A quick announcement

I know I said that I would be back with a blog about my Saturday night at the local meat market, but too be honest I’m too tired to post properly. I’ve been up since stupid o’clock this morning to get down to London for training for work. And I’m back there again tomorrow (yes, I know. Moan, moan, whinge, whinge!).

The sofa and TV are calling to me, so that’s where I’m heading. I’ll tell you about Saturday night soon.

I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving.

Blog host sites that is.

I’m going across to Wordpress. As much as I loved Blogger when I started, I want more things to play with and Wordpress seems to offer more of what I want.

At the moment I’m only going across to Wordpress’s free host site, but it means that I can get my blog to look how I want it to.

I’m having fun playing around and working on the layout of my new home. I’ve still got a lot to do, but will let you know before I go and then we can organise a blog warming party!

I think there is some kind of redirecting thing I can set for people that come here, but I’ll have to look into it some more.

I’ll still be blogging here until it’s time to move across completely (probably the weekend), but I just wanted to let you all know what I was up to!

And it's another one!

It really does seem to be Meme season at the moment!

This will only be my third one, but I was tagged for the last two in a very short space of time. These aren’t my favourite things, but I will join in.

This time I’ve been tagged for the ‘List of 7’ by Emmy from Inside Emmy’s Mind.

The idea is that each person lists 7 random facts about themselves and then tags 7 other unsuspecting people.

So, here goes:

I am obsessed with chewing gum. I can easily get through a box of 25 pieces in a day and get quite panicky if I run out.

I have a secret love of trashy magazines, full of nothing but celebrity gossip.

I can roll my tongue into a tube and raise one eyebrow, but would love to be able to wiggle my ears.

I have a habit of buying DVD’s and then never getting round to watching them. At the last count I have about 8 that I’ve had for months but have never watched.

I have a thing about being early for appointments and leave my house ridiculously early to make sure I get there in time.

I’ve only had a passport for about 2 years and the first place I went to was New York.

I talk in my sleep. Apparently, people have had some really interesting conversations with me when I’ve been asleep. I can never remember them and just hope that I’ve never given away any of my secrets!


That’s it!

Now, this is where I’m supposed to tag 7 other people.

No, stop trying to hide behind the screen, I can still see you!

I’m not going to tag anyone this time. Nearly every blogger I come across at the moment seems inundated with Meme’s, even if it’s not something they normally do. If you want to play then feel free to consider yourself tagged.

I’ll be back in the next couple of days with a blog about my Saturday night out and the perils of ending up at the local meat market!

Meme take two!

So, let’s give this meme thing another try. I’m not overly fond of them, but seeing as I’ve only ever done one before, I better give them a chance!

I’ve been tagged for the ‘3 things you won’t let go’ meme by Stealth over at No Middle Ground Here

I’m supposed to talk to you about three things that I won’t let go of and, I guess, tell you why they’re important to me. I think I’m also supposed to put photo’s up too, I’ve done my best, but I’ve only really been able to do it for one thing – sorry!

So, here goes!

Certain music from when I was a teenager.

I was a teenager in the 90’s. Like most people, certain songs take me straight back to that time. I lost a lot of my music collection when I moved a few years ago, but am slowly replacing those that I sorely miss.

Blur, Pulp and Oasis featured heavily. At the time, you were supposed to be either a Blur or Oasis fan; I was genuinely both, much to the dismay of certain friends of mine. Nirvana was also played all the time. Also, specific tracks are linked to certain years. Take 1996. I was 16 and hearing Born Slippy by Underworld takes me back to the best summer of my life and The Prodigy’s Firestarter to the surrealist night I’ve known (I’ll tell you about them both one day!).

Both of these and many of the others are on my Ipod or in my CD collection. Now I’ve got them back, they’re not going anywhere!

This painting.

Please excuse the quality of the photo. I had to take it with my phone as I still haven’t figured out how to use my digital camera, despite having it for a couple of years!

My aunt painted this for me when I was born. As you probably can’t read what she has written, it says

“Wishes that are sincerely meant usually come true, may you have happy days, good health, good friends, all your life through”

It used to hang in my bedroom throughout my childhood and has moved with me wherever I’ve lived. It currently hangs in my bathroom, brightening up a very small space!

My aunt was in and out of my life when I was a kid, but I’ve always kept it. Now, my aunt is one of the main people in my life and she likes the fact that I’ve always kept the painting.

