Hurrah! Perplexed and confused by the predictions for next year, another magazine - that shall remain nameless for purposes of not being hated - has the solution.
So. To be a better person in 2009, it is necessary to do the following:
1) Light a candle every day, It's life affirming. As is being surrounded by flowers. Buy some. Pick some. Look at them. Take time to contemplate life, write down what you think. It achieves the realisation of the authentic you. Then in order to recover from the shock of this, move on to...
2) Plant some seeds. No, not cress. Seeds of action. Take a small step towards a goal. Because you'd have never thought of that as a way of making things better. But if you think of it as a seed and plant it in fertile soil and nurture it, then you'll get confused and end up with some tomatoes. And how could you not be cheered by some tomatoes? But still, sound advice, take steps towards betterdom.
3) Feed your tomatoes. No. Sorry. Add nutrients to your life. These are the things which give your life purpose. Do more of them! Make time for them! No, really, that will help. Do nice things: feel nice. Light the candle again. Have some bruschetta.
4) Nurture: tell someone you love them. I like this one, it is good advice. Everyone should tell other people the positive things they like about them. You think it, you tell them in your mind or when they're asleep, you don't say it because it's odd. Weirdly, the better you know someone the harder it is to tell them you love them. Tell them now. Properly. So they hear you. Give them some Baby Bio.
5) Growing strong roots: look after your body. Do exercise and stuff. Don't be a sloth. You know all this, right? Yeah. A grow bag may help, but equally well might not. Acknowledge that you're not perfect. Unless you're perfect, in which case feel smug. But for most people, go easy on yourself. Don't expect too much. Watch a bit of TV. Light a candle.
6) Do a spot of weeding. Get rid of all those rose bay willow herbs. Or alternatively, rid yourself of the negative self beliefs that get you down. Advice here is to take something you are scared of, something that you believe you can't do and try to do it. Example given is if you hate speaking in public, find something you care about and talk about that. Uh huh. Not likely. Nuh uh. Oh no. Not on your life. Next?
7) Model yourself on people you admire. Steal their clothes. No, don't do that. But think of how they act and try to act like that. Not sure how this relates to being the authentic you, but hey, it's not my advice, I'm not so keen on plants.
8) Take up landscape gardening. Create a wondrous garden of your weed free plants of confidence. Expand your tomato plantation. Create seed circles of positive people and look back over your horticulture and consider all you have achieved. Make them into soup.
There's some good, if bonkers and rather obvious, advice in there. Go tell someone you love them, go easy on yourself, remember you're a womble and that gardening purges the soul. Or something like that. Go do something you've never done before.
Saturday, 13 December 2008
Concisely crabbit
Feeling right crabbit today. So all the stuff that was floating around my head early this morning when I sensible decided to sleep has now morphed into grrrrrrrrr.
So abbreviated thoughts:
Christmas to non religious christians (if Richard dawkins calls himself a Christian, it applies) is, or should be, a celebration of the winter with all coal fires and lights and what not, and it is also a celebration of love: love for your family, colleagues, friends and everyone you care about. It's a chance to catch up and if nothing else do your duty.
You can't help who or what you love. You just do. You can't unlove a single because it's unpopular, you can't make yourself love someone who makes your flesh crawl.
Methinks both of those need expanded on, but like I said: crabbit.
So abbreviated thoughts:
Christmas to non religious christians (if Richard dawkins calls himself a Christian, it applies) is, or should be, a celebration of the winter with all coal fires and lights and what not, and it is also a celebration of love: love for your family, colleagues, friends and everyone you care about. It's a chance to catch up and if nothing else do your duty.
You can't help who or what you love. You just do. You can't unlove a single because it's unpopular, you can't make yourself love someone who makes your flesh crawl.
Methinks both of those need expanded on, but like I said: crabbit.
Power from the people
So the people of Manchester said no. They didn't want the "carrot" of public transport investment, instead they objected to the "stick" of paying congestion charges. (Analogies there from the media, they've used that carrot/stick thing 5769 times today).
The problem there: the people. Why didn't the powers that be in Manchester didn't take the hint from Edinburgh and the other place that's name eludes me? People are NEVER going to vote yes on this. Why waste time doing a referendum? Either just do it, Ken Livingstone stylee, which they are legitimately allowed to do, or accept people won't like it and give up on the idea.
People generally don't know stuff. Even clever people, they know about what they know. Votes don't work for this reason. People are asked to vote: they acquire knowledge. Or they don't, but for now we shall credit Joe Public with an inquisitive and intelligent mind. Where do they get this information from? The media, that's where. So in effect, by asking the "people" to vote, the vote is being given to the media. Who aren't renowned for being unbiased and focussing on the facts. They want sensationalism and "this is a good thing which will benefit the greater good" is not sensationalist. The people vote as they are told to, because they believe they have the facts.
Same thing applies when the public are asked to vote on reality TV programmes. There's a problem there with the sort of person that votes on these programmes. The sort of person that pays money for a mostly irrelevant vote. Irrelevant because anyone can predict the outcome: the judges tell the public categorically who to vote for, and the voters follow suit. It always happens. The popular guy never actually wins, it's the judges' favourite that wins. Or in the case of Big Brother, the editing team at Channel 4 lead the votes by carefully selecting what's broadcast.
HBOS is being taken over by Lloyds TSB. Good. Sorted. But the people, who don't have a scoobie about fiscal policy and banking in general and quite like the big posh building in Edinburgh, would have voted "no!!!!! we want it to go under or something, we don't want a takeover, then it would go to that England place". Which wouldn't have resulted in the correct action being taken.
So the public should never be allowed to vote. They don't get it right.
Except, we live in a supposed democracy. We should have a say. It is wrong to impose things on people without consultation. Everyone should be consulted.
A solution: a two stage voting process. The first stage would open to anyone who felt they would be affected by the outcome. This would consist of a series of questions and in order to progress to the second stage, a person would have to demonstrate an understanding of the situation being voted on. This initial stage would have to be carefully constructed so that the likely vote of the person was not revealed, but that their suitability to pass opinion was. Not an intelligent test, not a lot of trick questions so the Mensa members rule the world, it would be a fair test of unbiasedness and willingness to appreciate the facts, which would be made easily and unbiasedly available to allow as many people to access them as cared to find out. This would open up the vote to anyone, so be democratic and should have a reasonable cross section of society represented, but closed to idiots.
Impossible. And quite probably elitist. But how nice it would be.
The problem there: the people. Why didn't the powers that be in Manchester didn't take the hint from Edinburgh and the other place that's name eludes me? People are NEVER going to vote yes on this. Why waste time doing a referendum? Either just do it, Ken Livingstone stylee, which they are legitimately allowed to do, or accept people won't like it and give up on the idea.
People generally don't know stuff. Even clever people, they know about what they know. Votes don't work for this reason. People are asked to vote: they acquire knowledge. Or they don't, but for now we shall credit Joe Public with an inquisitive and intelligent mind. Where do they get this information from? The media, that's where. So in effect, by asking the "people" to vote, the vote is being given to the media. Who aren't renowned for being unbiased and focussing on the facts. They want sensationalism and "this is a good thing which will benefit the greater good" is not sensationalist. The people vote as they are told to, because they believe they have the facts.
Same thing applies when the public are asked to vote on reality TV programmes. There's a problem there with the sort of person that votes on these programmes. The sort of person that pays money for a mostly irrelevant vote. Irrelevant because anyone can predict the outcome: the judges tell the public categorically who to vote for, and the voters follow suit. It always happens. The popular guy never actually wins, it's the judges' favourite that wins. Or in the case of Big Brother, the editing team at Channel 4 lead the votes by carefully selecting what's broadcast.
HBOS is being taken over by Lloyds TSB. Good. Sorted. But the people, who don't have a scoobie about fiscal policy and banking in general and quite like the big posh building in Edinburgh, would have voted "no!!!!! we want it to go under or something, we don't want a takeover, then it would go to that England place". Which wouldn't have resulted in the correct action being taken.
So the public should never be allowed to vote. They don't get it right.
Except, we live in a supposed democracy. We should have a say. It is wrong to impose things on people without consultation. Everyone should be consulted.
A solution: a two stage voting process. The first stage would open to anyone who felt they would be affected by the outcome. This would consist of a series of questions and in order to progress to the second stage, a person would have to demonstrate an understanding of the situation being voted on. This initial stage would have to be carefully constructed so that the likely vote of the person was not revealed, but that their suitability to pass opinion was. Not an intelligent test, not a lot of trick questions so the Mensa members rule the world, it would be a fair test of unbiasedness and willingness to appreciate the facts, which would be made easily and unbiasedly available to allow as many people to access them as cared to find out. This would open up the vote to anyone, so be democratic and should have a reasonable cross section of society represented, but closed to idiots.
