s toys...but I didn't like to ask to go in there, since it was Mum's special day, and *I* had been trying to ruin it since that morning apparently!  Huh?  I thought it was my weird father who'd started this!  So we just went around the church and graveyard (No success this time), and then went on our merry way.
We drove through Exmoor, but there were no Exmoor Ponies to be seen.  Somewhat disappointing, I must say.  We never got to Minehead, which was another place that Mum wanted to go, since Dad got "tired", and decided to terrify her by parking at the edge of a road, and snoring loudly!  So after that we made our way to the hotel.  On the way we passed the pub my Mum's family used to run, and Dad asked her if she wanted a photo taken, but she said no.  I thought that was odd, but didn't argue.  Later it turned out she was so tired she hadn't realised where she was!  Finally, we got to the Express Holiday Inn, Taunton.  It was quite a nice place, and very clean...but boiling hot!   Of course, the four-people room turned out to be two double beds, and since Mum will NOT sleep with Dad (too long-a-story to go into, but I think you all get the gist of it by now!), I had no bed of my own even there.  The toilet was really odd, located behind a glass wall in the shower, and a special two-way door, which either closed on the entire bathroom or just the toilet.  Unfortunately, I didn't notice, closed the door on the toilet, and it was only when Mum was right behind the glass, combing her hair by the basin, that I realised the shower wall was not a mirror!  Luckily, even though both of my parents walked in there, neither of them turned around!
After Dad had spent an hour messing about with the TV (We had several Sky Channels - a real novelty to us, although Dad had to disturb me by "almost" [listening the the lead-up, but not the actual theme tune] watching The Simpsons, which he knows he's banned from doing, since he's so odd when it comes to listing voice actors, and I want to "protect" Nancy Cartwright!  Well, we all have our own weird ways, don't we?!), we went out to Little Chef.  The waitress decided to tell us we couldn't just order veggie sausages, baked beans, eggs, and chips like we normally have, then when we ordered a proper meal, she said we could have just ordered a mixture of asides. Then she said we couldn't again!  Make your mind up, woman!  In the end, we spent far too much buying less food than ever, because of her stupidity!
Before we even finished our expensive meals, she dumped a tray and receipt on the table, obviously after a tip for her hard work, and tried to take Dad's cup of tea away! (Still half full!)
We got back to the hotel at about 10pm, and decided to get ready for bed immediately.  Due to Dad's weird ways, I won't wear my slightly-tighter-fitting-than-baggy-t-shirts pajamas in front of him, so I had to dash from the  bathroom to under the duvet while he was asleep on the other bed.  Of course, this also meant that I couldn't take the duvet off, and I was SO hot, you wouldn't believe it!  They had the heating on full pelt, and all of the windows only open a certain amount to avoid small children getting out...they must be VERY small children is all I can say!
I don't think I got a wink of proper sleep, until at 3am I got up and changed back into my ordinary clothes and washed my face.  I could hear the people in the adjoining room moaning about the heat too.  Good.  I'm glad it wasn't just me!  When I finally did get to sleep, I began having a really odd dream about how a journalist had read my blog and made my life-story front page news on the "Daily Mail" without my permission.   Loads of people were writing in and asking me questions (which I could answer immediately, as though they were on a computer?!?!?!), and a woman in Canada offered to give me free board and lodgings until I got back on my feet after all of my long as I drank orange juice...What the...   (Probably 'cause I had a drink when I got up at 3am and it tasted "off" - probably 'cause it had been in the bottle for almost 24 hours!)  I hate orange juice, and apparently spoke in my sleep again, saying, "Orange.  I don't drink orange."  I heard my Mum reply.  "That's right, and that's why I'm getting apple juice."  It was 6.30am, and she was up already.  I then recalled being woken up half an hour earlier to see my Mum madly trying to turn the alarm clock off - each time she hit it, it beeped louder and faster!
I rushed to get dressed, and we went down for breakfast.  Mum said she wanted toast, but it came out too burnt, so Dad ended up with all of her rejects (about 12 slices in the end, I think!), then she said she wanted chocolate rolls, but only if we could "steal" them for tea!  Finally, she decided upon Rice Krispies - she put whole milk on them though, which she doesn't normally have...  I had Cornflakes.  We did nick four of the little chocolate rolls, and six of those little pots of Unigate milk you put in your tea - I love those, and it's been years since I've had any!
Having waited hours for Dad to finish his toast, lick the knife a hundred times, and also stuff a bowl of weetabix AND a bowl of grapefruit into his mouth, and then for him to go in the bathroom for hours, we finally got out of the hotel at 9am.  I had been promised a boot sale, but of course we had to go back and photograph the pub, so it was 10 o'clock by the time we got to the car boot.  And just as we arrived, it began to POUR with rain, and everyone rushed to pack up. Such a pity, since the place was packed with stalls full of 80s toys.  All that remained of any pony stuff though was an absolutely soaked G2 Magic Garden Playset - the stickers were peeling, and I very much doubt the music would still have played either.  One of the most likely looking stallholders packed up all of her goods, saying she was taking them to the tip...luckily, she got them back out again, but no ponies.  I felt sorry for the flocked horses that were in her boxes, but I knew I had nowhere to put them...
