My mother tried to befriend me a few hours after her comment, as she always does after she says something to upset me. I told her off.

I said that she couldn’t have it both ways, that she couldn’t put me down then act like we’re friends. That she couldn’t be both my enemy and my friend. I said that she was a drama queen; that it was all about her feelings, not mine. I said that she took me for granted. I said that there were no children in our house, we were all adults and that I should be treated as such.

I don’t know if she really heard what I was saying, but it was good to actually speak my mind for once.

I bought a few newspapers from the corner shop this afternoon and have been looking at rental accommodation. I’d love to have a one bedroom flat, or at least a self-contained studio. I don’t know if I’d be comfortable in a room in a shared house, but I have to keep my options open.

I’m really apprehensive. Though I’ve wanted to move out for years, I wanted to do it when I had a good, stable income and could get a mortgage on a decent place. Now it feels like I’m repeating the mistake I made 6 years ago, except that I don’t have a boyfriend encouraging me to move in with him this time around.

Perhaps that is the difference. This is something I’m doing alone, for no one else’s sake or benefit. Maybe this is the life change that I need to propel myself forward, once and for all. If it all goes to hell, so be it.

The party was okay, slightly better than I expected. I didn’t get any of those comments, though I did receive a few appraising looks from some of the older ladies there. I was on edge all day though, expecting someone to say something. When my godmother spotted me and called me over I was worried, but she only chastised me about not visiting her, then gave me £50 as she used to do when I was younger. I had to accept the money to be polite.

With my brother’s girlfriend and one of my cousins around, I wasn’t the only young woman of ample proportions, which probably stopped me from being a target.

Every so often I would retreat to my bedroom, though I wasn’t always alone in there as my brother and uncle would come up and ask me to burn a dvd or discuss some TV show. My brother’s friend’s wife said that I should have spent more time downstairs, as she’d barely seen me. I felt a bit guilty when she said that, but I honestly felt really uncomfortable trying to socialise with all the people who were around, and had to fight the urge to escape. Also if I hung around downstairs for too long, I ended up becoming a waitress, taking food orders between the domino table and the kitchen.

Talking about the domino game, it was quite amusing when the men moved the table nearer to the house after a while because they were getting bitten by mosquitos!

My dad ruled the turntable with his old school reggae, until my brother slipped in some modern tunes as a respite from the “dead music”.

Although mum was exhausted by the end of the day, she seemed happy with the outcome, which was the most important thing. However, I did cringe a little bit when she mentioned repeating the exercise next year.

I’d love a back massage right now, my body is aching from hoovering the entire house after a long day at work. Of course I should have done it yesterday when I had the day off work, but of course I am Queen Procrastinator and I couldn’t summon the strength to do it at that time.

My bedroom is a tip, well my bed is anyway. I put loads of junk on it to force myself to organise it (i.e. hide it all in the bottom of the wardrobe) for the party tomorrow.

My cousin, M, sent me a text message saying that he’s looking forward to all the good food that’s going to be on offer. I’m glad that he’s coming, as he’s a very cool dude and an ally.

For the last few weeks I’ve had a spectre lurking in the corner of my consciousness. My mum has decided to have a garden party for her birthday on Saturday, and I’m dreading it.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for my mother and want her to enjoy her birthday celebrations, but I am not looking forward to spending a whole day socialising with relatives. Being totally honest, I am particularly not looking forward to being ridiculed about my weight. Two years ago my godmother made a comment about my weight, when I was actually the lightest I’d been for many years. Though she’s not a slim woman she felt it was okay to put me down in front of other people. It hurt me that instead of asking about my job or my interests she felt that this was the only thing she wanted to discuss with me.

Now I’m heavier than I was two years ago, and I fully anticipate that she or someone else will say something about it. I need a strategy to get through the day, to ensure that any such negativity doesn’t drive me crazy.

A few days ago I decided to tell my mum that I was happy to help her to setup the party, but I didn’t want to be there when the guests arrived. She was upset, and said that she wanted me to be there. I told her my worries, and she said that if someone says something hurtful to me I should just smile and make a swift exit.

Do you have any suggestions?

Just a little while ago, while watching Clash of the Titans (1981), my father said to me that if he’d had his way I would have been named Andromeda. Or at least it would have been my middle name.

It’s an interesting name, but I’m not sure how much it would suit me. Or perhaps the name would have bestowed certain qualities on me, perhaps I would feel more like a princess. A princess who was due to be sacrificed due to her mother’s hubris, but a princess all the same.