Impossible. And quite probably elitist. But how nice it would be.
Friday, 12 December 2008
No. No. No. No Nooooooooo.
No. I can't accept this, I have to have my ears removed for the duration of the rest of time, or at least until Christmas is over.
The X Factor finalists are to sing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, which is the most beautiful song in the world and does not need 21st Centuryised by some everyone-else-soundalike. That is the biggest travesty I have ever heard of. And I haven't heard it yet, I pray for some miracle that I never do and continue to be able to listen to the best version untaintedly.
And that's another thing. The Jeff Buckley version is not the definitive version, it is not the best. John Cale's version is the best; he has a beautiful voice, he sings it to perfection. Jeff Buckley's version is very similar, just slower and not as well sung, not as poignant and just simply not as good. Just because John Cale wasn't one of the most beautiful people ever to have lived and didn't tragically drown at a very young age, doesn't mean that he didn't do the song infinitely better.
So no. I'm not happy with the choice for X Factor. I hate the existence of the X Factor, it's drivelly cruel TV that produces another drivelly singer or four that are exactly the same as everyone else in the dirgey charts and this is the final insult.
And I continue to be extremely unhappy that everyone mistakenly claims Jeff Buckley's version to be anything like as good as John Cale's, let alone better.
By the way, yes you have heard it, John Cale's version is the one in Shrek. It's also the second song here.
The X Factor finalists are to sing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, which is the most beautiful song in the world and does not need 21st Centuryised by some everyone-else-soundalike. That is the biggest travesty I have ever heard of. And I haven't heard it yet, I pray for some miracle that I never do and continue to be able to listen to the best version untaintedly.
And that's another thing. The Jeff Buckley version is not the definitive version, it is not the best. John Cale's version is the best; he has a beautiful voice, he sings it to perfection. Jeff Buckley's version is very similar, just slower and not as well sung, not as poignant and just simply not as good. Just because John Cale wasn't one of the most beautiful people ever to have lived and didn't tragically drown at a very young age, doesn't mean that he didn't do the song infinitely better.
So no. I'm not happy with the choice for X Factor. I hate the existence of the X Factor, it's drivelly cruel TV that produces another drivelly singer or four that are exactly the same as everyone else in the dirgey charts and this is the final insult.
And I continue to be extremely unhappy that everyone mistakenly claims Jeff Buckley's version to be anything like as good as John Cale's, let alone better.
By the way, yes you have heard it, John Cale's version is the one in Shrek. It's also the second song here.
Opinions pls
Ok, I need advice.
I have made some presents here, and I'm not all that convinced that they're not utterly rubbish.
So. Are these acceptable presents?
bearing in mind that:
a) they're bracelets with elastic. Scale not good, I reckon that needs clarified
b) each of the persons intended to receive these is getting something else too, albeit less than the expected amount of something I should probably give.
So, do I:
1) get nice boxes for these and make like they're proper presents?
2) buy something else and give these as a joke "and here's a little something I made"?
Honest please. I think they're cack but I made them and that renders me useless at judging.
Now, I know that it should be all about the thought, and it's a great idea to save money by making stuff, and that's what Christmas is all about etc etc. But that's all fantasy talking and people aren't really like that. Christmas isn't like that. I don't want to see the look in people's eyes when they open up something that isn't a "proper" present.
I'm going to buy something else anyway. I know I am. But I still would like to know if these efforts ought to go in the bin.
PS apologies for pic quality, laziness meant using da phone.
I have made some presents here, and I'm not all that convinced that they're not utterly rubbish.
So. Are these acceptable presents?
bearing in mind that:a) they're bracelets with elastic. Scale not good, I reckon that needs clarified
b) each of the persons intended to receive these is getting something else too, albeit less than the expected amount of something I should probably give.
So, do I:
1) get nice boxes for these and make like they're proper presents?
2) buy something else and give these as a joke "and here's a little something I made"?
Honest please. I think they're cack but I made them and that renders me useless at judging.
Now, I know that it should be all about the thought, and it's a great idea to save money by making stuff, and that's what Christmas is all about etc etc. But that's all fantasy talking and people aren't really like that. Christmas isn't like that. I don't want to see the look in people's eyes when they open up something that isn't a "proper" present.
I'm going to buy something else anyway. I know I am. But I still would like to know if these efforts ought to go in the bin.
PS apologies for pic quality, laziness meant using da phone.
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Oh what?
Disclaimer: if you're not interested in transport links over the Forth, this will probably be a bit tedious. I'm having a rant.
For approximately 3000 years, the A8000 link road that took travellers from the Forth Road Bridge to link with the M9 was desperately needing to be upgraded/replaced/taken out the back and shot. Finally, last year or so, the new link road opened, making the road smooth and dual carriagewayed. Marvellous. Journey times reduced massively, stress levels minimised.
But. While they were building this road, which took 82 years, they were establishing that the existing Forth Bridge was nearing the end of its likely life, due to the huge increase in usage compared to anticipated levels when it was built. A new bridge was planned. Or a tunnel. Or something. Something that would solve the problem of the sheer volume of traffic wanting to travel across the water. Something that could maybe incorporate a light rail system to accommodate commuters. Or just something. Just a new something to get excited about and be seen to be taking a proactive approach to the problem and stop the existing bridge from tumbling into the sea.
Then they announced the new plan. A dual carriageway bridge with a hard shoulder with possible room for a (small) change of use in the fullness of time. Sounded a leeeetle bit like the existing bridge, just up the river a bit and so not connected to the marvellous new road network. Not a tunnel. Not a multi use bridge. One with what pretty much sounded like it would have exactly the same capacity as the old bridge. But not connected to the road network. Which is quite important. There's another bridge just opened up the river at Kincardine next to the existing Kincardine bridge, which should address some of the traffic issues, but that's been a bit hush hush, surprise! We built a bridge! Now back to the one we use...
This is currently the work of the SNP, with the rather marvellous Alex Salmond, who's not shy of doing what he thinks is the right thing. Mostly he's done incredibly popular things, most of the ones I've paid attention to are trying to undo the ludicrous transport proposals by his predecessor, the utterly despicable Jack McConnell. Salmond couldn't stop the trams; he did take the tolls - put in at huge expense while the investigation as to the impending closure of the bridge was carrying on - out. I rather like the Transport Minister, Stewart Stevenson, he seems to actually know a thing or two about transport and environmental issues which is a novel concept for a Minister. Or that's what I thought until I read the news today.
Most of the plans for the roads up north and so on sound ideal. Latest plans for the Forth Bridge? Oh dear. The new bridge is to be downgraded from inadequate to downright awful. Exactly the same as the existing one, just in a new location. It's going to be half the cost, should come in on budget (setting a new record, surely?), and will be ready to be operational in 2016. At which point it would be at capacity. And the finances. This is a response to the credit nibbles apparently, so we're not going to use the controversial fund (which I know nothing about but that sounds like it's supposed to be for projects like this), but instead we're going to borrow from the Treasury. All the funds up to 2018. Because that's what you do in an economic crisis: get into more debt. A good example to set, n'est pas?
But joy! The existing bridge will be saved! For use by buses only. A marvellous idea in theory, buses are carbon neutral if you fiddle the figures and la la la a lot, everyone should get the (ugh) bus. Presumably the bus operators would take advantage of this, run more services but fail to make it a less heinous experience, nor would the Council/Government/God address the issue of getting into town. The traffic from both bridges would converge at some point, additional buses wouldn't really help that, there'd be a bottleneck closer to Edinburgh. Unless the magical trams could link up with the buses out of town and then there'd actually be a solution to many problems in place but that seems like wishful thinking. The new roads make take away the traffic going to destinations other than Edinburgh, but the traffic on the bridge at congestion times? That's all headed for Edinburgh.
So the new bridge will be battered by lorries, the trains will still be restricted by the capacity of the rail bridge, and the buses that won't get used will have the existing bridge and the marvellous road all to themselves. If it survives. Which it might not. While they're investigating that fact, they will presumably get on with building stuff and worry about whether it works sometime after its operational.
all done now. Sorry if you're bored. I did warn you.
