Thanks for stopping by. Mummy Mayhem is no longer updated. I now have a new, albeit smaller blog over at www.jodieansted.blogspot.com.au.

Drop by anytime. :)


Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Dance of Revenge - We Interrupt This Transmission...

My apologies. Have you been waiting on the edge of your seats in great anticipation for the next exciting instalment of The Dance of Revenge? *cough*

I'm so sorry I didn't get around to posting it this week. I am sitting her at 11.24pm on Sunday night typing this - the first chance I have had all day to hit the computer. You see, this past weekend - starting with a fab Opening Night party on Friday night - we held our school's major fundraiser. It's not a Quiz Night or a lemonade stand or the like - but a two day extravaganza filled with art, craft, rides, fairy floss, raffle draws, jewellery...you name it. It's full on. And many parents spend months and months putting it together each year, as well as many hours helping out during the weekend by manning stands and baking goodies to be sold, and also enjoying the festivities and watching their kids run amok, high on sugar. (And we did all of that and more.)

Hence...I have just been too busy this weekend - and tonight, too exhausted (so imagine how the fundraising committee must feel - they probably collapsed in to bed tonight by 9pm!) - to get to my regular Sunday post of The Dance of Revenge. (I'm one of these people who always underestimates how much time I'll have to get things done.) 

But I promise it will be back next week. 

I plan to tell you a little bit more about the weekend at some stage (hopefully tomorrow), because I want to tell you what we bought there, and explain the story behind it. 

So, pop back soon, won't you? And in the meantime, if you haven't already started reading the book I started writing when I was 14, just scroll down on the homepage, and on the RHS you'll find links to The Dance of Revenge story so far. 

See you soon lovely readers!


Friday, October 29, 2010

Hot or Not? Brad Pitt

We always end the week in a frivolous kind of way here at Mummy Mayhem with Hot or Not...

I was surprised - really, I was - that Javier Bardem didn't fare better in last week's Hot or Not. Seems Penelope doesn't have much competition after all. She can now rest easy. *cough*

Now, I kind of feel in one sense that this week's choice is too obvious a one. How many times have I heard women say, "Oh, Brad Pitt....GORGEOUS." I may not be repeating what I've heard verbatim, but something along those lines anyway.

So here's the shocker...I've never really been a huge Brad Pitt fan. I mean, I can see he's a fairly good-looking guy, a great actor, and there are certain movies he's been in that I've thought....nice (eg the Oceans films and Mr & Mrs Smith with his main squeeze, Ang). Did I think he was gorgeous in Thelma & Louise when everyone was raving about him? Nup. Unless he's having a fun rapport with his cast mates George Clooney and Matt Damon during promo interviews for the Oceans films, am I impressed with his real life persona? Not much. The fact he's actively involved with various charities impresses me though. I like people who 'give back'. But do I find him hot? Hmmm...not really. 

Does all of this surprise you, or do you agree with me?

What's your take on Brad Pitt. Is he hot, or not?


This weekly post was inspired by Insomniac Mummy's weekly Hot or Not. 

On Mummy Mayhem This Week

This week on Mummy Mayhem: Some inspiration, my latest vlog, a fab GIVEAWAY and MORE!

On Mummy Mayhem this week...

Last week, we pondered whether Javier Bardem was hot, or not? (My fave comment so far is from Aussiewaffler: 'Tapas, hot, Jarvier, not...' Lovin' it.)

In Chapter Two, Part III of The Dance of Revenge, we had a little French lesson, thanks to the French book I obviously had to use to write the French phrases in the book I started writing at age 14 - seeing that I couldn't (and still can't) actually speak French, let alone write it. 

Headaches. I loathe them, and this past week, I had a few. 

Is your shyness or lack of confidence or fear holding you back from doing the things you really want to do? Come on... Just do it!

I vlogged again this week - with opening and closing credits, and music and all! - about how I fell for Natalie Barr (of Sunrise fame) last Saturday. 

On my recipe blog, Mummy Mayhem's Recipe Box, I started a new semi-regular post: Fab Food Find. Find out what food I found this week that I love. I posted a yummy recipe: Pork with White Mustard Sauce, and announced a GIVEAWAY all Aussie residents can enter to win. 

