Waxing is the new paint

Have I mentioned this before, waxing has the same problems as painting? I do my hands, feet, knees and underarms, and then I don’t want to stop; it’s so addictive. My legs are naff, as I’ve been banned from doing them anymore, but so much hair has stopped growing completely, that the few patches left are – well, naff. Even Jay thinks they’re naff. The vee in my chest is kept short by plucking them as hairs reappear; that’s one area that hasn’t been banned yet, although Jay keeps a close eye on it, so it doesn’t expand – LoL.

I tend do things on the spur of the moment, as I’m not brave enough to plan rebellion in advance, and every so often I’ll wax the legs anyway. Jay thinks I shave my knees and legs, so I haven’t told her otherwise. My dream Xmas present would be a body wax – fat chance of that.

We are off to Cornwall soon, and we’ll have a super time, as we always do when we’re doing things together, it’s just that there’s a bit of togetherness missing in this important area. As usual, I’ll have a collection of girlie stuff, which I can’t possibly wear or use, but having them near me, feels like a normal thing, like normal girls would have, and makes me feel normal too – LoL.

I had an email from a girl, who I’ll call Andrea, as that’s one of my favourite aliases, asking about a family photo on the Bob Flickr site. I passed her on to my sis-in-law who is the family genealogist. S-i-L tracked down the missing link, which pleased her no end. She had trouble to begin with, until this lass mentioned a pub her granddad owned or ran, and success quickly followed. S-i-L rang for a chat today, and told us about her successful work. It appears Andrea was born male, and has changed gender, and it seems this is a first for the family tree – LoL. Andrea and S-i-L had a giggle, as before long Andrea can have all previous male stuff removed from her history – ‘That’ll mess up things for future genealogists’ she said.

Tafarn Ty Gwyn


A pub in the village near the Menai Straits. Lannfairpwllhwyngyll has three pubs, two Chinese takeaways, a fish and chip shop, and Pringles which has a nice self service restaurant. We’re not going starve here.

A Transistor radio in the hand

We were sitting around the dinner table, having had a delicious roast lamb cooked by Jay. We had some GUKs (grown up kids), their partners and my niece-in-law and her partner, and we were reminiscing about our teens. Jay said that she used to visit my mum every evening with her trannie in her hand. Transistor radios were called trannies in the 1950s, the latest invention, and Jay, working as a nanny to our neighbours, (we lived on the country, and our nearest neighbours were a couple of hundred yards away), had used her wages to buy one.

Everyone burst into peals of laughter, and made fun of Jay. Me, I just smiled, thinking that she still has a trannie as we often hold hands and cuddle. I looked across the table and our niece (who is 50 plus and has a figure to die for) was looking straight at me. I’d been throwing in girlie mannerisms, as I try to do anyway, with my long fingernails in view, and I suddenly wondered if she had put two and two together?

I’ll never know most likely. How can we capitalise on these moments? Sadly, never, I guess.

Apple lion shoot

So much for saying how nice my iPhone is, but I upgraded the Mac Lion, and the phone to what ever, 5 something or other, but now the App store doesn’t recognise me, even though I’m using the same name and password. God, I hate you &£@@&£ software writers.

Don’t get me wrong, the phone is brilliant, it’s just Apple being as rubbish as Windows software writers. I won’t use the word developers, because that implies the @&£(:s are intelligent. I would so like to plant an un_ladylike fist into someone’s monitor – actually, that;s just a dream, I don’t like killing bugs and slugs – LoL.