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Share  Topic: 26 Tomorrow  (Read 4476 times)

Offline Sara Willis

26 Tomorrow
« on: January 29, 2012, 07:00:24 pm »
26 Tomorrow
29 January 2012, 1:14 pm

  dscf4397 Word up bitches.

Yup. The title is correct. I will be 26 tomorrow. A massive 26 years old. 4 years away from 30. I FEEL SO FUCKING OLD.

I know it’s not actually old in the long scheme of things but to me it is.

I have no plans for my actual birthday, never really do anymore. Not because I don’t want to celebrate it but because over the past few years I’ve stopped thinking about it so much. I’ve only really thought about it during the last week! My family have made plans for us to go quad biking and horse riding in a few weeks which will be amazing and we’re off for a curry on Tuesday. I think the problem is that my brother’s birthday is today (the 29th) so I’m too busy thinking of what to buy him that I forget about mine? It’s kinda annoying having a siblings birthday that close to yours as they’re always being celebrated by everyone jointly. Plus we’ve always felt that the other’s birthday almost cancels out the other. When I was younger I HATED it and so did Kien. He always felt that my birthday was deemed more important than his and I’d always feel like everyone still celebrated his on MY day. Plus we ALWAYS had joint parties. Which was annoying.

I remember the day he was born, I was just about to turn 4. I actually hated him because I felt he’d “stolen” my birthday. My Mum was still in hospital with him and we spent most of my day visiting him. I even had to pick out a special teddy for him, which I did begrudgingly. My poor Dad tried to make it as special as possible for me by making me a special dinner (chips, sausages and ice cream for pudding) but it just didn’t work.

For years I called him Birthday Stealer and resented him every 29th of January. But as we’ve got older we both laugh about it!

I think my best birthday was my 21st. That one was ridiculous. I got treated to a (joint ha) meal at a gorgeous local country pub with the family then my parents took me (and Kien of course…) to Rome. I’d always, always wanted to go and they asked me to pick a destination and we’d go. So I picked Rome. It was absolutely amazing there, one of my favourite holidays and just completely exceeded all my expectations. The only thing I regret is not having a decent camera. Well a camera full stop – all I had was my old phone camera! My boyfriend also took me to Las Vegas for the first time for my 21st. We went a few months after my birthday and considering I went back again twice you can tell it went well! Haha

I think the worst birthday is a toss up between my 4th (as you know) and my 18th. It was absolutely dire! My parents had organised a surprise party with the help of an old friend. I was in college at the time and I had an inkling they were organising one. I had visions of it being amazing. The reality…Not so much.

I know I sound REALLY ungrateful but even my parents admit it was a disaster. Because they’d got my friend to sort out the invites I had two sets of friends there: All my new college friends, and my old friends from school. You’d think they’d integrate and get to know each other but no. Instead there we all were sat in a room in a pub with two groups either side of the room. I have never felt so awkward in all my life! I had to keep going from one group to the other. In the end it got so uncomfortable that half my old friends left early and I got so fed up that I ended up spending my night with my parents and brother. And to top it off I’d argued with the boy I liked because he assumed I didn’t like him as a friend anymore (we went out for about a week during secondary school but never actually spoke to each other…It was during a half term holiday from school and on the day we went back we both got mutual friends to “dump” the other…awkward). We ended up not speaking for years. :(

As I’m getting older more people seem to think they gain the right to tell me how to live my life. Which is kinda backwards to me, surely as you grow older you should have less people trying to mother you? Anywho.

I keep getting the “26 soon? Still no pitter patter? Are you ever going to have kids?” tingaling. I used to get it a lot anyway but even more so now. At least now I have Nigel as a back up so I can say “I already have a child, he’s called Nigel”.

I don’t really know where I stand on the whole ‘having-a-baby’. I know I WANT kids, but I don’t WANT kids.

I know that won’t make sense but it’s like knowing tomorrow you’ll want a nice steak for dinner but come tomorrow you don’t actually want it.

Tomorrow ALWAYS comes and the want NEVER arrives.

I’m slightly worried that as the years go by – childless years – I’ll get to 45, have a baby and wish I’d done it 20yrs earlier. I thought I was completely alone in feeling this but I recently read an article by a woman (older than me, which made me feel better) where she said pretty much the exact thing I’m saying here.

When I was younger I used to say I’d have a baby at 16. No idea why as I never had a boyfriend. But Then again I used to say I’d marry Jonathan Davis from Korn too. But when I hit 16 it was “I definitely want a baby by the time I’m 20″. But as the years went by I started to want kids less and less. I know I’m going to sound like such a prick but I don’t like babies. They actually annoy me, I’m not a child person. I have NO maternal instincts whatsoever, I never know what to do with a baby when someone forces them on me, I catch myself referring to people’s babies as “it” which is awful, I have absolutely no interest in most people’s babies. And I can count on one hand the number of babies I consider cute. And two of those belong to the same girl. And the other 2 belong to my friend. The other 1 belongs to someone I follow on Twitter. Babies just look the same to me.