For approximately 3000 years, the A8000 link road that took travellers from the Forth Road Bridge to link with the M9 was desperately needing to be upgraded/replaced/taken out the back and shot. Finally, last year or so, the new link road opened, making the road smooth and dual carriagewayed. Marvellous. Journey times reduced massively, stress levels minimised.
But. While they were building this road, which took 82 years, they were establishing that the existing Forth Bridge was nearing the end of its likely life, due to the huge increase in usage compared to anticipated levels when it was built. A new bridge was planned. Or a tunnel. Or something. Something that would solve the problem of the sheer volume of traffic wanting to travel across the water. Something that could maybe incorporate a light rail system to accommodate commuters. Or just something. Just a new something to get excited about and be seen to be taking a proactive approach to the problem and stop the existing bridge from tumbling into the sea.
Then they announced the new plan. A dual carriageway bridge with a hard shoulder with possible room for a (small) change of use in the fullness of time. Sounded a leeeetle bit like the existing bridge, just up the river a bit and so not connected to the marvellous new road network. Not a tunnel. Not a multi use bridge. One with what pretty much sounded like it would have exactly the same capacity as the old bridge. But not connected to the road network. Which is quite important. There's another bridge just opened up the river at Kincardine next to the existing Kincardine bridge, which should address some of the traffic issues, but that's been a bit hush hush, surprise! We built a bridge! Now back to the one we use...
This is currently the work of the SNP, with the rather marvellous Alex Salmond, who's not shy of doing what he thinks is the right thing. Mostly he's done incredibly popular things, most of the ones I've paid attention to are trying to undo the ludicrous transport proposals by his predecessor, the utterly despicable Jack McConnell. Salmond couldn't stop the trams; he did take the tolls - put in at huge expense while the investigation as to the impending closure of the bridge was carrying on - out. I rather like the Transport Minister, Stewart Stevenson, he seems to actually know a thing or two about transport and environmental issues which is a novel concept for a Minister. Or that's what I thought until I read the news today.
Most of the plans for the roads up north and so on sound ideal. Latest plans for the Forth Bridge? Oh dear. The new bridge is to be downgraded from inadequate to downright awful. Exactly the same as the existing one, just in a new location. It's going to be half the cost, should come in on budget (setting a new record, surely?), and will be ready to be operational in 2016. At which point it would be at capacity. And the finances. This is a response to the credit nibbles apparently, so we're not going to use the controversial fund (which I know nothing about but that sounds like it's supposed to be for projects like this), but instead we're going to borrow from the Treasury. All the funds up to 2018. Because that's what you do in an economic crisis: get into more debt. A good example to set, n'est pas?
But joy! The existing bridge will be saved! For use by buses only. A marvellous idea in theory, buses are carbon neutral if you fiddle the figures and la la la a lot, everyone should get the (ugh) bus. Presumably the bus operators would take advantage of this, run more services but fail to make it a less heinous experience, nor would the Council/Government/God address the issue of getting into town. The traffic from both bridges would converge at some point, additional buses wouldn't really help that, there'd be a bottleneck closer to Edinburgh. Unless the magical trams could link up with the buses out of town and then there'd actually be a solution to many problems in place but that seems like wishful thinking. The new roads make take away the traffic going to destinations other than Edinburgh, but the traffic on the bridge at congestion times? That's all headed for Edinburgh.
So the new bridge will be battered by lorries, the trains will still be restricted by the capacity of the rail bridge, and the buses that won't get used will have the existing bridge and the marvellous road all to themselves. If it survives. Which it might not. While they're investigating that fact, they will presumably get on with building stuff and worry about whether it works sometime after its operational.
all done now. Sorry if you're bored. I did warn you.
Put your arms around the whirled at christmas time
It's the 11th of December, the worst day of the year. Goodie. That's precisely the sort of thing I ought not to make a note of, but how could I wallow in self pity then? Indeed.
I'm not actually feeling unhappy, I'm glowing from the combination of a lovely compliment and a Giant Unmentionable Crush. Shallow be my name.
Of paramount importance: it is merely one month today that I cease to be 33. That's good. Very good. And on this day, Woolworths start their closing down sale. That's this day, not that day.
Note to self: do not go to Woolies. It won't be fun.
I just did my Christmas shopping, hence the festive clip art there on the left. Woo. I actually bought Christmas itself (Muppet Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street and Father Christmas/The Snowman) for practically nothing (£13, free delivery) from HMV, my new best friend in an online shop sort of way. It's a Wonderful Life is in storage - sob! On the present front, Crabtree and Evelyn, Amazon and Boots have done their online bit. ELC, Azdaz (that's Asda to you) and Sainsburys have done their bit as well over the last wee while, but they don't count as they weren't online or tonight or specifically for present shopping.
Except...there's still the ones I have to make, which is why I'm celebrating the small amount of money just parted with. I haven't got anyone anything much, I've got a pile of stuff that could theoretically be assembled into gifts. I should probably make them, so I can establish they're unacceptable, sob over them, and buy something else. Or, go for something totally different and give everyone a sandwich for Christmas. I would cut it into a star, it would be festive. And unique. I think I'm onto something here. The Christmas Sandwich Co, motto: there's no b in television. Keep up, keep up, it's all coming together beautifully.
I think I'm overexcited again, this is a sort of boingy blog. Gingerbread cookie anyone? Oh you're asleep. Oh. Right. It's 2am. It's 2am? Oh.
Random thought: I remembered something else I liked from TV this year.
That Pushing Daisies thing. I liked that. It was smile inducing.
I'm not actually feeling unhappy, I'm glowing from the combination of a lovely compliment and a Giant Unmentionable Crush. Shallow be my name.
Of paramount importance: it is merely one month today that I cease to be 33. That's good. Very good. And on this day, Woolworths start their closing down sale. That's this day, not that day.
Note to self: do not go to Woolies. It won't be fun.
I just did my Christmas shopping, hence the festive clip art there on the left. Woo. I actually bought Christmas itself (Muppet Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street and Father Christmas/The Snowman) for practically nothing (£13, free delivery) from HMV, my new best friend in an online shop sort of way. It's a Wonderful Life is in storage - sob! On the present front, Crabtree and Evelyn, Amazon and Boots have done their online bit. ELC, Azdaz (that's Asda to you) and Sainsburys have done their bit as well over the last wee while, but they don't count as they weren't online or tonight or specifically for present shopping.Except...there's still the ones I have to make, which is why I'm celebrating the small amount of money just parted with. I haven't got anyone anything much, I've got a pile of stuff that could theoretically be assembled into gifts. I should probably make them, so I can establish they're unacceptable, sob over them, and buy something else. Or, go for something totally different and give everyone a sandwich for Christmas. I would cut it into a star, it would be festive. And unique. I think I'm onto something here. The Christmas Sandwich Co, motto: there's no b in television. Keep up, keep up, it's all coming together beautifully.
I think I'm overexcited again, this is a sort of boingy blog. Gingerbread cookie anyone? Oh you're asleep. Oh. Right. It's 2am. It's 2am? Oh.
Random thought: I remembered something else I liked from TV this year.
That Pushing Daisies thing. I liked that. It was smile inducing.
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
Love thy condom
Wednesday morning 9am:
Honest child: Mummy! Mummy! I've got a sore head
Sleepy Mother: Why are you all wet?
HC: I banged my head in the bathroom
SM: Shit! Shit! No! Not shit! I didn't say that! Jesus! What's that noise?
HC: Shit shit shit shit shit
SM: No don't say that
Turn the taps off
Shit
There's water all over the floor
HC: shit shit shit
Oblivious child: Ha ha ha ha shit shit
Less sleepy mother turns off taps, uses every towel , clean or dirty, in the house to mop up floor, prays floor is sealed properly and woman downstairs doesn't come knocking. 4 loads of washing follow as the machine can't cope with that many wet towels.
Wednesday later on sometime:
Foolish mother writes blog entry.
Realisation that children are suspiciously quiet.
Discovery that an entire large tub of aqueous cream and vicks vaporub have been used to decorate the bedroom walls, both children, both beds and the book case. Handy wet towels to mop everything down considered momentary blessing. Another load of washing of encreamed clothing and bedding.
Wednesday, even later:
Two children doing laps up and down the hall, screeching in that precise tone that makes your eardrums pack their bags and start venting about their unwillingness to continue in their position. Up and down. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee no don't do that wobbieeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
And down EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEollllieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee that's miiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnneeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
and up again
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEMummmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
fuckeeeng fuckeeeng jeeeeeeeezezEEEEEEEE
for about an hour.
