Dancers so tiny

One of my all time favourite songs is Elton John' Tiny Dancers, yes it's a cliche song, many love it, many don't understand it and many just don't like Elton but i find it such an uplifting song, it's beat and general tune is full of hope and life, it makes me want to stand up, dance and shout from the roof tops, it makes me want to experience everything life has to offer in one huge gulp - and why? how come? what is it about that songs that makes me full of happiness? Even when I'm crying my most painful tears I sing the lyrics out loud and bright with a smile on my face.

It starts, climaxes and falls all in about 3.5 minutes, it could end there but for some reason Elton starts up again and continues for another 3 minutes, it's almost like life i suppose, just when you think you're out and done, something happens and you have faith again, not nessecarily when you need that reassuring pick me up but it always comes along, normally when you've just started to pull yourself out of your lull, as you've realised that you're the only one in control.

It also is from that most fabulous film "Almost Famous", which yes i have just finished watching, that film makes me smile and for no other reason than when it first came out, my oldest brother Julian was at uni in York and he phoned me after he finished watching to say that it was a great film and how Kate Hudson's character reminded him a lot of me - not sure if he was calling me a crazy groupie or a free spirit but i still always remember that comment, it was one of the first compliments he'd ever said to me and one of the first times I remember my brother having acknowledged me as an individual, rather than his annoying little sister.
The film also reminds me of the times I toured with the 22-20s, god I miss those guys - they were so talented, still are in fact and such incredible blokes - the friendliest, generous, caring guys, who loved having trusted individuals at hand to make them feel that some sanity exsisted during a crazy period of abnormalness. I find it hard listening to their music now a days, I find it's like listening to a dead person talk, it's an odd peculiar feeling that makes me warm with reminising, happy with fond memories and cold with the memory that it can never be again...so bizzarre.

I've had such a bizarre period in my life recently, I found happiness from within, for the first time in a while - since I clutched to straws. I feel whole again and I feel whole on my own, instead of needing someone elses reassurance.
I've discovered I've some disquiet inside me, some painful memories i wish weren't so, some amazing friends who i haven't acknowledged properly and the ability to make myself happy or sad - it's up to me and me alone.

I'd been lost for a while, since Jan or maybe April, I'd been trudging on, getting through it day by day, i had thought I was involved in life but I wasn't, I was in fact making life happen, because i needed distracting. I feel that when i need to, I'll be able to fall in love again and be able to trust that person, to not use and abuse because it's there or because they are hurting...but because they want to feel loved and be loved and because they couldn't imagine a life without me in it.
I'll find this eventually, one of my rocks from the last year summed it up best, I've just been unfortuante in life to have choosen those who are broken, needing something to lean against and hold them together, until they feel strong enough to go and fix themselves. This I believe and even though some of those haven't been the greatest and may have made me feel worthless, they've also taught me a lot of things about life and myself - isn't that the most important lesson of all?

I want to also forgive those who have hurt me, for their selfish acts and stupid actions through careless thought, I shall do so in the long run but right now, I need to make my most loved feel loved.

I am finally back to wanting to say what I've always wanted to say to people, without fear of ridicule or upset. I'm free to remind these people how special they are and to not put prices on their heads because they feel a need to justify to others.
I want to make my friends feel as lucky as i do for having them in my life. I'm a huge believer in saying things, while you can, instead of a coffin, because you didn't have the guts to say it when you might have gotten a reaction. I thank my parents all the time for having done everything they did and providing me with the childhood I had, I'm extremely lucky and I'm aware and very grateful for that, more than many would probably know.

Sorry for this drivel that started out so promising but when you are feeling happy, content and reflective, you can't help but want to share it with the world.

More cynical bullshit tomorrow. Promise. x

Words worth indeed

I'm addicted, yep I mean truly addicted but not in the proper way, like my mate Luke would be, I mean in a rubbish way. What am I addicted too...well it's a very simple addiction - I'm addicted to words.
BUT, not in the same way others are, strange long words that mean the same as a simple word but show you've a brain and a memory, no I'm addicted to words as in Facebook scrabulous and Bella Crosswords.

Now I know what you're thinking but you can stop right there!

As a child, one of our games on holiday was to try and make words out of the number plates of the other cars, it's a simple game and keeps kids entertained for hours, especially when you're at the age of not knowing how to spell - I won many a time, as my brother had to let me win, I didn't know any better (age card always win). But I still have a habit of doing so to this day, while driving or seeing the odd sign, etc.

Scrabulous is a lot of fun. Friends you assumed would be good at it are rubbish, people who you thought would kick your arse don't, people who are just overly intelligent get non-stop 7 letters but fail at the 2, 3, 4's. etc - it's truly fabulous!!!
I'd say I'm a level pegger, some people I can beat, others anialte me and I have fun the whole time through, as I learn new words, be them all 3-5 letters but never the less, I'm using my brain power.
It's got to the point where I'm apply the number plate game to scrabble, what letters have I got, what can i spell?!
It's as simple my numberplate, is like a bad dream of scrabble tiles - VSISWZV - spell what?

As for Bella crosswords, you may have scoffed (Axl I know you will have but you'll eat your words), they are some of the most random and hard crosswords I've ever done. I took two in to work the other day, Chips and I did one each, they were pretty regular (not fashion, gossip, film, etc based, proper crosswords) BUT... recently, they've stepped up a key. It appears that in monthly cycles, the crosswords get harder and harder and then return to regular everyday ones. They are impossible!

I tried one last night, that was the cryptic bitch crossword, I've posted it below and if anyone can complete it, I commend them. I've challenge many a person to them and no one has done it yet, I even asked the fountain of knowledge on crosswords (The Mother) and to no prevail!
If you do complete it, without help of books and dictionaries, etc - send it to: Aren't you a clever dick!

Hence my desire to know more and more words and want to conquer these bastard people with there scrabble tiles and crosswords in the crappy mags. Damn them!

Crossword from hell

Scabby Elbow!

I have a scab on my elbow, it's all thanks to The Boy deciding he was bigger and stronger than me in The Cellar the other night, so we scrapped and my elbow got scraped down the brick wall...at the time I was pretty wankered, so didn't feel it but the next day, it was all sore and gross.
Every time I touched it or put it on something it hurt...it finally scabbed over, in an impressive form, for a surface scrap, not a proper cut and a few days later, it's at that point where my scab has started to make my skin itch - I really want to pick it but I know that will start off some bleeding or pussing. Normally I'd pick it without thought but it's in an awkward place and was really irritating when I first did it, although it is starting to peel up implying that it's ready for a picking...

So basically the question is: To pick or not to pick?

You're pathetic!!!

There are certain people in this world who should grow the fuck up - they are pathetic, childish and selfish and should take a really long look at themselves, before they start treating people, who tried to be their friends, to a good old stabbing in the front!!!

Although if they grew up, they'd have to take a look at their actions and selves in the mirror and take responsibilty for everything they've ever done, how they've treated people, etc and for some narrow shouldered people, that's far to much weight to bare, oh well off to the shed with a length of rope. Put us all out of our misery, you waste of space and air!!!

How dare you think you can upset my friends? Try to upset me, that's fine but never shit on my friends, as they are kind caring and don't deserve your actions - no one fucking does!
My favourite fact is that the one person, who you claim to love is who you're shitting on most, (i hate to say this but..) he deserves it, we did what we did for him and him alone but he couldn't see the wood through the trees and foolishly followed his heart...turning his back on a loyal best friend of many years, who'd have done anything for him. The only reason I think he deserves it, is how he's treated that said friend since all your shit hit the fan...if he'd ever been a friend to him, he'd never have said or acted how he has. Being blinded by love can only be responsible for a certain amount and he excelled that, a long time a go. Poor boy will have the shock of his life, when he finally sees you for who you are!!!

If you do happen to ever want to grow up or learn from this, note two things - there is no such thing as a free hot dinner and never shit on your own doorstep!

And always remember, never get to sure or cocky, as fate has a funny way of making sure everyone gets what they deserve and your comuppence is just around the corner.

Why won't everyone just fuck off!!!

So far today I've been rude and blunt to someone on the phone, been asked 50,000 times why I'm not going to Reading Festival, sworn a lot at many a traffic light turning red (fucking bastards), got pissed off at someone as they wanted to know if their artist was a)still at our studio and b)awake. And made a promise to myself that if I ever got the chance, I'd run over one of my best friends ex's, because he's a fucking CUNT!!!
So yes, I admit it, I am in a foul mood, really foul mood and I don't want to snap out of it, not at all, i am revelling in it and loving it, a lot!
There are many a reason to why I'm in such a horrid mood, mainly because I am tired, so tired and fed up - work and life seems never ending but this is nothing to complain about, I'm being paid and enjoy my jobs, so that's fine.
I moved house last week, am still knackered. I don't live in cardboard city anymore, which is nice but I still haven't had any time to chill and do nothing, I've had half an hour or so here or there but nothing more.
I've also had the mild stress of cleaning the old house, what fun, etc, etc, etc - the list is endless, right now it is but it'll stop very soon, which i can't wait...it's all cool.

