I have napped and I am now in the process of making a lemon slice. My freaking font has also changed and I can’t get it back and my pointer pad thingy is sticky from the sweetened condensed milk. The aforementioned napping has also made my newly coiffured hair look like this.

PS: The lemon slice was fanfreakingtastic. I replaced the lemon in the icing with passion fruit pulp just to mix things up a bit.

I have been doing two things consistently these school holidays. Napping and exercising.  I was meant to write more of my book but I am scared of it at the moment, and the garden is still full of weeds and did I learn how to use the video camera I got for Christmas properly? Nup.

This morning I told myself: ‘Okay Bee. No nap for you today.’ I decided this because I had quite a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night, snoring husband notwithstanding. Thing is, what do I do instead of nap? A whole 2 extra hours of consciousness! (I don’t go for this power-napping bull and I certainly don’t do the couch. In bed all the way baby! )

I was thinking I could make the lemon slice I was planning on doing Sunday. (Cos I certainly ain’t gonna tackle the book, weed, wash the dishes, make the bed or bring the washing in) Cept then I would have to taste test it (I was gonna let the Dads do that on Sunday when they come over for a BBQ)

See? SEE? This is why I nap. Less time to bloody stuff my face.

I was thinking today, as I lunched with my Beloved, that my family would make a great novel. They aren’t particularly crazy or flamboyant. They would just make a great character study. The in-laws too. Thing is,  me writing a book about them would actually say more about me. Meaningful eh?

(I got it from an episode of The Simpsons.)

And anyway - I’d have to wait till they were at least too feeble to sue me before I wrote it, and at this rate my always-dying-of-something mother is gonna live to 100.

You know what? There is nothing like the reformation of a beloved boy band to make you realise what you haven’t done with your life.

As you would know New Kids on the Block were/are much loved by myself and they have reunited.  I am loving their new album, The Block. On first listen I was a bit sceptical but now all the love is back and the CD is in constant rotation in my car. (As I mentioned before, it was the blatant sexuality that creeped me out. And then I thought ‘Hang on! I am not 11 anymore. It is okay. Yay for sex!’)

I think there is a bit of a coincidence with NKOTB and their wiley break-up and make-up ways. The year they broke up was when I fell in love for the first time. I mean, fell in love with a person that was real not a 2D image all over my wall. I had someone to replace my infatuation with. I got to test out all my love and affection on someone who would actually return it, and it was nice.

Fast forward 14 years.  I am now a married lady of just over 6 months and NKOTB have returned to my heart to toy with my emotions.  Having them back on the scene is a once worn perfume taking me back in time. Hearing their voices, watching them slightly compulsively on YouTube….I am  13 again - the heady emotions, the angst.  And the sexy songs!  It doesn’t help that I have might as well be 13 and a born-again virgin after 9 and a bit years of happy coupledom.

When you are 13, you realise it is mega-skanky to lust after someone who is 8 years your senior. So in your little daydreams you would meet up with a Mr Knight, McIntyre or Wahlberg  when you were a respectable……20 or so. Now. My problem is this. When you are 13, your older self is successful, thin, hot, educated and rich. Someone a New Kid on the Block might take a second glance at. So to be 30 and be someone a New Kid might ask to tutor their kid in English at most, is depressing.  Where is my hotness?  My money?  My success? I got the education but meh, give me the HOTNESS!!!

Oh well. I have a lovely Beloved, a nice house, a comfortable life and an adored dog……but I might just go and brush up on my English tutoring

I have a theory. At the shops they have been trying to get us to use those environmentally friendly shopping bags. I have been meaning to but haven’t got around to it. And plastic bags are quite handy in our household. We don’t have a rubbish bin, I find they get too feral. So what we do is just have a shopping bag hanging off the pantry door which we chuck in the outside bin as required.

In the last month I have noticed a trend. Nearly every second bag I go to use as a bin has a hole in it. And THEN last Monday as I hoisted a bag from shopping trolley to car the bottom fell out and there went a jar of red curry paste. Grrrr.

So what I am thinking is that it is a conspiracy. They are making the plastic bags crappy, rendering them unusable as bins….and as actual shopping bags mind you. And then we have to go and buy the environmentally friendly ones.