I have a very sore head and am currently ignoring them take all the washing out of my washing basket. Well, it aint going to get washed today. They're in the washing basket, it's perfect, it has two sections, one for whites, one for coloureds. Or one for one brother, one for the other. I might put them in the machine. They're stuck in the washing basket...
>short interlude<
It is 4 months and 1 week till they start nursery.
Honest child: Mummy! Mummy! I've got a sore head
Sleepy Mother: Why are you all wet?
HC: I banged my head in the bathroom
SM: Shit! Shit! No! Not shit! I didn't say that! Jesus! What's that noise?
HC: Shit shit shit shit shit
SM: No don't say that
Turn the taps off
Shit
There's water all over the floor
HC: shit shit shit
Oblivious child: Ha ha ha ha shit shit
Less sleepy mother turns off taps, uses every towel , clean or dirty, in the house to mop up floor, prays floor is sealed properly and woman downstairs doesn't come knocking. 4 loads of washing follow as the machine can't cope with that many wet towels.
Wednesday later on sometime:
Foolish mother writes blog entry.
Realisation that children are suspiciously quiet.
Discovery that an entire large tub of aqueous cream and vicks vaporub have been used to decorate the bedroom walls, both children, both beds and the book case. Handy wet towels to mop everything down considered momentary blessing. Another load of washing of encreamed clothing and bedding.
Wednesday, even later:
Two children doing laps up and down the hall, screeching in that precise tone that makes your eardrums pack their bags and start venting about their unwillingness to continue in their position. Up and down. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee no don't do that wobbieeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
And down EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEollllieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee that's miiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnneeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
and up again
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEMummmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
fuckeeeng fuckeeeng jeeeeeeeezezEEEEEEEE
for about an hour.
I have a very sore head and am currently ignoring them take all the washing out of my washing basket. Well, it aint going to get washed today. They're in the washing basket, it's perfect, it has two sections, one for whites, one for coloureds. Or one for one brother, one for the other. I might put them in the machine. They're stuck in the washing basket...
>short interlude<
It is 4 months and 1 week till they start nursery.
Humble Pie (and being a suckass)
Oh, I feel bad.
I'm way too cynical to accept authenticity, but a very nice comment just left reminded me that anyone at all can read this. Mostly, they don't, but sometimes they do.
And there's me being entirely mean about Psychologies magazine, which I do actually like. I do. I complain lots because I dutifully do the quizzes and it tells me things I already know, but I like doing the quizzes. There's been more than once that I've read an article that makes me feel like the mad things I'm feeling are entirely normal. I like most of the contributers (especially Oliver James, incidentally) and I, erm, like the magazine. I buy, and keep, every issue and it's wrong to be mean. I like psychology, I buy books based on the ones they feature, it's a worthwhile magazine and is one of the few I feel that is aimed at people like me.
That particular article was less good than normal, it irritated me because it sort of suggested that the reader is unaware of normal issues and needs a crisis to think about ethics and not being greedy and extravagant. But this is not the norm for this magazine, the articles are normally very good, the rest of this issue is of the usual standard, the free journal is excellent and I feel I need to point all this out to the other Psychologies reader who reads this. (Please buy it! I'll buy it for you!)
I am a bad person. I did persuade a lady in Tesco to buy last month's issue, I am partially vindicating myself for this reason.
I'm way too cynical to accept authenticity, but a very nice comment just left reminded me that anyone at all can read this. Mostly, they don't, but sometimes they do.
And there's me being entirely mean about Psychologies magazine, which I do actually like. I do. I complain lots because I dutifully do the quizzes and it tells me things I already know, but I like doing the quizzes. There's been more than once that I've read an article that makes me feel like the mad things I'm feeling are entirely normal. I like most of the contributers (especially Oliver James, incidentally) and I, erm, like the magazine. I buy, and keep, every issue and it's wrong to be mean. I like psychology, I buy books based on the ones they feature, it's a worthwhile magazine and is one of the few I feel that is aimed at people like me.
That particular article was less good than normal, it irritated me because it sort of suggested that the reader is unaware of normal issues and needs a crisis to think about ethics and not being greedy and extravagant. But this is not the norm for this magazine, the articles are normally very good, the rest of this issue is of the usual standard, the free journal is excellent and I feel I need to point all this out to the other Psychologies reader who reads this. (Please buy it! I'll buy it for you!)
I am a bad person. I did persuade a lady in Tesco to buy last month's issue, I am partially vindicating myself for this reason.
Other People's Thoughts
I think of things too late. So here stands thoughts based on what other people have said:
On politeness:
I tend to be pretty polite, I always says please and thank you and all that, I speak to people, all people, I don't treat anyone like they are less than me and have the same inane chat with someone, whoever they are. I do this for two reasons: 1) I always have some banal thought in my head that I want to voice, be it to the car or to the binman, and 2) no matter who it is, they have something to say and might well want to voice it themselves. It might be fascinating, it might be boring, but it's rare that one or both of you don't have a moment of interactive happiness just from exchanging a few words.
So, the supermarket. Here comes me: blether, blether, ooh, isn't it cold, what a lovely packaging that lettuce has, it's nearly time for lunch, etc etc. Mostly to the checkout staff, because other customers usually think you're mad if you talk to them. Unless you're both looking at the same thing, in which case there's an opening for "ooh, that's lovely isn't it?".
Anyway.
I do that because I do, I don't HAVE to do it. If I'm a bit tired or sleepy or sad, then perhaps I won't instigate chatter, but I don't remain mute if people talk to me. So I find it rather irksome when the person who is supposed to be nice to me, the person who is paid to be nice to me, the checkout operator, fails to even look at me, only mutters the very minimum of necessary words "do you have a loyalty card" and "that's £3m please". Not because they're shy or in a bad mood, no, this has happened to me three times this week: twice because the checkout operator was having a chat with the person at the next desk, and once because she was Reading A Magazine. That's rude. And when the mad customer beams and says a cheery "thank you, bye!" it surely doesn't hurt to say "bye" back?
Gah.
On Nintendo:
I've loved Mario for a long time. Longer than I've loved anyone else other than maybe Worzel Gummidge, but Mario has had far more of my time. From glimpsing him first on the first Gameboy, to coveting him on the NES, owning him properly on my own SNES, watching him 3D on the 64 and Gamecube and then flying through space on the Wii as well as being 3D and platform on the DS. And there's all his other adventures: Mario Tennis, Mario Golf, Super Smash Brothers and the sublime and addictive Mariokart. All actually good renditions of the sport they're meant to be, but with the silliness and humour of Mario.
Mariokart.
Mariokart.
The greatest game that ever played.
The DS version is probably the best. Retro, but good.
I've played Nintendo with so many people, people used to come round just to play Mariokart, or Mario Bros depending on their gender. It's fun. Playing Mariokart sure beats showing everyone just how bad a singer I am and infuriating them all by the fact that although I sound like a strangled cat, I'm actually scoring quite well because I am accurate if unlistenable to. But I do restrict it mostly to Mario titles. I mostly ignore the fact that a PSOne, PS2 and now an XBox 360 have joined the household, there's no Mario, there's no point. I can't stand regular driving games, it's going round and round and round in circles, then blinging your car and driving slightly faster in circles. No humour, no violence, no cheating. Pah! I do quite like Driver and GTA, because you have to do missions and shoot people, but I'm not very good at them. I have played a fighting game precisely once (not including Super Smash Brothers), it was Tekken 2, and I got killed immediately by someone's laser eyes, so that was that. War games are unnecessary, and I've never got the Sim thing.
So, if it's about Mario walking about collecting things and jumping on turtles, I'm hooked. Or sports titles where you do something relatively interesting - the Wii is pretty good for this. Some of the titles available leave me cold; Animal Crossing and all those role play pretend life things are boring as hell. They're primarily DS anyway, and everyone knows that's for Brain Training, Trauma Center and emergency Mariokart. Wii's a bit different, it's interactive again, it's sort of addictive because you can be crap, that's ok, you're better next time and it's very proud of you when you are. It's like your friend. I do believe that everyone can enjoy this, even my Mum likes playing golf. Even I like playing golf and can nod appreciatively when people talk about albatrosses and irons. You don't need other people, but if there's other people around, they can join in. And you don't need to have the 1000 crap titles. Go old school. You know you want to.
