Wednesday, 22 April 2009


Just a wave to the people reading this that never say hello.


I'm lonely you know. That's why I write this. Bit broked just now but never mind. Only me.

No. It's not very interesting. Move on.


Monday, 20 April 2009


Not that long ago I was bemoaning the fact that nothing ever happens.
I didn't realise that this was good.
I hurt.
Lots and lots and lots.
I have whiplash. Doesn't sound much, but it's rubbishy rubbish. I am completely crap. I now can't do:

Sitting up for long
Being on the computer (thank you iBaby)
Remembering stuff or understanding things
Driving (but I don't want to)
Turning my head
Using my arms to lift anything heavier than a phone

But I have many tasty painkillers so I sleep lots. And I've been exempt from doing most things. It's not all bad.
Whiplash! It sounds so nothingy.

My car is relatively unscathed and is merely awaiting a new bumper. I've had a Focus to not drive this week, it's rather nice.
The RAC are the greatest organisation in the world.
Everyone join the RAC. They are amazing in the event of an accident.

Although everyone's been pretty nice, especially the personal injury lawyers sniffing a case.

Not the police, who I blame entirely for the whole thing and who *apparently* don't like affronted missies being stroppily sarcastic at them.

That, I'm sorry to say is that. A pain in the neck is indeed a pain in the neck and so my mind is occupied.

Thursday, 16 April 2009


Me + car = trouble.

Tonight I performed an emergency stop so as not to hit a police van that was going through a red light.
Car stopped dead, all good then...
And I've got another car rammed into me.
Happy day.

I did get to be incredibly sarcastic to a number of police officers. Which is quite fun even if they did make me feel geriatric for the second time in a day. And I got top marks (0) for my breath test. Obviously.

When my Volvo got broked, I fully expected it back. I was truly bereaved when it was pronounced dead.
Distraught, I bought a pretty coloured Vectra on the rebound.
It hates me. It knows I still love the Volvo. It's been trying to crash since I got it.

I just know they're going to fix the Vectra. I'll get it back just a little shiter than before. I've found a new Volvo!
I'm not going to get it. Dammit.

I should have a courtesy car soon, I bet it's a Ka. Courtesy car is good. Do not complain. Admit it is unlikely a BMW is the same grade of car as a Ka. Hope for a Punto.

Sleep eludes me. Too wired.

Wednesday, 15 April 2009


I do love smuggery.
And yes, I do know the correct word. I like that one better, ok?

"I am better than everyone else. I have no idea about why people do things but I shall judge anyway".

I was left the following comment on an old blog entry I made about my other "101 things" blog. It says:

67: find something better to do then make blogs about nothing.

Goodo. Can I just point out that the use of the word "then" in the middle of that makes that sentence a little nonsensical? Do something interesting, then write about nothing. Would it not make more sense to write about the something interesting? Ah. Maybe you meant "than", that would actually make sense. Not to worry about spelling though. It's not important, people KNOW what you mean and it's just old fashioned and bothersome to use the word that makes sense.

Back to the point however. This riles me. It is something that crops up relatively often from the smug and uncaring.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

Mostly I don't.
Don't you think if I had something better to do, I'd be doing it?

I have noticed (and previously noted, I bore myself) that people who spend a lot of time on the internet fall into the following categories:

1) people who are primarily on their own a lot, for whatever reason. That is somewhat lonesome and it's a type of company. Not a very good one but it's a wee bit better than putting the television on for company. The people I have noticed tweeting most (and pleasantly, there are more prolific bores) are writers and quite probably have lots of better things to do at other times, but who maybe just want to make contact with people.

2) people who have insanely bad jobs and a combination of hatred for the job/organisation, boredom, and ability to access the internet.

3) liars. people who fall into one of the above categories but make like they have interesting lives. Most people aren't Stephen Fry and if they're doing something, they don't have time to post about it.

4) people that actually have a lot of others that want to know what they have to say, who make time to say it and who should be thanked for doing that rather than derided. (This also includes people who think this applies to them but who are a bit deluded).