Join me later today for this week's Hot or Not...a popular actor considered to be universally hot...but I'm not 100% convinced. I need your thoughts. ;) 

Until then...


Thursday, October 28, 2010

Vlog #3: The Day I Fell For Natalie Barr of Sunrise

It's vloggin' time again...

Do you have any stories of running in to a celebrity or meeting one or just seeing one at your son's cricket match that you embarrass yourself in front of? 

Oh! *Raises hand* I do! 

I warn you. The details are not pretty. They involve Natalie Barr of Sunrise fame (for all you non-Aussie readers, Sunrise is the equivalent of the USA's Today Show), a camping chair, a tub of yoghurt and my friends Alison and Sarah. Oh, and my 8yr old son's Saturday cricket match.

Anyway...you can just watch. What am I babbling on for?



Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Just Do It (This is not a Nike ad)

Sometimes, you just have to push yourself. 

When I first met my friend, Jessica* (my best friend in high school), she was a very shy girl. She knew she was and she didn’t like being that way. In fact, towards the end of high school, or maybe the first year out (I can’t remember – I’m old now, you know!) she pushed herself to do a modeling course. She did this because she knew that at the end of the course, she would have to walk a catwalk, raised above all the crowd that would be there watching her (including myself) – her greatest fear – and she thought the experience would help her let go of her shyness. You see, Jessica didn’t want her shyness to hold her back from anything. She didn’t want it to stop her doing things she wanted to do, and so she made a conscious (and brave) decision to do something about it. I couldn’t help but admire her for that.

I wasn’t what I would describe as a shy girl when I was younger. In fact, I was pretty ok about getting up in front of people. I remember dancing in front of my whole class when I was 7 (I have no idea why – perhaps I just wanted to), and playing the role of the Little Drummer Boy in my primary school’s Christmas production that same year (none of the boys could keep a beat like I could on a drum). In high school, I took Speech & Drama and loved getting up in front of everyone to act or sing or dance. I did get terribly nervous when I took part in speech competitions, but I managed to do get through them, and even progress from the heats to the Quarter Finals two years running (but bummed out after that – I was terrible at impromptu speeches). However, there were plenty of other instances that my fear would hold me back.

Take the annual Royal Show in Perth, for example. All my friends would jump enthusiastically on to the roller coaster, and I’d jump on the Tunnel of Love instead. The most thrilling it got was when my boat would raise slightly in the water on rollers and then gently swoosh back down in to the water. I’d always leave the Royal Show each year inevitably regretting that once again I hadn’t just put my fears aside and joined my friends. I’d listen to their animated conversation about how much fun they’d had on all the ‘scary’ rides, and would lie in bed that same night experiencing acute regret that I had missed out on all the fun. Again. The next year, we’d head to the Royal Show and I would convince myself that I would finally join my friends on the roller coaster, and once again, I’d find myself standing on the sidelines, holding their show bags whilst they had more fun together.

Something changed in my late teens. I didn’t want to miss out anymore, and one year at the Royal Show I took the plunge and jumped on a ride called The Western Roundup. You stood in a rounded cage, and it would spin so fast you would be pushed back against the cage, and it would then slowly rise and turn partly on its side – the force keeping you in your place. And it was thrilling. I loved it so much, I went on it three or four times. Then I went on other rides…including the roller coaster. I remember leaving the Show that year so happy that at last, I could contribute to the conversation afterwards about how much fun we had all had.

The older I have gotten, I’ve come to realise that sometimes you just have to say ‘yes’ – even when saying ‘yes’ at the time feels way out of your comfort zone. When my priest asked me to get up in church and talk about my faith earlier this year, I was anxious about doing it at first, but I said yes because at the end of the day, I really wanted to do it. I really wanted to share my story, and I also thought it would be great for my kids to see me get up and stand confidently in front of a crowd and tell my story. (Three times in fact!) I did it, and it felt great. If I had said ‘no’, I know I would have regretted it.