My memory box

At least I think that’s what they’re called, that’s what we used to call them when I was younger. I’d take a photo, but it’s really nothing to look at, just a plain box.

I guess it’s full of things that I don’t want to let go. It’s got stuff like old letters from friends, cards that mean something, cinema stubs and so on in there. Each thing means something, or reminds me of something I did or someone I know (or knew!).

Again, this is something that has moved around with me. I’m always slightly surprised that I’ve got one of these, I’m not overly sentimental and don’t tend to keep hold of things, nor do I feel the need to take millions of photo’s. I guess I figure that they’re just ‘things’, or props or something, but every now and again, I get an urge to put something in my box to have a look at again further down the line. God, I’m a soppy cow sometimes!



So there you go, there’s my three things. Now I’m supposed to tag some other people. I choose Fish, Heather and Emmy.

Sorry guys! If you don’t want to play, then no problem. Also, if anyone else sees this and wants to have a go, then feel free to grab it and join in.

Oh, and I was also tagged for the desktop meme by Rosie over at Nobody asked me, but unfortunately my laptop won’t play ball. Sorry Rosie!

About Bl**dy Time Too!!

Hello, Good evening and Welcome.

Firstly, may I take this opportunity to apologise for my tardiness. I must confess that I have received one or two nudging emails asking me when I was going to post a bloggy thing as my audience was waiting. I suppose I could blame it on stage fright, but actually I reckon I must be one of the busiest students in England. In fact, quite possibly, the world.

The first time I went to university I opted for a 'student friendly' course - water-based leisure management. This translates as learning to windsurf and sail for two years on a part time basis and spend the rest of the time in the Student bar. Cracking. Then a year or so ago I had a bright idea and decided to relive my uni days for a second time. Bird, sorry - other half, is already a qualified nutty nurse and seeing as I wrote most of her essays I thought I'd have a crack at it as well. How hard can it possibly be? Regurgitate all the essays and fly through the practice placements and Robert's your father's brother - qualified. Then the reality of being a mature student on a course with a new curriculum. New essays, different modules, full time course, dismal bursary, mortgage to pay, loads of bills so working almost equivalent of a full time job on top of a full time course.

Now, I'm not one to whinge - honest, but this is hard work. I am now realising that there really aren't enough hours in the day. Yes - I know, women have known this for ages.

Anyway, now that I have made my excuses, I have an esay to write. However, I have noticed that a number of inaccuracies have been written about me which I believe amount to defamation of character. I shall aim to clarify and put the record straight on my next visit to this cyberbloggywebbynetty thing.

Sorry for all the hype. Bet you're all gutted now!!

Naked in the living room

I am the only one in my group of friends who lives alone. Everyone else lives with their partner and/or kids. And I have to say that I think I’ve got the better deal!

On a pretty much daily basis I am informed by my friends about the latest issue their partner or kid (in some cases they seem to be the same person!) has created. The top complaints seem to be mess, not sharing chores, preferring work or the pub to being at home and playing video games all day (this one is committed by a 40 year old bloke, not a kid!).

I’m also told on a regular basis that I am lucky that I can do what I want, when I want, without having to check in with anyone else.

And I am.

However, I also have to endure questions about when I’m going to settle down, have I found Mr Right, do I believe in soul mates and don’t I ever get lonely.

So, for the record, the answers are:

* I have no idea, it will happen when it happens.

* No. There is someone I like but it’s just not possible at the moment.

* No.

* Yes of course, but so does everybody!

For me, the benefits of being single and living alone far outweigh the disadvantages. I have no one else to answer to, can eat what I like, when I like, there’s no queue for the bathroom and no arguments about whether the toilet seat should be up or down. There are no remote control issues, moans about me being on the laptop for hours, or the fact that that’s the third time in a week I haven’t got in until 3am! I can walk around naked anytime I want (and frequently do!), I can read or watch TV in bed in the middle of the night and use all the hot water!

And no one can complain about it!

Yes, of course there are disadvantages. I can only blame mess on myself and have discovered there are no little fairies that come and clear up in the night, there’s no one else to do the washing or food shopping and I have to carry all the heavy stuff myself. But I’ve lived with friends, family and (more or less) with a partner before and also endure the daily complaints from friends; I know that these issues are there whether you live alone or not!

