I Never Expected a Pork Pie……..

As a committed glass slipper wearer I have no idea how to break through glass ceilings. Although chucking my heels at them would be the option I would consider first. The current spate of stone throwers, who reside in glass houses, clearly think they are more evolved than I am, so good luck.

And so we come back yet again to be or not be a feminist.  And whether I am merely too weak and wishy washy to stand up for myself. Is not being a feminist at this point in my life just a cover up for being needy? I am very flexible, I was bought up to be a people pleasing good girl. I want to be loved and will go out of my way to say yes. It doesn’t make me feel that much of a pushover because I have learnt who trades on that and weaned them from my life.

Update on living arrangements; the Ex is gone. He huffed out when I mentioned contributing to the household expenses or maybe buying a bottle of wine by way of recompense. Apparently this wasn’t extending the hand of friendship. No it was allowing him to behave as he had done previously whilst I behaved like the wife I had always been. That was part of the original problem. Once the health-scare was resolved it was only a matter of time before my patience with him dosing in my spareroom became an issue. Towards the end of our marriage he actually said he liked me being assertive with everyone else but preferred it if I could remain a doormat for him.

But the calm was not to last as it is Exam time and stress levels are high. Teenage Daughter is having (quote) an existential crisis. I blame Philosophy. It is not a subject to teach teenagers; they have brains that are tuned to negative dramas without being encouraged to legitimise their angst. One minute they are upset because they don’t have the right brand of hair straighteners, then they are questioning their very existence and quoting Nietzsche. I oscillate between calm, controlled, advice on how to timetable revision to screaming at her to get off facebook and do some work. Mostly I just feel guilty that family catastrophes, namely the way her father and I have behaved, has taken its toll on her emotional resilience. I fear lower than predicted grades will require re-sits than none of us have the energy for.

The Older One is about to sit her finals. Three years gone by in a flash. She left for Uni the week after her father gathered his belongings into black bin bags. Needless to say her first term was not as much fun as it could have been. Thank God for student therapy services as I wasn’t much use to her at the time. I am looking forward to having her back so I can reacquaint myself with the new girl she has become.

The New Man produced a ring this weekend – I had to eat a pork pie to retrieve it from the box so it was doubly exciting. I never expected a pork pie tied in tiffany ribbon.  And his sartorial elegance took a surprising turn when he discovered that H&M is not just for skinny young boys. The excitement in the changing room was at squealing level compounded at the till when he realised his bright new things all cost the price of one pair of trousers at M&S. I also introduced him to the delights of a tumbler of iced Rose rather than a Pint to quench thirst; we even discussed the possibility of a diet to deal with the tummy. So all in all a very nice weekend as viewed through pink champagne glasses and wearing my best glass slippers.