A day in the life

It's Halloween. Once upon another lifetime, this used to be kinda exciting, getting dressed up and partaking in some sort of Halloween related japes. Now we're all a bit older and it's a bit old hat, rousing from the dead, scaring people, avoiding guising teenagers etc. Some of my friends don't even bother being undead any more, it's just not like it used to be when we were newly dead. I mean, there's the whole choosing a look, planning what to do. With all the genuinely undead, also known as alive people, dressed up like witches and ghosts and tarts, it's relatively easy to slip in amongst a crowd, and if the make up's not so good, looking a bit pale is ok, you just fit right in.

Ah, I just received a message from the girls, it's all go after all. Marvellous, I've spent all day getting ready. Head? check. Flesh? check. Skin? check. Make up? check. Hair? Cloak? check. Ups, nearly forgot: feet. And shoes, mustn't forget shoes. Damned people that die of natural causes, they don't have to remember things so much, everything's just there with just the flesh and skin needing popped over the top.

I hope we don't just go for the graveyard again, that's really pretty boring. Just sitting there staring at passers by with empty eyes, it's deeply unsatisfying. And I'm not so keen on the revenge ones, it's a bit gruesome sometimes, especially if they go for the head. I'm a bit squeamish myself, which is a bit ironic considering what happened to me and all, but I just find it a bit distasteful. No, I prefer good old fashioned scaring, stepping out of the shadows and doing the staring thing right in someone's face is so much more fun than just sitting there staring away. Walking right up to someone silently then breathing down their neck usually gets the right level of spookiness, or maintaining a distance and matching them step for step, stopping when they stop, disappearing into the shadows, again and again, until the last time, not disappearing and laughing as I look into their eyes with my dead and glassy eyes. I like doing the appearing thing, maybe next year if the girls aren't up for it I'll join the majority and just go for the invisible march at midnight, the moment when all the undead walk together once more and all the world stands still as a chill passes over every living heart. And of course, there's always that moment when He appears, to add to our number and take away...




that breath you're holding.

The Time Traveller's Strife

The last couple of days I've been thinking of when I would most like to have lived. While it's hard to imagine living without all the things that I'm used to now, I like to think if I'd never known them, I'd never want for them. I daresay in 50/100/400 years, people will look back on us now and shudder to think how we could have managed without things they assume to be impossible to live without.

Of course, as long as you try to imagine what those things might be, you imagine things that are improved versions of what we have now. Or, involving things that we consider to be simply a matter of science paving the way forward, like living on the moon, which seems to be a popular vision of the future. (although you'd think they'd populate the uninhabitable parts of Earth first which would seem to be more achievable in the first place) Those that walked for miles and dreamed of an automated form of transport surely would not have conceived the idea of aeroplanes? And if you had never heard of a telephone, would you ever had imagined a mobile telephone? I wonder if children tried talking into cups with pieces of string before the telephone was invented, or if the invention of the telephone and the understanding of the process was necessary before anyone thought to try that. Maybe Alexander Graham Bell happened upon that as a child and thought to try it on a bigger scale?

The whole nostalgic idea of time travel into the past is a strange one, why would it be better? Is it a yearning for more simple things, and would that be better? I have long longed to have a Lost in Austen type experience, to find myself living in the world created by Jane Austen. Likewise, it would probably be very nice to live in the world of a Mills and Boon novel set in present day, which I strongly suspect would have as much bearing on real life as those books had on life at that time. Primarily, I think I would have been bored, I get bored enough now with plenty to occupy me. Reading is about the only thing that would interest me, and the selection of books would be drastically reduced from those available to me now. Needlework and singing aren't exactly pursuits I would ever choose to do, and I would end up writing endless diaries and going for endless walks. Oh...

I remember learning about the Second World War at school and from my grandparents and thinking how marvellous it all sounded, how exciting it must have been to have the war and rationing and what not and if only I'd been alive then. Which of course is utter nonsense, it must have been awful. Naturally I yearn to have a real Victorian Christmas, which would undoubtedly be more like the Christmases we have and less like Dickens.

You get all the time travel fiction: Back to the Future, Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes, 13 going on 30 and the book "Do You Remember the First Time?" by Jenny Colgan being the ones I can think of to hand. All of these feature someone from this time (or in Back to the Future's case, someone from 1985) that finds their modern self in the past for some reason. With the exception of Back to the Future (for who would want to see their parents getting together - ick) it makes me think, what would it be like for me?

So...

To go back to 1973 (Life on Mars), is a little unimaginable, it was before I was born, but many of the things featured on this programme seem sort of homely, reminding me of the 70s which I don't remember much of. That doesn't make any sense. I'll move on.

In Ashes to Ashes, the main character wakes up in 1981. I was 6 in 1981 and thought everything about being grown up was amazingly glamorous.
Interestingly, or not as the case may be, that's the same age my brother was in 1973, so maybe he feels the same about Life on Mars. Hmm. The 70s seem a bit less shiny and everyone/thing was tan, I can't see that you'd think it glamorous.
My mother worked for a magazine then and I longed to be like the people she worked with, or Diana of course. One of the advertising guys had an Audi Quattro which I think was probably the first car I ever lusted after. The character in Ashes to Ashes was exactly how I wanted to grow up and I actually think I'd like the opportunity to be an adult in that time, but in a nice gentle version that didn't shatter the illusions you have to be 6 to have.

13 going on 30 and "Do You Remember the First Time" are much the same as each other, the girl is suddenly back being 13/16 but with the wisdom (and hangups) that come with being 30ish. Which makes you immediately go on a big long (probably delayed) train of thought as to who you'd see, what you'd do, all the things you'd do differently and how marvellous it would be to have your adult self there, able to deal with all the things you did wrong at the time. But how frustrating to be a teenager and have all the restrictions of being teenage. Maybe not.

I've been reminded today of all the amazing people who are no longer living. I'd like to have been Mrs Samuel Clemens, or one of the great scientists of the 19th century, meeting in London to discuss (and steal) ideas with each other. Or Einstein's lab assistant. I wonder who from this time people would want to come back and meet. Who should I aspire to meet while we are both still living? I think I know what I appreciate about this time, but who should I appreciate?

Deja vu

See, I do this, have something going on that is entirely unrelated to anything online and yet I take it out online. Which makes me look like a nut as well as usually ending up offending someone lovely.

Why is it that we are always vile to the people we least would want to? We don't go and tell people who deserve it what we think of them. Oh no. Enter the innocent for the attack.

Like sheep

Explaining a bit for no reason: there were three reasons for my latest hissy fit, one was real and is now amended, two were imagined.

Due to the delightful delete function, most of my fits exist only in the memories of the most dedicated, but look at this, this, this and this. I despair sometimes, I really do.

This is going to hurt me to say, but here we go:

people are far nicer than I give them credit for.

There. Said it. Didn't die.

One day I'll find out what it is I'm looking for and can go look for it. Till then I'll bumble on regardless, bouncing off other lonely people and being generally grumpy.

Meantime: spot the progress, the girl grows up minutely.

No change of background! Hurrah and trumpeting giraffes!
I like this one, it's sort of me-ish.

Current cessation

Normal service may be resumed sometime.