On politeness:
I tend to be pretty polite, I always says please and thank you and all that, I speak to people, all people, I don't treat anyone like they are less than me and have the same inane chat with someone, whoever they are. I do this for two reasons: 1) I always have some banal thought in my head that I want to voice, be it to the car or to the binman, and 2) no matter who it is, they have something to say and might well want to voice it themselves. It might be fascinating, it might be boring, but it's rare that one or both of you don't have a moment of interactive happiness just from exchanging a few words.
So, the supermarket. Here comes me: blether, blether, ooh, isn't it cold, what a lovely packaging that lettuce has, it's nearly time for lunch, etc etc. Mostly to the checkout staff, because other customers usually think you're mad if you talk to them. Unless you're both looking at the same thing, in which case there's an opening for "ooh, that's lovely isn't it?".
Anyway.
I do that because I do, I don't HAVE to do it. If I'm a bit tired or sleepy or sad, then perhaps I won't instigate chatter, but I don't remain mute if people talk to me. So I find it rather irksome when the person who is supposed to be nice to me, the person who is paid to be nice to me, the checkout operator, fails to even look at me, only mutters the very minimum of necessary words "do you have a loyalty card" and "that's £3m please". Not because they're shy or in a bad mood, no, this has happened to me three times this week: twice because the checkout operator was having a chat with the person at the next desk, and once because she was Reading A Magazine. That's rude. And when the mad customer beams and says a cheery "thank you, bye!" it surely doesn't hurt to say "bye" back?
Gah.
On Nintendo:
I've loved Mario for a long time. Longer than I've loved anyone else other than maybe Worzel Gummidge, but Mario has had far more of my time. From glimpsing him first on the first Gameboy, to coveting him on the NES, owning him properly on my own SNES, watching him 3D on the 64 and Gamecube and then flying through space on the Wii as well as being 3D and platform on the DS. And there's all his other adventures: Mario Tennis, Mario Golf, Super Smash Brothers and the sublime and addictive Mariokart. All actually good renditions of the sport they're meant to be, but with the silliness and humour of Mario.Mariokart.
Mariokart.
The greatest game that ever played.
The DS version is probably the best. Retro, but good.
I've played Nintendo with so many people, people used to come round just to play Mariokart, or Mario Bros depending on their gender. It's fun. Playing Mariokart sure beats showing everyone just how bad a singer I am and infuriating them all by the fact that although I sound like a strangled cat, I'm actually scoring quite well because I am accurate if unlistenable to. But I do restrict it mostly to Mario titles. I mostly ignore the fact that a PSOne, PS2 and now an XBox 360 have joined the household, there's no Mario, there's no point. I can't stand regular driving games, it's going round and round and round in circles, then blinging your car and driving slightly faster in circles. No humour, no violence, no cheating. Pah! I do quite like Driver and GTA, because you have to do missions and shoot people, but I'm not very good at them. I have played a fighting game precisely once (not including Super Smash Brothers), it was Tekken 2, and I got killed immediately by someone's laser eyes, so that was that. War games are unnecessary, and I've never got the Sim thing.
So, if it's about Mario walking about collecting things and jumping on turtles, I'm hooked. Or sports titles where you do something relatively interesting - the Wii is pretty good for this. Some of the titles available leave me cold; Animal Crossing and all those role play pretend life things are boring as hell. They're primarily DS anyway, and everyone knows that's for Brain Training, Trauma Center and emergency Mariokart. Wii's a bit different, it's interactive again, it's sort of addictive because you can be crap, that's ok, you're better next time and it's very proud of you when you are. It's like your friend. I do believe that everyone can enjoy this, even my Mum likes playing golf. Even I like playing golf and can nod appreciatively when people talk about albatrosses and irons. You don't need other people, but if there's other people around, they can join in. And you don't need to have the 1000 crap titles. Go old school. You know you want to.
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
This is the future
Well, it's the 9th of December, which according to all the magazines means it's New Year.
Happy New Year everyone!!!
Auld Lang Syne On Ocarina - The best video clips are here
Time to reflect over 2008 and look onward to 2009...
You may not have noticed, but there's been a bit of economic downturn this year. It's been mentioned here and there. If the media's anything to go by, you've probably had your house repossessed and lost your job, so you'll have sold your computer and you're just imagining you're reading this.
So. Psychologies magazine, which I buy each month to complain about, has predictions about what *we* are going to be doing in 2009. Mostly as a result of the money thing, it makes us appreciate the good things in life because *we* didn't do that before.
Firstly *we* will be looking for serious issues in fiction and drama, and have an increased interest in political affairs. *We* will be buying DVD box sets (because that's how *we* see things) of things like The Wire. At the same time *we* will be looking for escapist glitzy culture because obviously *we*'re going to be a bit confused by all that serious stuff *we*'ve never considered before and will need something to lose ourselves in. Perhaps hiding the serious novels in a maze would help everyone?
*We*'re going to start looking for spirituality and may consider going to church. The church, in an attempt to connect with all these new confused and cynical people, will go through radical changes in a complete about turn of what the church is actually about. *We* have moved away from the relationships formed from duty and *we* will embrace these relationships once more.
*We* will rethink our values and have the shocking revelation that society of recent years has been fuelled by greed. Stunned by this realisation *we* will rethink how we treat the world and generally be better people as a result. This won't cause us to be more moral, no, that's old fashioned, but *we* may think more about whether *we* cause harm by our actions.
< some of us did that already, I'm sure it's not the realisation of the greed thing: I didn't just notice>
*We* won't do anything about our health, but there's new stuff being researched. How nice to know that the researchers are going to do something, presumably they've been saving up the last few years for this Year of Research. Meantime, Oliver James, cheermonger extraordinaire, tells us *we*'re all going to be more prone to depression and stress, which is an profound thought; people might find losing their houses and jobs a bit upsetting. On the plus side, *we* might come to realise that *we* don't need so many things and that our career is the only thing that gives us meaning. *We* may even manage without two incomes.
Leisure pursuits. Well, sadly *we*'re going to give up the lavish and extravagant overseas holidays. *We* will be looking for cheaper ways to spend our time. Heavens, *we* might do things like go to the seaside or take walks. *We* wil also embrace what is known as "bushcraft" holidays where you learn survival skills in the woods.
*We*'re going to grow our own veg and eat out less in another astonishing revelation that not spending money is a good way to economise.
And in a prediction that makes less than no sense, the majority of people will be single, while more people will get together in a need to be with someone. This includes married people who won't be able to afford a divorce so will have affairs instead. The author of this does gratifyingly use the word "paradoxically", before confusing the issue most of all by talking about organic relationships and retro dating.
So, to recap, we're going to pretty much like the same entertainment we did already, join the church and reconnect with our families, think about being ethical, spend less money, go camping in the woods and have lots of affairs.
I'm going to make the most of the rest of this year.
Happy New Year everyone!!!
Auld Lang Syne On Ocarina - The best video clips are here
Time to reflect over 2008 and look onward to 2009...
You may not have noticed, but there's been a bit of economic downturn this year. It's been mentioned here and there. If the media's anything to go by, you've probably had your house repossessed and lost your job, so you'll have sold your computer and you're just imagining you're reading this.
So. Psychologies magazine, which I buy each month to complain about, has predictions about what *we* are going to be doing in 2009. Mostly as a result of the money thing, it makes us appreciate the good things in life because *we* didn't do that before.
Firstly *we* will be looking for serious issues in fiction and drama, and have an increased interest in political affairs. *We* will be buying DVD box sets (because that's how *we* see things) of things like The Wire. At the same time *we* will be looking for escapist glitzy culture because obviously *we*'re going to be a bit confused by all that serious stuff *we*'ve never considered before and will need something to lose ourselves in. Perhaps hiding the serious novels in a maze would help everyone?
*We*'re going to start looking for spirituality and may consider going to church. The church, in an attempt to connect with all these new confused and cynical people, will go through radical changes in a complete about turn of what the church is actually about. *We* have moved away from the relationships formed from duty and *we* will embrace these relationships once more.
*We* will rethink our values and have the shocking revelation that society of recent years has been fuelled by greed. Stunned by this realisation *we* will rethink how we treat the world and generally be better people as a result. This won't cause us to be more moral, no, that's old fashioned, but *we* may think more about whether *we* cause harm by our actions.
*We* won't do anything about our health, but there's new stuff being researched. How nice to know that the researchers are going to do something, presumably they've been saving up the last few years for this Year of Research. Meantime, Oliver James, cheermonger extraordinaire, tells us *we*'re all going to be more prone to depression and stress, which is an profound thought; people might find losing their houses and jobs a bit upsetting. On the plus side, *we* might come to realise that *we* don't need so many things and that our career is the only thing that gives us meaning. *We* may even manage without two incomes.
