Fish Aid.

After a few days at home of pampering, unpacking and peas (yuck) I feel better enough to try and get some creativity onto the tinternet. Living with my parents, whilst lovely in the sense that I always have company and delicious food :) is also a complete bummer as it means I have chores to do (I feel a decade younger) and it's a bloody long trek to get to work.

The good thing is that my father knows considerably more about my fish than I do. As of late, Brain has been decidedly daft and quiet. He tends to sit on the gravel near the pump and then gets stuck, only re-emerging (after a hillarious wiggle of his fat little tummy) for food. We've tried everything- there were some concerns that their droopy dorsal fins were down to the driftwood and supposed chemicals it was leaking into the water, (which ended in me sucking up pooey water into a tube and siphoning it into a bucket at 7:30 in the morning. Joys.) or even the large white stone giving off alkaline. After researching on the net, I came accross some peculiar, but deeply amusing advice: Feed the fish peas.

We debated as to whether they should be frozen, chopped up, pureed etc etc, but decided on defrosted, chopped up plain old peas. Hubert at first was a little bemused by the strange green globules floating in the water, but gave them a hearty go. Brain however, after wearily wafting himself out from under the greenery near the pump, gulped them down in one go. (Quite a feat for such a little fat blobby fish.) Unfortunately, despite discovering that peas are good to go in the fish's opinion, they haven't really made Brain more sparky.

Another suggestion is that the pump is too violent for my fat friend. Hubert seems fine by it, but then again, Brain, being a Black Moor, looks as though swimming is ten times the effort. Whereas Hubert is graceful and elegant, streaming through the water as if he had little teeny ice skates on and a teeny weeny tutu, Brain just waddles. Bless him to bits, he wriggles and waddles and splutters his way accross the tank, only for the pumped out water to shove him back to where he came from. We've tried pointing the tube into the side of the tank but to no avail, Brain is just, well, useless.

Does any one have any suggestions as to what I can do to make them all happy and bouncy?

Also, apologies to those of you who aren't that eager about fish. I will find something more interesting to write about in my next post. Probably about my first time clubbing this evening after about a year; there are bound to be some mishaps on such an excursion!

Some sad news.

As the title suggests, this will not be neither bouncy, nor a joyful post. As Lemony Snicket (of the Series of Unfortunate Events.. series) says, please do not continue if you want a happy ending.

My life as of late has been as unfortunate as the unfortunate tale in a Series of Unfortunate Events. The most humungous unfortunosity is that Mr Peas and I have split. Done a runner. Broken up. Seperated.

It is very true that when you are down, life likes to give you a damn good kick in your non existant balls.

This month has been horrible. (And unfortunate) In a few years time when I am over the heart wrenching pain that is my May, I will pretend this month never happened. Other monstrous occurances are that my landlady did a surpise visit to my house when she knew I was away. Of course, I had not tidied up, and the black holes in the fireplace and missing blind in the kitchen caused some concern. After recieving a few threatening calls, I decided to cut my losses and leave the property. I'm now residing at my mums where I can nurse myself back to my usual frolicking self. Unfortunately, I owe a months rent. As I have suggested, the landlady can take the deposit which she illegally kept herself and accept it as rent. She suggested that she take me to court.

Whippeeeee I say!

The most unfortunate of all is that after a stressful couple of months, I was on holiday when this all kicked off. Fan-tas-tic. Therefore my only holiday this year; a weekend in Cambridge, was pretty much ruined. I still had a jolly marvellous time and came back feeling refreshed, but things are bloody hard at the moment and I can't really see the end of the tunnel. It's there, and I'm aware that in a month or so I will be skipping around and free, but right now it feels as if I'm walking through sludge carrying Pavoroti on my back.

On a plus note; I have been spurred on to buy a new fish tank for my lovelies, tame my frizzy, god awful hair, sort out my bad boy eyebrows, and get my nose pierced. The hair do and eyebrows will be happening soon, the nose has been banned by my mother until I have exited her residence. (She is horrified at the thought of all the imaginary goop and blood and pus that occures after such a gigantic procedure.) Living with my parents is actually lovely and just what I needed. I feel very looked after and spoilt and am very grateful to them for their support.

All in all, I can't wait for the end of May. Whether you will be hearing much of me in the meantime is dubious, but I will be back as my usual self, I promise.

Of birthdays, bees and Brand.

So, I won a poetry competition the other night. What was even better, was that due to my winning, I got to dress up as a bumble bee and lead a procession of other bumble bee costume wearers, presumably all of whom were also competition winners.
Unfortunately, during our fantastic festival, an extremely pregnant Russell Brand decided to attack both the audience and precession participants. It all ended in everyone hiding in the woods, (I had somehow lost the costume which is a damn shame) shooting at him in what appeared to be World War 3. Odd really.

Last Friday was my birthday. Not just any birthday. It was my 21st. I am not officially 21. As always, I don't feel any older, but the amount of people who have been commenting on this fact, I feel I should feel responsible and old.

Sadly, my 21st was not as I had hoped. Since around Christmas, I had been planning a 99 red balloon party (copying that of the one in Scrubs, only with more balloons) with jelly, and ice cream and costumes. However, most of my friends are at Uni, or hate me. So that meant no party.

On top of which, my sister had a car crash (which thank fully ended in no injury on her part, aside from her poor car, so I can moan) it rained aaaallllll day, and ended in me having a shouting match (quite unlike me) with an extremely racist drunk man who proclaimed that all immigrants should be sterilised. After walking up to him and calling him a not very nice name (again, totally unlike me, and cowardly done, just as the bus pulled into my stop) he stood up and called me:

a fat cunt.