No meaning, just the two best songs in the world

whimper

I shall be here. Virtually.

Things I have learned today

1) I am more manly than Richard Herring. Not only am I taller than him and definitely have bigger hands, but his blog today confesses to his lack of all interest in manly things, which roughly coincides with the things I do have an interest in. Sigh. I'm never going to be a princess.

2) Men are completely rubbish from a very early age, it makes them easy to love.

3) I am not a good hairdresser. Son one looks ok, son two now has a Take That era Robbie cut. Oops.

4) I LOVE this song: "Human" by The Killers. It was on the radio making me all warm and fuzzy, then Steve Wright helpfully announced that the song before was China Girls and the one after was Witchita Lineman - oh thanks, they're so obscure. If only all radios were DAB... So googling the words "are we human or are we dancer" to find out what it was, rewarded me with many, many blogs trying to answer that question. The basis seems to be "are we fallible or do we just dance through life" but I am quite sure that Brandon Flowers is trying to ascertain if he and his bandmates are in fact aliens from the planet Dance: born under the sign "vital", cold hands, travel around on knees, fond of train analogies.

Actually, I don't care. It's a top tune, it encapsulates everything I like in music into one song. Sounds kind of like good (Joan of Arc, for example) OMD, which isn't ok to admit to listening to (I do, sorry, I'm still in the 80s), but this is The Killers, I can listen to that in public and everything. I know fine well that as soon as my in-house personal critic gets in, I will be informed "it's shite", but for now, I shall bask in my song based happiness.

5) I HATE this song: "Build me up Buttercup" by The Foundations. It's vile, made more so by the fact that it gets churned out at "discos" and it's one of those tunes that everyone *has* to caterwaul along to. Ugh. It encapsulates everything I hate in music into one song.

6) In "Poetry in Motion" by Johnny Tillotson (that I also learned today, I thought it was by someone I'd heard of), motion is rhymed with locomotion, ocean, devotion and potion (but not emotion, which would have been my personal choice). Movement also rhymes with improvement. Not a song I'd ever listen to on purpose, but spectacular dedication to rhyme.

7) Saying "I don't like meat any more" actually means "please ply me with meat based lunches, I clearly don't know my own mind and if you just give me it, I'll eat it by mistake, won't notice and realise the error of my ways". Grr.

What's going on, or not

Due to the fact that they sneak it on after Spooks, I watched the News.

The joys.

Russell Brand/Jonathan Ross/Andrew Sachs. Idiots. Cruel. Why is everyone talking about it? The House of Lords? David Cameron? Me? Why? I don't get it. I don't get why some things get mega'd and others just ignored.

The American election is worrying. Obama says something that makes sense:
We need to invest in infrastructure.

The American public go:
Oh, we don't really want to SPEND money

McCain says:
Yeah, we need the infrastructure, but we're not going to pay for it
(which is illogical)

The American public go:
Yes! That's what we want to hear!


Uh huh. Brains connected anyone? No? Hello?



Then I spoilt myself and read the Scotsman headlines to see what happened in Scotland yesterday (it takes me a while to build up the tolerance to read these). Nothing, as usual. There's a big hooha about independent schools and charitable status, and then the inevitable comments after. Of course, this leads to the "private education is ethical and immoral" (I exaggerate nor paraphrase not) comments, which rouses a LOT of rantage from me.

I went to a private school. It was nice. I won't be sending my children to one.

I have never in my life thought that my school makes me one iota better than the next person, but since the day I started there, it has been assumed that I do. Why?

(Exception to this being when I lived in Lesser England and spoke to small minded people - which I am prepared to concede in my old age is not actually the norm for English people, some of them are remarkably nice, but y'know, I'm Scottish, I have to say "English" with a slightly bad taste - who did not believe I could have gone to a private school or surely I would have lost my common Scottish accent)

As a parent, schooling is kind of an important thing to think of, and so I tend to talk about it to other parents. Some have chosen to send their children to private school, and they're not being elitist about it, in the slightest, they simply want their children to get the best possible education. Listening to their reasoning, they sound perfectly sensible. There are those, and they shout loudest, who do it so they say their precious lovelies are at St Snots and so the lovelies can meet lovely snotty friends and marry into some lovely snotty family. But most people aren't like that and they do genuinely want their children to get the best from their education. That's the whole point of paying for something, is it not? Is private healthcare also elitist?

I won't be sending my boys to private school. Main reason: it costs about £9000 a year, per child. That's a whole salary. A big salary after tax. The other reason is that I ended up a dilettante, so it didn't do me a whole lot of good in the long run. Oh, and their semi-anarchist father would never allow it in a million years, he has almost forgiven me.

Years of conditioning make me reluctant to post this because I don't want to be considered elitist and unethical. Maybe it explains it all. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it doesn't matter.

Spooks spooks spooks

Today arrived, as expected, on schedule and everything, and as also expected it got to 9pm. Spooks was on. Series 7, episode 1. Huzzah!

The bad first:

La la la-ing is required to ignore the blatant political broadcasts they make every so often.
The use of technology is, erm, interesting.
Girlies are not good at fighting. Nope. Especially not little teeny tiny blondies.
They could have made the saddest event in television history (exaggeration? Moi?) a bit sadder. Really. I was expecting at least a small tear-ette to form in the corner of my eye, but no. Oh dead, really? Ah well.


But the good, oh the good:

It's Spooks.
The music and the way it all happens is damned exciting. I forget to breathe sometimes.
Richard Armitage. Very swooshy. (he spoke Russian. thwopp, thwopp)
They're not shy of killing anyone off, you don't know what's going to happen.
Harry Pearce is ace.
The men are manly, the villains are villainous and things are almost as they should be. Apart from the girls failing to be girlie at all it does good.

S'on again tomorrow. Watching the BBC3 first look one tonight would have resulted in being ultimately bereft tomorrow. So, willpower willed out for once. Woo.

Gratituous pic:

Words revisited

-26 able admitting better bigheaded boot brain case count cynicism days due eloquence expand feel flow gets gift happens hate hippy indeed instead interesting keep lesser life lost minute moment negative nice page paragraphs people point possible previously repetitive sense sentences something stands symbol useful vocabulary waffles warm words yes

created at TagCrowd.com

Words

Fla. I hate when I want to say something and the words just don't get in the right order and arrange themselves nicely on the page. Why won't they do that? Why do they persist in being wrong, and the same words always keep pushing their way past the more interesting words so you end up with something repetitive? It's not on.

I need word boot camp. Get my vocabulary into shape so the words just slot into useful sentences and paragraphs; off I will be able to go with a flow of eloquence instead of vomiting random words and symbols all over the page.

Word count: 2500
Sense count: 3
Point count: -26
Symbol count: 1543

(In case you wonder how it is possible to make negative points, that is where one waffles so much as to confuse a point previously made. Quite a gift).

I had a point? I lost it, hud on a wee minute while I find it...

Aha! Yes. I'm having a hippy moment, which happens periodically due to something that I am Not Admitting To*, which makes me feel warm and fuzzy for about two days until the cynicism comes lumbering back.

Hippy thought #7: instead of being angry at people for not needing me any more, it is nice to feel useful for having been part of their life when they did need me.