Sadly, I left the dripping TY Beanies and soaked VHS cassettes behind, and we decided to spend the day at Cheddar Gorge, where neither Dad or I had been, and where Mum has been wanting to go back to for 20 years.  It's a really great place, and so beautiful too.  Unfortunately, I was tired, and my teeth were really hurting me (or rather, the roof of my mouth which my teeth had dug into the night before), so I wasn't in the best of moods, and Mum didn' t make it much better.  All the teenagers give me such a weird look, since I kind of look like a kid in a teenager's body, I guess.  And one of  the staff there really glared at me for no reason. My hair got messed up by my sunglasses again, and Dad even managed to get me in as a kid. I'm sick of it.  Maybe that's why they want me to stay this way - so they don't have to pay as much for me?
I enjoyed the caves we went in, and Mum loved seeing Cheddar Man, now that she knows he was from the tribe that her ancestors came from, following her recent DNA test.  Then we went in the giftshop,and found three more of the t-shirts they like me to wear...including a really nice unicorn one.
We found it was pouring with rain and waited for hours before sprinting down the road to the cheese factory.  Mum was disappointed by it, having wanted to go there for so long, but I found it quite interesting.  At the end, they let us taste the expensive cheese.  I was asked which one I wanted to try, and simply said the same as my Mum, the goat's milk one, but was told I was a miserable b*tch for some reason.  Still, I liked the stuff and we bought a pack of it...
Then we went to the sweet shop and watched them making pear drops.  There was a wasp in there buzzing around, and since I don't react very well to wasp stings, I was dancing all around the shop to avoid it.  Again I was told I was being "off-hand".
We wanted to go into Cox's Cave next, but we were too hungry, so went in search of a sandwich.  Sick of being a "bridesmaid" to my parents, I walked ahead of them, and walked right past the sandwich bar.  Both of them glared at me, as if I'd done it on purpose, but it was an honest mistake because I was in a daydream...
Anyhow, there was a sign on the counter saying what sandwiches were available there.  "Well, come on then!" Dad shouted at Mum.  "Make your mind up!"  Mum, of course, couldn't see the board without her glasses on (they were in the bottom of her bag), and I stuck up for her.  Dad started to read the board, and the man behind the counter said something about a beef burger they were selling cheaply that day.  Dad sneered at us, then turned to the man and laughed with him,  "Oh, you shouldn't have said that! These two are vegetarians!"  He cackled.   That really annoyed me, but I kept my mouth shut.  Mum selected a cheese and salad sandwich.  "And what do you want?" Dad asked me. 
I, trying to keep my mouth shut, so as to not show my ugly teeth, as ever, replied, "Egg mayo, but you know that anyway."  Obviously, neither of them did know enough about me to know that was my favourite sandwich filling though, 'cause they asked me again...and AGAIN"For goodness seek," I tried to shout in my posh voice, with my mouth still half shut, "You know that I like egg meeyoneese!"
Both of them through a wobbly that I was showing off, and marched back to the car in silence to eat their sandwiches.  (After all, it was my 'tantrum' that had stopped them sitting on the chairs at the sandwich bar...which were soaked from the rain, may I add...)
There Mum told me how I had made the two days as miserable as I possibly could for her, so that...wait for this one, it' good!  As if I'd think of something so strategic!...she would know she couldn't enjoy holidays, and so she would not go on holidays, hence I could have guinea pigs, and we would have no need for the money she's get by selling the house!  Or maybe it was to do with wanting her to leave an hour early so that I could get back to the bl**dy computer...  Goodness me, mother. You have an imagination on you all right!!!  To punish me, she now says she won't 'take me' to the MLP Convention, and she won't allow me to go on my how much do you bet I now won't get my exclusive pony anyway?  I certainly won't be getting one with her ticket, it would appear...  Anyone got any ideas?
We drove home in silence...well, apart from a radio show about Australian music which was pretty good...  And they didn't really talk to me much since.  When we went to bed last night, there was another row, and Mum ended up coming downstairs to sleep on the floor, not being able to find enough floorspace amongst the clutter to sleep in, needing to sleep on the sofa and sending Dad out to the other house through all of the violent drunks in this road at 2am!  Before he went though, he came upstairs and loudly told Mum that I was in the bathroom, and that she should go to bed, and I should be made to "stay there" - in the bathroom.  What?  Just because I don't want to sleep in a double-bed alongside my Mum any more?  That's atrocious!
Anyways, it took all day to get Mum talking to me again, and since they are my only way to get out of the house (since I'm not allowed out on my own), I haven't left the house all day, and Dad had locked our stiff back door before we left, and it had got jammed, so I couldn't even go out and skip with the rats.  Oh well, I'm going to shut up now.  I've spent too long messing around on this computer over the past 15 the little plastic knob on the space bar is broken, and I'm taking ten times as long to type anything.  *Sighs*
Anyhow, I need to get to bed - it's 2.40am here!  I hope you enjoyed my latest tale of woe!!
Best wishes,

Desiree Skylark xxx

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