My new favourite Spanish name.

Okay, so spanish people can have really funny names, in case you didn't already know, the spanish have their first name, which are very commonly double barrelled, and they take their fathers first last name, and their mothers first last name. If somewhere along the line there has been a notable last name, they can also continue it on, if they damn well please, using both of each parents 2 last names, then grandparents, great grand parents etc etc until your name is longer than the passport queue at a London airport.

Until now, my favourite name has been Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. (Mary Jesus yes that is actually a woman's name Of all the Saints). I don't know why this is my favourite, I just heard it once and thought it was funny. When Maro & Sing, the aussies who lived here, went back to Australia, I tried to send them jamon (cured ham - a spanish delicacy) in the post, it was an air sealed plastic wrapped package, i though it might get through. On the "sender" part of the package I put that it was from Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos. The jamon didn't get through. They got a note from customs saying that Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos was commiting a crime by sending meat in the post.

So although I've known my friend Maria's full name for a long time, I've never really thought exactly what her name translates into english. My friend Maria, who rocks by the way, mentioned at dinner the other night that people used to laugh at her name when she was at school. Then after discussing why, I realised that yes, she has a really fucking funny name. Its Maria Isabel León Carrillo del Albornoz. Which translates to Mary Elizabeth Lion Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe. HELLO! HILARIOUS! How have I missed this excellent name of my good friend Maria? The only time I've even really seen her last name is on her emails, and the last name is so long I didn't really pay attention. So much time has been wasted with Maria Jesus de Todos Los Santos being my favourite! How has this little gem of Maria's name been right under my very nose the whole time!?

Even just having the word Lion in your last name is cool, not to mention Little Cheeks of the Bath Robe! Crazy shit!

I'm part Thai now

So last week my sister said to me, "Oh by the way, we are going to have a new step mother next Tuesday" WTF in capital letters, was my reply.

So my parents have been divorced for about 14 years, Dad has had a few girlfriends, since. One I didn't like much cause she pretended she was really posh even though she was going out with a man, nicknamed Keg who bought a house on a property precisely for the Greyhound training facilities, replaced the Australian flag on the flag pole in the yard with a VB flag (his favourite beer) and named his new house VB (said beer) Lodge. She was kidding herself.

Another one I didn't mind too much. Her name was Peg, which rhymed with Keg and she drank whiskys and cokes at the same rate my dad drank stubbies of VB. She was hardcore. I thought they suited. They also kinda looked the same.

Then Dad started going to Thailand. Considering that dad is pretty damn racist and is known to call chinese people chinks, and probably cannot tell the difference between Thais and chinese cause in his words "They all look the bloody same" this was quite surprising. He was obviously taking advantage of the infamous Thai sex industry. Its gross and hideous to me, but what can I do. I hardly ever speak to my dad, I can hardly disown him. Well, after a few trips there was one such Thai lady that he seemed to be quite interested in. She was a chef (score!) and eventually came back to OZ to be with him, steal my inheritance from under my very eyes and enjoy life at VB lodge (poor love).

There is no time for embaressment. There is no way I can spin this story to make it sound less embaressing. I just gotta accept it, get over it and hope they have a little Thai bebe.

She has a son, 8yrs old, who is named...wait for it.... EGG. I think Egg quietly rocks. (even though i don't know him yet).

So on a Tuesday, (a perfect day for a wedding don't you think?) Dad married the Thai. So now I have a step mother. And you know what... I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER NAME! No one has ever told me! I have NO IDEA WHAT MY STEPMOTHERS NAME IS.
There's gotta be a bright side to your dad marrying a mail order bride, so I have a few questions:
Does she cook good Pad Thai?
Can I now get a working Visa in Thailand?
Does her family live by the beach or in a picturesque landscape?
When will I have a Thai step brother/sister?

Update

My ankle was fucked and I had to get plaster. 2 weeks of plaster and I've been limping for about 2 weeks. If I thought I was doing nothing being unemployed before, being unemployed AND with plaster on my leg was REALLY doing nothing. Solitaire. Movies. Books. I went from the bed to the lounge and ocasionally getting up to go to the toilet. Argh. Hard work. I didn't even cook lunch. Marcos took over and when he was too lazy to cook lunch he just nipped on over to his parents house and picked up several days worth of delicious homemade spanish dishes. (I am waaaaay past being guilty about getting food from Ms Mum, far too tasty!)

Well one day I actually did try to make lunch, the first and last time until I was properly mobile. Our kitchen is really narrow and the space between the sink and the bench is the perfect distance to use as makeshift crutches. I started cutting some onion but I was in an awkward position so I decided to lean on the bench and swing myself around to a more frontal position, for some unfathomable reason as I was swinging myself around I held the knife I was using by its handle and pointed the sharp bit towards my person. And of course as I swung myself around I stabbed myself right in the god damn fucking thigh! It went in only about 1cm, but I felt it go in, and then the sensation of pulling it out and it was hardcore! I stabbed myself! Not a cut. a STAB! I started bleeding and Marcos came home from work minutes later to find me on the lounge, pants around my ankles, blood running down my leg and screaming the minute he walked in "I stabbed myself!" His reply WTF!? It is interesting to note that when you tell someone that you stabbed yourself their first reaction is as if you did it on purpose, like you were trying to kill yourself. The idea that you were trying to kill yourself is somehow more likely than an accidental stabbing incident. When I re-told the story, most people looked at me like I was a suicide risk when my first descriptive words of the incident were "I stabbed myself!" I soon changed it to "I ACCIDENTLY stabbed myself" and things were instantly clearer.

So due to the plaster I haven't been running for ages, I have been sitting on the lounge alot, I haven't been doing jack shit. I have been eating peanut butter & butter on toast instead of my normal healthy breakfast. I have been eating lots of lollies and chocolate that i still have left over from easter. (yes thats in April and its a little crusty but I kinda like how it makes your tongue a but furry). My doorman asked me the other day if I was pregnant, he didn't just ask it, he felt it necessary to state that I looked fatter in general and that my belly looked huge. Thanks fucker. But no. I am not pregnant. He looked a bit embaressed that i said no, but not embaressed enough to ask Marcos again when he got home, just to double check! Hijo de la gran PUTA! But interestingly, in my life, its not the first time I've been asked even though I've never been pregnant. Belly be gone! One day i will have a normal belly...one day.