To expand on that requires a better brain than this one. Or indeed a lesser one then I could wax lyrical about hippy shit. As it stands, that's as good as it gets.


*because it's bigheaded, not because of anything interesting.

It's not easy being this thick

It's gone. That thing called intelligence. Common sense, simple understanding, I have none.

We have for example, the cooking of tonight's dinner. An experiment into making something curryish with vegetables that didn't contain peas. There is no problem with peas in their rightful place at the side of the plate or in a salad or something, but why do they pop up in rice or curry or general foodage? Anyway, I found a recipe for chicken korma, wildly improvised due to inability to think what vegetables went in a vegetable korma (the one from the Indian has fecking peas in it, and potato; the recipes I found online all had blimming peas, and beans) and also due to a lack of key ingredients. The dense moment occurred when I added a tablespoon of coriander leaf instead of a tablespoon of ground coriander. Too late, I remembered the fairly major difference between the two. Luckily, I'm a reasonable cook, so ended up with a tasty thing that bore no resemblance to what it was meant to, but had a distinctive Thai Green look/taste to it. Sigh. Thai Gobi Korma because cauliflower is always the answer.

Later, I thought I'd have a nice soak and read my book. All fine and dandy till I dropped Andrew Collins into the bath and am now stuck for two days or so till he dries out enough. Dammit. I haven't done that since I dropped Mary Queen of Scots in the bath, and I never went back to her in her puffed up stiffened state after, I moved on. That would be sad in this case.

I've got my coursework. I'm sitting here with my mouth slightly open just gawping at it like I'm a moron. I have no idea where to start thinking, never mind working out what to do.

Here's one of the parts (incidentally, part 2):

Examine the policy frameworks, government objectives with respect to your chosen topic area, legislation and typical existing practice. This would look at what national and local government say that they want to do for your chosen measure (and any contradictions in that policy); the relevant legislation (e.g. the Transport Act 2000); and how your topic is dealt with currently by “typical” transport professionals. Some critique of existing practice is also required.

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As if by magic, I prove the fact that I have no brain, by searching on Amazon for books, finding one that looked familiar and discovering I own it. Which helps. The title? "Transport Policy in Britain". I have previously been to the Shelf of Useful Books and didn't think that this one would possibly be useful for coursework on Transport Policy.

The country is crying out for engineers like me, just think what amazing things I can achieve.
Yes, it was going to be a road, but instead I built a swimming pool.
Oh. You wanted tracks for that train line? Yes, I suppose that should have been obvious.

It's not all bad

Some things are wonderful.

2,4,6,8

Ahh, the joys of driving. There's not a lot better than driving fast and listening to the sort of music noone else will let you listen to. I'm bored something silly by the CD I've got in the car, so I dug out one with driving anthems on it. Grand. Then I got in an 80s sort of mood (which is never tasteful) and stopped to change over to 80s Film Themes, which I picked up for about a quid somewhere and which has some truly terrible stuff interspersed with songs what make me smile, probably because I was too young to know better when I got to like them.

The ones that didn't get skipped and had me singing/bellowing along (and on occasion dancing as well as you can when driving a car, mostly involving head and shoulders) today were:

Bat out of Hell
Don't Stop me Now
Neverending Story
What a Feeling
O Yeah
Nothing's Gonna Stop us Now
Ghostbusters

I'm not entirely sure where this need came from, it's a little worrying. I think I got it out of my system although I forgot to change the CD over, so I'm pretty sure when my husband went out in my car just now he will have turned the engine on to get blasted by Rainbow. Ah well.

Experimentation

Angel of Joy

You're joyous, caring and full of life! You love bright colours and have a mischievous nature, you can also cause a bit of trouble if you wanted to but reframe and enjoy the littlest things in life! You're one of the brightest coloured people ever, and everyone loves you, you bring brightness into people's lives and you're beautiful, whether it's mentally, physically or both!






That's me. How nice. How uncannily accurate from a Facebook application, the writers must be psychic. They can't, sadly, spell; I had a pedantic attack at it.

I, incidentally, despite being mostly cynical about everything, like the whole idea of angels. It's all very nice.

Experimentation here as to sensibleness with red wine consumption. Red wine and I are not usually very compatible, it makes me all, well, stupid. It also makes me think I love, actually love, would marry sort of love, pretty much everyone.

Amount of wine consumed: 1 large glass

Back later...

Later:

Hmm. This is not right, I have had one bottle of rather potent red wine, the first drink I have had other than a sniff of red wine last week, in FOUR MONTHS. I should be far, far more incapable. Instead I'm just feeling a bit blue and a bit of an oaf for alienating just about everyone.

Don't cry. Not pretty.

For no good reason, I just watched Halloween, which (unsurprisingly) I have not seen before. Whatalotofcack. Then I started to watch Jonathan Ross that was presumably repeated from last night, saw Daniel Craig (who has a very nice name) being all sort of dad-ly and despaired of my normal self. And the clocks went back and I didn't see the cool clock do it. Grr. It's ace, it winds forward 11 hours and I wasn't looking.

So, focus on current object of lust: the phone. Further investigations reveal that probably I do need an iPhone after all (and have now discovered how to write it). What I want it to do, it does best. Namely maps, email and iPlayer (is that spelt like that as well?).

They have them in both O2 shops and Carphone Warehouse. Sitting there. Out to touch. Noone thinks you're bonkers if you stroke it. Amazing. Quite lovely in fact. I typed a bit, it's astounding. How can a tiny little onscreen keyboard pick up your typing so well? Admittedly, I'm a bit handy with my thumbs due to being a bit gadget happy, but still, this was incredible. And maps, cool as. All superlative-d out now. Nokia have slightly confused the issue by promising the 5800, which looks pretty swish and Nokia-y. But I think i-player will swing it, and so the iPhone it will probably be. Although neither shop remotely tried to sell it to me today, which was disturbing. Decision re: camera - get a camera instead of the phone thing, the best camera phone is still crap compared to a camera. So birthday demandations consist of "that camera please", which I appear to be paying for myself, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

God, I bore myself sometimes. What are you doing here?

Amount of wine consumed: 1 bottle. It was very nice.

Why you are your own best friend

You always know what you're talking about.
You always remember your birthday, know exactly what you'd like and appreciate anything you get yourself.
If you watch a film with yourself, you always see the one you'd like to see.
You always know when you're being funny, and always see the joke.
You are always the first person to know when something happens to you.
You can't keep any secrets from yourself, but if it's important to you to keep something quiet, you'll never say a word.
You're always there, no matter what.
You always understand the justification for being kind of crap.
You are always interested in what you have to say.
You are brutally honest about your appearance.

and like all good friends...

sometimes you could really strangle yourself.

News?

Ok, it's getting pretty winter-y here. Where oh where is my flu pandemic warning? Surely somewhere a bird died and we could freak out about it? Or maybe some old people died relatively soon after some other old people dying?

And have all the terrorists given up? Don't we care about them any more? Are they just sitting back and watching us cock up all by ourselves?