Now to explain my being rude to someone on the phone, the guy fucking deserved it...it's so socially inept that he doesn't have a very nice phone manner and he's never thought about changing it, so in my eyes i'm doing a service to others who have to talk to him. He never says "goodbye", i mean this is basic polite conversation - what the fuck is up with that. And he also starts the conversation with "Hi it's George", as if that's going to make me fall to the floor or rush his call through sooner or do some other amazing shit, just because it's George and secondly, why the fuck doesn't he start the conversation with what the fuck he wants, rather than who it is - he's always so awkward on the phone, i hate answering the phone to him, oh so much!

The traffic lights explain themselves, bunch of conspiring motherfuckers!!!

As for Reading, if anyone else askes me why I'm not going, I'm going to simply answer "Fuck off, that's why!".

How the fuck do i know if her artist, yes HER artist is still here - i arrive at 10am, most artists don't wake until lunchtime and secondly, can i see through fucking brick? No i don't think i fucking can - so fucking phone your artist and find the fuck out!

And as for my best mate's ex, he best fucking watch out the next time he's walking along the Cowley Road, I'll happily get points to knock him flying - god being run over really is too good for him, torture is even too good for him, i hate him so much...more than anyone else...which I'll get back to later.

Right now, the one thing that pisses me off more than anything is presumptious people, i find them more rude than ignorant people - fucking cunts!!!
A few of my beliefs on often brain patterns for presumptious people:
You've done it before, so you will again and because you've done it before, you'll feel awful at the idea of saying no, so you'll do it - taking advantage, fucking cunts!!!
I'm foreign, I know I shouldn't presume but I will, as we can blame it on cultural differences and then you'll also do it, because you're too polite to say no - Cunts, fuck off!!!
You've always done it before, so I'm not going to ask if you need help or take any initivite for your sake, you obviously enjoy doing it.
I'm a cunt. I can't be bothered to take responsibilty for my actions, as I'm a cunt. I have no real friends, as I've spent my entire life lying to myself and my friends, so stand there with a pan and brush, while I shit on my own doorstep and then you can clean it up - spineless, lonely CUNT!
And my all time favourite: I'm a fucking cunt and know you're nice, so I'll deal with it, you generous foolish prick.

These are some of the cunty actions I've had of late, of absolute and utter cunty pricks who have decided to take advantage of me, because, god knows why, because I'm nice, because as long as you've never fucked me or my friends over, I'll treat you how I'd like to be treated, fuck knows but I hate them all and wish a huge selective bomb would wipe them the fuck out!
Above are a few, there are others but I can't be arsed, I'm in a bad mood but I've discovered the weirdest thing lately and I don't know where to file it, other than Limbo, which I hate as I call it a cop out. But you'll have to be a friend of mine my myspace to read that, as it's far to personal for here.

Rice

Now Surely, Uncle Ben would be rolling over in his grave, if he knew the makers of his rice were making it convieniently for the microwave?
Now I suck at making Rice, it's an art form of which I can't do but I still think microwave rice is really, really wrong!!!

Yonks

It's been fucking ages since I wrote a blog last and I won't allow Axl to complain to me, so here I am typing away, just to not be whinged at, like I do he, when he hasn't emptied his brain.

So today, i didn't get an acknowledgement or thank you from two arsehole drivers, for letting them come through my right of way - fucking arseholes, how hard is it to just hold your hand up for 5 seconds - Pricks!!! These sorts of mornings are what make me believe that bird flu, is a good idea. Wipe out a large collection of the population and hope that most of those written out, are the inbreds and incapable.

The ignorance of two people and the fact that no matter which direction I drove this morning, there were 500 other arseholes all with the same bright idea, as me! I felt like I was Truman from The Truman Show, when he tries to escape and all the cars keep on pulling in front of him...although, as far as I'm aware, I'm not on a TV show, anyhow I hope I'm not, as there are things I do, that I'd hate for anyone to witness, it's why I do them in private (these things I talk about, are not sordid little things, thank you Axl). They are things like picking dry skin, my nose, plucking hairs, etc...things which are just unpleasant to see.

I'll tell you one thing, Vlad the Impailer had the right idea too. He invited all of the lame, lazy and disabled to his house for dinner one night, while they dined, he locked the doors and set fire to the place, I know it's a crazy quick solution which may not be the best way to get people off their arses and earning a wage but it is an option of sorts.

On a less mental, crazy point, than I am right now - all of which is due to my self righteousness and these two arsehole drivers. Which came first Morals or law/rules? This is one of my favourite debates to have and this coming from the girl who doesn't really agree with debating as there isn't enough emotion involved.

I want a fucking present!

So, a while ago I joined Facebook. I didn't want to but I was trying to deal with my lack of myspace and everyone and their mate kept on adding me, so I finally gave in.

Since being on there, I've gone through the hatred and dislike, I've now accepted it. I hate the fact that there is not a lot of diversity and it's all so straight looking but I also quite like it, it's a little like school uniform (although you're actually unable to identify the scabby kids, other than through their general inability to spell) and it's pretty simple to use.
I hate the fact that all of my friends can see my every move and comment - no privacy, but I like the fact that you get told when people have added new photos, etc.

I also love two aspects of it, how you know people (the most filled out, waste of time ever - I love being nosy about people's contacts. I've claimed to have hooked up with mostly everyone, which I haven't except one and that is on going currently) and also the present giving aspect, as it's for charity and makes a lovely token.

Which brings me to my point of selfishness. I want someone to give me a fucking present, it's not that much to ask. The first one is free and it doesn't take that much to dedicate a small piece of nothingness to a friend. Plus you can then buy in bulk for cheap.
I gave my first one to Bizz, as she was leaving work and I love her. I also gave Howardo a giraffe (I wish it was dressed up in clothes but never mind) as she'd been a good friend, an orchid to Vikki - as she was poorly, a pint of beer to Jon - he's great, why else?! and a four leaf clover to Emily - as she was leaving us, the dirty rotten ho-bag!

Later today, I shall shower my two bestestest friends with one each, as I love them but still no one dedicates one to me - nothing. I want to give more away, with sentimental feelings and thoughts but when I see that the people have already got one, it makes me begrudge giving them one, which is stupid but hay ho, that's the way it goes. My thought is that I adore giving presents to people and love making people smile and feel loved, so a little token that gives money to charity is always a worthy cause but I'm starting to grit my teeth and get rather annoyed by the lack of love I've received from my friends.
I know you're not supposed to give to receive but after giving so much, I want to see some returned in more ways than one!!! I know all of my friends love me, it's hard not too but some times actions/presents speak louder than words/thoughts.

And now beacuse I've complained, when I do get one, I'm going to constantly think that I only got it because I complained - fucking hell!!! This is one selfish bird signing off.



Although on another note, I was reminded last night, that I had a dream about Jaffa Cakes, yeah!!! Flucky told me that I was also muttering about dragons but I don't remember any of the dream (I do remember waking up and telling him that I'd dreamt about the cakes though), so I'm choosing to ignore that point and focus on the fact that Jaffa Cakes made it to my subconcious - fuck yeah!!!

My life Since P.A. entered.

P.A. undoubtably is Paul Askew, aka Axl.

I remember the first time I ever met Mr Axl. I was attending a roast dinner at Junction Road 90210 and there he was, along with a mixture of other people, Nell, Paul, Lex, Russ, V and Andy (plus the dog, that they'd been looking after), Mat and Hannah, Lee (Wainwright Jnr), Tim and others - can't really remember whoelse and I'm sorry if by forgetting someone I offend them, not intending to but it's hard to remember anyone, when Axl is around.
Ahh yes, Axl, you know it, Mr suck all of the attention in, move aside TV/music/radio/general entertainment, Axl is here now.
So anyway, yes that was my first proper encounter, he was rather subdued that night, if I remember correctly but it was all good.
We discovered early on in our friendship that we had equal need for: attention, witty one liners, getting a little too drunk, bitching and generally feeling mightier and better than everyone else, well because we are, of course! This brought on my excitement when ever he appeared to be around and especially when he got hooked up with the internet = myspace and blogs.

One of my favourite one liners of his was after he spilt a whole glass of wine over Lex's female friend, he exclaimed that he'd saved Lex a job, as she was already wet!!! Genius, everyone else kept their calm and didn't laugh out that loud and I was literally rolling around the floor, crying tears of salty pleasure (and no not I the boys one eyed snake sense).