I don’t like it when they cry, I don’t understand how women can sit there cooing over a screaming brat. They’ll sit there and say shit like “Aww it’s hungry” or “Ahh it’s overtired” HOW DO THEY KNOW THIS CRAP?! To me it’s just a spawn whinging for no reason. I just wait impatiently for the mother to shut it up.

Even the googly sounds they make annoy me. There was once a baby on a seat in front of me on the train making these stupid sounds. Everyone else was going bat-shit crazy over it. It kept looking at me. I gave it NOTHING back. IT WAS DRIBBLING FROM IT’S NOSE FOR GODS SAKE. How is that “sweet”?! Disgusting.

I never want to be pregnant either. EVER.

I think my best bet is adopting toddlers. Now toddlers I fucking adore. I get on with toddlers, they can actually tell you why they’re crying, when they need to piss, when they’re hungry or bored. They talk back, you can teach them things to say and do. They’re funny. PLUS you skip the potty training!

I read an article a while back on adoption and the problems the UK have with kids waiting to be adopted. I always assumed kids were adopted left, right and centre but they’re not. And it’s so sad.

I realise this blog, again, has no flow but whatevs.

I’ve totally lost my flow now. Rosa just came flying in with a plant in her gob and I had to wrestle it off her. Now I don’t know what I was going to write. Which is annoying as I was totally in the *zone* then. Cow.

OH! I rescued a puppy today!

We were walking into town and we decided (random decision as I have never walked across it before) to walk across the disused train track on top of a bridge. There was this puppy, a Collie cross, walking ahead and when he saw us he jumped down a gap – we thought he’d jumped and fell to the ground but he’d landed on a cement pillar bit. We figured he’d done it out of fear and would get back out once we’d gone. But he was still down there on the way back. The poor git was shivering and looked really scared (and trapped) so I jumped down to get him. My Dad came running back flapping his arms about how dangerous and stupid it was but it wasn’t actually dangerous at all, where I’d jumped was perfectly safe and there was no way I could have fell. So I grabbed the puppy and handed him to Mum while I climbed out. We bumped into the old guy who looks after the town strays earlier in the square and I thought if I took the puppy to the end of the bridge he’d walk into town and hopefully find him. But when I put the little lump down he wouldn’t move and stared up at me shaking. So I picked him up and carried him all the way home. Luckily we have a lady living around the corner from us who works for the puppy rescue centre so we took him to see her. She drove us to the actually centre and they took him back in. I’d secretly nicknamed him Tinker. The woman who looks after the dogs/puppies thinks he came from a litter she has, there was 9 pups but she rehomed 2 a fortnight ago. She thinks he’s been re-abandoned which is not only disgusting but really fucking sad. Why put that puppy AND the centre through the joy of rehoming him only to fucking chuck him back out again? They have a policy where, if you struggle you can return the dogs but that lasts two months. So there was no excuse for it.

I have so much respect for the people that run the rescue centre. There’s a few people that take in the dogs and the lady I met today has kennels at the back of her house. They do all this just from donations and their own pockets. Yesterday they found a litter of 5 puppies dumped just down the road from me. Over Christmas they found a ridiculous amount of puppies.

I don’t understand why people do it. If you don’t want to have to deal with puppies, get your dog fixed. If you don’t want to then deal with the consequences. Don’t just dump them and leave them to defend for themselves until someone with a heart finds them. It just makes no fucking sense to me. I couldn’t imagine just chucking Nigel and Rosa out on their arses so I can’t understand why other people find it so easy to do, especially when the puppies are so young. Nigel and Rosa were abandoned and it makes me so sad to imagine them running around by themselves looking for food.

On a cheerier note I’ve got into making baked eggs. I know I’m probably way behind with this but I love them! I make chorizo and ham ones. I line the ramekin dish with thin ham (I really want to try this with Iberian ham…*drools*) then chop up a chorizo sausage into small chunks then crack an egg over it all. I bake it in the oven at 170 for about 15mins (my ovens kinda cack, it should only take 10mins). I like the yolks kinda cooked as I think it makes the chorizo taste creamy but you can have them runny. I made my Dad a pesto and camembert one today. I put some lumps of pesto (He has a poncy pesto which is quite thick) (You’re all going to tell me that all pestos are thick now aren’t you?)(Give me a break, I’ve never used pesto before)(Arseholes) in, then a thick slice of camembert then poured the eggs over. He said it tasted delicious, I have no idea. There’s a billion different recipes for these things, it’s nothing special, just something I’ve got into. Blame Chrissy Teigen and @bottrill.

I’m off now kiddlywinks.

Byeeee xxx

Source: BLOG: Sara Willis []

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