So, for the time being, I’m going to stand by my view that I have the better the deal. I will listen to my friend’s complaints, smile sweetly and go home to my sanctuary!

Just to reassure myself it could be worse!

Ok, so I don’t blog for a week and then make two posts in one day, there’s nothing like inconsistency!

I’m still vaguely obsessed with Christmas and organising the work Christmas party and remembered an email I had received from Student Nutty Nurse some time last year.

I obviously haven’t saved it, but finally tracked it down on Boreme.com. You’ve got to love the internet!

Anyway, urban myth or not, I’m so glad that I don’t have to organise a Christmas party on a large scale, else I think I’d have the same reaction as this woman!

Enjoy.

It's still that time of year!

Obviously with trying to organise the work Christmas party, Christmas has been on my mind

However, I don’t seem to be the only one.

The shops have been trying to convince us it’s Christmas since about August and now nearly every shop has its Christmas goodies out and a nice shiny catalogue by the door.

I always get slightly confused by the shop’s decisions on Christmas gifts. I don’t really understand why they seem to think that every woman wants nothing more than a box set of gaudily packaged toiletries that they wouldn’t use at any other time of the year, or every bloke wants a body spray and shower gel set or a leather wallet and keyring! I wouldn’t buy these for friends on their birthdays, so why would I buy them at Christmas.

My usual routine for Christmas shopping is to wait for the pay day before Christmas and then go round the shops with a prepared list and very strict time limit. If I do it any other way, it becomes unmanageable and rarely ends well.

I may have to try a different tact this year, as the list of people I need to buy for appears to have grown at a very unhealthy rate since last Christmas and I’m not sure I can face the shops. I’m leaning much more towards the joys of internet shopping. Me, my credit card and a very large drink certainly seems much more enticing than me, cash and scary strangers with a very disturbing determination to get the last Terry’s Chocolate Orange on the shelf!

Some people seem to be much more organised.

Scarily so.

Best Friend is one of these. I know for a fact that a lot of her shopping has been completed and there is a plan in place for the rest! Best Friend adores Christmas and all the preparation for it. She buys the most fabulous presents (even her work Secret Santa ones hit the spot each time!) and revels in the whole thing. She works to a time scale and knows when she will write and send her cards (I randomly send them when I can be bothered and then inevitably have to send out more when I receive one from people I have forgotten!). She also knows when she needs to order things from the butcher and already knows what she’s going to cook on Christmas Day. I’m more than happy about this as I will be spending the day with her and her family and she also tells me what to buy for our mutual friends – thank you, that saves me another head ache!

Don’t get me wrong, I do like Christmas, though I prefer the actual lead up to it rather than the day itself.

I can get quite sentimental and, if I’m in a good mood, even smile when I hear the brass bands playing carols. I like the decorations, the parties and how people seem willing to talk to people they usually wouldn’t. However, I do long for the ease of Christmas when I was a kid, when all you had to do was send cards to your classmates, buy something for your parents and Santa did the rest!!

It's that time of year again!

As it is October, it is obviously time to start thinking about Christmas.

At least that’s what the shops are trying to make us do.

I have an issue with the shops and the way they try to control the seasons, but that’s for another blog.

The reason why I know it is October and October equals Christmas, is that preparations have begun for the Work Christmas Party!

Unfortunately, this is my task every year and I have to begin now to try and accommodate the whole list of do’s/don’ts/needs/wants/random and strange requests into one night. And it takes a hell of a lot of research. Luckily this year I do have some help.

You really wouldn’t have thought it would be that complicated to arrange one night out (let me repeat that; ONE night out) for 10 people.

But it is.

So far, the only consensus is that it should be a meal.

However, in that, I have to try and find somewhere that can accommodate the following requests (or instructions, depending on your point of view!):

* Not a chain.
* Not too noisy or busy, but not deathly quiet either.
* Doesn’t serve a traditional Christmas Dinner, but does serve traditional English food (Bloody fussy eaters!).
* Not too expensive, but not cheap either (Damn, I was aiming for MacDonald’s, but wait, then what would the vegetarians do?!).
* Plays music but not “Stupid Christmas Carols”, “Modern stuff” or “Lift Music”.
* Has a decent range of cocktails (That’s my request – I’m definitely going to need the aid of alcohol by the time the night actually arrives!).
* Only serves food on blue plates, preferably square with a gold trim, and drinks in glasses hand etched by fairies wearing dresses made from flowers (Ok, I made that bit up, but it would probably be easier to try and find that, than satisfy everyone else!).