Just this week, I did something that I doubt I would have said yes to 10 years ago. I accepted an opportunity to talk to a company – on camera – about my parenting experience (to be used on their website – I’ll keep you posted). When I walked away afterwards, I was amazed that I had just walked in there, sat down in front of a camera with bright lights on me and answered questions without too much fuss on my part. I’m glad I said yes, because I just don’t want to miss out on anything. I’ve become good at asking myself, ‘What’s the worst that can happen if I say ‘yes’?’

I have learnt over the years – just like Jessica did when she took to that catwalk – that if there’s something you really want to do, and you’re given the opportunity to do it – don’t let anything hold you back. Don’t live your life with regrets. Life is just too short to do that, and we only get one shot at this. Once an opportunity has passed...it's gone. Embrace everything life has to offer. Push yourself if you have to. Don’t worry about what people will think of you. Don’t let your fears, or your shyness, hold you back, because you may find yourself lying in bed at night - just like I used to - regretting your decision not to say 'yes'.

Just DO it.

Do you have fears? Do they hold you back from doing the things you really want to do?


* Not her real name. 

Monday, October 25, 2010

Honey, I Have a Headache. No...Really.

On Saturday I found myself curled up in bed for half the day.

I went to the 8yo's cricket match in the morning, and it was hot there. The inbuilt car thermostat told me it was over thirty degrees. I think that may have been the reason I found myself in bed that afternoon. I ended up with a pounding headache - no doubt partly due to the heat, and partly due to turning my head to one side to talk to friends for most of the three hours I was there. 

I've always suffered from headaches through back and neck pain, and sometimes heat (although, for years, I thought it was solely my neck that caused the headaches). When I was younger - first out in the workforce - I suffered them regularly. I think it was due to my workstation at the time, and as I learnt more about my posture, and how I should be sitting at my desk, the headaches diminished somewhat, but never completely left me all the time I was at work. 

Sometimes, my headaches were (in fact, sometimes still are) excruciating. I remember when I first started dating my husband, he had no idea how painful my headaches were. When I asked him one night out at the pub if we could go home early due to my headache, he just assured me we would 'leave soon', and a couple of hours later - finally home in bed - my headache had escalated so much, it felt as though my head was going to explode with the pain. I was nauseous and had Hubby wiping my face with a cool, damp flannel whilst I waited in desperate hope for the headache tables to kick in. After that, whenever I mentioned to Hubby we had to leave somewhere due to an oncoming headache, he knew it was time to go.

It wasn't until the late 90s, years after that incident, I learnt that I needed more than paracetamol to help the pain. My pain was muscular, and I started taking over-the-counter headache tablets that targeted my muscle pain, and hence eased my pain more quickly. 

At a friend's wedding in the summer of 2000, I ran around in the exceptionally strong heat that day, taking photos most of the afternoon. By early evening, I felt another of my headaches coming on. I had gotten used to carrying some headache medicine with me, but having used an evening bag I rarely took out that day, I had failed to transfer the pills in to it. The reception, not being at a hotel or similar venue, meant that I had little opportunity to try and obtain some headache tablets, and the nearest chemist was miles away. I walked around like some drug addict, asking people I knew - and some that I didn't - if they had anything I could take, and ended up empty handed. Hours later, when we finally arrived home (I just couldn't bare leaving my friend's big day any sooner than I did), my head was pounding so hard that I could barely make it up the stairs. Hubby had to help me up. 

When I fell pregnant with the 8yo in 2001, I knew I couldn't take the same headache tablets. My Ob/Gyn assured me I could take paracetamol and paracetamol with codeine in it if need be, but I tried so hard to avoid it. Fortunately, being away from work meant that I stopped having so many of the headaches I had been suffering on a fairly regular basis. However, I do recall one particular evening trying to sit up attempting to will my pounding headache away - convinced that the paracetamol I had in the cupboard wouldn't work anyway - before finally giving in to taking the tablets and being surprised with the almost instant relief. (Later, my Ob/Gyn would assure me that I could take paracetamol every day for the rest of my life if I wanted to, and it would be ok. It was better for me and my baby to deal with the headache, than deal with the stress of having the headache.)

