Monday, 15 February 2010

Where I was pretty oblivious for the first couple of hours of the day...

It was Valentine's Day yesterday?

Is that apostrophe appropriate?

Do I even care?

Yes I do!

But it looks good to me, so it stays.

So, yeeeeeah... I sort of forgot until someone tweeted "Happy VD everyone!", which made me laugh, pause, look up to the left and mutter, "oh yeeeeeeah...".

I don't really feel anything towards the day. I've had lovely V-Days in the past, but it's just a day. I wouldn't miss it if the card companies went bust and declared Valentine's Day a discontinued holiday.

Once upon a time, being a single lady (all the single ladies) I might have wallowed, got a little drunk, written a letter, dialed an ex's number a few times and hung up before it began ringing, got a little more drunk and eaten a fuck-load of ice cream (ooh!... I have ice cream... and strawberries... well that's my next half hour mapped out).

Yesterday, I was still a single lady (ALL the single ladies), but I just wasn't fussed.
I generally can't be fussed with the men-folk at the moment, t'be honest. They're a lovely bunch and very nice to talk to and have a larf with, but anything that requires me to engage in any kind of hair removal procedure barely gets a look in.

Saying that, I have developed a mild girl-crush on the new sports girl from The Chris Moyles Show... p'raps I'm edging my way over to the other side.

Tina and I could be great together. She'd jokingly roll her eyes at my lack of sports knowledge and I'd make her a cake, decorated with little footballs. Then Lee Pace would meander past and I'd ask Tina if we could still be friends. Then, after a couple of dates, Lee would suggest that maybe we take things to the next level... specifically the naked one... then I'd tell Lee that that's not the kind of commitment I'm looking for right now, as it would mean shaving my legs, and I hope that we can still be friends.

I hope that when the bigwigs behind Clintons Cards read this blog, they decide to put their weight behind a 'Friends Day'. Valentine's Day is for lovers, but Friends Day is for the people who would just, you know, like to be friends, who aren't really looking for a commitment, who love spending time with you but don't feel that way.

I'm sure it'll be a roaring success. Please send all royalties to my paypal.

Saturday, 13 February 2010

Where I have a catch up with my Dad...

Since making the decision to move to London I've been quite determined to save as much money as I can. This hasn't been easy because I had been off work for a month and I had some of those there taxes (duck islands) to pay for. Now that I've had my first pay-cheque for a couple of months I've sort of forgotten about the 'saving money' mission and have been browsing many-a-website where quirky t-shirts, bearing quirky, nerdy logos can be yours for the mere price of £29.99 each.

Then I spoke to my Dad.

Ah, conversations with my Dad.
They're the best. Full of analogies that feel perfectly at home in high powered business meetings, passionate gesticulating, and no nonsense 'back in my day' style advice. In the middle of moving all my worldly possessions from shared house to Mother's house, we got to talking about the usual; money and politics.

"Don't believe what you hear on the news. There's no way we're creeping out of this recession. Things are going to get worse before they get better. Do you know how much debt we're in? It's as though we've been borrowing a million pounds a day since Jesus was born. We ain't breaking even til at least 2030, til you're 45, when you're my age. I wouldn't get on the property market now. Your Mum and I bought a place the last time things were like this. Do you know how much debt we were in? You know the only people still in work at the moment? The public sector. Come the next election, there's gonna be a cull. Those people have mortgages! How are they gonna pay those mortgages? People who get on the property market at the moment, good luck to them. And you see people your age getting money from The Bank of Mum and Dad to buy those houses. Do you think this Bank of Dad is open?"


"Damn right. My parents had to work hard, I had to work damn hard. This bank is closed. And you know what? Now you're going to see a fight for quality. There are lots of people applying for a small number of jobs. Now the employers can pick and choose who they want to hire. Who are you going to pick between the scruff with his jeans around his arse and the guy who's made an effort?"