I am seriously considering setting everyone up with the internet and a webcam. That way, we can all sit at home, listen to what music we want and eat what we like, still say we’ve had a party and there won’t be the risk of me being convicted for GBH!

Any ideas anyone?

The musical air cooler

I think I’ve told you before that the basis of mine and Student Nutty Nurse’s friendship is arguing and playing practical jokes on each other.

Even though we have not worked together for several months now, he is still managing to play tricks on me at work.

The office where I work is in a converted garage. As you can imagine, it’s cramped and, in summer, it’s hot. We have an air cooler to help us not completely melt in summer, but obviously it’s not necessary in winter and it lives under one of the corner desks.

A couple of days ago, I was in the office with a client and a colleague, when all of a sudden we heard ‘Happy Birthday’ playing, swiftly followed by Highland music! After some investigation, we could only narrow it down to the air cooler.

By this stage, I was getting quite frustrated and decided that there was only one course of action. Watched by a very bemused client and an equally bemused colleague, I fetched a screwdriver and dismantled it. It would not shut up.

Sitting on the floor, surrounded by bits of the air cooler, I began to think I’d made a bit of a mistake. Especially when my colleague lent over, took the batteries out and silence reigned.

Ah.

I tried to figure out what had happened. Why had it been playing music? It had never happened before; I didn’t even know that it could.

There only seemed to be one possible solution.

I phoned Student Nutty Nurse.

“You know the air cooler in the office?”

“Yes!”

“Does it play music?”

“Yes!”

“Did you set some kind of timer on it to make it play?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“I wanted to surprise you for your Birthday”

“My Birthday’s not until March. You know that. When did you set it?”

“About ten months ago. I wondered why no-one had phoned me about it!”

So even though we no longer work together, he is still managing to get me into trouble. I managed to repair the air cooler, but I’m not sure it will ever work in the same way again.

However, I have found the instruction book and now I know how to set the timer. I can feel some Christmas music coming on!

Leave the chocolate alone!

I see that the manufacturers have been at it again. They’ve been messing about with the chocolate.

I bought some Galaxy chocolate today, feeling in the need of a reward (which was a bit unnecessary as just by being awake I feel that I deserve some chocolate!). I noticed that on the wrapper was the announcement that they had improved the recipe and it had a new shape.

Oh, shit. I hate it when they do this.

Luckily, it’s ok this time. It tastes the same and they haven’t done too much. They’ve just changed the shape to a slightly wavy one. It’s quite pretty really.

But it got me thinking about how often the manufacturers see fit to go and mess about with the things we know and love, even if it’s just the name. There never seems to be a good reason to do this, I’m sure it’s just to confuse us and make us think that they’ve released a new product.

I mean, take Snickers. They always used to be called Marathon. Now, that name made sense. What sort of name is Snickers?! Marathon always implied that the chocolately, peanutty goodness would help you keep going. But Snickers? What does that mean?

And Starburst. They were always Opal Fruits (well, they still are in my head – just because they change the name, doesn’t mean that I have to agree with it!). Everything else is the same, they just changed the name. Is there a point to it that I’m missing?

The other thing that annoys me is when they just take products out of action. Does anyone remember the Peanut Butter Lions? They were great and saw me through many hangovers in college. Now they’ve disappeared and I can’t find them anywhere!

I don’t mind them adding new things though! Just stop messing about with the ones I like.

A lost art?

I was reading the back of my conditioner bottle in the shower this morning (it’s amazing what you do to amuse yourself whilst you’re waiting for a deep conditioning treatment to work!) and noticed what was written under the ‘Contact us’ bit.

The bottle encouraged people to “Give us a ring, send us an email, or why not go mad and pick up a pen – and combat the global disappearance of handwriting”.

It got me thinking, I rarely write letters anymore and I’m not sure I know anyone else who writes them either. Sure, I write quite a few at work, but they don’t really count, plus, they’re typed. In fact, I only write two personal letters a year, both at Christmas, to two family friends. But when I was younger, letters and notes were a common thing.