I get the news mostly by osmosis, I don't actively seek out news, but it seeps in anyway. At present there seems to be two things happening:

1) The global financial crisis
2) Sarah Palin exists

The first of these, I'm bored of it, ok. I have no idea in the slightest what the figures mean when they say the FTSE is down 180 points. Up means things are selling for more and down means things are selling for less, yes? No? Got it wrong? Ask Google...

Never google "FTSE index". I asked Wiki. My brain hurts now.

Obviously they don't want you to understand, they want you to be baffled and in awe of the clever people who tell you what's happening. Even Evan Davis doesn't understand it any more. Well, I think that's what he's saying here.

And having confused the hell out of everyone, now they're almost mentioning the R word. Well, there's a shocker. The banks all go tits up and it results in a recession. Who'd have thought that? It's going to happen, surmising and doom mongering isn't going to change it. Up one day - woo! all over! lets buy another house!, then down the next - we're all going to be begging on the streets by next Christmas!

And on other news: Sarah Palin's an astonishingly punchable person. Every single time I hear what she thinks, I cringe. Every single time I see the headline "Palin Campaign" I wonder what Michael's doing. I can't wait for Obama to win and in the hopefully unlikely event that he doesn't, I am never turning the television on again. I don't want to know what happens next.

Amidst wanting to throw things generally at Mr Hislop, 2 mins 40 seconds in is the most vomit inducing TV moment for a long time:

When will I, will I be grown up?

This is getting ridiculous.

What I am reading: Andrew Collins' biographies
Books added to wishlist: Mitford ones as recommended by Andrew Collins
What I am watching: The Wire. Because Andrew Collins said so
What I am listening to: Collings and Herrin podcasts

What next? Waiting for him to say what he's going to eat before I make any meals?

I'm sure I used to have my own mind.

Sense of humour failure

Today I received "9 Things I Hate About Everyone" by email. I'm in a pedantic mood, so I'm going to answer on behalf of Everyone:

• People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I know where my watch is pal, where the hell is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the toilet is?

I have only ever witnessed this between people who don't speak the same language. It helps to use visual clues. Last time this happened to me was in France and I helpfully showed him my watch. Which is ok, except I supposedly speak French. Anyway.

• People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire room for the T..V.. remote because they refuse to walk to the T.V. and change the channel manually.

Except the remote does things that you can't do without it. Which is quite probably the reason you want it. And it might be in the bin/dog/fridge, you need to check.

• When people say 'Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too'. Damn right! What good is cake if you can't eat it?

It's a saying. If you eat it, you don't have it any more. Not complicated.

• When people say 'it's always the last place you look'. Of course it is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they? Gonna Kick their asses!

This is a particular bugbear. Obviously you don't keep looking, but I take it to mean that it's in the last place you'd think of, ie you look everywhere else first, thus making the place it is, the last place. Maybe it only works if you physically make a list, then you could say "it was in the penultimate place I looked". I might start saying that just to make a point.

• When people say while watching a film 'did you see that?'. No Loser, I paid $12 to come to the cinema and stare at the damn floor.

That's a way of saying "I want to comment on that" not a literal question.

• People who ask 'Can I ask you a question?'.... Didn't really give me a choice there, did ya sunshine?

Well, that's an innocuous question that can be answered yes or no. The question still to be posed is likely to be awkward.

• When something is 'new and improved!'. Which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it, couldn't be new.

You can't get a new version?

• When people say 'life is short'. What the hell?? Life is the longest damn thing anyone ever does!! What can you do that's longer?

It's a saying again. Means you have to bear in mind it's finite.

• When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks 'Has the bus come yet?'. If the bus came would I be standing here, dumbass?

All very well, but occasionally bus stops have more than one bus that stops there. The person may have just missed the bus themselves. Valid question.

• 
  

So... Having got that out of the way, I feel compelled to compile.

8 things I hate about everyone, because I can only think of 8, and 9 is an arbitrary number anyway:

• People who talk/eat/laugh at the wrong bits/clap at any bit when watching a film/act/gig.
• People who have the beeps turned on and who text incessantly on the train. The beeps do nothing, there's a massive hint that you've pressed a button when a character appears on screen.
• People who complain about a programme they haven't watched because they thought it sounded offensive.
• When people go on about the "last place you look" thing
• People who think that using English properly is anal and uptight. There/their/they're: not difficult. Its/it's: not difficult. Have/of: nothing like each other.
• People that sit next to you on the train when there's plenty of empty seats.
• The way virtually everyone pronounces "controversy". It's con-trov-ersy. Not contro-versy. Someone that writes about words and I normally worship (which applies to just about everyone that cares about words and says so) has the same bugbear the other way round. I can't remember who it is, I think it might be John Humphreys.
• People who criticise you for doing something differently to the way they imagine they'd do it, despite having never attempting it in their life.

No no no no

No no no no.
No. Nein. Non. Tsaa.

Here I am, happily watching Heroes and taking it all as it comes: garbage, excitement, pretty people and... what the duck is THAT??? WHAT HAVE THEY DONE???

They've geekified the villain.

And boy, did they geekify him. Lovely daddy Gabriel. What??????????? That was akin to Darth Vader taking off his mask and being Noddy Holder doing "It's Chriiiiiiiiissstmas!". Ugh. I will be traumatised by this moment for ever more, I will never again be able to properly appreciate badness in a bloke for fear of the geekifying potential of four years time.

I used to be an evil killer, but I got better. Please. Just, no. Just like sappy wet people don't become strong and vengeful after a trauma (they become sappier and wetter), evil doesn't do that. Even if it's a fake thing to garner favour, too geeky. Way too geeky*.

Ok, maybe the story was quite good tonight (ooh, Matt/Daphne/Molly/baby, aww) and I'm liking Peter's "hunger" (Prrrrrr) but I will NEVER forgive them** for the geek moment.

No, Sylar, no! Be bad more!

* in real life, which this isn't, I am irresistibly drawn to geeks. Villains must remain villainous to counterbalance this.
**them = the writers, who care deeply and passionately what I think, and who wouldn't despair at the fact that the whole heroes/villains thing is passing me by in the name of aesthetics.

Watching and not buying

I'm still watching the Wire, so I've not watched much else this week; watching TV for more than an hour is unlikely in any day. It's really good, I'm torn between being annoyed that I completely missed it, and happy that I've got it all to watch. I'm a bit intrigued as to where they go with it for 5 series but am determined to just watch and not find out. I did look at the website to find out who everyone was, because they didn't use names much. They have now (by episode 8, watched last night) fleshed out more of the characters and I'm getting the hang of who's who outwith the main characters.

I've still to watch Buzzcocks and Merlin from last week and there's about 100 things to catch up on the PVR, but never mind. New old stuff abounds.

Spooks series 7 not only starts on Monday 27th, but episode 2 is on Tuesday 28th (then going to a regular time of 9pm Mondays for the rest of the series). Marvellous. New Radio Times confirms that it is actually on in Scotland on the right days, but it does give away a rather large spoiler by crediting Jo in the cast list. Unless there's a flashback, but still. Richard Armitage is looking splendidly brooding in shots of the introductory scenes of Lucas North in Moscow but I'm still not happy at the impending demise of Adam. I-player will apparently reshow each episode for the duration of the series, which is good in case of memory/hardware failure.