Leisure pursuits. Well, sadly *we*'re going to give up the lavish and extravagant overseas holidays. *We* will be looking for cheaper ways to spend our time. Heavens, *we* might do things like go to the seaside or take walks. *We* wil also embrace what is known as "bushcraft" holidays where you learn survival skills in the woods.
*We*'re going to grow our own veg and eat out less in another astonishing revelation that not spending money is a good way to economise.
And in a prediction that makes less than no sense, the majority of people will be single, while more people will get together in a need to be with someone. This includes married people who won't be able to afford a divorce so will have affairs instead. The author of this does gratifyingly use the word "paradoxically", before confusing the issue most of all by talking about organic relationships and retro dating.
So, to recap, we're going to pretty much like the same entertainment we did already, join the church and reconnect with our families, think about being ethical, spend less money, go camping in the woods and have lots of affairs.
I'm going to make the most of the rest of this year.
Monday, 8 December 2008
When in doubt, tell the truth
Copied duly from Sam, whose pages are ever so much prettier than this.
And that is all I can think of for now.
Truths, as I think them, for the definitely generic "you"
- That which you take for granted, you will miss most when it's gone
- You are what you eat: I am a cauliflower
- Anticipation is not as good as a pleasant surprise
- Love makes you determined
- You only have other people's word for what happens when you're not there
- Everyone receives at least one chocolate orange every Christmas
- Kittens are cute. Noone could hate a kitten
- You cannot change the past, the future can be anything you want it to be
- You're smarter than you think you are, braver than you think you are, and stronger than you think you are. You're probably not as funny as you think you are
- If something doesn't cost you any money, it doesn't contain any calories
- Somebody loves you more than you'll ever know
- Something definitely lives under the bed. Don't mess with it, just in case
- The most patriotic people don't live in their homeland
- For each who is annoyed by small talk, there are one hundred for whom it can make their day
- Hope may be the cruelest emotion, but if we cease to dream, we cease to live
- Sweet potatoes make an excellent substitute for swede
- Notice everything. Everything has something beautiful to share
- Believe in whatever makes you happy. Don't let anyone take it away from you
And that is all I can think of for now.
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Lost in Transgression
I've loved cars since I was old enough to think about it. My first remembered car-crush was on a Lotus Esprit that I passed on the bus on the way to school; looked like this one:
Then I moved onto BMWs, which adorned my walls as a teenager. I passed my driving test as soon as I turned 17, then had a fairly long term crush on Volkswagen.
I sort of had a Golf when I persuaded my mum she needed that when she needed a new car and then most obligingly got a job where she got a lift every day. Selfishly, when I left home, she kept it though, so many moons later, I got my first car at the age of not-quite-25. Off I toddled to ogle the Volkswagens, looking at probably a 3-4 year old Polo or similar, maybe something a little cheaper. Stopping smoking had provided the funds, all I needed to do was choose which little car was going to be mine.
I came home with a 5 month old 1.0l (973cc to be precise) Vauxhall Corsa, by mistake. Despite the woeful lack of power, it was a great little car. It had a tiny tank, but it still drove from Worcester to Kirkcaldy on one tank. The Golf, which I had been allowed one trip south to source a place to live, got as far as Knutsford going south. I transported a double bed (with foldable mattress and the base on the roof rack) , several Billy bookcases, a wardrobe, a sofa and various other items at different times in the Corsa. It did many pootles rounds Worcester between massive drives north and really did ok. The potential arrival of twins meant a bigger car was needed, as well as the fact that my husband had passed his test (finally! I taught him, you know) meant that he took ownership of the Corsa and I got the most wonderful car in the world, my Volvo. I loved that car. I had a most anxious ferry trip in a storm with my baby strapped up in the cargo area, I was so pleased to see it in one piece after that. Yet, I killed it just over a month later and that was where the whole car thing started to unravel...
My current car is a Vectra. I don't love it. I had an all consuming crush on it when I got it, it's ever such a nice colour and it is like the Corsa with power. Then bits started to creak and groan, and I had two massive skids which were freaky and thankfully caused no more damage than a broken wheel. I dream of owning a BMW.
Except, no, I don't any more. I have sort of fake daydreams where I'm the old me and I loved driving and don't care about things and it's just not real.
So I started to listen to people. Mostly people I have a giant crush on. Like Marcus Brigstocke. It went in. Something weird has happened to me and I'm starting to care about things. Cars aren't that great. We should all ride bikes, get the train, walk. Walk a bit more.
What? Hello? Where did that come from? Next you'll be a vegetarian.
Oh.
So there's me for approximately 30 years: I love cars. Technology is the future, we should endeavour to build better roads, climate change is random and chaotic and unpredictable: we should all drive BMWs. Food chain things, we breed animals to eat them, it's the way of the world, we've got teeth for eating meat; we're built to eat meat, you can't get proper nutrition from vegetables; everyone should eat steak.
A bit of wavering from the age of 31 (30-31 was mostly spent being pregnant and I didn't think anything) and insisting on organic milk, trying to buy local stuff and obsessing about seasons and buying free range everything. Not hard to go anti-plane: although it's fun to take off and land, flying is a painful experience. Horrible waits after tedious check ins with increasingly strict rules, cramped space on the plane, constant hassle to buy stuff, tedious waits for bags, etc etc. It's not fun. If you're going a relatively short distance, get the train. If you're going to Australia, then yes, perhaps the plane is the best option. If you're going to London, it's probably not. 4 x 4s are just wrong, so wrong in so many ways. Not least because they make every other car on the road less safe, so if you want a safe car, you need a 4 x 4 because other people have them and they might hit you. Ban them all. Bring back Ken.
Then wham! I'm a vegetarian. Bam! I think we should all cycle everywhere unless it's too far then we get the train. I am not practicing this at the moment, I still drive, but it makes me feel GUILTY I justify it because I take the children with me most of the time. I produced a coherent argument as to why we should have congestion charging.
Is this growing up? Why now? It's not making me happy, it's making me question everything else I thought I knew to be true. I don't like it.
Then I moved onto BMWs, which adorned my walls as a teenager. I passed my driving test as soon as I turned 17, then had a fairly long term crush on Volkswagen.
I sort of had a Golf when I persuaded my mum she needed that when she needed a new car and then most obligingly got a job where she got a lift every day. Selfishly, when I left home, she kept it though, so many moons later, I got my first car at the age of not-quite-25. Off I toddled to ogle the Volkswagens, looking at probably a 3-4 year old Polo or similar, maybe something a little cheaper. Stopping smoking had provided the funds, all I needed to do was choose which little car was going to be mine.
I came home with a 5 month old 1.0l (973cc to be precise) Vauxhall Corsa, by mistake. Despite the woeful lack of power, it was a great little car. It had a tiny tank, but it still drove from Worcester to Kirkcaldy on one tank. The Golf, which I had been allowed one trip south to source a place to live, got as far as Knutsford going south. I transported a double bed (with foldable mattress and the base on the roof rack) , several Billy bookcases, a wardrobe, a sofa and various other items at different times in the Corsa. It did many pootles rounds Worcester between massive drives north and really did ok. The potential arrival of twins meant a bigger car was needed, as well as the fact that my husband had passed his test (finally! I taught him, you know) meant that he took ownership of the Corsa and I got the most wonderful car in the world, my Volvo. I loved that car. I had a most anxious ferry trip in a storm with my baby strapped up in the cargo area, I was so pleased to see it in one piece after that. Yet, I killed it just over a month later and that was where the whole car thing started to unravel...
My current car is a Vectra. I don't love it. I had an all consuming crush on it when I got it, it's ever such a nice colour and it is like the Corsa with power. Then bits started to creak and groan, and I had two massive skids which were freaky and thankfully caused no more damage than a broken wheel. I dream of owning a BMW.
Except, no, I don't any more. I have sort of fake daydreams where I'm the old me and I loved driving and don't care about things and it's just not real.
So I started to listen to people. Mostly people I have a giant crush on. Like Marcus Brigstocke. It went in. Something weird has happened to me and I'm starting to care about things. Cars aren't that great. We should all ride bikes, get the train, walk. Walk a bit more.
What? Hello? Where did that come from? Next you'll be a vegetarian.
Oh.