The "101 things" blog is a tool thing and not remotely meant for entertainment. It's not listed on searches, it's just there for me and it's not hidden because there's a vague possibility I'll be embarrassed into getting on with it. This here blog: it's not meant to be anything other than blether, mind burps, a way to say things that have occurred to me. Hence the title; it could have been called "It's extremely interesting" or "It's content heavy" or "It's lots of things" or "It's basically waiting to be compiled into a paperback". It's not, it's called "It's nothing at all". It therefore contains many words about nothing in particular, occasionally accidentally happening upon something interesting, and is listed partly because nice people sometimes say hello, and partly because just once in a while I'm saying something I like to be out there.

I am incidentally saying a lot less than before, but that's a little to do with the fact that I can concisely comment in a twittery manner, and mostly because the stuff that's keeping me busy is far from interesting. Today for example, I made a "hoover" out of an easter egg box and a wrapping paper insert. Time consuming: yes. Interesting: no, not really.

So, Mr/Ms Anonymous: yes, I would like to have something better to do, it is sage advice and I shall be sure to start finding something better to do with my time. I only wish I'd thought of that myself.

For the record, I do not like anonymous comments, unless it is done in humour. Anonymity in order to have a go at someone that may or may not know you is cowardly.

Sunday, 12 April 2009


I do marvel at what matters to people. I have lost count of the number of comments along the lines of "we are so much happier since we stopped spending so much money".


That is what's wrong. It's all about money, possessions, showing off. It's not about enjoying life. It's not about making the world a better place. Does anyone ever need more bathrooms than there are inhabitants of the house? Do people really not take walks because it's a nice thing to do?

Why does it take a global financial pigs ear of a situation to make people think about their family, about not throwing money hand over fist on things that they don't need or particularly like (for if they really liked them, they'd stay)? To discover nature, to cook at home, to stop and enjoy what's just there.

So: less spending, more happiness.

That's why poor people are so happy all the time.

Patronising smug gits. Why don't magazines etc feature normal people?

Anyway. Aside from those who have lost their job, who I'm guessing have bigger issues to face than if they should holiday in Bali or Bangor this year, is everyone not a bit better off? Mortgage payments are less, most things are a bit cheaper - that means more money to spend. No?

Part 2 and some coherent tying tomorrow, sleep just tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to surrender.

Goodnight, before I snooze midsentence

Friday, 10 April 2009

Typing for fun

I have the whole of April to catch up on reading blogwise. That's a lot of blogs, of which I've read a small sample. I don't, obviously, read all blogs, because that wouldn't be possible, and actually I don't read very many, but I do read some and I haven't been and I feel slightly overwhelmed at catching up so I may just shut Blogger and run away.

Then again, I might not.

The joy of having a desk. Did I mention I have my desk and chair back? 15 months of using my laptop (3 different laptops actually, but that's an irrelevant point) on the bed is now over. I can regain feeling in my fingers. I am comfortable. I am In A Chair.

So I'm going to type until I just fall asleep. Bla bla bla.

Or not. I may wait till I'm nearly asleep and go to bed. Which I have to do from my desk. I don't sleep here. I might, but I fear that wouldn't help the sore back. But I could. I have a chair.

My phone has never known a desk before. It has a place to sit, my little charging station which sounds quite organised but consists of a fourblock taped to the side of the desk and a little freebie phone deckshair that the wires for charging (DS and iPhone) can sit on so they don't go AWOL. And I have a mental attack every time I put my phone on my desk because for no reason whatsoever the box is here and so I have to line the phone up exactly on the picture on the outside of the box. Seconds of amusement.

Come back! I have other things to talk about! Ages worth!