It is devious I tell you, devious. And I am on to them. (Yeah, you go ferocious Bee. What will you do? I’ll tell you. You will buy the friendly green bags….and then buy proper bin bags. Way to show those corporate bastards)

Things overheard and conversations I had in half an hour of lunch duty:

      ‘Miss, why aren’t you our tutorial teacher anymore? Mr X is alright but we have him and someone else and she is old and has no fashion sense and a toe missing on her right foot. And you were young and pretty and had fashion sense and have all your toes.’

      ‘Miss, where’s my ice-cream?’ asks Bob. I shrug my shoulders, in an I-don’t-know gesture, while stuffing my face. ‘F#*k you Miss!’ says Bob,hiding quickly behind a brick wall.

 After giving Bill a dirty look cos he was walking around with his hand down his pants, he tells me by way of explanation: ‘Miss - my balls were stuck to my leg!’

Random girl to random boy in corridor: ‘Tim, when you pushed me you touched my boob you retard.’

 Yup. All in a days work.

The following emails were sent to my sis and pals whilst we were honeymooning in Europe. Abbreviations and spelling errors have been left in for authenticity…and cos it is a public holiday and I can’t be arsed editing.

Heya Sis,

How r u? We r gr8. I am emailing from Beloved’s  blackberry. We r in Holland at moment and just went to this huge, beautiful garden with heaps of tulips - kicks Araluen’s arse!

Yesterday we were in Brussels. Sooo beautiful. And omg - the shopping. U and Stinky would love it!

London was gr8 too. Very busy but heaps of shops and pubs and historical stuff. We caught up w Chris and his new girl Nikki who is lovely. They took us to a comedy show which was so cool - it was in part of a tunnel which was converted into a nite-club.

N e hoo, better go. U can email me on this address if u like - and fwd it onto the girls - they can Bee-mail me too- it will be free for me to reply cos Beloved’s work is paying his fone bill but be warned the nosey bugger will prob read it b4 I do (luv u husband!)

Lotsa luv 2 all,

Bee and Beloved xoxo

Switzerland

Hi everyone!

We r in Heidi country at the moment - the Swiss alps. It us like nothing I have ever seen . . . Except in Heidi huge mountains covered in snow. Our hotel was built in 1901 and is very charming. We r in it 4 two nights.

Yesterday was awesome - in Germany us deprived Aussies finally saw snow. At a hotel in the mountains called Hofgut Sternen it was lightly falling. It wasn’t too cold and it feels like when u scrape ice off the freezer!

Ooh, gotta go - going on cable car

Mwah to all

Bee and Beloved xo

 Austria Today

 Heya everyone!

Lots of excitement yesterday. We went up a mountain called the Stanserhorn via cable car which was bloody scary. We went through clouds to get to the top to a glorious blue sky and warm sun and mountains. Waaaay down below u could see tiny houses. At the top was a restaurant and viewing platforms all around. There was also a huge pile of snow which had been gathered up so it wasn’t blocking the paths. So a few of us had to stand on it. In the photos it looks like we r standing on a mountain 4 real. . . Other than the fact that we actually were but u no wat I mean!

We went into Lucerne (or Luzern) which is a small city on Lake Luzern. We had lunch at a Swiss restaurant. They played traditional ‘instruments’ such as a broomstick, cowbells, a saw, and bottles. They even got ppl on stage to blow these huge horns. I got picked but wussed out. It was only a coincidence that Beloved went to the loo when they started picking ppl out to yodel. It could have been the two 7 franc (bout ten buck) pepsis he had with our lunch of cheese fondue and bratwurst.

We had a cruise on the lake which was great. It was up to 130 metres deep in places.

That nite we were in bed by 8:30 after all the fresh mountain air.

Today we r in Austria, where we are going on a carriage ride. I am emailing while we go thru a very long tunnel on the bus.

Bee mail again soon,

Bee and Beloved

 Italy

 Heya everyone!

We r leaving Venice today. It was pretty cool. When we first got there it just rained and rained so we just got an overall feeling of dampness. But I did have a look in the Gucci, Prada, Valentino, Ferragamo etc windows. Too chickenshit and touristy/bedraggled looking to go in.