Yes, spoilers. If the Radio Times can do it, I can do it.

Oh, I won £1,000,000 this morning. Virtual money, sadly, but it was still nice. Virtual purchases required, not sure where to buy the virtual house or which virtual car to have.

Phones. Phones. Phones. I've gone off the i-phone (fickle as a fickler) based on the fact that it has a 2 mega pixel camera, that it doesn't do bluetooth properly, that is can't send photomessages and the fact that Steve Jobs is a tool. As far as I can tell the i-phone is primarily an ipod, and I have little use for an ipod just now given that I'm usually in the house and can use the hifi or tv to listen/watch as required.

The situation as it stands is thus:

I hate my current phone, a Samsung G600. It has a 5MP camera, which is rubbish. This is the thing I probably use my phone for most. I hate having mediocre pictures, capturing the moment is all very well but it would be nice if the capture actually looked like the moment. The other thing I do a lot with my phone is text, and it's rubbish at that as well. I previously had a Samsung D600 which was really good, until it just died one day and it didn't have the same text nonsense. I can't add most symbols, I can't figure it out for the life of me, it keeps losing words from the custom dictionary - I have added "Morag" and "xxx" a million times, saying as how I obviously use those a fair bit. Oh and it's WAY too quiet, I virtually never hear when I get a text message, so it has to live in my pocket and is all scratched as a result.

I liked my previous phone, a Nokia N73, I only changed that to get shot of 3, cretins that they are. I like Nokia, I liked the OS and the active desktop, I liked the 3.2MP camera, I liked the way it was to use and text on. I didn't like what it looked like, but I could live with that.

My Palm has been written off, due to complete ineptitude by PC World, and I have a refund. So I'm looking to replace a PDA as well. I used that for wifi/email/quick lookup of Yell etc, and as an organiser for addresses and appointments, as well as storage for photos and as an MP3 player on the rare occasion I needed one. So, a phone has to be good at all that, and no, phones usually aren't good address holders. The i-phone is a really good PDA, does have wifi and so goes back up with a chance.

The Nokia N95 pretty much meets the bill, being a Nokia as well is a huge plus. But there's new phones out that have 8MP cameras and that is a huge huge factor. I've got the money back for my Palm and I'm slightly reluctant to losethe money in the shopping fund (although I should) because I Never Get Stuff and I would dearly love to just be flippantly extravagant for the sake of it.

Contenders are therefore:

Apple i-phone 3G
Nokia N95 8Gb, the current forerunner but BORING
LG KC910, also known as Renoir, which is a stonking phone
Samsung Omnia, very nice, but a bit scared off Samsung

Opinions, pls??

Pictures instead of words

I was just looking at me photos and these are me favourites of those that I've taken, that I've put on flickr and can access easily...
(they're all old and they're all sea):

Over the cliffs and stacks, Shetland.

Actually over the cliff

An Orkney sunset

After the storm, Orkney

View from a cliff, Ibiza

Who or what I am

This is weird. I'm turning into someone that's completely alien to the person I was until very recently.

Most noticeably, why am I turning into a vegetarian? Why? How has this happened? How can I go for 32.5 years happily eating everything that doesn't look like a pet and is conventionally edible, then suddenly bam, I don't like meat? That does not make sense. Fish I've been struggling with for a while, both from the point of view of fish rights (why is it less cruel to kill a fish?) and from the fact that it suddenly started to taste all fleshy, then bacon suddenly became vile. My mum was talking about lamb, and there is No Way on this planet I'd eat it. Tonight I had a expensive and perfectly cooked piece of roast beef for dinner, nearly gagged when I was carving it, and had to force it down, only because it was expensive and I'm having palpitations at imagined lack of iron. That pretty much leaves chicken and turkey which I fear have a very limited life on my menu. All very nice and all, but I never do anything unless I do it with boundless enthusiasm and I live with a vegetable hating carnivore. And it's a little disturbing, I was a fairly gung ho omnivore until very recently and I am not the sort of person that follows popular trends, the fact that it's more common now thanks to Hugh Furrily-Witteringand Jamie Oliver is usually precisely the thing that sends me off to the abattoir (so to speak).

Having never disliked men in any way shape or form since before I can remember, today I have turned into a man hater. This is the singularly most unlikely thing ever to happen to me, seriously. Prior to today I was much more into silencing feminists, now I'm having these disturbingly feminist-ish thoughts. No reason either, if I'd been unceremoniously dumped or something, that would possibly explain it, but no, I just have a new personality. Not one that hates men to the extent of liking women I may add. Just to clarify.

In addition to being unable to write, I appear to also have forgotten how to read. I can't do it. This is unfortunate and may well severely interfere with my studies, which won't matter in the fullness of time, I'll no doubt wake up tomorrow with a passion for gardening and won't care tuppence about transport any more.

My imagination, paranoia and hypochondria are still intact and functioning as normal, there's still a little of me in here.

Especially for you

Christmas is nice. It's about nice things. It's pretty, it's just nice.

I like it. I will mention it.

Lots and lots and lots.





Christmas lights make everything pretty. Buying Christmas presents, wrapping them up to look decorative and seeing someone open a present they want is marvellous. Even seeing people is nice at Christmas time.


Things have to be organised, people have to have strops and be pacified, plans have to be made. It's not too early.

It's never too early.

I will start in June next year.

I lied

Spooks is on at 9pm on Monday 27th October 2008.

THAT is definitely nice AND interesting.

odammit. I was going to post a lovely picture of Richard Armitage just to cheer myself up but I remembermembermembered that I'm not groupifying any more. Sigh. What's a girl to do with her time?

sleep
work
tidy
cook
expand the mind of your children

Oh shut up inner voice of no fun, I'm sick of you.

buy lipsticks

Better, carry on...

read books not necessarily written by attractive men

I'm trying not to engroupie, remember? They have nicer covers.

never judge a book by its cover

Oh look, wheesht, you're supposed to judge books by their covers, that's what the cover's for.

you should really be asleep instead of talking to yourself

Aye. You're right there.

and you can get that ceiling painted in the morning as well. Lazy sloth.

I don't have to listen to this. I don't.

oops

I don't have anything nice to say. Or interesting. Yet I'm typing.

why why why why why why why why why?

sniff

A challenge

In this, the 4th post of today, I am making a challenge to myself:

1) no comments
2) email instead of blog a bit, I took my initial promise TOO far
3) no being a groupie
4) do, instead of think
5) remembermembermember what a womblewomblewomble I am

Virginal stupidity

Good god, is it really so hard to close a credit card? I paid off my Virgin (MBNA) card one month ago. I overpaid it because they're bound to find some elusive fee from 1982 and so I've been in credit for a month. I still can't close it. They can't tell me what my interest payment will be (not very much, you'd think) even though today's the day I was promised. No, obviously they meant midnight tonight, which is classed as being tomorrow by anyone outside of MBNA. Of course, I can't close it and sort out payments after, because they don't know what will happen, I might suddenly have an urge to put something on it. I have visions of myself paying 50p per month to them till the end of time (they round up interest to 50p).