I’ve just finished posting several auctions onto ebay on behalf of my brother. The items are all baby-related. As he was clearing out some of his cupboards recently, he came across loads of brand new baby clothes and other bits and pieces that his broody ex-girlfriend purchased while they were together. (Maybe her pregnancy scare wasn’t an accident? I remember her calling my mum and telling her that the condom had burst… we were all on tenterhooks until her period came again.)

Now my brother isn’t in contact with her anymore, and as he’s eager to raise some extra spending money for his trip to Las Vegas in a few weeks, he asked me to help him sell the stuff. I’m taking 10% for my trouble.

Click here to check out the merchandise if you want to buy a nice pressie for an expectant mother. I can find out about international postage if necessary. Email me if you’re interested in taking them off my hands, or have fun bidding!

My cousin Freddy is currently enjoying a two week break in Jamaica. He’s staying at the same hotel where I stayed in May. My friend who works at the hotel mentioned that he’d had a chat with my cousin and his girlfriend.

Later on I had the following conversation with my mum: (more…)

About a week ago my mum and I went to Brussels for the day on the Eurostar. It was a follow-up to the trip we took there last summer for my mum’s birthday. Last time I paid for us to stay at the Marriott hotel for a few days, but this time she paid as I’m rather financially-challenged at the moment.

I prefer taking the Eurostar to flying. I’ve been thinking about going to Rome by an overnight train from Paris. It sounds more romantic to me, like taking the Orient Express.

Anyway, we got the train to Brussels. Then instead of taking the taxi to the centre of town we decided to have an adventure and take the tram. After a few confusing minutes of trying to find the toilet in the station, then figuring out which tram to take we finally were on our way. The trams moved very quickly so we had to hold on very tight to keep from falling over.

So we arrived at Bourse Beurs and found the main shopping road, with lots of clothes shops. We looked around for a while and bought some bits and pieces.

After a while we stopped at a nearby hotel restaurant. We both ordered the 2nd most expensive item on the menu, the small t-bone steak for 16 euros each.

Then on to more shopping. We enjoyed a waffle, some ice cream while people-watching in the square.

Soon it was time to make our way back to the Eurostar station, and then back to London.

When we got to Clapham Junction we were delayed for a while due to a broken-down train. A young guy asked us for money while we were waiting for our train, saying that he was hungry.
“I’m hungry too,” said my mum, sending him packing.

It was nice spending some quality time with my mum. And my wanderlust is stirring again.

It’s my mother’s birthday on Saturday, so I thought that I’d do a Thursday 13 in her honour, as I did for my dad a few months ago. Here are 13 things about her.

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It hasn’t come completely out of the blue; my mum has mentioned her feelings on my lifestyle in the past few days, but an hour or so ago she decided to have it out with me.

She said that I am acting like my life is over, because I stay in the house a lot and don’t go out much. She said that she is worrying about me, and that I wasn’t like this a year ago. A year ago I used to go to the gym, go to the cinema, etc.

She said that my dad is also worried about me because I spend a lot of time in my room and I eat a lot of junk food and sleep a lot during the day when I’m not at work.

At my age I should be going out all the time…

What they are saying is true, but I feel okay about my life at the moment. I’m not going out a lot, but I am more of an introspective person and I appreciate having time alone to think about things and to read, etc. I’m not particularly unhappy, though I admit that I’m somewhat unfulfilled and directionless. The only thing that sometimes upsets me is my inability to pursue my creative goals, and to slim down.

I do take myself out sometimes, and I do exercise sometimes, so it’s not like I’ve completely “given up on life”.

I think that this is a phase that I’m going through, and in time I will probably want to go out more and be more active. I don’t want my parents to worry about me, but I guess it’s hard for them to understand my moods and needs.

Sometimes I tell my mum that she should be more supportive of me since I’m not causing her a lot of trouble; things could be worse, I say: I could be a drug addict or an alcoholic, etc. Sure it’s not ideal that I eat the odd packet of biscuits from time to time, but I’m not hurting anyone else.

I don’t have much of a social life; some of that is my own fault for being somewhat socially awkward, and some of it is just the way that things have worked out. I don’t have many friends, and the ones I have don’t ask me to meet up with them on a regular basis. I don’t have a group of friends who I meet up with at the weekends or in the evenings (like everyone else seems to have). Some of the friends I have only seem to contact me when they want something from me.

I’m not sure what to do at this stage. If I do anything.