Been feeling a bit sorry for myself the last few days. Have had a bit of a cold (probably an early Christmas gift from one of my younger students). Sunday was my 42nd Birthday and we are about to enter The Festive Season. I am not the “Bah Humbug” type; I usually love Christmas, but this year looks like it will be a bit of a dud. My daughters will be spending Christmas with their Dad and his girlfriend; rest of my family are celebrating in The U.K whilst I am stuck here in Spain and last, but not least, I find myself without a boyfriend to share my egg nog with or who could pull my Christmas cracker!!
I have mentioned before that I am a believer in all things magical- fairies, Father Christmas, The Easter Bunny etc. But just recently I have been having my doubts about Cupid!
Stupid Cupid.
Looks can be so deceiving. There he is curly blonde hair, angelic style wings, cute cherub face, and innocent smile. He flits about hither and thither; he takes aim; fires his cutesy little bow and flits off somewhere else- leaving a trail of destruction and despair. I think he needs to go back to Cherub School and get some target practice. Can he really have such bad judgment and aim? Or…….does he inflict love on people to be deliberately cruel and nasty? I reckon Cupid has a lot to answer for- as an ethereal being he creates more havoc and angst than if The Greek Gods, The Grim Reaper and Mr. Plague got together and decided to have a “bit of fun” with us mere mortals.
So Stupid Cupid what did we ever do to you. From the minute hormones start careering around our pubescent bodies, this arrow, wielding midget makes our lives hell. He fills our lives with agonising, obsessive, crushes:-
The crushes; The Impossible- the local Love God or Goddess; The Inappropriate- the Biology teacher, one of your parents friends or someone of the same sex as you; The Forbidden Fruit- your best friends boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife; The Street Cred No No- you are besotted with the person know as “The Geek” or “The Loser”. Once you have a crush, you transform from, the intelligent, sensible, sociable and witty you, into a gawky weirdo.
You lose the ability to communicate sensibly. There you are having a perfectly great conversation with your friends and the object of your desire joins the group. Result-you start to babble like an idiot with a speech impediment; you laugh like a hyena at his/her every word; you try to sound cool and knowledgeable “I love Nirvana too- I can’t wait for Kurt to finish writing his next album!” or “ Can you believe Tiger Woods got another duckie in The Americas Cup?!” The icing on the cake- whilst you are braying like a horse at something He/She has said, that piece of spinach that has been on your teeth since lunchtime, dislodges itself and makes a beeline for Crushs` top lip.
Every movement you make is over exaggerated and clumsy. You emerge from the toilets and see your crush walking towards you; suddenly you can not walk in a straight line! As you weave your way towards him, you start to flick your hair, batter your eyelashes and grin insanely at him/her-this combination plays havoc with your senses of balance and vision and you end up stumbling into something or someone. It is only when you have picked yourself up off the floor, acting like nothing has happened, that you realise that you have tucked your skirt into the back of your tights or you left your trousers undone.
When Cupid picks on you, you not only transform into a gawky weirdo, you transform into an insane, gawky, weirdo. Those under the influence of an impossible crush behave, to say the least, bizarrely. Watching the phone, willing it to ring; writing his or her name in silly little hearts; writing your name in silly, little hearts, but your surname is different- it- is the one you will have when you marry your crush; having imaginary conversations with your crush whilst looking in the mirror. These conversations are usually, him/her asking you out or him/her declaring undying love to you. You change your route home, just to walk near their house (those 3 extra miles a day are good exercise-no?) You spend hours getting ready; just incase. If Crush looks at you, you are as high as a kite. If Crush doesn’t look at you, you are suicidal. Everything you see; say; hear is Crush related. My personal favourite- and something I still do- is personal dares, for example, if I make it across the sitting room in 10 steps exactly, he will call me.; if I kiss the tyres on my car, he will love me forever (not proud of this one and it didn’t work!).
In the end you are a wreck- you can’t sleep; you can’t eat (or you can’t stop your self eating) and you can’t concentrate. Your friends tire of you and stop inviting you places, because you keep making a spectacle of yourself. Then along comes that bastard Cupid again and makes your Crush fall in love with your best friend. You better watch out Cupid- if I ever get hold of you, I am going to pull out every blond hair on your cute, cherub head; I am going to pluck off your wings-slowly and painfully and I am going to ram your cutesy bow and arrow up your angelic little ass.
I have mentioned before that I am a believer in all things magical- fairies, Father Christmas, The Easter Bunny etc. But just recently I have been having my doubts about Cupid!
