b3ta.com user MissFlee
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for MissFlee:
Profile Info:

MissFlee,
student (20)

Long time lurker, Sometimes I appear out of the darkness.


I sometimes look like this;




Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» Beautiful Moments, Part Two

I tripped over my slipper....
Most likely a long post ~~~Last friday I got a phonecall from my Grandma; 'missflee, Grandads in the hospital, he's had a fall and I need to get his pajamas'. Ok me thinks as I drive to the hospital take her home to get the overnight bits. Turns out he was bringing in the bins and tripped on his slipper that I'd bought him for fathers day! Cue my grandma fumbling around grabbing anything and everything, including his real life murderers book (just what you need in hospital aye) whilst I cleaned the garden and kitchen of the blood splats.. We take the trip back to the hospital seemingly hitting every red light on the way. So I see my grandad sitting in his hospital bed, 7 stitches in his hand a violot black bruise on his chin and the impending operation to add wires to his fractured hand...He looks at my grandma and forces her to promise to eat, tells her he's fine and gives her a kiss.

I take her home picking up some fish and chips on the way back only to sit infront of the tv to watch CSI; the phone rings and its my grandad, simply to say he loves and misses her. Everyday for the week he was in hospital we visited once a day, he called her 4 times a day. To have him say how he didnt like being stuck with old fogeys and wanted out.

I visit him on my own one afternoon, and he talks about his army days courting girls to get into the shows, writing letters merely to get postal orders, told me he was a virgin and told me everything was different with grandma, he just knew. She was 16 and he was 21, they dated for years before my great grandparents accepted him. He's 80 now, and they have something any couple should be jealous of.

True Love ♥
(Sun 8th Aug 2010, 19:18, More)

» Mums

The truth of the matter is...
I will never be ashamed to admit that I love my mum.

When I was fourteen after 8 close family deaths I told my mum I self harmed, she cried and cried and cried. And then asked if I wanted her to do it just so she could understand. She let me tell her every detail in my head that lead to this emotional crash and took it onboard even though she didn't truly understand.

At 17 she heard my crying in my room at 3am and came to see what was the matter. I told her that my boyfriend of three years had slept with someone else. She just hugged me, made no judgement and continued to welcome him into her home with no mention of said incident.

Those nights are painful but the things that got me through them was my mum. Someone who can finish my sentences, look at me and understand whats going on in my head, say the things that mean the most and have no idea, take me to lunch with her work friends and be proud that I'm just me, shes given me the confidence to go to uni, and do a lot of things that without her I never would have done.

Im still young, and look forwards to the years where I can tell her she's a nanna, that I'm getting married and truly make her realise she is the person I respect most in life. It hurts me to think that one day she wont be here; which is why I make the most of every minute with her.

Lack of anything funny, but the QOTW really has made me think of how precious my mummy is.
(Tue 16th Feb 2010, 16:57, More)

» The B3TA Confessional

My parents are 1st cousins.
The discussion of inbreeding within mice used for the purposes of experimentation was the topic for biology that day. Suddenly the conversation changed when a bright spark then declared anyone who was born to first cousins were instantly retarded. Im sitting there biting my tongue getting more uptight as the biology teacher practically agrees. Out of sheer annoyance I stuck up my hand and told the class that my parents were infact cousins and being in top set for all classes was surely evidence I wasn't an instant tard. Instantly the whole school knew and I was called disgusting with people daring their friends to ask if it was true expecting me to back down. I didnt. And I never will. Im pretty proud of my parents, my dad left Canada to be with my mum, My mum lost her parents for 15 years (and I didnt meet them until I was 6) due to the shame bought on the family etc etc.

And no, Im not from Norwich. Nor am I a british muslim..
(50% marry 1st cousins!! supposedly).

Im also happy to say I have the correct amount of fingers and toes and suppopsedly above average IQ (but seriously lacking common sense!)

bring on the insults ;)
(Thu 26th Aug 2010, 17:03, More)

» Expensive Weekends

Pets;
Im an animal lover, meet my two year old Bullmastiff;

Granted this is not a weekend but sometimes I feel events happen in my life just to correspond with B3tas QOTW, and today I wish it didn't.

Little mite started limping on her back leg.. Checked for glass or stones to no avail. Offending leg got worse, then better and now ultimately lame. So we go along to the vets and she's stretching the dogs leg more than Colleen Nolan in her 'workout' DVDs only to conclude that she most probably has a cruciate ligament rupture. My dogs not Micheal Owen in the 2006 world cup but that is not the point.. This op is most probably £2000, not an england world cup.. But for me my ill dog is far worse.

And to top that off, shes wondering around feeling sorry for herself all cuddled up with puppy dog eyes and I'm going to be the one to take her to the vets and abandon her tomorrow morning. Hopefully the xray will show a tear, if not its 3 months bed rest with a 50-80% chance of the other leg needing an operation at some point.

This is what a poorly sad dog looks like..

Length? Its between the femur and tibia, somewhere behind the patella

#edit# Poorly dog has had to have the op, will be picking her up at 2! think me and mum will be sleeping downstairs with her on alternate nights..fun fun.

##EDIT## Shes just dozy now.. 3/4 months til shes up like normal!

(Mon 17th May 2010, 19:23, More)

» Helicopter Parents

Carpe Diem
Daddy's little girl could never mark her body with something of such permanency, especially not a tattoo. Peircings could be dealt taken out. Knowledge of your 17 year old having sex can be ignored... But the one thing I knew would cause carnage in the family would be branding myself with a tattoo.

Dad already having a bodge job tattoo, his name on his arm with a heart resembling more of a carrot should have put me off... but it didn't.

Since the age of 15 I was inisisting to my parents that their trypanophobic daughter was going to have a tattoo on her 18th birthday, on her wrist. Which obviously led to many discussions about placement and disobeying them.

Blanketed from the terrors of alcohol and drugs this tattoo would be the first rebellious thing I had done.

So on my 18th birthday I get my tattoo, Carpe Diem, Seize the day. Told my Mum, but hid from my overprotective dad (the same dad that didn't realise I'd streched my ears to 10mm for a year). So my parents go out to the pub talking to their friends about tattoos, as I've been told, the conversation went a little like this...

friend1: I have a new tattoo
parents: oooo very nice
Dad: MissFlee wanted a tattoo but I managed to talk her out of it *smug*
Mum: Erm. About that PapaFlee... she got it done on her birthday (some three months earlier)

Was quickly ignored for a week, then congratulated on finally breaking free of their reins. I've never looked back since!!
(Mon 14th Sep 2009, 22:01, More)
[read all their answers]