When I was kid, every Birthday and Christmas I would have to write ‘Thank you’ letters to anyone who had given me a present. As much as I knew I had to do them, I hated it. I mean, when you’re a kid, what else do you say when you’ve got as far as “Dear Great Aunt Mable. Thank you for my book token. I have put it towards a book.”? I would sit there for ages, trying to turn 20 words into a letter; I would often end up drawing a little picture, just to fill up space.

When I was a teenager, it was all about passing notes in school (when I was there, I played truant a lot!). The notes were far more important than whatever class we were in, but mainly consisted of “Jamie is soooo fit”, “Are you coming for a fag at break?” and “Lucy snogged Darren on Friday!”. Exciting stuff!

It just doesn’t cross my mind to write a letter. Now, if I want to contact someone and don’t want to phone, then I will send them an email. It’s quicker than writing, but I guess it’s kind of sad that no one writes letters anymore.

Please excuse me for a moment!

I'm a bored blogger!

I'm playing around with my blog (I'm going all girly!) as I appear to have blog block. However, I seem to have lost all the little bits that are usually in my side bar! Please bear with me whilst I carry on playing and try to get everything back to where it should be.

Normal service will resume shortly, I just didn't want you thinking you'd come to the wrong place!

Hunting in packs

I’ve heard several blokes say that one of the scariest things to see on a night out is a group made up purely by women. I have to say that a group of blokes is just as off putting.

When I was in London for the day with Mr Flirt, we ended up sitting outside a pub in Camden. It was a pleasant evening, only marred when a group of lads took up residence at the next table.

They were a typical group of lads, out on the piss and on the pull. They were quite loud, having already had plenty to drink and clearly felt, that as they were obviously undisputed Sex Gods, they were in a position to comment on every poor female that happened to walk past.

We sat and listened to their conversation for a while, not that we had much choice. After enduring a few minutes of tales about “shagging some bird” and some stuff about football that I didn’t understand at all, I turned to Mr Flirt and commented that this group of fine male specimens was an example as to why some women prefer to be single.

He just smiled.

A few minutes later, a group of girls (I can really only describe them as girls) came spilling out of the pub. By this stage, the only seats left outside were on mine and Mr Flirt’s table. They asked if they could share with us and we agreed.

We were then subjected to a mixture of screams and squeals over one of the girls’ new top, the sad news that the bloke one of them had met last week hadn’t called and the problems someone’s sister was having with her new partner. After a while, Mr Flirt turned round and informed me that this was an example as to why some men prefer to stay single.

Touche!

Is there a sign on my forehead?

Is there something about me?

Do I have some kind of sign on my forehead that I can’t see?

Why do I always attract the loony?

I can be anywhere and the random mad person will find me. It doesn’t matter where; on the bus, in the supermarket, in the doctor’s waiting room, it makes no difference; they will track me down and start talking.

Even when I’m walking to work I’m not safe. In the mornings there is a lady who walks through the city centre at the same time I do. On a regular basis she comes up, tells me a joke (it’s always something about dicks, socks and the cold – I’m sorry I can’t be clearer, but it just doesn’t make sense!) and then wanders off, apparently happy with our interaction.

When I am training for work I will attract the one person on the course desperate to talk about their ‘issues’ and they will spend the entire day trailing around after me and then want to walk back to the train station too. They have also been known to ask me if I want to go for a drink afterwards as I have “been so helpful and understanding”.

No, I don’t.

If we did that, then there is a distinct possibility that my responses will change from the professional ones ingrained into me, to the ones that are actually in my head. I’m really not convinced you want to be told that either; 1) you’re clearly insane or 2) need to stop acting like a moaning idiot and get off your arse and do something about it!

I know I work in mental health and should understand, but it’s no different from a doctor getting asked to diagnose people at parties or a taxi driver being a chauffeur for his kids. You just don’t want to do it. A lot of my friends also work in mental health and say the same thing. It appears that some people do have a sign saying ‘If you are mad/desperate/love to talk about yourself then feel free to come and talk non-stop to me for as long as you want’ stuck on their forehead.

The problem is, that unless I can actually avoid being engaged in conversation from the start, I don’t have it in me to stop them. I nod, smile and make appropriate noises when I’m really inventing elaborate escape plans or writing my shopping list in my head.

I can successfully manage to avoid the charity and survey clipboard people in the street, so maybe I need to employ the same tactics with the random mad people. In the meantime, maybe I should pay attention to what they say and see if there’s any blog fodder in there!