So there's me for approximately 30 years: I love cars. Technology is the future, we should endeavour to build better roads, climate change is random and chaotic and unpredictable: we should all drive BMWs. Food chain things, we breed animals to eat them, it's the way of the world, we've got teeth for eating meat; we're built to eat meat, you can't get proper nutrition from vegetables; everyone should eat steak.
A bit of wavering from the age of 31 (30-31 was mostly spent being pregnant and I didn't think anything) and insisting on organic milk, trying to buy local stuff and obsessing about seasons and buying free range everything. Not hard to go anti-plane: although it's fun to take off and land, flying is a painful experience. Horrible waits after tedious check ins with increasingly strict rules, cramped space on the plane, constant hassle to buy stuff, tedious waits for bags, etc etc. It's not fun. If you're going a relatively short distance, get the train. If you're going to Australia, then yes, perhaps the plane is the best option. If you're going to London, it's probably not. 4 x 4s are just wrong, so wrong in so many ways. Not least because they make every other car on the road less safe, so if you want a safe car, you need a 4 x 4 because other people have them and they might hit you. Ban them all. Bring back Ken.
Then wham! I'm a vegetarian. Bam! I think we should all cycle everywhere unless it's too far then we get the train. I am not practicing this at the moment, I still drive, but it makes me feel GUILTY I justify it because I take the children with me most of the time. I produced a coherent argument as to why we should have congestion charging.
Is this growing up? Why now? It's not making me happy, it's making me question everything else I thought I knew to be true. I don't like it.
Friday, 5 December 2008
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Ignorance
That's my ignorance I refer to by the way. Just in case anyone hasn't got the time to read past the first line and wants to decide I'm mocking someone else.
I'm reading this book just now, called "Who Runs Britain... and who's to blame for the economic mess we're in" by Robert Peston. I would like to know the answer to this question, hence the purchasing of the book. I am on page 5, due to courseworks and what not, so I'm not all that in a position to judge.
But I can judge myself. And I'm off on a talk-about-myself thing, I do apologise. Blame Chandler.
I'm back to this whole "I don't know what I think" thing. I make a crap anarchist, because if someone's in charge, I get all meek and think "ooh, how exciting, he's in charge, how very assertive". (if it's a he; if it's a she then I think, ooh she's not very pretty, no wonder she went into politics). I like being told what to do. Within reason. If I kind of wanted to do it anyway.
I want to be told to do the things I want to have the freedom to decide that I want to do. On the fence a bit on that one.
Libertarian: make your own decisions. Nope. Too much responsibility. No thanks.
Fascist: force me to do things I don't want to do. No thanks.
Next?
Right's bad, right? So why does David Cameron make so much sense? Is he from the shiny happy wing that like social cohesion and want to join Europe? Does that really exist?
And why does Boris Johnson make so little sense? No, Boris, don't listen to the people, they don't know what they're talking about... oh you did it anyway. Never mind. "We love you because you bumble". No. No bumbling. Be assertive.
Nick Clegg's nice. He always says nice things. Very nice. Totally harmless. Being nice. I just looked to see if there was anything not-nice about him and the worst I could find was that he'd said he'd slept with no more than 30 women. Oh, really. How terrible. Obviously we all want virginal politicians that bumble. Anyway, I likes him: can promise the moon on a stick as will never have to provide, thus promises little pretend moons on matchsticks because that's rather nice.
I have no idea what Gordon Brown says about anything because I think he has a nice voice and immediately switch off. It's not intentional, I find him very boring. He's a lovely MP, he writes occasionally about how much he wants to improve Kirkcaldy and is often seen at the Rovers, but yawwwwwnnn. Oh, you did what? We spent how much? And you're not... ok. Alistair Darling, similar problem, I watch his eyebrows and the words wash over me. I can't remember who the rest of them are, those government types, boring people that drivel on. I like some of what they say, I'm kind of annoyed about the whole war/economy thing, I don't really care about them. VAT, woop, I've saved about 10p this week, I appear to mostly buy VAT free goods anyway. I buy a wodge of things, look at the receipt, Total bill: £45.97 VAT saving: £0.02. Oh wow! Really? Every little 2p adds up. If I start buying stuff I don't normally. Biscuits. I need more biscuits in my life just to appreciate the VAT decrease.
So, as demonstrated, I'm a bit clueless.
And back to the book...
I was slightly dubious as he's from the BBC and they might just possibly be a teeny bit biased against the government, but hey, no conclusions jumping. But he's not really. He's one of those people that absolutely categorically knows what's right in his mind, he knows exactly what he thinks and what he believes in. I want that. I want to know. I don't want to be woolly and impressed by young, nice, unbumbling people in suits.
I want to care. I want to be passionate like I was about hating Jack McConnell. I knew I hated everything he said, it was easy, shout "you're an idiot!" at the TV a lot, object to every word he says. Easy. Why can't I hate the rest of them like that? I need to hate more, then I'd care more, then I'd know what I believed.
I'm reading this book just now, called "Who Runs Britain... and who's to blame for the economic mess we're in" by Robert Peston. I would like to know the answer to this question, hence the purchasing of the book. I am on page 5, due to courseworks and what not, so I'm not all that in a position to judge.
But I can judge myself. And I'm off on a talk-about-myself thing, I do apologise. Blame Chandler.
I'm back to this whole "I don't know what I think" thing. I make a crap anarchist, because if someone's in charge, I get all meek and think "ooh, how exciting, he's in charge, how very assertive". (if it's a he; if it's a she then I think, ooh she's not very pretty, no wonder she went into politics). I like being told what to do. Within reason. If I kind of wanted to do it anyway.
I want to be told to do the things I want to have the freedom to decide that I want to do. On the fence a bit on that one.
Libertarian: make your own decisions. Nope. Too much responsibility. No thanks.
Fascist: force me to do things I don't want to do. No thanks.
Next?
Right's bad, right? So why does David Cameron make so much sense? Is he from the shiny happy wing that like social cohesion and want to join Europe? Does that really exist?
And why does Boris Johnson make so little sense? No, Boris, don't listen to the people, they don't know what they're talking about... oh you did it anyway. Never mind. "We love you because you bumble". No. No bumbling. Be assertive.
Nick Clegg's nice. He always says nice things. Very nice. Totally harmless. Being nice. I just looked to see if there was anything not-nice about him and the worst I could find was that he'd said he'd slept with no more than 30 women. Oh, really. How terrible. Obviously we all want virginal politicians that bumble. Anyway, I likes him: can promise the moon on a stick as will never have to provide, thus promises little pretend moons on matchsticks because that's rather nice.
I have no idea what Gordon Brown says about anything because I think he has a nice voice and immediately switch off. It's not intentional, I find him very boring. He's a lovely MP, he writes occasionally about how much he wants to improve Kirkcaldy and is often seen at the Rovers, but yawwwwwnnn. Oh, you did what? We spent how much? And you're not... ok. Alistair Darling, similar problem, I watch his eyebrows and the words wash over me. I can't remember who the rest of them are, those government types, boring people that drivel on. I like some of what they say, I'm kind of annoyed about the whole war/economy thing, I don't really care about them. VAT, woop, I've saved about 10p this week, I appear to mostly buy VAT free goods anyway. I buy a wodge of things, look at the receipt, Total bill: £45.97 VAT saving: £0.02. Oh wow! Really? Every little 2p adds up. If I start buying stuff I don't normally. Biscuits. I need more biscuits in my life just to appreciate the VAT decrease.
So, as demonstrated, I'm a bit clueless.
And back to the book...
I was slightly dubious as he's from the BBC and they might just possibly be a teeny bit biased against the government, but hey, no conclusions jumping. But he's not really. He's one of those people that absolutely categorically knows what's right in his mind, he knows exactly what he thinks and what he believes in. I want that. I want to know. I don't want to be woolly and impressed by young, nice, unbumbling people in suits.
I want to care. I want to be passionate like I was about hating Jack McConnell. I knew I hated everything he said, it was easy, shout "you're an idiot!" at the TV a lot, object to every word he says. Easy. Why can't I hate the rest of them like that? I need to hate more, then I'd care more, then I'd know what I believed.
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Freaking out
Aargh! Eek! OMIGOD!
I am having a freaking out attack. Like actually having a racing heartrate and difficulty breathing.
I can't do this work! I don't understand it! I've got no time to do it!
And I've gone retarded. I just wrote an email of apology, starting with "I am really sorry" but I missed out the word "sorry" so it says "I am really".
Insert word of choice: sorry, stupid, careless, ambivalent, thirsty, looking forward to the weekend, sick... the options are literally endless.