For lunch we went to a gorgeous island called Burano which has all these brightly painted houses. I kept taking pics of the pink ones for Stinky! We also had a yum seafood lunch there.

We went back to the main island for a gondola ride. That was awesome. Beloved and I went on one with another couple. All of us got a bottle of champagne but our boat also got an accordion player and a singer! It was so cool and every time we went under a bridge there would be heaps of people taking pictures and videoing it. We felt famous. And luckily by then it had stopped raining.

Today we r heading to Assisi. I have been a liiiitle bit sick, just a cold. And omg, u should see this traffic we r in. Italians r freaking crazy drivers. They turn 3 lane hwys into 6 and will squeeze through anywhere!

Will bee-mail again soon.

Bee and Beloved xoxxo

Ps: there r so many sausage dogs in Europe. Beloved said I can maybe get one, so can someone google poodle daschund cross so I can get a jump on my research, lol? Hmm would that be called a daschoodle? his name will be Chip. . . Short for Chipolata.

Leaving Rome

 Hi everyone!

Well, we r leaving Rome today. It was different. So much culture and history but also very bloody filthy! I mean Perth may be a culturally shallow backwater but it is a clean one and we don’t drive like maniacs! We did the Vatican City, colosseum, pantheon and some catacombs. Again, all Italians r so well dressed.

A couple of days b4 we went to the island of Capri which was lovely. A few times I thought I might die though. They have one lane roads up the sides of these sheer cliffs and the bus drivers don’t drive slowly. It has lovely winding streets with little gorgeous houses, shops and restaurants and it looks all tropical-ish or rather more mediterranean-ish with bright flowers and foliage everywhere. It would be a great place for a few days relaxation. (Especially with all the couture shops) When there we went to the top of the highest point on a chair lift and we actually went through clouds - they were cold!

Today we r heading to Florence for one night and then we will be heading to France. Can u believe I haven’t bought n e thing yet except lil gifts for the family? Crazy!

Beloved’s back has mostly been ok. He did have a couple of bad hobbly days and knock on wood he hasn’t been sick . . . ironically it is my turn to be sick - just coughing up a lung or two

Man these Italian roads r bumpy. We have also had lots of good wines and pasta so don’t be surprised if I am a bit poombah-ish when we get back

Lotsa luv,

Bee and Beloved xo

 Nice is Nice

Hi everyone!

Hope u are all doing well.

We r on our way to Paris today to see the Eiffel tower and go to a show at the Moulin Rouge. Beloved is pleased to be in France. A much higher percentage of good looking girls he reckons.

Last nite we were in a town called Beaune which is in the wine making region so we had a gr8 bottle of red with dinner.

The 2 nights before that we were in Nice which I really liked. I went ‘posh shopping’ but disappointingly didn’t find n e thing that really tickled me. Although earlier in the day we went to a hilltop village called St Paul du Vance where I managed to harass a westie tied up at the front of an art shop. Got the pics too. Beloved also bought me a bunch of 20 pink roses which gave him mega brownie points with all the ladies on the bus (and me too!) And probably the housekeeper at the hotel where we left em. On the last night there a few of us went up to the sundeck of the hotel to look at the view and have red wine and pizza - best pizza we had was in France.

And it goes with out saying that as well as documenting the dogs of Europe I am also paying close attention to the ice-cream. Went to the supposedly best gelato shop in Italy which was in Florence. Not bad. But to me it is all good!

It has been a great trip and I can’t believe it is nearly over. We have made some cool friends. Supposedly we r gonna visit all of them

N e hoo. Would love to hear from u on Beloved’s email address. We will back on May 11. I hope we can handle the reality

Bee and Beloved xo

I don’t wanna spoil anyone’s illusions nor admit to being a statistic, but by the time we got back to our hotel room I felt absolutely rat-chewed. I was so tired I could have thrown up, my head was gonna fall off, my feet hated me and boy, did I need to wee. Beloved got me out of the dress pretty damn fast - not out of lust but so I didn’t soil the carpet of the fancy hotel room. I had the nicest, longest shower and fell into bed, head whirling with so many lovely memories, body numb with tiredness. I felt a lot better in the morning but you don’t need any of those details.

