Oh, so YOU'RE the wife!

Teeth. I've nothing against them. Really, I like teeth. They're pretty attractive and very very useful when it comes to opening a packet of potato chips that just won't cooperate with being pulled apart by hands alone. But what I DON'T like about teeth is conversations about teeth. You know, when somebody starts off with their story about visiting the dentist and the next thing you know, everybody jumps in and starts talking about their own molar problems...as if I'm even remotely interested. Which I am not! So don't talk to me about your teeth. In fact, don't even mention that you went to the dentist. Unless you're me.

I went to the dentist last weekend. It wasn't planned. I'd procrastinated for about five years and a dental emergency popped into my mouth. Actually, it popped out of my mouth but as you know, I don't have conversations about teeth. My own dentist was closed and the next thing I knew, Beloved was escorting me to his own expert in Otahuhu. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the busy metropolis of Otahuhu but it's quite a cultural experience for a girl who was brought up on Auckland's North Shore.

Beloved's been going to this man for over 25 years and has become pretty friendly with him and his VERY attractive wife on reception. So when he escorted me in (not that I needed to be escorted in. It's not as if I was trying to get out of it or anything...much...*cough*...) it was natural for him to introduce me. The dentist looked surprised.
"Oh...hello...yes. I've met you already!'
"Really?"
"Yes, I met you at the Botany Downs shopping centre. You were dressed in a costume." Then he muttered something about a mustache.
Well, that was enough for me. Clearly the man HAD met me. So I lay back and stretched my gob to expose decades' worth of abused and blackened amalgam:

Hey, I never said it would be pretty!

 And as I lay there, desperately wanting to swallow and choke on my own tongue, I began to think. It's not unusual to see me wearing a costume at a shopping centre at all. Nothing weird about that is there? It must have been when we were on our way home from a pirate costume party and I looked like this:

For a pirate, I think I'm pretty cute.

Hang on. That was at Sylvia Park shopping centre and there was no mustache involved in that pirate get up. I was blonde and really really cute. It kept going round and round in my head: "Mustache...mustache...Oh CRAP! MUSTACHE!" It was five years ago and I need to make it clear that there was a very reasonable explanation as to why I was wandering around a busy shopping mall on a Friday night looking like THIS:

Come on girls. Admit I was hot. Heck, I even fancy myself!

 Finally it was time to rinse so I had the chance to confirm. It was a bit delicate but I asked the question:
"Ummm...when you met me at the shops a few years back, was I...ummm....dressed like a...a...."
"A man? Yes, you were. You had a mustache and chest hair and your husband introduced you as his wife. All this time I thought your husband was a bit...ummm...I thought he was in a relationship with a man. But now I actually see you here..."
Phew! I'm not sure which was the worst introduction, the man or the gaping mouth.

Oh, I'm going back on Monday. I won't tell you what for because conversations about teeth are just so boring. I'll tell you one thing though. I'm going to wear a dress!

The most fun I've had with ten bucks EVER

Some people call it a fetish. I call it an "affinity". Whatever you call it, I love costumes. I love dressing up. I love sparkles and pretty colours. I love trawling the costume ads on Trademe and I have probably spent far too much money by now. I have quite an extensive collection, for no particular reason. I have a room with two wardrobes, a couple of chests of drawers and a few boxes stuffed with interesting outfits that might come in handy some day. I have...
2x blue and gold mermaid costumes
Caesar
Superwoman
Superhero (generic)
Ball gowns
Kimono
Traditional Korean Dress
Wizard cloak
Delux Santa suit
Elf suits
various hats, gloves and accessories

And that's just in the adult range. There's a whole wardrobe of kids animal suits and goodness knows what else.

This week I scored a BARGAIN!

 

TEN BUCKS! I know...you're impressed, I can tell. Here's a blurry little film clip to make you even more jealous.

And just in case you can't quite see what's happening in the movie clip...

Running upstairs is one thing that is very difficult to do in a Liquorice All Sorts costume.

And something else that is difficult:

Since I have two videos, I'm open to a trilogy. The third movie - River Dancing in a liquorice all sorts costume whilst wearing a Nubrella Remember the Nubrella? . Watch this space!

Lost in translation

I've been having a think. I really do need to get my mojo back and look for the smiles in life. The last post (Please Say Amen) was a bit of a downer and a huge thank you to those of you who read it and came to me with encouraging words (not everyone posts comments - some people actually do speak to me in real life). Being a foster parent can be rewarding and it can be bl**dy hard - excuse my French. Oooh, that reminds me...when I was a kid, I used to belt out that Beatles song called "Oh Blah Dee, Oh Blah Da" because it meant that I could say "bl**dy" and not get told off for swearing.

Anyway, I thought I'd look for some of the lighter moments. Just before our guy had his spin out (and got cruelly ripped away from us by a "Certain Government Department!!) he would often have friends over to stay. One of these is a lovely Vietnamese boy, J, who has limited English. There had been some talk about a mufti day at school with a super-hero theme. J knocked on my door and asked if I could buy him "clothes". I was a bit concerned and asked if his parents could take him to buy clothes. He said, "No, they no understand. I only one who use computer". I thought that was a bit random but agreed that if he had the money we could arrange something - especially after he flashed 160 bucks under my nose. I mentioned this to Beloved who organised J and his non-English speaking mum to accompany him to the mall on Thursday night.

Incidentally, did I mention that Armageddon was coming up and my son M had been hanging out for it all year? I relented and bought him the costume he'd been begging for. It cost loads but since I have a weakness for costumes resulting in two wardrobes bulging with "interesting outfits", I gave in so that I could add it to my collection.

Anyway, Thursday rolled around and Beloved rocked up to the Mall with J and his mum in tow. It didn't take long for my phone to ring. It was Beloved.
"Errr....what's this costume M's got?"
"Costume? Why do you want to know about that for" I know that's apalling grammar but I was a little nervous about talking to Beloved about M's costume. I couldn't remember if I'd actually told him I'd bought it - on account of how much it had cost (I just thought I'd slip it into my collection without anyone noticing).
"Well it's not "clothes" J wants, it's "CLOUD"! He wants a CLOUD costume like M's!!!"

Ummm...slight misunderstanding there I think.

Awkward....

Back to Armageddon, M wore the costume and now it stinks of his armpits. I'm not exactly sure how to wash it without damaging it. And as for the Cloud costume. When M first asked for one about a year or so ago I said I'd think about it. I planned on surprising him by making one for him but thought it was a bit out of character for him to want something so....fluffy. Thankfully I opened my mouth and suggested that I would need an awful lot of cotton wool to make a cloud costume big enough to fit him. Phew! Good save - he might have looked a bit silly walking into Armageddon covered in fluff. Not that any of the other sci fi fans looked silly of course!

Just one more thought on the horror of the past week. Can someone please tell me, if something doesn't kill you does it make you stronger? Or harder? I don't think I ever want to be hard but is that the only way to stop being hurt by a stupid CGD?

My lips are sealed

Ever sit down to blog something and realise that you've got nothing to say?

I think I'll share the "Fart in a Bucket" tale next...or quite possibly "What's on my Trade Me Watchlist"...I'm bidding on a few mascot costumes at the moment. I really hope I win the Scooby Doo costume because then I'll have an excuse to travel across town to Waitakere to visit a Facebook friend I haven't met yet.

Besides, I'm sure a Scooby Doo costume will come in very handy some day.

I think I'll go visit the Fart in a Bucket to see if it will inspire me for my next "real" blog.