I am watching the Apprentice. I have never watched this before on account of despising that sort of thing (mostly) but I decided to. I like it. Get thoroughly obnoxious arrogant twats and make them look stupid. I love seeing Kate look stupid, she does it with such ease. I don't care about the others. They're all donkeys apart from Yasmina. She said "I am so much better than the rest of them" or something to that effect and yes, she is. She is quite correct. Lorraine does appear to have a brain attached, but she is spectacularly ugly and everyone knows ugly people don't win reality tv shows. The blokes are insipid and unremarkable in every way.

And that's all I'm going to say on the matter, perhaps, because everyone else says it so much better. Sadly, not Andrew Collins which is a very sad thing indeed, but such is life.

Twitter: my life now boils down to tweets of 140 characters. (Why is it not Twits and Twitting? If that's rude then why's the whole thing not called Tweeter?). People come across well in tweets, I warm to them. People should speak at all times in comments of 140 characters. I'm not entirely sure how you'd measure it but it would be great. Exams would be so much easier, and shorter. Interviews would be infinitely easier. It's the future. But anyway, it does seem to bring out the best of people, they possibly actually have to think more to abbreviate, but whatever the reason, it works. I adore Stephen Fry now, I never quite took to him previously but he just gets the tweet thing right and says the right words at the right time. I naturally have many ginormous virtual crushes but shhhhh. Them's a secret. I find out about the bits of the world I'm interested in through other people, I can be spectacularly lazy. And for the iPhone users of the world, Tweetie is a great application.

Stuff has happened. Stuff I wanted to rant about. But for now I'm feeling mellow and unranty and I think I shall takes myself off to that bedplace.


Thursday, 9 April 2009

Oh look, she posts.

I've been ill and busy and rubbish and tired. It seems that I gave up blogging pretty much for Lent, I've not read half the ones I normally read either. It wasn't deliberate. I may be rubbish again. No one cares really.

I have been returned my non essentials. All that which was in storage for the exciting house sale that we anticipated last January (oh the timing, we have a gift) and which we have abandoned all hope of has now been returned. I have my bookcases, my chests of drawers, my frivolous scarves, my books, my silly things. All back. All mine. I feel a bit of me returning. I have things that I forgot I owned, it's been jolly nice. I missed my books. I love my books.

When I was young I used to write a lot. Even when computers became the mainstay of communication, I liked to write things down. I still do, but I lose them. I didn't used to lose so much and so have found a couple of young-me things.

One is a book entitled "All About Me" which is intended for young children but which my friends purchased for my 21st birthday and which I dutifully completed.

You'd think I'd change more in 13 years. I am less sappy about the man, no longer have a dog, still despair about living in Kirkcaldy (although have lived away for a few years in between), still hate being skint and am still hoping to lose weight - except unlike then I actually have weight to lose. I thought I was vast! I was right in the middle of my ideal weight range. Hmm. Maybe when I'm 45 I'll look back at now and think "golly, and I wasn't even obese!" What a depressing thought. Being over 40 that is :-p

I don't mean it. I quite like old people.

Ok, I'll shut up now.

I also found a list of rules that I compiled for my husband before we were married. (Not as a pre-nuptial thing, this was before we knew we were getting married). They consist of the mostly sensible:

1. Shave regularly
2. Make cups of tea on demand
3. Remain on own side of bed while asleep
4. Don't hog the Nintendo/PC/bath
5. Always put the seat down on the toilet
6. Don't take Morag's seat when she goes to the kitchen (????)
7. Completely in charge of dogwalking
8. No dropping ash on carpet
9. Discourage growth of back hair
10. Be prepared to try other foods other than bacon/bread/cheese/chocolate
11. Don't eat chocolate that doesn't belong to you
12. Don't refer to food you don't like as "sick"
13. Always cut up your own cornbeef
14. Never admit in public that you play Galaxy
15. No watching football where you don't care about the result
16. No new speakers till old ones are broken
17. No old trainers when new ones are available.

Quite reasonable, I'd say and mostly still entirely applicable. No idea what I was on about in 6, 7 and 8 no longer apply in the absence of cigarettes and dog. No 9 is possibly unfair and I don't remember what the Galaxy of 14 is about.