He's done some nutty shit (not as in poo, as in head butting light bulbs, beer showers and standing way to close to Hootie, during drunken moments) and he's done some rather intelligent things (like dating Alex, being my friend and writing a blog).

And on Saturday night, he pushed the entertainment boundaries for me, to an all time high (this is excluding the lighbulb head butting) and is mainly towards all of the fucking comments he made and the insistency of stealing my shoes and getting an extremely eager guy to wear them, as well as giving himself a beer shower and applying a hanger to his clothing attire - he had me hooked on his every loudly spoken word. I think it's safe to say that we are two kindred spirits.

So Axl, it's not quite what you wanted (it's probably better, as it's all about you), but I promise I shall rant soon, wait for my life to stop making me happy and I'll rant away but for now, I hope my ode to you is enough.

The New Age of Peppers

While innocently shopping around Sainsbury's the other night, I stopped by some of my favourite vegetables, the peppers - they are so marvellous, well all except the green ones, poor bastards, they have got the rough end of the stick but they don't taste as yummy as the others colours.
The red ones are crisp, the orange ones juicy and the yellow ones fresh and juicy - yummy! You can prep them in so many different ways and they go with most things.
So, while pondering on which colour would look best in my Chilli Con Carne, I noticed two boxes at the back of the regular choices...One full of purple peppers and the other full of brown peppers - What the ?!
I was flabbergasted, who? What? Why? Why would you do that to a pepper?
The purple one was a really nice colour but I can't imagine that the flavours are particularly nice...I was to scared to buy them but I photographed them instead.
I bet anything that they'll produce Organic Purple and Brown Peppers next, it'll be slightly ironic if they do.

Hopefully, Gabrielle was wrong and not all dreams do come true!!!

Recently, say the last month, I've been having the most random dreams.

Some were pretty tame - I was in the local pub of Drayton (the village I grew up in) with Jo and Jd is working behind the bar, the pub looks nothing like it does and was in the middle of no where but we all know it's supposed to be The Red Lion. I pop to the bar and realise that there was a wedding reception in the garden, which a beautiful river runs past, which is the only way of getting back to Drayton from here, you have to river wad (don't ask?!). After a chatting with JD and buying drinks, I return to Jo to find her talking with an ex of mine and one of his housemates (what was weird about this, was that they hadn't met at the time and they were getting on really well). My dad comes to give me a lift home and half way home, I say that my ex had offered to walk me home (through the river, which is quite dangerous but we've all done it so many times, we know where the dangerous parts are, etc. Plus this ex has offered to do anything with me in public for fucking ages, so it was quite a gesture.) and my dad turns the car around (this would never ever happen) and drops me off at the pub to walk home with the ex. This was the start of my random dreams...

In another one, I married a 40-50 year old millionaire with a ginger comb over, just for the divorce and his money. We were at the reception, which was held in a marquee that was based in the valley and stretched up 3 hills. What concerned me was that no one was asking me why I'd married him or was trying to talk me out of it, plus my dad spend the entire time complaining about the marquee being all wrong. The weirdest part was realising at the end of my dream that I might love this man but knowing deep down that I was in love with someone else.

The jumpiest of them all came a few nights ago, I was being wooed by my next door neighbour (and no not the attractive rock climber, damn shame.) the one with 3 wives and 13 kids. I was at the beach with a group of friends and we all had to climb these massive hills and twirling pathways to get to the beach and my neighbour turned up asking me for a date and then wooing me, the whole time I was thinking, I'm never going to be your 4th wife, so don't bother and then all of a sudden feeling like i was in a trance and thinking, actually your rather swoonsome...and as I thought maybe, he turned in to a Vampire and disappeared off in to the woods, at which I ran away to rejoin my friends - Lucky escape if you ask me.

The funniest one, I had this on Saturday night was that I was Nicholas Lyndhurst (yeah, Rodney!!!) and Sir David Jason (from such classics as Dangermouse, Wind in the Willows and The BFG) was making a documentary about how Only Fools and Horses became so big...all very odd. The oddest part was when my two teeth fell out (I used to get teeth falling out dreams all the time, they represent anxiety and stress), and no one seemed bothered but I went to the Dentist and he said due to my over crowding they'd fill in without any hassle, which was nice.
Once I'd sorted the teeth problem, I appeared to morph in to Sir David Jason and was chatting to Steven Fry, who was playing Compo from Last of the Summer Wine and we were discussing an up and coming project and he was trying to crack on to me, and me being Sir David Jason didn't mind at all, I was rather flattered.

Yeah, I think I'm screwed! Thankfullly last night i had no dreams, so got some proper rest, the best thing about these dreams is that they've not been to stressful, so have slept well throughout them, the worst thing is how random they've all been!

Crikey!

Golly, slightly drunken blogging is a little wrong, not only are the spelling mistakes a pain in the arse but also the lack of anything to say other than crap, it's a slight problem, which is never normally a problem, as when I'm sober, I'm more tolerant of my normal crap and once a little twatted, i get impaitent and bored of myself, I become restless and fed up and have no time for bull shit or the usual crap that I'll tolerate.
It's quite funny, I keep on correcting my spelling mistakes and keep on thinking, when I do so so, that I should leave them, as you'd all still understand. The next paragraph I shall leave badly written and typed and ignore it, even though it shall haunt my dreams and cause me many a bad nights sleep (being a perfectionist is a pain in itself), I'm slightly pissed, what do I care?
tonightm, was the first night I've gone out drinking sociailly for ages and it gelt great, so wonderful. howard left me early on as she had to attend her partner with feod anf drink, so I caried on to tthe duke for drinkies, i ended up chatting to a wonderfuyl girl called Sam, she was marvelllous and jollly good fun, i fuck,ing love new people - ph so mucj, i forgot how mych i do love new peopel - sje and i had a certain uynderstanind of wach other, which was fucking ace and really nice.
OK, I'm sorry but I can not take not correcting these spelling mistakes anymore, my skin is starting to itch and my fingers starting to twitch and my iTunes has run out of tracks, which I will rectify...now.
Anyhow, I had a small amount of money to my name but when Shot O'Clock pops by 5 minutes after you walk in the door, you know you won't need more than £20. Oh dear, Shot O'Clock did actually pop by pretty quickly, which explains me right now...it will never explain my randomness, only my family can explain that and if you don't know them, you'll never truly understand...I am a marvellous individual clone - I am my mother and my father of equal proportions, as well as own self and I can recgonise their mistakes and my own and know when to curve them and how others will react, before they've done so.
If you know my family, you'll know that we are all so different, we spend forever screaming at each other but we are all so similar that we understand the screaming and know that it's so short lived and represents our love for each other, that you may as well accept what the other is saying and scream your love back - yes I'm rambling but I love my family and how very different and how exactly the same we all are. It's as simple as you can't choose your family, so you may as well try to understand them. It'll save a lot of time and annoyance in the long run. Maybe I'm just lucky, as my family are all pretty simple and straight forward, even the complicated ones...there never has been and never will be bull shit in my family, as none of us would abide it. Which I respect and love whole heartidly.

Basically, I love being me and appreciate all of the greatness and shitness through my past, as it's all applied to make me me.

I originally had a point to make about drunken blogging, I think some how I made it but failed to make it in one, jolly good. No more drunken blogging from me!!! Promise!

Here's to the Four Tops! Yeah, they are so fucking awesome!!!!

Bi-cycling around Oxford.

If someone had said to me 4 years ago that I'd be a bi-cycling around Oxford and loving it, I would have told them to go fuck themselves, as it turns out, they would have been right.
Since I moved to East Oxford, I discovered how truly awful driving around the city is (I already knew it but thought it might be ok-ish), also walking is fantastic fun but sometimes takes up to much time. So after discussing this very matter with my friend Emily, she offered me her old bike. One afternoon a few weeks later, a bike arrived for me, thanks to her uncle for dropping it off and so my love for bi-cycling and for Flo (full name being "The Fluorescent Wonder") began.

After a few cycle rides, I took to it like a duck to water...remembering how to use the gears and to up my ante when on a hill. I would do as I used to on hills by standing up and swaying side to side but that isn't Oxford bi-cycling etiquette, not at all. From what I can understand when approaching a hill, drop down a gear, then one should stay seated and make it look as easy as possible...which of course it is and I do all the time.
It's amazing how much of Oxford is designated to bi-cyclists. I'd never noticed being a driver, so it was a pleasant surprise to discover. There is parking and lanes for bi-cycles everywhere and it's hella good fun to bi-cycle around, especially when plugged in to a good album.
One of my favourite routes when bi-cycling, involves Longwall Street and then up Holywell Street, as Holywell is a slight relaxing pace and very pretty, I take this route everytime I cycle in to town. One of the others is the traffic lights at the High St./Longwall St. junction, over Madgelene Bridge and down to The Plain, I love racing the other bikes and the buses...love it!!! Also bi-cycling up to Summertown is beautiful and lovely to potter on around. Generally i'm well in to the bi-cycling and love being one of those annoying bastards in the way of all the traffic.