Boy, was my birthday good.

To my delight however, the day was saved by a rather heroic mr peas who supplied me with lots of lovely presents, including a fluffy plastic tiara and a big 21 badge. (Which, presumably the ignorant sod on the bus failed to notice.) He also bought me:

• a plaster animal making kit thing
• a plaster paint your own mask kit thing
• Coraline in a graphic novel (amazing incidentally)
• a bag of drumsticks
• a bag of vimto lollies
• a bag of egg jellies
• a bag of flying saucers
• a pretty, pink, glittery address book and note pad
  and a tiara.

To go into the Coraline book in more detail, we saw Coraline on Wednesday in 3D, and it is now in my top 5 films. I want to name my child (regardless of gender or existence), Coraline. The graphic novel is equally stupendous and looks like this:























FAB.

Also, I discovered, after years of falsely thinking that drumsticks are rhubarb and cream flavoured- they are actually raspberry and milk flavour. I kid you not.

Ode to a new fish

After the death of poor William, I decided the tank needed a sprucing, so yesterday, despite feeling a tad hungover, Mr Peas and I trekked to the nearest decent pet store.

Inevitably, I fell in love with a fish.

He is a beautiful black moor and has hillarious bulging eyes and a stunning bronze tint.

(This is not actually him. He's not photogenic enough but this one seems to be.)

Hubert loves him too, which is good news. I also bought a filter and some new shiny plants. Despite Mr Peas protests, I put them next to the tele. It means the TV is now apt to cutting out or going crazy, but they look pretty :)

The unfortunate truth is that we have no name for Mr anonymous-bulgy-eye fish. After considering Hank, Milky, Bob, or a very rude word for a person with dark skin (Mr Peas.) At the moment, Brains is looking like a particulary fab name, but then I'd like to change Hubert's name to Pinky. Ahhh, the dilemma!

Any ideas?

Ode to a fish

Today, William, my beloved fish, died.

He was fine when I came home in the afternoon, but shortly before I left he kicked his watery bucket. I've been in mourning all day.

Due to a lack of time to bury him, he now resides on my coffee table, in an Old El Paso jar with a cardboard gravestone, senstively engraved by mr peas with:

Here Lies William Bean
He was a beloved husband, pet and amazing lover. RIP. (And a picture of a dead fish.)

I think we will either bury him, or cast him into a watery grave in the canal if it's a nice day and we can be bothered to walk that far.

But here's to Will, and to a fantastic future frolicking in fish fairyland.

Of ball bags, busy-ness and bullying fish.

ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!

An apt way to start a long over due blog.
Firstly, my lack of blogging is not due to a lack of creativity. Far from it; in fact, I have found myself in desperate need of creative output and longing for the little orange B box that seems to rotate slowly in my head and taunt me.

The grounds (the large s emphasising how busy I have been, just in case you didn't pick up on that subtlty) for my absence are as follows:

• My Uni interview. (Went exceptionally well. Still felt like projectile vomiting over the interviwer, but managed to restrain my gag reflex. Loved the Uni, hated Crewe. It seemed as though everyone in Crewe also hated it. Odd really.)



• Work. (My boss has wonderfully flown to Kenya for a month for his studies, leaving me in charge. I am practically bald and now have the appearance of Gollum. Nice responsibility, but a lot of it!)



• Pond digging. (For my parents. Payment in lasagne.)



• Competition Winning. (Just for bragging purposes only.)

The competition must be mentioned in more detail, purely for reader amusement. Mr Peas is not from Leicester originally, so being the lovely lady I am, for our first few dates, it was my intention to introduce him to the loveliness that is our city. One of the must see places is the City Gallery and when we visited, they were running a fabulous bag exhibition by one Jo Cope. http://www.jocope.com/ The competition entailed of designing your own bag, as if the concept of a "bag" was new to you. Being the sensible half of our whole, I designed a bag that would be worn through one's ears. Mr Peas thought it would be amusing to design his so called "Ball Bag"; a rather freakish contraption to be worn looped around a man's genatalia. He also thought it would be funny to write my name on the design, in order to embarrass me.

Unfortunately for him, I won.

HA HA!!

I have not, of course, rubbed his face in it.

(Just bear with me whilst I make some more "HA HA" iced cup cakes.)

I'm not one hundred percent certain as to what I win, but the irony is so delicious, it almost beats these delcious decorated morsels.

Finally, Hubert and William, my fantastic fish, have been trying to commit suicide. Unfortunately for them, their magnificent leaps out of the water just end in a painful sounding splat as they hit the lid and plummet back under the surface. But understandably, I am worried. My father has suggested a pump for them, and I have tried lowering the water, but now Hubert is terrorising William. Mr Peas seems pleased by this latest development (Partly because he is sadist, but mainly because he thinks Hubert and his Rimmer like H on his side is far cooler than William.) Does anyone know what I can do, aside from cattle prodding Hubert, to stop him from bullying poor Will? All ideas welcome! (And if you are reading this before I get home, photos of my fish children will be posted later, however I do not have any on my work computer :D )

I believe that is all for now. You are currently updated on the last few days. Wierdly, the events that seemed so crazy actually seem quite small in this tiny post. I failed to mention the flood, the car accident (not mine.) and the long walk home yesterday but there's another time for that.