Never mind. I said sorry again later. Or to be precise, "please accept my apologies" because it was THAT type of email. Mince for brains. Mince.
Anyway, deep breath, can concentrate. It's ok. I can do this.
I need a ruler and a pencil. This is alien. Where do I keep these things? I only normally need them for exams. Exam stuff. Umm. My phone has a ruler on it but the edges are a bit phone-y.
I am going to locate a ruler. I may be some time. Don't wait up. Unless you have a ruler?
UPDATE: no ruler was forthcoming in the drawer-where-things-like-rulers-live (although I did find a number of pens, two automatic pencils, a lipstick and my calculator as well as the stuff expected to be there) nor was one apparent in any of the stashy hideyholes, so a trip to Asda was required to purchase a ruler. I miss my desk, but I now have a ruler. Hurrah!
I am having a freaking out attack. Like actually having a racing heartrate and difficulty breathing.
I can't do this work! I don't understand it! I've got no time to do it!
And I've gone retarded. I just wrote an email of apology, starting with "I am really sorry" but I missed out the word "sorry" so it says "I am really".
Insert word of choice: sorry, stupid, careless, ambivalent, thirsty, looking forward to the weekend, sick... the options are literally endless.
Never mind. I said sorry again later. Or to be precise, "please accept my apologies" because it was THAT type of email. Mince for brains. Mince.
Anyway, deep breath, can concentrate. It's ok. I can do this.
I need a ruler and a pencil. This is alien. Where do I keep these things? I only normally need them for exams. Exam stuff. Umm. My phone has a ruler on it but the edges are a bit phone-y.
I am going to locate a ruler. I may be some time. Don't wait up. Unless you have a ruler?
UPDATE: no ruler was forthcoming in the drawer-where-things-like-rulers-live (although I did find a number of pens, two automatic pencils, a lipstick and my calculator as well as the stuff expected to be there) nor was one apparent in any of the stashy hideyholes, so a trip to Asda was required to purchase a ruler. I miss my desk, but I now have a ruler. Hurrah!
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
Christmas wishes
I wish that...
...all my Christmas shopping was bought
...I didn't say stupid things All The Time. this amount of fretting is alarming.
...my assignment was in
...Christmas was really all snow and log fires and singing
...Santa would really pop in on Christmas eve
...I didn't have to spend money offending people by how little I spent. Why don't we all bake each other cookies?
...everyone could have a little bit of joy today, just because it's December and Christmas is in the air
...I had office parties to go to, even the official one
...I'd never seem The Office Christmas specials so I could see them for the first time.
And most of all I wish you a very happy pre-Christmas fuzzy moment.
...all my Christmas shopping was bought
...I didn't say stupid things All The Time. this amount of fretting is alarming.
...my assignment was in
...Christmas was really all snow and log fires and singing
...Santa would really pop in on Christmas eve
...I didn't have to spend money offending people by how little I spent. Why don't we all bake each other cookies?
...everyone could have a little bit of joy today, just because it's December and Christmas is in the air
...I had office parties to go to, even the official one
...I'd never seem The Office Christmas specials so I could see them for the first time.
And most of all I wish you a very happy pre-Christmas fuzzy moment.
ohappiday
I just looked at the date. It's the 2nd of December today. The piece of work I'm hyperventilating over is not due till the 4th. Two whole evenings to go. Not one. Two. That's like 12 hours or something.
Christmas arrived yesterday in this house, hurrah hurrah hurrah. Tree is up, sans baubles as they have been lost by Someone Else, so it's covered with candy canes and foil covered chocolate and looks really quite cute. Yesterday we celebrated Andrew Collins by having a holiday, that only the government took, in honour of him. Or maybe it was some other Andrew, I'm not sure. Alex Salmond is obviously a fan.
Talking of Andrew Collins, this is what Nathan Jay's done now, it's amazing:
Oh, I just realised what I have to do with my new found free afternoon, the boys' birthday is one month tomorrow and the card has to be at CBeebies 4 weeks before, so needs posted, erm, today, I think. Yah. It's 4 weeks on Saturday, and given that Christmas gets in the way...
Oh cack.
Action stations. I needs a photo of them. Panic! Panic! Has to be printed too. Still have the CBeebies cheaty stickers to make auto-card. Need glitter!
I feel the need to hyperventilate again.
Christmas arrived yesterday in this house, hurrah hurrah hurrah. Tree is up, sans baubles as they have been lost by Someone Else, so it's covered with candy canes and foil covered chocolate and looks really quite cute. Yesterday we celebrated Andrew Collins by having a holiday, that only the government took, in honour of him. Or maybe it was some other Andrew, I'm not sure. Alex Salmond is obviously a fan.
Talking of Andrew Collins, this is what Nathan Jay's done now, it's amazing:
Oh, I just realised what I have to do with my new found free afternoon, the boys' birthday is one month tomorrow and the card has to be at CBeebies 4 weeks before, so needs posted, erm, today, I think. Yah. It's 4 weeks on Saturday, and given that Christmas gets in the way...
Oh cack.
Action stations. I needs a photo of them. Panic! Panic! Has to be printed too. Still have the CBeebies cheaty stickers to make auto-card. Need glitter!
I feel the need to hyperventilate again.
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Saturday, 29 November 2008
I don't know if you can see, changes that have come over me
Ah, I'm having a patriotic moment. The homesick Scot song, Caledonia on an advert to "try" and persuade Scots to come home in 2009. Because, like, it's so much better here... What do you want with a good job? Beautiful scenery to the left of you, don't look right.
Possible cynicism at the timing, just before Hogmanay and all...
You can view the ad here, if it gets to work, if it doesn't, it features actors Sir Sean Connery and Brian Cox, cycling star Chris Hoy and golfer Sam Torrance, musicians Lulu, Sandi Thom, Eddi Reader and Amy Macdonald, plus Kelly Brown and Thom Evans from the Scotland rugby team.
It's cheesetastic, but it made me proud for a moment. I want Sean Connery to read me bedtime stories. I know, I know, but he's damned lovely. I keep replaying that and swooning at his bit.
This song was featured on one of my favourite ever adverts, a Tennents one from 1990:
Sigh. Grand. I wish it was 1990.
So the guy gets sick of London, he heads home to Scotland, takes in the beauty of Edinburgh... and goes to a pub for a pint of Tennents? Like he wouldn't head to the chippy for a white pudding supper and a tin of Irn Bru?
Irn Bru ought to be the one thing that represents Scotland. It's special. It's magical for curing hangovers. We're the only country in the world (I think) that doesn't have Coke as the best selling soft drink. We have Irn Bru fridges. We have Irn Bru taxis. We love Irn Bru.
Come home, we drink Irn Bru here. That's enough to get anyone home.
Also from about 1990, the best Irn Bru advert ever, a parody of Coke adverts, and erm, it was about 1990, it's not its fault:
More here
I apologise to the eardrums of anyone that clicked all of those, it's all terrible, I know this. It makes me proud to be a Scot though, cheese and all.
Possible cynicism at the timing, just before Hogmanay and all...
You can view the ad here, if it gets to work, if it doesn't, it features actors Sir Sean Connery and Brian Cox, cycling star Chris Hoy and golfer Sam Torrance, musicians Lulu, Sandi Thom, Eddi Reader and Amy Macdonald, plus Kelly Brown and Thom Evans from the Scotland rugby team.
It's cheesetastic, but it made me proud for a moment. I want Sean Connery to read me bedtime stories. I know, I know, but he's damned lovely. I keep replaying that and swooning at his bit.
This song was featured on one of my favourite ever adverts, a Tennents one from 1990:
Sigh. Grand. I wish it was 1990.
So the guy gets sick of London, he heads home to Scotland, takes in the beauty of Edinburgh... and goes to a pub for a pint of Tennents? Like he wouldn't head to the chippy for a white pudding supper and a tin of Irn Bru?
Irn Bru ought to be the one thing that represents Scotland. It's special. It's magical for curing hangovers. We're the only country in the world (I think) that doesn't have Coke as the best selling soft drink. We have Irn Bru fridges. We have Irn Bru taxis. We love Irn Bru.
Come home, we drink Irn Bru here. That's enough to get anyone home.
Also from about 1990, the best Irn Bru advert ever, a parody of Coke adverts, and erm, it was about 1990, it's not its fault:
More here
I apologise to the eardrums of anyone that clicked all of those, it's all terrible, I know this. It makes me proud to be a Scot though, cheese and all.
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