007 Driving school

Now the title may startle some of you but don't let it. Basically, while driving in to Oxford earlier today, I found myself behind the car in the below image, let's forget that it's a Clio and that he had no idea about indicating or roundabouts....have a look at the name of the teaching company - 007. They've even seeked special permission to use the entire logo, including the gun but am I not mistaken, did not James Bond have a license to kill? Plus, we've all seen what he does to cars! Not the best name if you ask me.

Top 5's

If/when you visit my house, you'll discover some neatly stuck up pieces of A5 paper attached to the sitting room wall, these are our 'Top 5's', one night while bored in front of the TV we decided to do so.

It started with your "Top 5 roast dinners by accompanying condiment", mine reads -
Lamb
Pork
Chicken
Turkey
Beef.

There are other topics: Top 5 roast by meat, Top 5 Veg, Top 5 Fruit, Top 5 smells, Top 5 Famous Men (this isn't who you fancy, it could be but it's more who you admire/like), Top 5 Famous Women (same as the men), Top 5 things to do with your hands, Top 5 crisps. That's about it, we did have a list of about 20 other topics on which we were going to survey but never got round to.

My Top Famous Men reads:
John Cusack - I love him and his voice.
Anthony Hopkins - He's just so cool.
Bill Bailey - He's fucking brilliant, I love him.
Gabriel Byrne - Just look at him and he's Irish.
Frank Sinatra - Well, he just has to have been there, he's amazing, even if he was an alcoholic pill popping wife beater who had no respect for women - Have you seen the original Ocean 11's?!

The one I'd love to do, but it wouldn't be met so well with some of my housemates, as some of them do not appreciate the glory of a good swearing (weirdos!), would be 'Top 5 Swear words'. Amazingly enough, number one would not be Cunt, it would be in there but number one, above all other swearwords has to be Fuck. Was there any doubt? I do hope not, as if so, I must try harder to spread the word - literally!

I think it would read something like this:
Fuck
Cunt
Cockmunch (it's a hybrid but counts)
Shit
Bollocks

The top four are for sure, without doubt but the bottom one will probably change and morph in to other words (bugger, bloody, twat and prick, for example), variety is the spice of life. Thinking about it now, Twat may have to feature as number five, as I love saying it and calling people it and it's never meant as an insult (it's meant as a pregnant fish, lol, sorry a small in joke, in joke of our house, isn't it Miss Hamilton).

So here's to Fuck, I fucking love the word and it causes a glorious, glorious release of annoyance and stress...so when irritated over the next few days, have a swear, you know you want to.

Please feel free to add your Top 5 swear words in the comments.

The Grannymobile, but you can call her Nan.

The grannymobile is coming along nicely, oh so nicely. I think I'm likely to pull some nice young chap from Oxford with it.
It's a beautiful Vintage (you know 'vintage' as in old and second hand but let's make it sound way cooler than it is) car, with only 38,000 miles on the clock, some lovely fake flowers on the dash and no power steering - I collect envious looks from others, as I tootle past them at 60mph, but what's a girl to do?!
My father has informed me, that it's such a nice car that a family of mice moved in during the winter, they've made a cute little home in the boot, tucked nicely away by the spare wheel. I mean, who else can claim that they've had inhabitants during the colder months in their cars..I think no one.

It's my birthday today and I couldn't care less, as this week is all about Friday and Friday alone...roll on Thursday night! Although saying that, I am now the proud owner of a very pretty new handbag, thanks Garbs and Vikki and one of the greatest classic rock albums ever, AC/DC - Back in Black, cheers Howard.

Up gear, down gear, no gear.

So, I had a blast last night at Nell's party, it was ace. The whole night was a joyous event with interesting people.
I drank quite a bit and had some brilliant conversations with some people I'd never met before. We played 'What's in the rucksack?', which was quite funny and rather revealing, I got it totally wrong, spoke about naming inanimate objects and then discussed religion with a lovely chap until 6.30am. Got home and to bed at 7am, oppsy!

11am, a very nice chap turns up to remove the crap from our garden and assess the state of the garden...4 hours sleep, not happy. Hangover kicking in, yeah!

Finally get some energy and drive to work to clean up after the band in the studio. Come home to find my car struggling with gear changes...as you know, I had a gurgling and had been informed that my gearbox was becoming buggered and that my clutch was on it's way out...get to the Oxford ring road, hello can't get in to gear, finally manage it, with a mild patch of panic and carry on home, trying to hurry the traffic on as I go. Get to Cowley Road, stall, not happy...some bastard bus driver, decides he'll make gestures at me, yeah because I choose for my clutch to break...Cunt!
Phone the father, he suggests Mr Clutch, as I thought that was the problem and wa-hey - my gearbox has broken and is pissing gearbox oil out everywhere, I've left a trail of oil all the way from East Oxford to the Shire and back...not good! £1300 to fix it, can't be done till Thursday, I start to cry...general life, no money, no sleep, shit car = hysteria!. am not paying £1300 for a car only worth £1700. Call the AA, this heap of Fiat shit, isn't going anywhere on it's own!!!
Mr Clutch 'Simon' is a lovely bloke, he gives me a glass of water, I finally calm down, he continues to entertain me while I wait for the AA to show up and cart my car away to a farm in the south of Oxfordshire. Call Howardo, she comes and comforts me and makes me feel not so crap, (Mr Clutch 'Simon' will be getting a big thank you in the shape and taste of a lovely bottle of red wine, I hope he drinks?!).
Mr AA arrives, I give him the directions and contact details for the farm and the chap, Dave, who’s going to be receiving.
And Howardo and I head down the Cowley Road to carry on with our lives.

Have another chat with the father and he says that they'll run the granny-mobile to me tomorrow, when the whole family come to eat lunch...yeah, the granny-mobile is wicked! It's a Mazda 323, it's ancient from way back when, in the day of your!


Isn't she a beauty!!!

It's cream, has a lovely blue interior, a manual choke, only a radio no tape or cd player, 4 gears, no central locking, wind down windows and the all important factor of all, low mileage.
I remember being driven around by my grandparents in it as a kid, it was always kept in immaculate condition, you know in that way that only old people can do...and now it's going to be my temporary car...my only fear is that it may get wrecked on the Cowley Road by students and the like...bloody drunken fools. I hope they can show it some courtesy.

So here's to my car and its shit gearbox and also to the granny-mobile!

The Greatest Month is soon to begin...

I really wanted to write something about how much I love April, not because it's my birthday month, as the month starts, 3 days later my birthday has gone by without so much of a blink of an eye.

It's more because it's one of the better changing seasonal months. We all love March, as it's the first glimpse of Summer we see, there are sunny warm days, sunny windy days, occasional rainy days and the blossom starts to bloom and the baby animals start to pop out and up everywhere.

So yes March is great, amazing weather most of the time and is generally the first piece of relief after winter but April, ahh April, April is the cold reminder that Spring is not Summer. It comes with the rain and the overcast days, it starts off the clouded warmer night, after the stark cold clear winter nights, the grass turns slightly greener due to the rain. And then towards the end of it, something happens...around the 20th, the rain always buggers off, the clouds start to part a little more and the morale of people starts to cheer up, the flowers start to bloom larger and brighter, and best of all the blossom starts to fall like snow to welcome May.

And then there is May Day, which is always a bloody good laugh and so much fun. I love having a fry up at 6am with a pint, no better way to waste my sleeping time. Especially as last May Day was shit but thankfully relived me from a large noose around my neck..this year will be grand!

Ciao.

If only...

I'm just watching the end of the new James Bond film 'Casino Royale', I'm thinking that the 1970's David Niven one was better but what do I know?! Anyhow, thanks to 'Casino Royale', I'm now extremely nostalgic for Venice. I tripped there with the mother in 2005 and fell in love (as I also did with New York, or "Neew Yoirk" as the locals would say, way back during my 18th year of life), so watching it now, while Daniel Craig and the French bird, pretending to be English, sail on through has got me pining.
I want to return, revisit the beautiful magic city, but this time, instead of the mother, a handsome chap, with charisma and charm, a gorgeously swanky hotel and loads of romantic walks and dinner, t'would be nice!

I just wanna go back, and while there I'll learn some more Italian, as saying 'Il conto, per favore' at Mario's, doesn't quite live up to my Italian dream.

