3 posts tagged “wine”

My sister and I have never got on.  Our dysfunctional love-hate relationship began when I was about six, and she stopped being a new 'doll' to play with, as she grew into the hair-pulling toddler-age.

She's family, she's my baby sister - and I'll stand behind her, I'll fight her fights for her and I'll rip the balls off any man who tries to mess her around.  I love her.  But I don't exactly like her.  And the feeling is absolutely mutual.

Chalk and cheese doesn't even begin to describe us.  My pot-smoking, loud-mouthed tart of a little sister speaks to my parents in ways that I would never even contemplate.  Her 'punk/emo' dress sense and dodgy blonde highlights make me cringe, and her boyfriends are, without fail, intolerable.

She dropped out of college a few weeks before her final exams, and began (after a year of doing absolutely fuck-all) a job working in a dead-end admin job.  Night after night she would (and still does) come home and relay how 'stressful' her job was.  She'd then march down to the pub, come home wasted - and be at least an hour late for work every morning.  How she manages to keep that job, I will never know..  But recently, I've seen a change.

Her tiny plaid mini-skirts, complete with multiple chains and skull keyrings, have been occasionally exchanged for clothing that would be viewed as 'acceptable' for work (i.e. clothing that doesn't scream 'prostitution').  She's very slowly realising that her boyfriend is a waste of space - and while she loves him, that doesn't excuse the fact that he's an arsehole. 

My baby sister seems to be (gradually) growing up.  About time too..

Since the other-half has been away, I have admittedly become reasonably boring.  A year ago, you'd have found me crawling home from clubs at 6am, or dancing on tables with my clan of close male friends.  I had a reputation for being a 'party girl'.  Opening nights for clubs and bars were attended without fail, and I could drink most people under the table. 

And now?  My best friend is suddenly my mother.  I've taken up scrapbooking and I can't remember the last time I went to a decent bar.  I swapped my slutty knee boots and mini skirts for knee-length office attire (with slutty-knee-boots underneath, for good measure).  Somewhere along the line, I got old.  I got mundane

The final kick in the teeth, was a comment my sister made to my mother - which was kindly relayed to me:
        "Don't you think she should make some friends or something?  I mean, she hangs out with you.  That's not normal."

I moved cities under a year ago - and left my friends behind.  I know people here, but I don't really have any desire to spend my free time with them.  I work hard during the week - I don't have time for a social life.  Weekends, I want to relax (and admittedly, cram a bit of work in where I can).  I've swapped cosy nights on the sofa with the other-half, for cosy nights on the sofa with my mum.  Why?

I'm lonely.  It's not that I've swapped the party-girl lifestyle for something second-rate.  I love coming home from work, cooking dinner for the other-half and I - sharing a bath and curling up to watch crap tv all evening.  After spending years sharing each other with our group of friends - we finally have a place of our own, a bit of privacy - and a lot of quality time.  But with him away travelling and my social circle in another city - I'm flying solo.

Quite honestly, I'd much rather spend the weekend with my mum and multiple bottles of good red wine - than spend it in dodgy pubs with people who don't really interest me.  My mum really is my best friend.  We laugh at the same things, we get drunk after two glasses of wine - and we gossip about the old-times and the people we both know.  I never really read anything into that.  Since I moved, all my time has been spent with the other half, or with my family.  That's why I moved.  After years of being away from the people I loved the most - it was time to come 'home' and spend time with the people who really mattered - my family. 

However, I'm not going to pretend that my sister's comment didn't hit me like a smack in the face.  Is it really 'not normal' to want to spend time with my mother instead of whoring it up in bad nightclubs with 'acquaintances'?  The way I spend my free time has changed.  After a week at work - I'm quite simply too knackered to want to do anything but relax and have some 'me' time.

After my mother told me of the 'not normal' comment that my sister made.  I had a brief "oh God, my little sister thinks I'm really boring..." moment.  I concluded that I might be boring, but I wasn't bored.  With the other-half away - I needed company that wasn't false.  I needed my best friend.  My mum.

You can imagine my horror last night - when my sister called me and mumbled, "So uh, what are you doing on Saturday night?"  My sister, who spends her saturday nights with her boyfriend and group of friends, drinking vodka, smoking pot and 'swaying' to noise that quite simply does not pass as music - wanted to know what I was doing Saturday night.

My answer - "Nothing..." - was met with, "Didn't think so.  Do you want to like, uh.. Hang out or something?" 

I almost dropped the phone.  Despite being totally alone in my living room - I raised an eyebrow and replied, "Hang out?  What, me and you?"

My sister told me that she was at a 'loose end' this Saturday.  Her boyfriend was away, her friends were all busy - and she wondered if I would like to 'watch some movies and uh, like, drink some... wine?"

She doesn't drink wine.  She drinks vodka.  Or alcopops (usually with vodka chasers).  She doesn't watch movies - she watches MTV, and she is never under any circumstances at a 'loose end' on a Saturday night.

I was tempted to tell her that I was busy - that I didn't really want to spend a Saturday night sat on my sofa in silence with her.. But I was brought up with manners - and replied, "Sure, that sounds good."

As I hung up the phone, I realised what had just happened.  I was no longer looking out for my baby sister - my baby sister, despise disliking me even more than I did her - was looking out for me.  I had been given the pity vote.  My reward?  Saturday night with Wednesday Adams' twin.

I've spent most of today replaying our short conversation, over and over.  I'm filled with a sense of loyalty and love, suprised that she would even notice that I'm lonely and at a constant 'loose end' without the other-half or the company of my usual group of friends.  On the other hand, I am utterly mortified that my little sister would take pity on my social life - to the point where she would actually feel that she needs to spend time with me.  Utterly. Mortified.