I recently closed an account with M & S. This was one I actually paid off and "closed" in 2004. Really, 2004. I've written to them and stropped at them and lo and behold, just after clearing another card last month, I got a nice statement from M & S. Again, trouble closing it even though it's been empty for 4 years, in case there were any outstanding transactions.

Next won't actually close any accounts, they like to leave it frozen in case you change your mind. That supposedly went in 2004 as well, but they refused to actually close it, I'm sure I'm still a customer even though I assured them there is nothing on this earth that would change my mind.

Egg are easy. They let you close accounts, but they would, wouldn't they? Happy day. I owe them 50p on my last direct debit and then it's all gone. Bye bye.

Christmas is going to be frugal. I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to cope paying for things with real money. Or I could always use my Virgin card. If only they thought of that...

Spam spam spam spam

What promises await me in my spam folder! I mean, really, if I wanted anything really (especially if I change my mind about my sexuality), it's here.

Woo!

Astonishingly, all I have to do for any of these is click on a link. The same link. The one that is
http://stateez.com/tr.php?XXXXXX+myemailaddress

Oh wait. They're marked as spam. They're unconvincing. The address is the same. Something's not quite right here...

****

Out of curiosity, I googled "stateez" just to see what came up and found a whole pile of people saying "this is the message I received, do you think it's suspect?" Like loads of people.

Sigh.
1) If you have to ask, it's suspect.
2) people don't email you out of the blue and give you free stuff. They just don't.

2am

2am is a time for reflection, for insomnia, for depressing negativity, for regret, for longing, for dreams, for planning.

It is not a time for laughing like a lunatic.

People should show more consideration before being funny.

Huh.

Ring-a-ling, hear them sing

I've been tasked with finding a Christmas night for my book club. Mostly because I'm Little Miss Christmas and enforce yuletide jollity on all (and retrospectively get appreciated, I may add), but also because I'm a sad git and I really miss work nights out. My selective memory is forgetting that good work nights out were never the Christmas ones (except maybe spontaneous unofficial ones), but that is Beside The Point.

Problems so far:

1) We're in Kirkcaldy. This is not party central of the world.
2) Huge mix of ages. I'm the youngest (as usual; I wonder when I will ever reach an age when this isn't the case?), then there's most ages up to 70/80(??), including my mother at 68. Different tastes, different willingness to travel afar/be adventurous/spend money.
3) My mother. To many this would mean "oh no, I don't want my mother to see what I get up to when I'm drunk", to me this means the exact opposite.

So, ideas being pondered include the pantomime (over my dead body), a Santa's party (over my unconscious and mutilated body), dinner at the local hotels or at someone's house, or going to the Edinburgh Christmas market (my spiritual home), having dinner somewhere nice and doing something Christmassy that's on in Edinburgh.

Didn't get anywhere with this, but on a search for Something Christmassy that's on in Edinburgh, I found that the Scottish Ballet are performing Sleeping Beauty in Glasgow. Which wasn't all that helpful at all, but I noted with interest that they're going to Edinburgh in January. Well, hopefully, I notice their sponsor, which means they may be performing in the street in last year's costumes.

January, January, January. I love things that are on in January. I have an unfortunate birthday tucked in just after Christmas/New Year/kids' birthday time, which depresses me a little more each year, not because of the passing years (still always the youngest) but because of its insignificance - which I don't personally agree with, I find it quite significant. But ho! Sleeping Beauty is on! I can organise a trip to see that, and slip in a wee birthdayness and have a Grand Night Out. A man free night out, and autoexcluding the less pretentious of my comrades, but still. We can have tapas and wine! And more wine! I remember how much I like wine!

Christmas: it's all about me really. And my birthday. La la la la la la la la la la*


*that's the la la la's from "I am a Rock", which may or may not actually be lai lai lai's.

Devoid of comment

Nothing to see here, why not go to Myspace instead?

The voice

Periodically you'll be bumbling along, quite the thing, just being. Suddenly a realisation hits you, a voice inside your head, and just like that, things feel quite different.

I'm sick of my inner voice, it's a whinging git. All it ever says is "you're making an idiot of yourself. Stop what you're doing immediately". Why can't it say "my, your hair's looking nice today" or "that was clever, well done". Why all the negativity?

I mean, yeah, scuffing out the rhythm of Sunny Afternoon may make me look a little strange sidling up and down the aisles of B and Q, but the voice could, say, admire my sense of rhythm. No, no, it mocks me as usual.

Dammit voice, what do you want?

Oh I see. I'll get my coat.

Desiring

Want. Want. Want. So beautiful, shiny and sleek and black and nifty and lovely. And, oh, so very desirable. I desire. I really desire, toe curlingly so.

Just look. The probable new love of my life. Look. It's beautiful. A thing to behold.
Hunger, dribble, drool, dleugh...

Want it: GPS
Hate it: 2MP camera
Want it: Wifi
Hate it: Vista compatibility doubtful
Want it:Unlimited data and email
Hate it: no picture messaging
Want it: it's gorgeous
Want it
Want it want it want it.

Notes:

1 Not wanton extravagance, insurance replacement and £86 less than what it replaces, so costs me less than nothing. I'm also going to wait till my existing contract runs out in December. Not get it tomorrow like I want to. Honest.

2 Last time I felt like this was towards my car, before I got to know it. I am very shallow and swayed by good looks.

3 I'm not actually all that materialistic. Just in the face of extreme desirability. This is the embodiment of all I have ever wanted in a gadget and I can afford it. I can. It's going to be mine. It's saving me money you know. Sensible really.

Financial revelations

It would seem that the way to save money during the credit crumble is to take the following steps:

stop using taxis unless essential
stop using your car where possible
stop buying overpriced coffees
drink tap water instead of bottled water
colour your hair at home
buy ingredients and cook from scratch
use leftovers to make another meal
invite friends round instead of going out
have a cheaper holiday, or stay at home
take a packed lunch to work...

Wait.
Stop!
That's the way to save money? Stopping spending money where it's not necessary? My goodness! If only people knew this! All this time they thought they didn't have to bother because most of that was simply good for the environment, and it transpires it could save them money too?

>insert pious and smug observations<

Then you get the financial tips, full of unbelievable clever ideas about understanding your finances and paying off debts. Because people don't do that anyway? Oh, right. I see. Affordability? Anything there?

Top tip: start saving!

Erm. Put your money in a savings account? What money? Where?

>insert angry and embittered comments about the government, the previous government and Very Greedy People<

Heroes

Well, last week's Heroes (episode 2) was diabolically bad, this week's (episode 3, amazingly) was fab. Sylar is immensely cool, I had a minor coronary at the sight of him in a suit, and another when he pretended to be FBI. Although I can't take sides between him and Noah Bennet, he's pretty cool as well. No, Sylar wins, he's ace, the best character of them all. Maybe that's because he can act, but that would suggest the rest of them couldn't. No.

Yes, fab, ace and cool. I don't care.

And there's a new paint-future-mad-eye bloke! Ace! And he's made Parkman go all mad eyed with his magic headphones! I still don't like bad Peter though and I'm not all that enamoured with new-Nikki. The scenes with Hiro and Daphne are annoying in their silliness, I'm not sure if that's bad writing or bad acting. Meredith is wackily quite good and I'd like to see her smack Claire's saintly adoptive mother.