Am currently eating some very nice homemade soup that Mr Conway brought me up from the studio, it's truly delicious. Was going to buy some bread, as there is nothing like bread and chunky butter with soup but I'm quite content without.

Enjoy your weekends my sweets, I just want someone to take me to Venice, nothing more. Someday my prince will come, as Snow White sang, but let's hope I don't have to constantly pick up after seven small men, be poisioned and buried in a glass coffin, before hand.

Presents I won't except..

Smellies - I had enough fucking smellies when I was at secondary school and none of us had a creative enough mind to buy anything else, other than that "Strawberry selection pack from Superdrug that came with a free bottle of Charlie Red". So no thank you. I'm finally getting round to getting rid of the last load I was given over the last few years, it's quite enough of all that. Charity shops do love me though, I donate so much crap...doing my bit for Charitee.

Candles and the like - I've already got two shoe boxes of candles, incense, oil burners, etc. I do not smell and nor does my room/house. I like Candles but they have their place. To buy someone the right ones, would involve a close examination of their lifestyle. I do like incense but thanks to a small shop in Abingdon called Escapade (it opened when I was about 12 and at the height of my incense and candle loving days), I've enough to last me an entire lifetime.

Any Chocolate other than Cadbury's - I'm not a fan, unless it's Nestle White Chocolate. I never have been...I just don't really like Mars, Nestle chocolate, or any other type.

Pants/Knickers - If you happened to randomly think this might be a good idea, it's not. I always buy my knickers a size larger than I need, as for comfort and VPL are so hideous, especially when they dig in from being too small. So if you do decide it's a good idea...French knickers in a size 12 please...oh and only natural material.

Rose Wine - I'm not a fan of the stuff at all...why be that indecisive? Either have red or white, it's not that hard and it's not as though there isn't options, most places have a selection from dry to medium and full bodied to light. For shitting Christ sake...get some wine experience and drink proper wine. This does not however include Pink Champagne, that's fine, perfectly fine.

Vodka - If you want to watch me puke for 24 hours and loose all will to do anything other than hog the toilet seat, buy me Vodka and then spike my drink. I won't thank you and nor will anyone else. And those of you who say that Vodka has no taste or smell, your wrong my whole body jerks and freezes, as soon as vodka touches my lips with or without my knowing. Allergies are so much fun!

Clothes - I don't mind clothes per say, it's more that when people do buy me clothes, they always buy the wrong size. Just because I look tall and thin, with no hips, doesn't mean that I am tall and thin with no hips. And why is it, when I tell people this, they always say "Yeah, whatever, surely you're a size 8?", as though I've been fooling myself all these years and their one comment will make me fess up to having worn the wrong sized clothes for the last 5 years?! I think I fucking know what clothing size I am, after all I do buy my clothes and wear them.
If you do buy me clothes, 10-12 (Medium) is perfect...I hate being squeezed in to my clothes, I like freedom of movement, so if you're unsure buy me the larger and I can always exchange it or adapt it, if it's that bit to big. If you want to get truly technical, Size 10 lower half, size 12 upper half.

That's about it. Probably best to stick to the presents I'll except list, unless you know me really well.

P.S. I forgot to add Wine on that list - Medium Whites and Fruity Reds.

I want, sorry would like...

Below you'll all find a fantastic list of presents I'll happily accept for my birthday:

Creme Eggs (I would say in all shapes and sizes, but this is not true, as the fondant in the small ones is gross!), Double Deckers are also a fantastic option. If I was going for the jugular of all Chocolate bars, I'd opt for a Wispa (and no, Cadbury's Bubbly is not a good remake, not at all!!! It's lies, all lies!) but that would involve time travel, which really is to much to ask and expect.

Socks, preferably in my size but I'm really not fuss, with fun shapes and colours would be a pleasure. I'm a size 6-7.

Anything on my Amazon wishlist, listed under Pipsywoo and don't judge, just because I like a lot of crap, I've got to put up with it, not you...so just observe and move along.

Tickets to the theatre, only good theatre though. Gift Vouchers of any size, in general are good and yes I know I sound like an old person, I except it's a classic old person comment and so is the following comment, they are practical..as are vests, warm coats and ugly shoes.

Dinners, offers or restaurants either are good...I bloody love food.

Bottles of Champagne will be accepted and appreciated if chillled, but not appreciated if drunk.

Obviously Re: previous posts a blender would be so much appreciated but unlikely, can't wait to buy one...yeah! Frozen Margaritas!!!

Failing all of the above, a fantastic costume, a large smile and your presence would be enough to make me a happy person.

Lost's John Locke - A Marvellous Man

Now since Lost started, I've found myself fighting with my Lost loving friends. Many of them found John Locke's character sinister and odd. I find him endearing and lovable.

I love how he constantly has a slight smile on his face and with his new scar from the plane crash he's so cute, there really is nothing like a scar on the face of a man, to make him look butch and adorable.

Now, Lost did a fantastic job of making this amazing character on the borderline, is he a misunderstood huntsman or is he a sinister bloke with his own agenda, who knows! I think that is why he's one of the only characters who hasn't been assigned in a certain way. He was given a scar due to the crash to make him look scary, had a briefcase of knives, constant smile on his face, etc...all of his background stories have shown him as an angry gentle but misunderstood individual, a sweet natured kind soul and yet some of my friends are adament that he's evil or wrong.

He's not, he's marvellous. And he got the use of his legs back, a walking miracle to state nothing else.

I love him and think he's great...one of my ultimate favourites!


How could anyone with face like this be evil?!

Bloody learner drivers.

Today I've been followed (I say followed but they are always in front of me which implies I'm stalking them, although I'm not) by every bloody learner driver on the roads of Oxfordshire. Every time I got rid of one, another would crop up and totter along in front of me, causing me to get annoyed. And not only are they out in force and copying my every move, they are also just starting out in the driving stakes, so therefore stalling, weaving, not indicating, breaking 30 meters away from the hazard, etc, bloody people. I try and be considerate, as I don't want to add to their nerves and I remember what it was like to be a learner (all those years ago) but bloody fucking hell, Jesus, Joseph and Mary - Fucking get out of my way and off the roads, until you've learnt to drive.


A future blog of mine, will be one about bi-cycling and how much fun it is, in and around the city of Oxford. You'll also be introduced to the Fluorescent Wonder, if you haven't already seen me flying around on her. She really is a beauty to behold.
And no, I'm not choosing bi-cycling over driving, hell no but it is a handy alternative in a city, where the Council constantly rip up the roads, make it hell to get from one side to the other, charge ridiculous prices for parking and remove parking spaces whenever they fancy.

RIP my blender.

I am a lover of gadgets and general kitchen appliances. One of my favourite being the blender.
Now I feel sorry for blenders generally, as they are always over looked by numerous other appilances such as Sandwich Toasters/George Foremans, Deluxe Corkscrew sets, Kettles that change colours, Steamers, Expensive Knives, Milk frothers and Coffee Makers, to name a few.
Now of course there are the variations on the blender - food processors, hand held blenders, even smoothy makers (which get me so mad, they are blenders with a spout, what the fuck is the point, god this vexes me so much and I can't help but rant away - When I see one, I get so angry and generally have to have a word with the person who owns it. And yes my friend Jo had one and I told her what I thought, she soon learnt to hide it from my eyes when I visited) but my favourite is the classic, upright jugged blender, there's nothing mightier or more practical and they always look so regal on the work top, they are one of the appliances that have right of place on the work counter and not hidden in a box or cupboard some where. They stand so tall and proud and if you've taken great care in choosing your's, then it is probably glass, with black and shiny metal bits, it deserves to be admired by the passing visitors. there are no gimicks with them, they are straight talking machines, works of art and they never fail. They were designed with such care that they are easy to take apart and clean, what a marvel of design, creation, art, etc!

I am currently mourning the death of my old one. He was six months old and very pretty. He wasn't ideal, he was cheap, from Sainsbury's and wouldn't blend certain thick things, he'd freak out if you put him on his highest setting and as for his ice crushing option, yeah right whatever?! But he was a genius little thing and I adored him so much, when I bought him, I was so happy, I bounced up and down with glee! So to discover while trying to make soup last night, that he'd been cracked right down his side, straight through, was devastating, although watching the chicken stock pour out of the side was quite entertaining. I am slowly diposing of him bit by bit, I feel the pain will be less this way.

So, if anyone is lost on what to get me for my 'Quarter of a Century' birthday, a state of the art blender wouldn't go amiss, although you may want to buy with a friend of mine, as a good one, who does all he promises is around £50+ but I think I'm worth it.

A favour...

...if anyone sees Britney Spears, can they please give the girl a hug, offer her a pork pie with maybe some Branston Pickle on the side and lend her an ear to talk in to but DO NOT sell the story, as that would be mean.

Cheers.