"The guy who's made an eff-"

"EXACTLY. So now you're gonna see a fight for quality, a rise in quality. They ain't gonna be hiring just anybody anymore. No way. No, Sir. Now you're gonna see people get desperate and they'll all be saying, 'gimme a job, I'll do that'. The people they need today, the people who can help build and create jobs, they're all obsessed with X-Factor and Big Brother and Facebook. They've been brainwashed against the important things in life and now all of a sudden they're asking, 'what happened? Where's my money?"

"Oh, I've quit Facebook, by the way."

"Good for you, it's too invasive. I signed up to that and thought 'WOAH', this is way too invasive. Twitter, right? Now there's another example of a rise in quality. If people can be engaging and clever in 140 characters or less, then they're an example of a rise in quality. With Facebook it's all waffle and photos and groups and whinging and going on and on. Twitter is less invasive and forces you to boil everything down to the quality and cut out the waffle."

"I'm following some pretty vocal people my age on Twitter, from the left and right. It's interesting to watch the debate rage. I couldn't believe it when Right-Wingers said that Gordon Brown only spoke about the death of his daughter for a PR stunt."

"You're being very naive. You've got a LOT to learn. The only thing politicians care about is getting re-elected. All this recession stuff that's going on at the moment? None of them, not the left, middle, right, whatever - NONE of them have got the answer that's going to save everyone. They all want you to think that they're gonna do something that's never been done before. Whatever happens, someone's going to get done in, someone's getting the short straw. Here's something for you... all this PR? Even Obama."

"No... not 'Golden Boy' Obama?"

"YES Obama. Everyone talks about Bush as the war-mongering president, but there have been more missile launches under Obama than Bush. It's all about PR. The only thing politicians care about is one thing."

"Being re-elected?"

"Being re-elected."

Never a dull conversation with my Dad. Talking to him, or being on the receiving end of his impassioned speeches, anyway, always helps me refocus and feel inspired to do something, anything.

So... keeping in mind the first thing we actually spoke about, with the money and whatnot, about things getting worse before they get better... I might not buy those t-shirts after all. I have plenty of clothes that I never wear anyway...

Tuesday, 29 December 2009

Where I get all obligatory on your asses...

So that was Christmas, and what have I done?

Cooked, baked and eaten LOTS.
My feminist lecturer would have kittens... if she hadn't left her job to get married and have babies.
I've also chained episodes of The Office (the American and, I'm sorry, much superior version) until I had seen everything that Steve Carell and co had to offer. Now I've moved onto Life On Mars, the British version, which I feel is probably better than the American version.
I've spent time with my family and that is still ongoing. Tomorrow we descend upon my extended family for New Year goodness. It's been brilliant spending time at home. Granted, it's not one of the various homes I grew up in, but we've made it a home and it's been absolutely lovely.

This, if you haven't guessed already, is the obligatory 'end of year' blog, which comes after weeks of not posting anything. Aren't I loyal?
But hark, this ain't just any old 'end of year' blog; this is the all singing, all dancing 'END OF DECADE' blog. As Felicity, friend of 13 years, reminded me, in the next decade, "we're turning 30."

Shit. So we are. And what have I done with this one?
A good deal, considering I've gone from 14 to 24, from buying TLC's 'Creep' on cassette tape to downloading Oona's 'Tore My Heart' on iTunes.
From being so, like, TOTALLY in love with Joe Floyd from tutor group to delicately navigating the grey area following the break up of an important relationship.
From wishing I had bigger boobs and better hair and smaller thighs and nicer skin to looking back on old photos of myself and noticing just how great I actually looked.
From having the sole ambition of being a teacher, then an astronaut, then a doctor, then a singer, then an actor, then a social worker, then a paleontologist, then a teacher again to realising that I'd much rather work from home as a writer and spend my evenings shitting my pants while I try to make people laugh.
From deciding that I will never EVER wear dresses and make up and be a girly girl in order to impress boys... to actually quite liking dresses and make up and making myself look nice and realising that girls only ever dress up to impress other girls anyway.