Nathan's getting right into his religion though, he's got all the way to page 1 of the bible. I'm not sure, but I reckon I'd give the bible at least a quick scannie before signing up.

Madness and me me me me me me meme.

Deleted, undeleted, deleted, undeleted. I'm going mad at the moment, ok? I'm not being mad at your house so it's not all bad.

Mostly written earlier, before the delete/relete thing:

Right, memes. The internet ones. Most people think these are rubbish, I like them. I like answering quizzes (today I am apparently sexy instead of glamorous or gorgeous which makes me want to snarl a bit, I am also Tom Sawyer which is ok). I also like getting a snapshot of inside people's heads, I don't know most people whose blogs I read very well, so it's nice to know obscure stuff. Simple conversation doesn't usually involve banal facts, and I like banal facts.

I did one last week, 20 questions, which took me quite a lot of searching to find one that wasn't completely and utterly inane, "who would you most like to sit next to in maths?" and "who do you want to say something to" not being my kind of thing. I deleted it though, because I felt all silly and remembered all the scathing comments of old. And that's what I do, I regret what I say so often, it's cathartic to have a delete function.

Anyways. I'm copying this one from someone clever so it's ok.

Five Things

10 Years Ago I was:
working as a waitress in a cocktail bar... no wait, that wasn't me.

• a new graduate
• working in the best job I've ever had (mostly data entry, with the coolest colleagues on earth)
• thin
• living on my own in my mother's house
• ambitious

Five Things On My To-Do List Today:

• get dressed
• eat something
• stop blogging
• smile
• tidy up

Five Snacks I Enjoy:

• kettle chips
• chilli spiced seeds
• toast
• olives
• nuts

Five Places I have Lived:

• Edinburgh
• Nigeria
• Fife
• Worcester
• Aberdeen

Five Jobs I Have Had:
working as a wait... no, sorry, not me again

• Ordnance Survey Map Auditor
• Biomedical Scientist
• Road Traffic Regulations Clerk
• Dilettante
• Cervical Cytologist
  

Five Pet Peeves:

• Stupid people that think they know everything and tell you so often
• Drivers that simply don't know or care about the rules of the road or how to manoeuvre a car
• My own slothfulness
• Job interviews.
• People rushing, and especially rushing me, when there are no time constraints.

Five Things That Bring Me Joy:

• My boys
• Beautiful skies
• Swimming in the sea
• Easy, interesting conversation
• Cuddles for the sake of it

Bloggage

To blog:
To write down thoughts, to make them readable for those that might like your thoughts, to find like minded folk.

In theory.

In actuality:
A place for people to judge, to take offence where amusement is intended, to take amusement where empathy was intended and for general superiority over the person you may or may not know because anyone can hide on the net.

Or not, if they're not very clever.

I don't need to have virtual people I don't know confirming all the fears I have about myself. I've been told I'm offensive, not amusing enough, not clever enough, not entertaining enough and not a good enough writer.

It's a blog. Just a blog. I'm not trying to make friends (because people generally suck), write a masterpiece, gain notoriety or be the official voice of blogdom. I just write down what I think. Which happens often, because I think a lot and am in the house bored out of my skull or not asleep when everyone else is. I don't actually want the thought police judging what I think, if that's all right with people. If you don't like it, here's a thought: don't read it. If I comment crap on your blog/website, then feel free to chastise, but this is mine.

What Wiki says:

Personal Blogs

The personal blog, an ongoing diary or commentary by an individual, is the traditional, most common blog. Personal bloggers usually take pride in their blog posts, even if their blog is never read by anyone but them. Blogs often become more than a way to just communicate; they become a way to reflect on life or works of art. Blogging can have a sentimental quality.

I'm not going to stop writing (no, really), although I've got a bit delete happy due to being a mentalist after midnight, but I'd appreciate if the critical could just bugger off and leave me to my thoughts. They're not written for you, they're written for me and occasionally partially for the people that are nice and don't just sneer in the background. I'm not very happy and I write utter drivel just cause it's in my head.

For the record, some people are very nice and I'm sorry for being a tit. I'll grow up one day, or get a job, or something.

The Wire

Well, I missed this completely so am extremely late, 6 years I believe, in commenting. But if "he" says it's good, it must be good, so I'm watching it now. (I'm usually far more fickle, I'll move on eventually).
Season 1, episode 3 so far.

It is good, extremely so and I'm not going to reduce it to platitudes. It's full of excellent lines that you think "I must remember that" (but don't) and pretty much every character is well written and acted. Very impressed.

This scene from the third episode is genius:

Fizz fizz boing boing

Spooks (Spoks? Why can't I type?) series 7 is to be broadcast the week commencing 25 October. Huzzah! That's a maximum of 18 days away. If it's on Tuesdays then that will be 28th October, which is TWO WEEKS TOMORROW.



Except, episode two is dealing with the repercussions of an explosion and Rupert Penry Jones, who is definitely leaving, is not credited. That's just... sob!

But, Richard Armitage... the nicest cure for insomnia:




dribble.

Every Little Helps

I can't type without errors, I can't think coherently. My brain, which I apparently now want to call Brian, is decaying way too fast.

I blame Tesco. They are evil. Lookee what they're doing now:



If you can't see the small print, it says "Aldi price 75p" or rather "we're undercutting Aldi because we're Tesco and we run the world. Begone cheap shops, we're doing this so the greedy fat consumer can feel good about pennypinching and still be snobby about where they shop".

Every Little (shop going bust) Helps Tesco.

Things that used to be easy #76: eating

Time: 9am
Location:kitchen

First attempt:
coronation chicken sandwich
aborted before assembly on conclusion that chicken was too shiny and clearly off
(chicken in bin)

Second attempt:
cheese sandwich
aborted after assembly on conclusion bread was stale
(sandwich in bin)

Third attempt:
toasted buttery with ham and cheese
aborted immediately after the commencement of eating on conclusion not hungry
(children got bonus breakfast)

Final attempt:
cup of coffee
successfully assembled and consumed
(yay)

være knotten

I am having a moment. It looks like Russia, but less hairy.

some words:

cohort
stalker
mushroom
Mark E Smith and the Mitford sisters
Christmas
ineptitude
email
Gastolph the Intrepid
pizza
page 10
snip
rarr

And that, I think it safe to say, pretty much sums it up.

O happy day

I am having a suspiciously Good Day today, all is not right in the world.

I have lovely friends and am a twonk for thinking otherwise, and I got shedloads of stuff in the mail. And I took a picture of a suspiciously phallic mushroom.

it doesn't take much.

I'm in the huff at the absence of comments though. Me. Me. Me. Me. Notice me. More than that.

no, that doesn't take much either.

Well, I'm going to go and read a shiny new book or four...

Strangers

Today I was standing on Dunfermline High Street, which quite possibly isn't called Dunfermline High Street, but it's the main street and it's in Dunfermline so I'm going with that and may approach the council to make it official if it's not already called that. This is like virtually any other High Street, pedestrianised and plenty wide enough to pass people on.