Random items to shopping

I just had to pop to Sainsbury's a short while ago and I had to buy two random items.
I was hoping that there would be a witty comment or a pun or a general one liner from the cashier but nothing, god damn, not even a knowing look. When did these people learn not to pry?! Since when did these people have respect to not comment. I remember being one of these people and I was rarely respectable or considerate...hell no, it's no fun. Sat on a cashier for 8 hours, in two 4 hour breaks, with 15 minute breaks in both halves. It's godly boring, quips, puns, one liners, witty remarks, smart arse comments and knowing looks are all I had to save me from going crazy.
I mean if someone had bought a pack of condoms and a cucumber at the same time, a knowing smile would be demanded, at least. So why not when someone buys the below products!!! Bloody Sainsbury's did a better job at removing their cashier's personalities, than Waitrose ever did!



On an upside, look how pretty the power station looked this morning, a beautiful archway over the poetic cooling towers. Oh so pretty.

I can confirm...

...that Peppermint Tea and Ginger Nut biscuits do not go together.

It's not advisable.

Cor, I forgot...

...how tasty, a good cup of tea and a ginger nut biscuit is.
I'm telling you right now, if you've got the chance to invest in this ideal tea break snack, you should do so.

Not recommended

I cooked peas in the microwave at work today, it's not recommended.

Bliming cameo's

So I finally went to see Hot Fuzz yesterday, I thoroughly enjoyed it and liked it a lot more than Shawn of the Dead (please keep your comments and views to yourselves, lol). I haven't laughed like that for ages, so really enjoyed it.
I loved the cameos from so many well known actors and comedians but most of the way through the film, I couldn't suss out why I knew who Blower and Wainwright were, it irritated me for ages and finally, thanks to the wonders of the web...Frank Bloody Gallagher, damn him! And only bloody Dead Man's Shoes star Paddy Considine, god the internet is a wonderful place!
Yeah, I'd recommend it to everyone.

As for Babel, it's another film (after Se7en, Fight Club, Twelve Monkeys, need I go on?!) where Brad Pitt decides he has to prove he can act "for christ's sake, we know this already, get over it!". So yeah, it's ok, really long, a bit shit and pointless...although the portrayl with the Japanese deaf mute girl has an interesting part with the night club, which is actually quite intense but the rest of it is dull. The only thing that kept me going were the occasional clips of Gael Garcia Bernel, god bless his pretty face and soul. Don't bother, unless you've time to waste.

What does the Internet smell like?

I was having a charming chat with Lukas through the power of emails and I brought up an interesting question: What does the Internet smell like? I assume it smells like sweat, hot wires and sperm...but there must be more to it than that. If the internet existed in the sense that space does...surely there must be a scent. I imagine that space smells too, like charcoal maybe?...but I'm sure that a scientist would tell me otherwise and then give me a three hour lecture on why there can't be any scent, or whatever.
If the internet does smell as I assume, would it be just sperm or would it be more female juices too, or just the basic smell of sex? As sex is generally an act between two people and yet a lot of what happens online is between one person and a camera/computer.
If anyone has any ideas, let me know?!

On a lighter note, I've started a blog about my experiences of no myspace (proper addict style of replacing one addiction with another), it'll be like the Big Brother updates (as suggested by Dale or Carl, well they suggested it for their's but I'm stealing it)...although probably a lot less witty and without the northern accent, I would try but anyone whose heard my attempts at accents will know why I'm avoiding this matter.

I watched The Science of Sleep last night and it was brilliant, very beautiful and rather funny. Gosh, I love beautiful arty films which make you think or just look at life in a different sense. I recommend it, to those of you who like artsy films, and to those of you who don't like artsy films or the occasional subtitles - avoid!

Strange going ons.

The toilet at work smells like cat wee and I can't get enough Peppermint tea at the mo, I'm not sure why this is but I love the fact that the box claims it to be 100% Peppermint leaves and no caffeine. And it smells like mint and makes me crave roast lamb, oh roast lamb how I love thee.

Other than that nothing to report, oh I'm giving up Myspace for lent, decided if I'm going to be a good Catholic girl?! That I should give up something worth while and at least I can start my exploration of better things online...there must be something else to occupy my time, so I don't miss it.
I have also changed my comments to be approved only, so I can't cheat and see what people are writing, when I commit, I commit properly.

Stranger Than Fiction is a pretty good film. And I can't wait to see The Science of Sleep tonight, CAN NOT WAIT!

The season of Lent.

40 days of sacrificing something your so used to, it's like the blood in your system. Giving up something that is a painful experience, something that means a lot and something that represents your willing to show your commitment to life, or your religion, whichever way you want to look at it?!
Every year my father asks the following question Philippa what are you giving up for Lent? and every year I give him the same answer, the same answer I give when people ask about my New Year Resolutions and my birthday wishes - Nothing!
But this year represented a change in me, I have two New Years Resolutions (stop biting my nail and to sort out my finances, so by 2008, I've some savings and no overdraft) and I'm also going to give up something for lent but what to give up is the ultimate question. Plus it's right over my birthday, so I don't want to give up alcohol or something that I may rely on for my birthday celebrations but I want it to count and make me think about life.
I've spoken with my housemates about it. Lollipop suggested all fizzy drinks but that would include Soda water, which is a hell no! I could give up just Coca-Cola but since my last stint of not eating due to anxiety, I've hardly drunk any and Diet Coca-Cola is such a momentary thing that it wouldn't even register on my scale.
Swearing was suggested but I'd break that immediately, I've tried for my mother's sake to stop swearing before but it never lasts. She then suggested that I just gave up the C word (Cunt to you and I) but it's my substitute swear word and having to wait 40 days to call someone it, would kill me, especially when no other word will do (only other passionate swearers will truly appreciate the poetry in that statement, I know Lukas will for sure).
Cleaning was suggested but it wouldn't last long and would probably cause me to be commited under the mental health act and as lovely as Littlemore appears, I like viewing it from the outside.
I could try to give up Bitching but my life would become so black and white and I'd end up crying myself to sleep, as I'd be curving my natural instinct to say what everyone else is thinking.
There's no point in giving up crisps, Jaffa Cakes or chocolate, as since going back to work after Christmas, I've hardly eaten any.
I could give up shopping or pub trips but I've not done any of these things recently due to lack of funds.
Giving up things such as Family Guy, streaming America TV online or Myspace, would cause my days at work to be so unbearable, I'd cry cry cry and not in a 'I wear my emotional heart on my shoulder and cry at everything' sense, more a I'm loosing the will to live, oh dear god be done with me immediately and put everyone else out of their misery, by doing away with me.

So I'm left with the final question of what to give up and I've only one day to make my mind up.

I could try Myspace and at least everyone would be able to see if I've cheated or not. But I'm lost, damn it, trying to please my father for the first time in ages in relation to the faith I was raised as, is so hard!

It feels like ages, since I felt like this...

On a day where Anna Nicole Smith has died for currently unknown reasons, Axl claims not to find the appeal of porn appertising and my fortnight finally looks like it's going to take a turn for the better, finally.
I today have found myself watching two films while sat at my desk. The first being "Perfume: The Story of a Murderer", now I got excited about this when I saw the trailer and I wasn't disappointed (except for the lack of attempt at accents, bloody American audiences), although I haven't read the book and when I told Julie from the office what I was watching, she observed that he wasn't unattractive enough and then continued with her comments. although little do you all know, that I'm refusing to ever read the book before watching the film, as I'm always so dissapointed with the film and I hate being disappointed by films, as I adore them. If the book takes my fancy, then I may carry on with a book but I'm not a big reader, in fact it's more I don't find much time to read, I'm always on the go with creating, sewing, cooking, baking or something else.
The second film I observed was "A Night at the Museum", it was rather good. It had a brilliant cast and I did enjoy it, it was nice to just be able to switch off and not think about what's going on and as always the typical Disney ending was installed, which is nice.

I've had an odd week, with interesting revelations, horrendous hangovers, sales offers for my creations, home truths, dinner parties, calls from abroad, forced holidays from friends who need to be alone to deal with their past, tears and upsets, mega make-up, burnt mouths from Ratatouille, trips away from Oxford, an amazing gig and a crap gig and finally, Karma coming to serve up some just deserts, which is always pleasant to observe, especially when I've been on the receiving end of these certain people's actions. I wish all the best to those who are being bitten by Karma but don't turn to me anymore, as this door mat has walked away.

For once and the first time in a while, I'm thinking about me and not how my actions effect others and it feels alright. I'm not sure how long I'll wear this jacket for, as it's not really my thing but for now, it's a cosy fit but I think I'll keep the training wheels on for a while, just in case.

Fuck YEAH!!!