I know know what tends to cause my headaches
  • too much reading for an extended period of time - especially in bed (which to be honest, I don't get to do all that often these days, but happens when I read blogs for a couple of hours at a time); 
  • lying in an awkward position when I sleep (I like to be on my stomach, head turned to one side, one leg bent up - it's a killer for the back and neck); 
  • lifting the 3yo (which I don't do often these days - and never need to - but do occasionally just because I want to); and 
  • sitting with my shoulders hunched up (I'm not a very 'tense' person, but I do sometimes sit with my shoulders up - usually when I'm concerning myself over my to-do list, or watching the 3yo being a daredevil ;) ).  

Fortunately, since having my kids, the headaches have become far less frequent. I've also become much better at reading the signs of when a headache is coming on: neck and back stiffness, and a dull thumping in the top of my head. I then know, once I start to feel more and more stiffness in my back and neck, that it's time to head back to physio. 

After spending close to five hours in bed on Saturday afternoon (and I'm glad it was a day when Hubby was around to deal with the kids), I know I have to head back to physio again. I'll have two, maybe three sessions at most, and it will all be ok again for a while. That, and I'll have to be sure to sleep purely on my side, and leave the 3yo alone. ;)

How about you? Do you suffer from headaches or migraines? How often, and how do you cope?


Sunday, October 24, 2010

The Dance of Revenge - Chapter Two, Part III

Are you ready? It's time for another instalment from the book I started writing at age 14...The Dance of Revenge.

I have made a conscious effort not to read my book ahead of each part I post, otherwise I think I'd lose the nerve to publish it. Yes, it's cringe worthy at times, but hey - I was a young lass when I wrote it! That's my excuse, anyway...

Now last week, Sherrie's mother, Elizabeth and her lover, Adam got a little...sexy. *cringes* Anhooo....this week you'll be glad to note that I've injected a little more of the French language in to the text. I recall using an old book of French at the time. You'll find a lot of the phrases are useful for travellers and people who want to shop in France. Think of this week's instalment as a form of entertainment and a chance to learn the language of love. 

You're welcome.

If you need to catch up on the story so far, just scroll down on the RHS of my homepage and you'll find some links under a pic of ballet slippers where you can read the story to date. 

Ok. Deep breath. Here we go... (oh, and remember - I'm putting my comments on my story in [red brackets like this]). ;)

Chapter Two
Part III

Sherrie woke to see the sun streaking through the window. A very fine day. She turned to look at the clock and noticed it was eight-thirty. She was late! She would have to get up for ballet lessons.

Saturdays were the most loved days of Sherrie's life. [Lucky Sherrie. Saturdays for me involve kid's sport, cleaning, running around like a lunatic...the usual. Although, I do get to dance sometimes. That is, in the kitchen whilst I'm sweeping or the like.] She loved to get ready in her warm-ups for ballet class. Every Saturday was like a ritual. Awake [she's awake!], have breakfast, shower, dress and then catch the local train to her class. 

This morning Sherrie got up reluctantly because she knew she would have to face Adam. He always stayed on Friday nights. She placed on her dressing gown and made her way to the kitchen. Last night had not been good. Nor had yesterday. Memories brought back her horrible ordeal with Adam

When she opened the door to the kitchen, there sat Adam at the head of the table, her mother at the other. They both looked at her immediately. 

"Bonjour!" Sherrie's mother and Mr Brair greeted. Sherrie hated him speaking their language. 

"Bonjour," she replied quietly. She did not look at Mr Brair for fear of being sick.

"Que voulez-vous boire?" What do you want to drink? her mother asked. Sherrie shrugged. 

"Froid du lait." Cold milk. Elizabeth fetched the milk from the refrigerator and placed [it] near Sherrie's bowl of porridge. When Sherrie had finished, she was about to leave for her shower. [and... I could have worded that differently, I think!] Elizabeth turned to look at her empty bowel.  [Wow - did she have x-ray vision or something? Oh. I get it. She looked at Sherrie's empty bowl. Riiight.] 