My predictions for the next decade?
I at least hope to have more in my bank account than just enough to cover the following month's rent. I doubt I'll still be living in London. I'm moving there next year and kicking off the decade with a healthy bout of fear, uncertainty and excitement while living in The Big Smoke™, but by 2020 I reckon I'll have moved on... again.
In the meantime, I'll be sticking around for the 2012 Olympics, giggling immaturely at how the logo looks like Lisa Simpson giving head and charging a small but reasonable amount for people to sleep on my floor during the games.
I feel ever so strongly that I'll have a kid by 2020. Not out of any maternal instincts I might have now, but because my Mother will also be a decade older and, despite her protests, will definitely be dropping massive, neon, 'I WANT TO BE A GRANDMOTHER' hints.
Aside from that, lots of writing and keeping fingers in various creative pies, as well as literal pies as I continue my love of baking.
So, in short, by 2020 I expect I'll be a little older (well, more than a little), a little wiser (fingers crossed anyway) and a little wider (pies permitting).

Happy New Year, folks, and can we please come up with a catch-all title for the next decade that's better than the previous one we seem to have settled on?



Thursday, 17 September 2009

Where I become increasingly exasperated with this country...

"Tickets please."

"Can I have a return from Stapleton Road to Weston Super Mare, please?"

"£8.60 please."

"Oh, sorry it was £5.50 yesterday."

"That's after nine o clock. It's still before nine right now."

I need to point out that at the time of this conversation, it was 8.57am.
I was sat in the first carriage of the train which is where the conductor starts his journey from one end of the train to the other, selling and checking tickets.

"So if I was sat further down the train, this ticket would be cheaper?"

"Um... no."

"Will the people you get to in three minutes have a cheaper fare?"


"Do you mind if I move to another carriage?"

Yes, it's a bit passive aggressive. Yes, I was being an irritating customer that this conductor could have probably done without at nine in the morning, but COME ON!
How ridiculous are the train fares in this country? For starters, no two conductors follow the same rules. If I wear some mascara, smile, and speak in a soft voice, I usually get charged the cheapest fare even if I don't show my young person's rail card! If I'm having an off day, full price. Fucking ridiculous!

And besides, how much of a cunt do you need to be to charge full price on one end of the train and off peak rates on the other end just because there are three minutes in it?


Friday, 28 August 2009

Where I say, "YOINK!"...

Nabbed from Ceri

1. He was a
 famous trumpet man from out Chicago way.

2. New boots is what I look forward to most this time of year.

3. "My best friend" is kind of a fluid concept. 

4. I would have hated Marilyn Monroe if I had met her in real life, to be honest with you.

5. Appearances can be, predictably, very deceiving. 

6. The last person I gave a hug to was my brother because he's poorly sick.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to catching up with someone I haven't seen in a while, tomorrow my plans include picking up some post and going to Clevedon for a pub crawl and Sunday, I want to enjoy my hangover and start cleaning out my wardrobe.

Where it's no longer the 'elephant' in the room...

Last night while having a drink with my Dad we started discussing the merits of Twitter. My Dad is a semi-professional gambler and has developed a computer program to help him determine the outcome of races.
Since discovering Twitter he's been singing its praises, particularly concerning its function as an instant communicator to the masses, something he reckons will be very useful when he starts being followed by pundits.

Anyway, all that aside, we moved onto the political side of Twitter such as helping organise protests.

Perhaps I was nervous because of the presence of his girlfriend, or that my Dad seemed slightly on edge, or maybe it was the pint and a half of Fosters I had just downed, but when I went to say,

 "... and it's like with the latest election in Iran..." 

I ended up saying, 

"... and it's like with the latest erection..."

Now, I thought someone would laugh, but no one did... so that 'erection' just hung awkwardly in the air. 

... You're allowed to smirk.

Monday, 17 August 2009

Where I attempt to be a grown up and fail at the first hurdle...

"Hello government! I'm just trying to sort out my taxes and don't seem to have a unique taxpayer's reference number, could you help?" 
"Miss Rabbit, would that be the unique taxpayer's reference number at the top of each letter we send you?"
*looks* "Oh why yes, so it is. Thank you!" 
"Ok, bye Miss Rabbit." 
"mmkay, bye."