The new series of America's Next Top Model is on tonight, I'm oh so excited, it is the greatest show and I can't wait to see who the next Jade will be.....yeah!!!!

The Static Charged Jeremy Kyle Show

I haven't really watched that much Jeremy Kyle of late, there is only so much polyester, screaming obscenities at the tops of their smoked effect voices with their badly enunciated speech, TV watching that I can do, before I start wanting to kill myself or buy a stately home somewhere remote, to continue my belief that Georgian (2007) England is a marvellous place, where women are ladies (who wear dresses, cross their ankles, sit up straight, do the daily household chores like embroidery, speak in such pretty voices and are generally marvellous human beings) and men are gentlemen (who wear britches, ride horses, find it hard to say the right words to express how they are feeling, defend the honour of every lady and are generally marvellous).

I used to quite enjoy Trisha though, as she'd been everywhere and done everything...she'd have a guest on the show who'd be a scag hooked prostitute, who was beaten by their mother, sexually assaulted by their dad, ridiculed and made to feel worthless by their uncle and her brother would be her drug dealing pimp and Trisha would have done it a little better, by doing it while constantly juggling and on a unicycle...god she was great.

But Jeremy Kyle just tells people that everyone gets a say on his show and then when they try to say something, he shouts at them...I do however, love how he always penalises one of them, in the typical bad guest/good guest stylee.

The average person in the audience, look as though they didn't know that there is a difference between man-made and natural fibres. And with the glare and shine the camera picks up when it swings round to the audience, it leads me to believe that they are on average wearing man-made fibres, as well as too much blusher, a base which is wrong for their skin tone, a bra 3 sizes to small and were unable to get to their mate to have their toilet bleach highlights retouched.
Now generally in studios, there is a lot of electric energy running around the studio, with cameras, cabling, lights, etc.

So miniture mathematical equation: Man Made fibres + electricity/friction = static charge!

Basically:
How much static energy must be in the Jeremy Kyle studio?
Do Jeremy and his crew have to wear anti-static armour?!
Do they earth the bottom of the audiences seats?
And if it's of considerable amounts, could we harness it some how and use it to shoot rockets of the guests in to space or maybe just Jeremy?

Onions, Apples and Potatoes

Apparently, if you tasted Onions, Apples and Potatoes without your sense of smell, they would all taste the same and feel the same, texture wise.

I don't know if I believe it but I'm tempted to try it out. Maybe one night or on some weekend very soon, I'll try my own little experiment and I'll write a report and let you all know.

I wonder if it matters which type of Onions, Apples and Potatoes I use, and obviously I don't mean ones like Pickled Onions, Toffee Apples and Potato Chips (Crisps), I mean as in: Red or White Onions? Braeburn or Pink Ladies? King Edwards or White Potatoes?

Anyway, here's to science and still performing experiments years after I left school...I always did appreciate Chemistry.

The Life Of A Bluffer...

The older I get, the more 'The Life Of A Bluffer' looks grand. I'm thinking that bluffing, dipping and diving through life with no real plans or beliefs would be a easy option. Although to be fair I don't have many plans in life, other than to be happy and as for beliefs, I have many but whether I'll debate about them, is another matter. So maybe I am a bluffer but in disguise of someone whose collected and organised?!

Either way, I may change my non-existent plan and go for the jugular of Bluffer.

Who knows, or maybe I could join the directionless wannabes and become a "Scenester", chat shit about bands I've never heard of and couldn't care less about and dress like Karen O (is she still cool?), as dressing like me would be way uncool!

Whatever happens, it's all pointless and meaningless, so at least I'll never loose sleep over any of it. Which is nice!

Worry Wart!

Why do warts worry? And which was the first wart to worried?

I personally think that in the olden days, they believed that warts were caused by worrying but that makes far to much sense and is the sensible answer, so anyone got any ideas?!

Onions

Is it me, or have onions shrunk in recent years? I remember them being so much bigger, when I was a young whipper snapper, maybe it is just me?!

Oh well, that's all I've got to say, not much I know but at least it's something.

The Trials and tribulations of Owning a Goldfish Called Bob (Part 2)

Yeah, at last, our water was good and we were finally allowed two more fishies. The water isn't perfect but it's a clear improvement and it's all pretty good, so today CarrieMac and Viktorious purchased two more fishies.
CarrieMac bought Mr T and Viktorious bought Claude.


Bob, Mr T and Claude

Bob and Claude

OK guys, that'll probably be the last time you hear about the fish, well until one of them dies, so don't loose your will to live just yet. Lol.

Enjoy.

The Trials and Tribulations of Owning a Goldfish Called Bob (Part 1)

Just before Christmas, I finally took the dive and bought myself a pet. A few years a go, I owned fish with my ex, they resided with him, we went through about 7 and we gave up, I'm not sure if they starved, were over fed or just depressed but none of them survived.

So, after some time of continually telling my housemates that I was going to buy a goldfish and call it Bob, I finally did!

On the Friday before Christmas, when most of my housemates had departed for home, I purchased little Bobafet. I was going to buy the cutest little glass bowl, but was informed that if my beloved housemates were to buy one each, I'd need a larger one, so bought a huge bowl, it's the hugest thing in the world, if Bobafet died early on, I would have used it as an astronauts helmet...yeah that big!!!

So, one bowl, one cute little fish, some food and some water conditioners later, I was on my way back up Madgalen Road.
Once home, I introduced Bob to Lollipop, just before she left for the north (and I mean the northernest part of north, all the way up by Geordi-land!). Once set up, little Bob was rested for a while to aclimatise to the water, then released...a little like when Willy was freed by that annoying little kid. He swam and dove and ate and bobbeded (I know it's not a word, but go with me) everywhere. I fed him and watched him for hours, everytime I walked by him, I'd say hello and give him a little wave. He shat a lot and I mean big long ones that stuck to his bum, he also danced a lot and also came to the surface without any qualms when feeding time arrived.


Bob in his bowl, on the day of purchase

After Christmas had come and gone and my housemates had returned, CarrieMac and I popped down to The Goldfish bowl. Once in the shop, I asked for a water check, as I didn't want to pollute any other fishies than my own and CarrieMac went to admire the fishies and select her fishy, after loads of debating and tooing and throwing, she decided on one which looks like a little punk, I want her to call it Ray but it's up to her, so we will see...she was keen on a Bubble Eyed but I convinced her other wise, as I wouldn't have been able to take the bowl seriously. Once the water check was back the man chuckled at me when he returned and said that I was killing my fish, so I got a little upset and £30 later had purchased a water filter and the information to save Bob. I was also told to not feed him as much, although I was hardly feeding him in the first place, so Bob went on a diet.

5 days later with bastard New Year out of the way, Viktorious, CarrieMac and I went back to The Goldfish Bowl. Once again with a water test in mind, I wanted to make sure that Bob's water was getting better. CarrieMac went to check to see if her fish was still there, it was and Viktorious went to see which fishy she'd opt for...with fishies in mind, I went to collect the results of my water test and once again I was informed that I was still killing Bob, although it's better than it was, which is nice. So I discussed which gravel would be best, as maybe the stones I had weren't helping, I was right and I got some new filter tops and some lovely gravel. I was informed to part change his water once a day for three days and to not feed him.

Friday morning came round (that's today by the way) and I woke up to change Bob's water. Once done, I also put the new gravel in, I rinsed it and made it all pretty, added the water and poof! It became all murky, so I hoped that it would clear up, I put the filter on and after an hour, it was still gross, so I took the exective decision and did a full water change and rewashed the gravel. Once all back in with the water conditioners and the right temperature, I left little Bob to potter around his temporary bowl and in Viktorious' care, as I had a lunch date. After lunch, back home, yes I know I'm not a very caring mother, leaving him in his hour of need, I checked to see if he was fine and he was happy as Larry (although I'm still unsure who Larry is and why he was so happy! but that's another blog), the water was still a little murky but it was clearing up and is still clearing up...he's bobbing about and I'm trying not to taunt him by eating in front of him, as that is cruel.


This is Bob today, he's looking good but getting a little camera shy. (Sorry if you can't really see him againist the gorgeous golden curtain of wonder but it's impressively Golden.)

He's the love of our house' life and he's so happy. Everyone has chats with him and we all end up giving him looks, while the TV is getting boring. He's a fixture and we all adore him. Once The Goldfish Bowl has stopped telling me that I'm killing him, we'll have two more fishies with him, although I'm concerned that maybe Bob will be to set in his ways and way to much of a loner and won't be able to settle with two more fishies but who knows what will happen. Let's just hope that on Monday morning, the water will be perfect and Bobafet will have some little buddies, yeah!!!

Chrimbo, Ho Ho Ho!