"Would you like some more, Sherrie?"

"Non, merci. J'ai eu suffisamment." No, thank you. I have had enough. [I really ought to check this French with Hubby, seeing that he can speak it. Although, then I'd have to let him read this story. Nup. That aint gonna happen.] Sherrie returned her plate and glass to the sink and rinsed them quickly before showering. [Presumably, she went to the bathroom to shower, and didn't try to shower at the kitchen sink.] When she was finally in the shower, she let the water trickle down her body so that she could relax. Soon she was dressed and ready for her lessons. She raced to her mother and gave her a hasty kiss on the cheek.

"Goodbye, mother. I'll see you at twelve." Sherrie ran from the house before her mother could complain that she had not said goodbye to Mr Brair.

Sherrie sat down at the train station and waited for the first train to arrive. [I had no concept about how to catch a train. When I wrote, 'the first train' I was talking about the first scheduled train, which would have had a time, of course.] At exactly nine the train arrived. [That is, nine o'clock. There you go - it was the 9am train! Also, it's still a mystery exactly where in France Sherrie lived. I had no idea of any place other than Paris at the time, hence I left this information out. ;) ] Sherrie boarded the train and paid her small fare. She found a seat towards the back near the window, and hurried to retrieve it. Once seated, she could let her mind wander. 

She thought about her ballet teacher, Madam Du Busson. [I wonder where I got that name from? No idea.] The woman was strict and old, but a very fine teacher. [Once again, borrowing cliches to fill my story. Ballet teachers, in my mind back then, were always 'old' and 'strict'. I'd never had a ballet lesson in my life, so I only knew what I had seen on tv or read in books.] Sherrie stared out the window to see the country speed past her. Then came her most horrid part of the ride. [I think I meant 'her most dreaded part of the ride' or something similar.] A long bridge above water was necessary for the train to pass over, and she hated it because you could not see the tracks. Just miles and miles of water. She held her breath whilst crossing the thin bridge. Once the train was over the other side, she relaxed. Not far to go now, she thought.

When the train finally reached her stop, she hurried so as not to miss her class. She walked one block from the station until she came to a very large building with an arch as the entrance. She opened the glass doors and walked straight to the elevator. Once inside the elevator, she pushed the button for the third floor. The elevator opened to reveal a long hall down to a single door. [A bit 'Alice in Wonderland' inspired, no doubt.] She half walked, half ran to it and hurried inside. Madame was warming at the barre. 

"Ah, Sherrie. Comment allez-vous?" How are you? asked Madame Du Busson. 

"Ca va, je vous remercie, et vous, ca va tojours bien?" Very well thank you, and you are keeping well?

"Oui!" Madame replied. "Merci, Sherrie." She looked at Sherrie proudly. "As my star pupil Sherrie, I hoe that you can change in less than five minutes. All the other girls are nearly ready." Sherrie shrieked with alarm. She hurried in to the change room to put on her warm-ups. [Hold on...wasn't she wearing her warm-ups at home earlier? Continuity, Jodie...continuity!] Inside the change room, she met up with her friend, Aliza. 

"Hi Aliza. Comment allez-vous?" Sherrie asked. 

"Tres bien, merci. Et vous?" Very well, thanks. And you?"

"Pas mal non plus." Not bad either. They made small talk whilst Sherrie dressed. Then they hurried out to the floor to sit with Madame. Another session had begun.

Phew. Chapter Two is COMPLETE! Stay tuned next week. Just flicking through the next few pages of my carefully type-written, blue-coloured pages I have here in front of me, I see there's a few ballet moves coming up next week, and an introduction to Sherrie's grandmother. 


Friday, October 22, 2010

Hot or Not? Javier Bardem

With Julia in Eat Pray Love
Every week, I ask you, my dear readers, if the celebrity of my choice (I mostly get to choose because it's my blog and all, but sometimes I ask for suggestions ;) ) is hot, or not?

Last week, Hugh Jackman had a positive response, although it was interesting to note that many thought his new Lipton Iced Tea ad was a little...off-putting. Hmmm...