Stupid Cupid.
Looks can be so deceiving. There he is curly blonde hair, angelic style wings, cute cherub face, and innocent smile. He flits about hither and thither; he takes aim; fires his cutesy little bow and flits off somewhere else- leaving a trail of destruction and despair. I think he needs to go back to Cherub School and get some target practice. Can he really have such bad judgment and aim? Or…….does he inflict love on people to be deliberately cruel and nasty? I reckon Cupid has a lot to answer for- as an ethereal being he creates more havoc and angst than if The Greek Gods, The Grim Reaper and Mr. Plague got together and decided to have a “bit of fun” with us mere mortals.
So Stupid Cupid what did we ever do to you. From the minute hormones start careering around our pubescent bodies, this arrow, wielding midget makes our lives hell. He fills our lives with agonising, obsessive, crushes:-
The crushes; The Impossible- the local Love God or Goddess; The Inappropriate- the Biology teacher, one of your parents friends or someone of the same sex as you; The Forbidden Fruit- your best friends boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife; The Street Cred No No- you are besotted with the person know as “The Geek” or “The Loser”. Once you have a crush, you transform from, the intelligent, sensible, sociable and witty you, into a gawky weirdo.
You lose the ability to communicate sensibly. There you are having a perfectly great conversation with your friends and the object of your desire joins the group. Result-you start to babble like an idiot with a speech impediment; you laugh like a hyena at his/her every word; you try to sound cool and knowledgeable “I love Nirvana too- I can’t wait for Kurt to finish writing his next album!” or “ Can you believe Tiger Woods got another duckie in The Americas Cup?!” The icing on the cake- whilst you are braying like a horse at something He/She has said, that piece of spinach that has been on your teeth since lunchtime, dislodges itself and makes a beeline for Crushs` top lip.
Every movement you make is over exaggerated and clumsy. You emerge from the toilets and see your crush walking towards you; suddenly you can not walk in a straight line! As you weave your way towards him, you start to flick your hair, batter your eyelashes and grin insanely at him/her-this combination plays havoc with your senses of balance and vision and you end up stumbling into something or someone. It is only when you have picked yourself up off the floor, acting like nothing has happened, that you realise that you have tucked your skirt into the back of your tights or you left your trousers undone.
When Cupid picks on you, you not only transform into a gawky weirdo, you transform into an insane, gawky, weirdo. Those under the influence of an impossible crush behave, to say the least, bizarrely. Watching the phone, willing it to ring; writing his or her name in silly little hearts; writing your name in silly, little hearts, but your surname is different- it- is the one you will have when you marry your crush; having imaginary conversations with your crush whilst looking in the mirror. These conversations are usually, him/her asking you out or him/her declaring undying love to you. You change your route home, just to walk near their house (those 3 extra miles a day are good exercise-no?) You spend hours getting ready; just incase. If Crush looks at you, you are as high as a kite. If Crush doesn’t look at you, you are suicidal. Everything you see; say; hear is Crush related. My personal favourite- and something I still do- is personal dares, for example, if I make it across the sitting room in 10 steps exactly, he will call me.; if I kiss the tyres on my car, he will love me forever (not proud of this one and it didn’t work!).
In the end you are a wreck- you can’t sleep; you can’t eat (or you can’t stop your self eating) and you can’t concentrate. Your friends tire of you and stop inviting you places, because you keep making a spectacle of yourself. Then along comes that bastard Cupid again and makes your Crush fall in love with your best friend. You better watch out Cupid- if I ever get hold of you, I am going to pull out every blond hair on your cute, cherub head; I am going to pluck off your wings-slowly and painfully and I am going to ram your cutesy bow and arrow up your angelic little ass.
Sad post :(
ReplyDeleteWell, why not jump in the car and join the family? Or bag a train?
Or - one of my friends who recently split up with her husband now spends each Xmas day with the Salvation Army, serving homeless people - and she has a ball. Do they have that in Spain?
Kissing the tires of your car? Really? How exactly was that supposed to work? It's just not scientific, unlike, say, avoiding the cracks in the pavement which is directly related to the situation...Hmmm, yes. Go ahead. Kiss your tires. Couldn't hurt.
ReplyDeleteHope Xmas day is bearable and celebrate it in style when your girls get home.
Kate, there's a Xmas song contest at
ReplyDeletehttp://www.pajamasandcoffee.com/
You should enter your Santa baby!
All OK? Haven't heard from you in a while