Flamingo Files

• I always feel as though my evening is my entire day. Daylight hours are spent doing what I have to do, either at home, or in the Basement of Our Discontent (workplace). Nights - after dinner I get to do what I want to do. A couple of prescious hours to do something or nothing...so I live for my evenings, my evenings are my entire day.
• I was never a stage mother. My daughters both did speech and drama lessons outside of school hours. Eldest daughter absolutely adored her classes and nothing would keep her away from them. Daughter 2 was more in it because her sister did it and therefore she must also! Every year their teacher would enter them in the Eisteddfod. I would pray she wouldn't as I dreaded the whole event. Sitting in a cold church hall somewhere in the middle of winter listening to the same poems being recited year after year, knowing that the prettiest, daintiest girl, or the child of the woman who provided morning tea for the judges - the suck artist- would win anyway. But year after year she would push them into it and  kicking and screaming, and I am ashamed to say I did scream loudly, I tagged along. They won just enough to keep them interested but I was only too happy when Daughter 2 decided to quit. Daughter 1 continued though, despite her mother. The moral to the story is that her first job out of university was as a broadcast journalist - she presented the news on radio every morning! Her voice made her semi famous! Mum had to admit her wrongs and swallow her guilt every time we went out and someone would say - I know that voice - aren't you.....Eventually she decided that she couldn't do real news in Australia - almost infotainment, the dumbing down of Australia alas, and so she left journalism and became a media teacher which she finds more rewarding. So, my children are a success despite their mother.
• Upon hearing that Yves St Laurant had died I emailed daughter 2 and thinking I was so funny wrote "oh no where will I buy my clothes now?" She replied, St Vinnies (charity shop, St Vincent d Paul) as you usually do. Bet she thought she was funnier...not
• Had another managers' project meeting today. I had forgotten so it kind of crept up on me - maybe a good thing. Mega Boss is a great one for meetings starting right on time. Not a problem for me for as I have written previously, I am anal about time. I am always early. Three of us arrived on time. MegaBoss waited for Boss and rest of the team to arrive and then gave them all a dressing down. She spoke to them like they were children. It is not always their fault that they are late as many of them are front of office people who have to deal with the public . and so can't just leave their desks at will or without a replacement. It is habitual though I must say. The worst thing is that we "goodies" don't know what to do when the others are getting hauled over the coals. Where do you look? Down at the table? At another goodie? It makes us feel just as bad. Ok. you know me, there was a part of me standing behind my chair going "You got into trouble, you got into touble yeah!" especially towards a couple of "lovely ladies" that if there was ever an emergency, in my role as floor warden I may not alert to flood or fire, but you all know I am secretly evil and so would expect no less. Please don't hate me...anyway I felt as though we goodies had been hung out to dry as well. MegaBoss is studying HR at Uni and is always telling us that HR is her thing - if you think being stoned to death is HR that is. I will always have more qualifications in this area than her, but that is my dirty secret. We have another meeting Thursday now - bah humbug.
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  Another staff meeting was had by all
  I got a fast response to an email I sent yesterday and I replied with a "thank you" reply. She replied with a "my pleasure" email. I saw the red flag waving. I so wanted to reply "no, my pleasure" to see if she would reply again. I was plotting to continue until she surrendered but my assistant heard my plotting and restrained me from my email contest of wills. To me an email is not a life story, it is not a formal letter, it is a fast and efficient communication - not overly wordy. I hate (yes another dislike list) people who carry on with formalities and take forever to get to the point. If I wanted your life story I would invite you to dinner, well maybe not dinner beause I don't invite people to dinner, I might invite you to coffee, somewhere else, not my house, to ask you why you sucked your thumb until you were 28. I also hate people who send emails they don't check and so often don't make sense. This is also a frustration with Vox - how you can't correct mistakes in comments. 
• Just to prove I am a nice person I will tell you one thing that I do like. Hydrangeadrangea. Blue ones, maybe green, but not pink. There has to be one dislike in there - so no pink, no thanks. Keep those,
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When I was a good little catholic girl, every night I would say my prayers. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. WHAT THE HELL? What sort of prayer is that to teach a child - if I die before I wake? No wonder we never wanted to go to sleep and when we did we woke up with night terrors. Just what a child's last thought before sleep should be - death. Only catholics would come up with that little ditty surely. Fire and brimstone, death and destruction at bedtime. Wonderful. Beam me up Scottie , would have been a much better recitation to implore heavenly rescue. Or, take it away maestro, might have been less psychologically damaging to the young psyche. See you later alligator? To market, to market? Home Lord and don't spare the horses?

I may be overtired.