The day was suitably lazy, with room service and lots of naps. We were on the top floor of the hotel which had views to Kings Park. While gazing off the balcony I saw my car reflected in the building next door. I also saw that it had been festooned with streamers - the handy work of two of the groomsmen, the lil buggers.

We even got a free massage….which was nice, but I hate being a novice of posh hotels and shit, especially when it involves you getting half naked in front of a stranger.

Leaving the hotel was quite amusing, at our late check-out of 4pm. It was funny enough seeing the Sven-like doorman pulling up at the front of our hotel in my lil red beast, but was even funnier with the streamers trailing out behind. When he opened the doors all these balloons and confetti fell out and I found Passion Pop, condoms, a pregnancy-test, massage oil and a glow-in-the-dark tube of lube thoughtfully placed on the passenger seat. So we are all chasing balloons at the front of the hotel, not wanting them to ruin the ambiance and while I lent on the bonnet to pull the streamers off the windscreen wipers we quickly found that Sven has not put on the hand-brake.

We had such a magical, surreal 2 days but it was sorta nice to be going home, to our doggy and a lot less excitement. We came home to our whole-bum-waggling Airedale and a mother-in-law who can’t not hum, sing, whistle or talk, lotsa envelopes full of Flight Centre vouchers, more than half a wedding cake and flowers everywhere.

To everyone involved as family, friends and bridal party - we had the best time ever and it was all because of you, so, thanks! I will let you know when the novelty of calling each other ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ wears off. Although I could guess that could happen sometime on the 4 week honeymoon when we spend 24/7 together, touring Europe. Oh, think of the name-calling domestics we could have and the posts I may get out of it!!

AKA: We SO Played ‘Ice Ice Baby’

Smiling hurts. Not until you do it for a few hours straight do you realise this. And by the time we had some gorgeous photos at Araluen and King Street in Perth I was over smiling. I was a bit perturbed at some pics I KNEW would be awful cos I was slouching in them until Miss Model told me to straighten up and I was spewing cos I had kept telling myself to stand up straight and after she said it I saw myself in a window reflection and was all ‘Argh- Princess Tubbyguts!’ and you’d think the photographer would have told me to suck it in. By then my dress was bloody filthy and a fierce headache was approaching. I was happy to note that my dress was nicer than another bride who happened along King Street for some photos. We also bumped into a lady from my work which was a bit random.

At the hotel Stinky and NC got busted for dress-treading. I think my lil sis was rather pleased with herself because she hadn’t done it and she is always getting in trouble for despoiling my tablecloths and leaving toothpaste in my bathroom sink. Although, she did get a bit growled at because she forgot how to bustle the bloody dress; but by then I had ripped a huuuuge whole in the tulle, lost a significant amount of beads and popped some stitches so I was all ‘meh’.

The reception was bloody lovely. A warm Perth night on the Swan River, with the restaurant open to the balmy winds. The sun was setting, the birds of Kings Park carrying on behind us and the lights of the city sky-line -twinkling. It was perfect.

The food was delicious and I was determined to eat as much as possible. My head was pounding and I could hardly sit down but I could have eaten the crotch of a low-flying duck. Speaking of crotches/crutches - my  broken legged cuz was doing an awesome job of MC, with his attention grabber being ‘Look at my crutch’.

I thought everyone gave amazing, heartfelt speeches. However I felt a bit shy that I had an over-representation which may have come across as a bit indulgent. I managed to keep it together through most speeches. I was a bit teary through laughing at my sisters….and then when I looked over at Stinky who was having a good ole sob-fest, I  lost it too. I was blown away with her speech.  It was fantastic and I couldn’t have been prouder of my lil sis. Now the pressure is on for me at her wedding, dammit. My husband didn’t do a bad job of his speech either, having written his the night before, the cheeky bugger.

I tried to mingle with a few people but it was impossible to get to them all. I did make an effort to talk to my ex work-colleague. He turned up all by himself, not knowing a soul and I reckon that takes real guts.  

By nine o’clock I seriously could have gone home. I was that tired and my head was killing me. I was annoyed at this feeling cos this was one of the most important, long-awaited days of my life! But after the bridal waltz I was feeling a bit better. (I might have even closed my eyes and had a mini-nap during!)