Anyway, on to this week's choice. There's something very attractive about Spanish men. When I was on a Contiki Tour (oh, yeah!) back in 1991 when I was a spring chicken 20 years old, I met three gorgeous Spanish men at our base in Paris. One was called Jesus. Who could forget a name like that? They were sooooo nice. Except for the fact that they really wanted to see New Zealand more than Australia. Pffft. (Just kidding NZ readers!)

Anyway, enough of my rambling. You're not here to read what I have to say today, are you? You're here to admire... Therefore, without further ado, I give you Javier Bardem, co-star of the movie I really want to see, Eat Pray Love, and fairly new husband to the equally gorgeous Penelope Cruz

Whaddya think? Is Javier hot, or not?


* Inspired by Insomniac Mummy's weekly Hot or Not

On Mummy Mayhem This Week

It's time to find out what you might have missed on Mummy Mayhem this week...

Some of you decided that although Hugh Jackman was indeed HOT, his Liptons Ice Tea advertisement...well...wasn't.

In last week's instalment of The Dance of Revenge (the book I started writing at age 14), Sherrie's mother, Elizabeth, and her fiance, Adam, got...ah, a little intimate. *cringe*

I wrote about a (ahem) sticky situation I got myself in to on a Metro train in Paris, and asked: what's your worst Travel Tale?

I vlogged again this week: Woof Woof - a vlog about searching for stuff, not about my dog. 

And finally, I have two words for you: nits and lice. Ick. Read on...

I thought I'd also share what happens on Mummy Mayhem's Recipe Box each week as well.

Last week, I posted a recipe for Spiced Lamb, Couscous and Spinach Salad. Delish! And I also posted a yummy recipe for Pumpkin Coriander Soup

Enjoy. And pop back later today to see who this week's Hot or Not candidate is!


Thursday, October 21, 2010

Nitting (Without the 'K')

Image: nitwits.com.au
Warning: Reading the following post might make your head a little itchy. Sorry 'bout that. ;)

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited by NitWits Natural to Sydney Wildlife World with the family to see some animals, touch a lizard, have a snake knock its head in to my back (when a handler was showing it to someone behind me - ick!) and watch a little demo on the new products NitWits Natural have recently released to help fight nits and lice.

I can't stand nits. So far, we've only been struck down once since the 8yo started school. even got them! I tell you...it was a long night when I found out I had them in my hair - after discovering them in the boys' hair during bath time - knowing they were crawling around in there. *shudder*

Anyway, now my boys are back to school after their short break, it's only a matter of time before the first note comes home advising that nits and lice have been discovered in their class. 

Thanks to NitWits Natural I've got the following products stuffed in to my bathroom cabinet ready and raring to go if need be:

NitWits products include a head lice comb with a magnifying glass
& Anti-Lice & Detangling Spray.

Anyway, if you need any info about nits and lice and how to get rid of them, you can check out their website here.

Now - you're free to scratch away if you need to. ;) 


Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Vlog #2: Woof Woof

Me - vlogging. Again.
It's vloggin' time...

I'm all about discussing the big issues here at Mummy Mayhem. I really am. It's all earth-shattering stuff here, folks.  

I hope you enjoy my second vlog. I managed to not scratch my nose in this one like I did in my first vlog a couple of weeks ago (at least, I don't think I did). Oh, yes. I'm becoming quite the professional vlogger now. *cough*  

Today I'm asking: is losing stuff, and not being able to find it, a 'boy thing'? Or is it just my family?



Monday, October 18, 2010

Travel Tales

Sometimes, travel plans just don't...well, go to plan...

Hubby and I returned on Saturday from a week long holiday on the Gold Coast (Queensland for all you non-Aussies) with the kids. We drove there and back (some 12 hours on the road - each way - which includes stops). You would think I'd have some tales to tell about that, but to be honest, it all went pretty smoothly. (Life is full of surprises.) In fact, the thing that stood out the most about the drive up there was when we saw a RTA (Road & Traffic Authority) electronic board on the side of the road: the kind of one that usually says something like, Roadworks Ahead or Drive Slowly, Wet Conditions. Instead, the sign we saw flashed YOU EAT POO. As my friend, Jen noted - you could be forgiven for thinking the 3yr old had hacked in to the RTA system. 