Sure, we love each other.  But quite honestly, we can't stand each other.  More to the point, she can't stand movies or wine.  Rather than tell her to shove her pity vote up her backside - I'm so touched that she'd actually care - that I'm going to spend Saturday night pretending that my other-best-friend, is my little sister.

Her reaction to my cautious reply was laced with false excitement, "Great.  I'll bring my toothbrush.."

So not only will we be spending Saturday night in each other's company - we'll be having a sleepover.  I can't find the words to express how utterly over joyed I am.  Really.   Heh.

God, I hope she brings pot. 

I decided not to make any new year's resolutions..  I only break them, and honestly - I just couldn't be arsed this year.

Then, I had a slightly tipsy conversation with a close friend (CF) this evening..

CF:  "What's your resolution for this year?"

Me:  "To only drink very expensive wine, when you're paying."

CF:  "Seriously, don't you have one?"

Me:  "No, I only break them.  And anyway, I'm fickle and weak-willed when it comes to things like that."

CF:  "You know, my therapist has told me to start writing positive things about myself, in a list.. You should do it too, then when you're semi-drunk and whiny, I can refer you back to your list, instead of having to say 'no sweetheart, you're not a horrible person - and no your tits are not crap.."

Me:  "That's not fair - I console you when you're all whiny and drunk!  Anyway, why would I write a stupid list?  I couldn't even write a list of things."

CF:  "Precisely.  Positive thinking!  My therapist is great, you should take the advice.."

Me:  "You want me to start writing a list of all the good things about myself, because your therapist told you to do it!?  I don't even have a therapist - I don't need to start writing lists.  Don't be so ridiculous, it sounds like a complete load of hippy-crap."

CF:  ".....If you don't have a therapist, what does that make me?"

Me:  "My friend!"

CF:  "Yeah, your therapist.  I just don't get paid.  Put down the wine and write the list.. I dare you."


And there it was..  "I dare you".  
Never one to take advice, but always one to rise to a challenge - I finished my glass of wine, and prepared to write the list.

I got as far as "I quite like how my new underwear makes my bottom look perky."

Second attempt..  "I have been told that I have a nice arse."  - Ok, forget the bottom.  I actually don't mind my arse - but clearly, it wasn't a suitable subject for 'positive thinking' exercises..  I was failing to take anything seriously at this point - and was frankly more interested in my wine and listening to Joni Mitchell..

Another go, another glass of wine..  -  I am a good listener." 
Actually, I am a good listener. 

I'm not going to pretend that I gave up the vino in exchange for navel-gazing..  I just figured that the wine and the hippy bullshit 'positive thinking' concept could co-exist.

A few hours (and glasses of wine) later - I got a message from the CF, stating that she expected this to be a serious matter, and not a list that detailed how wonderful I was at drinking tequila from ice fountains (don't ask)...

I still haven't really started the list.  I think it'll take a few bottles of wine, let alone a few glasses.  I could fill pages and pages if I wrote a list of positive things about other people, but I find it extremely hard to voice positive things about myself.  I mean, I'm aware that I have some good points, and I may realise what a few of them are..  But it seems horribly conceited and self-obsessed to go through positive points about yourself..

Why is it that when we can find good in other people, we struggle to recognise the good in ourselves?

The other-half frequently tells me, "I wish you saw in yourself what others see in you.."

I've said that phrase to many people - wishing that they'd only realise how wonderful they really were.  I've said that phrase to people for years.. People who still believe that they are worthless, that they're 'bad'..   I don't think that about myself, but admittedly - I can be my own worst enemy at times.

So, in the spirit of New Year's Resolutions - I will complete my list (and quite possibly turn into a shrivelled up old alcoholic while I'm at it)

I threw a party this Christmas..  Possibly one of the most stressful parties I've ever thrown - but I did myself proud.. And I'm going to brag about it! ;)

I did a boxing-day-buffet..  All home cooked food, lots of wine, lots of alternatives for the non-wine-drinking crowd..  After a day spent flapping about in the kitchen, I had a fridge full of nibbles, snacks and what-ever-else you want to call buffet food..  When the guests arrived, I kissed and hugged, opened wine handed out drinks, made small talk..  I'd planned my lighting perfectly - not so dark that people couldn't see, but dim enough to be relaxing..  We had drinks, I cooked the hot food, uncovered the cold food - and handed out my best china plates for people to eat from (whilst praying no one would break anything!)..

After spending quite literally a whole day cleaning the house and preparing food - I watched the buffet diminish quickly..  My home made pastries and sandwiches disappeared, hand carved meats and sliced cheeses were wolfed down as though they hadn't taken me forever to prepare and present.. 

Three glasses of (good) wine later, I managed to actually relax, and eat something..  (I always find that hours of cooking leaves me with absolutely no desire to eat).  My family and friends crammed into my tiny living room - sprawled across the sofas and the floor..  Wine flowed, music blared and people talked about drunken rubbish..

And then, in the middle of washing up the dirty dishes, in my party dress and four inch heels.. The other half came into the kitchen, slipped his arms around my waist and whispered,

"All that hard work paid off, baby..  Everyone is having a wonderful time and you look amazing.  I can't wait to throw dinner parties for my friends, just so I can show off my beautiful, talented wife.."

And that, made the hours of work, the beaten-up-credit-card and the fairy-liquid splashes all over my ridiculously expensive dress - all worth it.  I had actually enjoyed playing at being a domestic goddess.. I was appreciated, and I was loved.