We had planned to play a few games but time had flown by so we didn’t get the chance. I was quite happy to keep my garter concealed, and only had to throw the bouquet, which my pal from Hip-hop caught. She was so excited: ‘This is the first wedding I have been to without my parents and they haven’t had to tell me to shut up and oh-my-god I caught the flowers- yay!’

 Just before we left I found out that Beloved’s cousins had been propositioning my cousins, as well as a couple of the single groomsmen (in front of my DAD I might add!) I also found out from the ex: ‘Now, Bee, I will tell you before you hear it from someone else. I did try to steal the sword off the wall. But the best man caught me and he is very, very angry. I don’t think he believed my sword swallowing routine excuse. But it is okay - I put it back.’ 

 I reckon Beloved and I made the best exit ever. The DJ was a man after my heart - at the noise-restricted time of 12am he got everyone to make a Guard of Honour and we were through it and outta there (after stopping to kiss various parents) and straight into the waiting limo taxi, where the driver welcomed us with a polite ‘Your taxi, Mr and Mrs Beloved.’

I had the most wonderful day - it went off without a hitch, because of my super-organised husband, my sexy bee-maids and the handsome groomsmen. And while the reality was beautiful I think it is going to be even better in the remembering.

I would say we were fairly on-time, in that we were aiming for 15 minutes late. Except we got a call saying that various boom-gates had been blocked and many of the guests hadn’t arrived and could we slow it down a bit? That stressed me out cos we had a fairly tight schedule already. This was because with a 45 minute drive from the ceremony at Araluen to Perth we would not have a lot of time for photos.

On the drive up I realised something about myself that I had not previously known. When I am nervous, I want to be quiet. I don’t want to talk or be talked to. Of course no-one else knows that so they were probably miffed at some very terse replies. It is weird though, because I didn’t feel particularly nervous. I have felt way worse when going for a job-interview or even starting Boot Camp.

When we pulled up 45 minutes late, my Aunty was waiting with the video camera, telling us that my cousin (who broke his leg at Beloved’s bucks night) had already fallen over, the poor bugger. As we made our way to our starting off point, I admit I spoilt the serenity of the moment by growling at an unsuspecting Bee-maid who accidentally trod on my train. I have now decided it is good luck to have your dress stepped on because, man, I am now one lucky chick. Up on the hill above the grassed amphitheatre we could see everyone waiting, and how beautiful everything looked. In front of the lake, sparkling gold, there was a small white-swathed marquee, under which was a white carpet lined with white chairs. Behind the lake was the stone colonnade and the Roleystone hills. The sky was deep blue, there was enough wind to keep us cool as NC lead us down the gently-ish sloping path and the string quartet started playing ‘The Prayer’.

It is only now that I can truly feel what a lovely moment that split second  before my father and I made our way to different surnames was. As we walked he was counting in his head fast to stop himself from tearing up and I was smiling and having a giggle as my train picked up random sticks and leaves along the path. I glanced at as many faces I could, I was so happy to see every face - each random relative and not oft seen family friend.

 It was difficult not to cry as I faced my Beloved under the altar. He looked so happy and shiny-eyed himself and I couldn’t help giving him a little kiss before it all began. Although with his little mafia scarf on I did wonder if had somehow converted to Judaism.

The ceremony was a blur. I can remember Beloved’s warm hands, the wind rearranging my fringe and me trying so hard not to look like I was obsessively compulsively tucking it back. There was Beloved’s second cousin looking decidedly grumpy, although it could have just been the sun in her eyes, a car alarm going off, some hoons doing a burn-out and my Beloved smelling unfamiliar - probably of massage oil. I remember accidentally saying the first few lines of my vows to the minister, Beloved’s Uncle, instead of to Beloved and both of us nearly fluffing up the same line. I remember Uncle having trouble holding the microphone, the vows and trying to place a hand on ours to bless the marriage. I remember being able to sign my name remarkably well and wondering if I was supposed to have my flowers with me as I walked back up the aisle to receive congratulations. But who cares? I was glad not to hold them - those things weighed a tonne and I was officially married!