Oh books. Lovely books, I have so many to read, I have many many more . I will finish Shakespeare tonight then I am deviating off the list for a bit to read my bookclub book - interesting as it is Alexander McCall Smith (La saves the world) and I have never read him on account of deciding I wouldn't like his books for no good reason - and to read Jade's autobiography for absolutely no good reason other than the fact that she was a mummy to two little boys. Shakespeare, McCall Smith and Jade. I feel confused already.

Happy Easter, which is what people seem to be doing this weekend, starting a day early. I don't even like chocolate that much.

Wednesday, 1 April 2009

Can't care, won't care

I'm all out of rant.
I'm so lost without it.

I don't care about anything any more. I mean, I do care a bit, I care a bit about a lot of things, but I don't feel evangelical about any of them. I want to. I want to have a subject to bang on about at the drop of a hat that isn't "aren't my children exceptionally talented and beautiful and polite and other things that are of no interest to anyone that isn't their parent?"

See, I care quite a lot about fish. I feel that people who bang on that "meat is murder" and then eat fish are a little hypocritical. Don't get me wrong, two of my most favouritist people in the entire world are pescetarian types, and anyone can eat what they like, but neither of these people are the "murder! murder!" types. I eat chicken occasionally despite being ostensibly vegetarian these days. I also eat jelly babies. I don't care what other people eat. Even fish. Unless it has a head or shell on, then it makes me a bit ill. That's just me, sorry, and it's fine -really! - if you do it when I'm not there. It just seems a bit wrong to say it's cruel to eat a chicken, but it's not cruel to eat a fish. But, I don't want to offend anyone and people are entitled to eat what they want (there aren't diminishing chicken stocks - not Knorr, don't be silly - but we'll not go there). If it's about taste, or preference, or dislike for farming methods, anything like that, fine, but do not tell anyone that it is murder to eat one animal and not another.

Incidentally, they make good pets, they are not just decorative and it does matter when they die.

And that's as passionate as I get about anything and I don't want to offend people so I need to retract most of it.

I care quite a lot about Boris. He is an idiot and I will happily explain why at any given chance. But I get a bit boring about that because it's all transport related. Mention the word "transport" and people glaze over. Also, being passionate about a hatred for a human being is not very nice. I find gleeful mirth at the fact that my clever, clever phone wants to correct "Boris" to "virus" and bore people occasionally.

Do you KNOW what he's wanting to do to traffic lights?

Oh. Ok.

I raise an eyebrow occasionally (rarely a sign of passion) at the reports on why *we* are so much happier in times of crunching credit because now *we* do things like walk in the park and have friends round to the house. Oh do *we*? *We* didn't do this before? What is the point in life if you don't enjoy the stuff that's just THERE? Were *we* that obsessed with things-that-cost-money?

Yada. People drink too much, too often. I don't. I don't see why almost all social occasions have to revolve around getting drunk. See fish comments for "best keep this to myself or I'll offend, well, everyone". Do you really need to be drunk to have a good time? Really? Oh, never mind, social skills aren't all that. Really? Moving on.

The environment. I care. I do what I can without unduly affecting my life. I'm a bit lazy. I think the people that can do anything aren't, and the people who know what they're talking about talk about the wrong things. And the wrong things are being done. It's hard to get passionate about something when you see what the other, more influential, people are doing and getting it wrong. Yes! I have changed all my lightbulbs! Yes, I don't use a tumble drier! Yes, I walk places! Oh, you're landfilling all my rubbish. That's grand. And where do I recycle these things? Hmm? Oh right. Paper only, or I can take bottles to the park. Great. Thanks for your help! Oh good, more biofuel, that's just what we need. Ach, I'll just turn the light on again.

Invasion of privacy: I'm too ignorant to care. Rights of the motorist? Selfish gits, get out and walk. Other things? Can't think of them so I clearly don't care that much.

And so we come to the end of everything I could care about, in a lot more than 140 characters.