In fact, our family holiday to the Gold Coast was not even the slightest bit eventful (if you don't count me screaming my way down the Vikings Revenge Flume Ride at Sea World, that is). 

However, back in 1997 (pre-children), Hubby and I took a trip to France and Ireland for four weeks. It, ah, started well, but quickly went down hill from there. Let me explain.

We'd purchased the most discounted airline tickets from Qantas we could possibly find. (We may have been able to travel cheaper on another airline, but my fear of flying meant that I only wanted to fly with Qantas because of its perfect safety record. Just like in Rainman.) Hubby's cousin had a few contacts at Qantas at the time, and he somehow managed to get us upgraded to business class - right the way through to London (from Sydney). Score.

Seeing that even the check-in lady seemed shocked at our upgrade (she checked, re-checked then rang her supervisor before reluctantly issuing our boarding passes), right up until the plane took off I was convinced we'd get a tap on the shoulder from a Qantas staff member advising us that there had been some HUGE mistake with our tickets, and it was back to cattle class for us. 

Fortunately, that didn't happen. However, being a mostly 'glass half-empty' kinda gal at times, I figured that there would be some kind of trade-off, and I was right. Firstly, the couple who sat behind us had, from memory, three children that constantly moved up and down from their seats, and would use our seats to pull themselves up. I don't sleep on planes as a rule anyway, but I did manage to doze off a couple of times, both times woken by the jerky movements of my chair thanks to the couple's offspring. (The experience has made me the Travel Nazi with my own children - they are told quickly if they do the same thing or kick the chair in front of them. Been there, done that, you see.)

However, as it turns out, the flight was nothing compared to what was about to happen.

After arriving at Heathrow, we took our connecting flight to Paris, only to arrive to find that our bags had not accompanied us. We watched in vein as all the luggage gradually disappeared one-by-one off the baggage carousel, and ours failed to appear. Filling in of various forms ensued, and we were assured our bags would be couriered to our hotel that evening.

It was our first day in Paris, and even though we were still dressed in the same clothes we'd been wearing for well over 24 hours by that stage, we decided to go out and see some of the sights anyway. Why let a little thing like lack of clean clothes hold us back?

Eventually, we found ourselves on a Metro train; right in the middle of peak hour. As we crammed in to the carriage like sardines, with Hubby and I facing each other, the train left the station and it was then I suddenly felt something hard sticking in to my buttock. I tried to move closer to Hubby, but the object wasn't going anywhere, and just moved with me; it seemed to push harder and harder in to my buttock.

I whispered to Hubby what was happening, and he attempted to look behind me, but it was so cramped in the carriage, he could barely move and couldn't see past my head. Neither could I. I couldn't even turn halfway around, so crammed in to the carriage were we. 

As the train pulled up at the next stop, passengers moved away quickly, and soon the carriage was empty, and my buttock was relieved of the hard 'object'. With the air now flowing freely around my body, I suddenly noticed that the thin leggings I was wearing at the time felt wet, right where the object had been pushing in to my buttock. 

Confused, I put my hand down to feel the wet patch, and it was then I realised it was a sticky substance. I knew, even before I looked down at my hand to confirm my suspicions, what it was on my buttock and sure enough, there was...well...semen on my hand.

I panicked, and without thinking twice, I promptly used Hubby's jacket sleeve to wipe it away. Not surprisingly, Hubby wasn't impressed, but he was also concerned about what had happened, and we promptly made our way back to the hotel. 

There, I stripped, showered, and waited under the sheets of our hotel room bed until our missing bags finally arrived late that evening, vowing never to get on a packed Metro train again (and I never did).  

Yes. Give me a scary ride at Sea World any day, thank you very much.

What's the worst thing to happen to you on a trip? Go on...make me feel better about my experience. ;) 


*If some of you find this story familiar, it's because I posted a comment on the now closed blog, Get Real summarising the same story.