So, while standing (still) next to the cash machine my friend was using, I didn't exactly expect to be knocked off my feet by someone walking straight into me. Basic sense dictates that if someone is standing in a space, you can't actually walk through that particular space without causing some sort of disruption. But still, I got walked straight into, glowered at and then something incomprehensible was muttered at me that was quite definitely not "sorry". Because I have manners, I automatically said sorry myself, because that's what normal people do upon colliding with someone regardless of blame, and got rewarded with a look of utter disgust at the audacity of thinking that a mere apology could compensate for my being in their path.

I can only assume that the person in question had walked that exact line every day at that time for 45 years and did not expect to find someone blocking their progress. Understandable for them to be upset really, I'm not even from Dunfermline, and there I was, waltzing in, standing on their pavement, using their air etc. I am actually quite ashamed now.

Phil-oafs-ophy, or, the philosopy of an oaf

I've moved from contrite to hurt, which isn't very pretty.

I do wonder when people assume that I am being nasty if my attempts to be nice to people fail miserably and actually I'm constantly nasty. It happens more frequently than I'm comfortable with, so maybe I'm really a nasty person.

Hmm. You'd think I could enjoy it more if I was actually nasty.

I believe that people who experience a certain type of treatment at the hands of different people must have something within them that makes those people respond like that. The complaint "men are all the same" should probably read "men always treat me in the same manner", suggesting that the complainer acts the same themselves and invokes the same responses. People who are repeatedly victims must in some way display their tendency to be victims in order for the perpetrator to identify them. And those that fail to engage with their friends maybe shouldn't be surprised when the friends think them uncaring and treat them accordingly.

[that's me not engaging by the way, just for the record]

All a little depressing, taking responsibility for the bad stuff all to yourself. Even if you could identify what it was, to act differently would be to change the person you are, possibly even to be fake. Or is fake so bad? Making like you're happy when you're not invariably lifts your mood; donning a suit of confidence makes you feel more confident. If we act like the person we want to be, can we become that person? We can easily become the negative person we fear we might be, the positive way round needs a little more work.

I don't think it's ever pleasant to actually see yourself through others' eyes, stripping you bare of your delusions. But maybe we need to sometimes, just to try and get it all a little more right.

Never write blog entries when upset

I think it unrealistic to say I will never write an entry here again. I can't help it, the children simply don't care what I have to say and I am concerned if I don't say anything, my brain will actually turn off and all I'll be able to think about will be Teletubbies.

I am deeply sorry for offending someone I think highly of. My turn of phrase is unfortunate and I often cause offence when I'm trying to be amusing. I have deleted the entry, offered my apologies and made this much less public. Further apologies to the two people subjected to the hissy fit goodbye. One of them is very familiar with this :-)

For now... a sabbatical and a bold attempt to reengage with "real" people rather than people I wish I was like.

Vileness, thy will be banished

Sometimes when I'm sat on the sofa, I get all comfy and end up staring at some guff on the TV just because it's easier than moving. Tonight this brought me "Alesha - Look But Don't Touch", the premise of which was that young girls have a flawed body image because of retouching. So, the not-very-ugly Alesha Dixon went off to find a magazine that was prepared to put an untouched picture of her on the cover.

She was apparently in Mis-Teeq and on Strictly Come Dancing so that explains why I didn't know who she is.

She looked at the whole business of airbrushing, watched a highly unethical operation where an 18 year old anorexic got a boob job (too young, too thin: may I suggest you eat some pies my dear? Then you shall grow breasts when you grow up) and talked to some grunt about getting some airbrushed photos done which would apparently increase her confidence for her wedding - presumably she was going to superimpose the airbrushed picture over her regular mooselike face?

Look at me, I'm saying airbrushing. Retouching, my mistake. How very 1980s of me.

Anyway, the conclusion was that girls look much better natural, if you look like Alesha Dixon.
I don't personally see how having a girl who is that pretty, that thin, carefully lit and fully made up is all that different from one who is actually retouched. You could argue that it is unnatural to use models or make up.

But...

I don't want to look at ugly people. I like looking at beautiful people, I don't want some munter putting me off my breakfast. I don't believe that people are flawless or that if I use Dior I will suddenly cease to have under eye shadows. It's just aesthetics. I expect chefs to make delicious food, I don't go home and sob for my inability to cook as well as Nick Nairn any more than I'm going to lose sleep over not being as pretty as Alesha.

Really the point should be about exterminating people who are stupid enough to believe they can look like a retouched supermodel. Or just exterminating stupid people for a laugh.

Repetition

Every time I see the notice "Heavy Plant Crossing" I imagine a cartoon I saw once upon a long time ago of a giant plant crossing the road.

Like this:














except I picture a giant rubber plant.

Another thing I do, every single time, is to think of Titanic when I fill the ice cube tray with water. You know the thing, the compartments filling and spilling into the next one, like an ice cube tray. It's a banal fact, but I think it every time, and worse I think "I think this every time" every time as well.

Is this it? Is my brain full? Can I forever more only rethink old thoughts? Can I not get rid of some of the useless stuff - like do I really need to remember every phone number, car number plate and postcode I have ever had?

Bla

You'd think by the age of 17, sorry, 33, getting confused again, I would have mastered the art of communication and indeed, how to write.

NB I don't mean "how to be a successful writer", I mean "how to construct sentences that convey the intended meaning".

Nay.

I never say what I mean to say (did I say cold? I meant green) and when I go to write something that should be simple, nothing comes to mind. Blankety blank (is that still on? do they give away a Blankety Blank debit card and pin?). I'm TRYING to write about one of my favourite ever albums. Difficult? No. Anything there? Also no. I should maybe try writing about something else altogether and commenting in brackets on the album, for that seems to work for me.

Talking to people is hard. Yes, it is. When I aim for "nice", I achieve "poking nose in". For "helpful", I manage "patronising", and for "advising" I produce "unrelated personal life story".

When I grow up, I'm going to be able to write like this (yes, him again, he always manages to depress me by being both grown up and able to immediately activate the "I'm jumping up and down, look at me" module) or this or this. Meantime I'm going to find some teenagers to hang out with so I appear sophisticated and worldly wise. Ugh. No, I'm not, that's a complete lie. I shall continue on my quest to have no teenagers that aren't related to me in my life at all ever. I am not going to shut up till I get some sense/social skills (I'm sure I used to have some?). No, I am going to blunder on as before.

This counts as pointless. Pointless I can do for hours. Dammit.

Sucking up

I am such a suck ass. I am also perpetually curious and easily impressed, as well as having a need to be able to build models of things like the Great Wall of China out of my book collection.

I just made the following order from Amazon:

Delivery estimate: 14 Oct 2008 - 20 Oct 2008
Dispatch estimate for these items: 9 Oct 2008

1 "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now: My Difficult Student 80s"
Andrew Collins

1 "That's Me in the Corner: Adventures of an Ordinary Boy in a Celebrity World"
Andrew Collins

1 "Corned Beef Sandwich"
Mark Sullivan

1 "Where Did It All Go Right?: Growing Up Normal In the 70s"
Andrew Collins


There is no point in crawling if I don't publicise it. By 2014 I hope to have read at least one of these.