Night out at the flicks!

Last night I went to the cinema. When Gravy (*previously ‘H’ in earlier posts which felt like I was leaving him of the ‘random new code name’ party that Bubble and Squeak are part of) came home I basically waved hi/bye, picked up my bag and swanned out the door leaving behind the squabbling boys, almost every drawer emptied on the floor, and only half-hearted attempt to cook dinner for them all. It maybe wasn’t my finest or fairest moment, but I was out all the same. I needed this time. The evening was hot and bright and I felt like I was the holiday as I basked smugly in the sun waiting for my train. On the train I felt like a supermom (general house dismantling and destruction during day rapidly forgotten). We had been making octopuses earlier in the day and I came up with the great plan to paint pasta shells and then to thread them on string to make legs. As with all great plans, something had to go wrong. This was fiddly work. Read: one for Mummy to do. I came up with a cunning plan to thread some octopus legs on my 30 minute train journey, so packed said pasta shells, string and scissors in my bag along with a couple of podcasts on my phone to keep me entertained. How cool was I? Answer: Not very.

I met up with friends A and J for dinner and a good quality catch up. Then we headed off to the cinema. I always feel like cinema chairs are designed to emphasise my weak points. I have short legs (and a long body!) so everything from sofas to chairs and swings is always slightly more physically challenging for, me especially as I am not an accomplished high-heeled shoe wearer. It’s not exactly the most poignant problem in the world at the moment, but I’m just explaining! I tend to kick off my shoes and curl up on my feet. Basically I turn into a cat, without the purring. Everything was going splendidly until…On no! I ripped the pathetic little paper tag off so I couldn’t open my ice cream. This was serious. Suddenly everything went into panic mode trying to both get into the ice cream in a miraculous way, and yet not touch the ice cream which so would have hastened its melting process. This was certainly one of those occasions where a little bit of anonymity in the crowd was quite welcome as I threw myself around desperately trying to conquer this tiny, tiny, tiny tub of overpriced ice cream. Thanks to A and J for their contagious laughter at this point. Great moral support, even if totally useless practically ;). All in all, I enjoyed the movie. It was very ‘Bridget Jones’ style this is what I expected. However they all look older and more tired. As do we. It got me thinking that what if I was single now would I actually have the energy to go out I’m party the night away? Or would I just accept spinstership and revel in the quiet? It sounded like hard work. This thought itself made me curl up further on my seat and contemplate getting a coffee in the break (yes, there is an interval half way through!).

After the film, I walked back to the station with A. It was a hot sticky Thursday night and the streets were pumping with students. Can I say pumping without sounding ridiculous and old-fashioned? I started to reminisce about my life and try to remember the time that I would also be out on a school night, getting the first drinks in around 23.30. And then it hit me. The realization that it is more than 12 years ago. 12 years. 12 years ago since I graduated my bachelor’s degree. That’s a really long time. I was suddenly very aware that my handbag contained pasta shells and scissors, a handful of receipts, some tokens from the baker, and plenty of raisins permanently stuck to the inside lining having escaped from handy snack boxes that don’t reseal. Where did my hot lip-gloss and chewing gum go? When did my wallet start to represent something for the oversized baggage line at an airport bursting with loyalty cards and Post-it notes to all over it remind me of the 17+ important things I couldn’t possibly, but that was most likely, to forget. I’m pretty sure enjoyed my younger years so wasn’t despairing that all is lost, but it did make me a little sad that wild spontaneous carefree nights were no longer an option. I had a really great evening with friends good food and film. Now I was going home and I was happy with that. That was totally got back to my final train station and had discovered that someone had slashed the wheels of my bike. Twat.

One thing is for certain we definitely going back to the cinema in the New Year to watch new film Onze Jongens. Google it. Please!

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