What's Happening on Melinda's Planet?

Not a whole lot. You can tell because, for the past couple of days, I've been blogging rubbish. I go through spurts where I have tons of things I think are witty or clever. They might not be witty or clever to anyone else, but it keeps me amused and out of trouble. The past couple of days there has been a void of intelligence in my head. Negative intelligence. An intelligence vacuum.

I did have a phone call from my mummy last night, which is always a big event for me, and I had an email from my Aunt Glenda today. That was a big deal because it's the first one I've had from her since Hurricane Rita destroyed her house.

Evidently my sister is off to Iraq soon. She's non-military and should only be there six months. I know a few people who have gone over as non-military personnel. Sounds like there's good money in it. I'd do it if it weren't for the kids. Oh, and if I had any useful skills. I don't think they're looking for historians or criminologists.

Malorie has decided not to continue her course at sixth form next year. She's been doing a vocational course, though I've never been entirely sure what the qualification at the end of it was supposed to be. She wants to do a hairdressing and beauty therapy course at the local college instead. I think that's a good move for her, and I've been encouraging her and helping her get applications sorted. She told her dad today that she wants to do it and that it is a three year course, and he was not impressed one bit that she's not going to drop everything and move to Texas as soon as she turns 18. Braden has also applied to do a course at college. Since he wants to "pimp" cars, he's applied for a course in body repair, painting, etc. I had high hopes for him going to university, but more than that, I want him to do what makes him happy. He can still go to uni afterwards. For what he wants to do as a career, the body repair knowledge and qualifications certainly won't hurt.

We had a ball celebrating Ricky's birthday yesterday. I told him I'll take him shopping this week to let him pick some things out because I just couldn't find anything that I thought he'd like. He's nine now, and half the stuff I saw seemed to babyish while the other half seemed to old for him. He liked the idea of shopping for himself.

And since my birthday is coming up soon, Simon has taken every opportunity over the past few days to tell me that I'm an old git. It's not even my 40th birthday yet, but he's counting down the days until I turn 40. That's what I get for marrying a younger man. Again. I should have remembered from the last time. Even when they look older than me.

I had to say that. I know my ex reads this!