Ahh, so at last, Pauline Fowler has passed on and how sweet, full of redemption and regret but oh no, it's just that little bit to late, gosh darn it!
Last night was a night filled with perfecting the Christmas presents I was giving, making some last minute pieces of jewellery for some of my friends and watching bad films relating to Christmas. The worse being: Whoppi Goldberg's "Call Me Claus", in which she discovers that she is in fact, the next Father Christmas, it nearly made me loose the will to live but fortunately, I've watched some crap in the past, so that saved me. The best being the ultimate Christmas film - "Santa Claus: The Movie", although watching "Uncle Buck" (not a Christmas film but on at Christmas) was a thoroughly enjoyable hour and a half spent.
At half ten, I popped to a place called The Zodiac, not sure if any of you Oxfordian's know of it but it's a fantastic little dive, which is close to my heart and means a lot to me. I spend most of the evening in the DJ booth with the delectable Miss Nelly B Page and Mr Tommy Kneecaps. I also came out of the ladies downstairs and slipped arse over tits, the first and hopefully last time ever, 'twas quite funny. Photos to follow of the evening on my myspace blog.
Christmas was spent with the family, feeling hungover and tired, making adult conversation and opening presents. Joy!!

He deserved a slap!

My day today started quite well. I had a good nights sleep and didn't have any weird dreams, for once. I was rather alert and awake as my alarms sounded too, which for me is a feat.
Up and dressed I got and so I started my day. The Cowley Road was rather empty as I tootled up it, which was nice and then to The Royal Mail Sorting Office I went. I was running a little late for work, so I needed to fly in and out to collect my parcel and then carrying on to work, work, work!
I arrive, no parking bays free, typical I mutter. So as I'm intending to fly in and out, I park on the double yellows, I'm only in the way of one form of the public and that's the pedestrians and it's a industrial estate, so that's not much of a worry. So out of my car I get, to be informed by a nice lady (whose in the sorting office) that the clampers have discovered a lovely little black spot with this said area and the crapness of the 8 bays they offer to visitors and customers of this said building, so are pretty much on the case and hover and strike the unsuspecting people (obviously if your a clamper, it's far easier to sit on black spot, instead of clamping the real pain in the arse parkers). She says that she'll be departing very shortly in her red MGF, so I get back in my car, turn around and hover, for her to move...5 minutes, two more customers and the watching of one stupid woman in an MPV who can't mount the pavement, as she may upset her son in the back of the car later, not as quick as she implied, she departs. I pull in, better than she had, so that the stupid woman in her MPV can pull in next to me, does she? like fuck!!! I really shouldn't have bothered my little head about it!
Once inside, I ring the bell, one minute later a post guy (not a postman, just a postal worker) smiles, takes my card and buggers off. A minute later, another man pops in to the window, to collect the stupid woman in the MPV's card, while her son constant need to pull faces, makes me want the wind to change drastically, that'll teach the little shit!
While waiting for the post guy whose dealing with my parcel to return from the depths of Oxford's sorting office, I notice and read the sign saying that the Royal Mail's workers are respectful and polite, so could we please be so to them in return. I start thinking about why you would want to abuse one of these people, they have your parcel, you give them the card, they give you your parcel..occasionally you exchange it for money but it's not their fault, it's the head honcho's fault for increasing the prices or the person who sent you the parcel's fault for not paying enough...it's crazy to think someone would want to insult one of the post guys!
Finally the smiley man returns laughing. I enquire to why he's laughing and he says the following, while pointing at my parcel "Mole, I know, I know" (To which I'm expecting him to say, "I know I shouldn't be laughing at your surname but I'm a prick and have no respect for anyone, my days are spent sitting in this little office with him, and he has a flatulence issue that can make the atmosphere polluted and the job ever so hard, so I'm trying to find certain issues funny, to lighten my day, please please please except my deepest apologies at being so rude, I'm ever so sorry. And please have a pleasant Christmas". But does he? Fuck off does he, instead he completes the sentence with the following.) "it's funny isn't it, Mole! ha ha ha".
At which point I look at him in dismay, he chuckles some more expecting me to chuckle with him and probably say something to the effect of "I know, stupid name, it makes me laugh everyday, I'm so lucky, much better than being a boring old Smith or Jones, ha ha ha, I really am lucky to have such a hilarious name". But no instead, I look at him and then the respectful sign with the implication that the Royal Mail staff are ever so respectful and feel like giving him torrents of verbal abuse starting with the saying "How very dare you?! You ignorant cretin! blah blah blah", but I don't, as I'm respectful...I give him a dishearten look and depart.
Fucking Prick!!! What a fucking nerve, how fucking dare he...ignorant little twat...what the fuck did I ever do to him and at which point did I ever ask him to comment on my surname or ask his opinion, I don't think I fucking well did. I know he must have a pretty shitty job at times but don't we all?! So at which point did he think he had the right to criticise my name! I've lived with the surname Mole all of my life and I actually have grown to like it, after years of ridicule and names being chucked in my direction, it's quite hard to find a name that I haven't been called and if it's a drunken ignorant prick at a party, who I have just met or only know through a friend, I laugh with them and chuckle away, as I know I'm better than them (in many ways but mainly through respect and decorum), but as for the people who are supposed to be supplying me with a service, paid for by the public...it's outrageous!
Needless to say, I was late for work!

So It's all about ...

I had a dream last night that I was the "Ghost Whisperer', it's was awesome, I was walking around talking to all these dead people and catching up on the gossip...shit thing was, that one of the people was my mum and hell no, there is no way that is happening for a while, I'm so not ready to say goodbye to either of my delectable parents! Other than that though, it was quite cool...although waking up crying, as I was upset due to my ma's passing, wasn't overly great but it's not the first time I've had that dream and it won't be the last.

I'm all about steak at the moment, I can't get enough dead cow, it's quite worrying, it can come with anything and everything, I've eaten out twice in the last 2 days and have had steak both times, both medium rare, both with different sauces. both yummy and I'm hoping that I won't need a third one, other wise I may fret.

I'm sleeping so heavily that it's making me exhausted, which is a bizarre experience.

My brow won't desist this constant need to tense, so I'm always fixed in a frown, which is an odd thing to do...I'm now developing wrinkles between my eyebrows and suffering from constant tension headaches. I've even found that turning the brightness down on my work computer and laptop doesn't help much, I think I'm doomed to have watchers brow (the observers equivilent for smoking drag lines) for the rest of my life!

Oh well back to the incessant requirement to be at work, without any work to do.

Talking of work, the other day we were sent the following book for one of the people we represent:

Originally, we thought 'wow, what a lovely gesture. I'm sure he and his children will love it', thinking an atlas, great and animals, even better. There is nothing more that a young boy would want. Although on a closer look, we realised that it was a Creantionist's book of their supposed "proof" that evolution never happened and that the almighty placed everything on this planet, with a greater plan.
Now, I'm a fan of random religions and The Evangelical Church of Creation, is one of my more favourites, in my eyes they are up there with the Mormon, who are brilliant...the reason they are one of the largest religions is because they convert the dead (fantastic idea, bless them) and the fact that they compared the South Park Mormons episode, to what the Mormons' are taught and they admitted that it's near enough the same. Crazy and they aren't even concerned with how ludricrious it looks but then again, why should they be, as they've got faith and that's all they need.
One of my other favourite religions is Scientology, it's based on a science fiction book...pure genius! Although I probably shouldn't laugh, as all of the other religions are based on books...lol.
If anyone ever fancies a flick through this book, just let me know...their excuses for how you can make a fossil within a day, is impressive! If you'd like to learn more about them Click Here. i know for a fact that I'd opt to go there, instead of Disney World, why go to see fairy tales in progress and Mickey Mouse, when you can learn and find out about an alternative view, a view that comes from 300 years ago, way before Darwin and his crazy ideals.


Toddle Pip.

I want one scrap that, I need one!

I've been wanting a Chrimbo jumper since I was small, after spending many hours watching bad American TV.
So this year I set about, finding one. I'd like one ultimately in red or green with some hideous tesselations of Reindeers, Christmas Trees or Father Christmas', just something gross!
So when I stumbled across this one, I fell in love but for something that's a joke, I couldn't justify spending £60 plus.
So for now, I'll dream a little dream of this jumper.

My addiction...

So, I've known for some time that I enjoy bad TV and it was my way to escape reality and to relax. It's also why I read crap books and enjoy crap magazines.
I'm not an overtly deep thinker but certain issues weigh heavy on my mind and I spend a lot of time thinking about people, situations, etc. I'm also quick witted and what I would call a social intellect.

So when I recently started to analyse how much crap TV I watched, I was pretty scared for myself and my friends.

There are two categories of TV -

TV shows I like, know are rubbish but will stand up for my right to watch them:

America’s Next Top Model - My addiction to this programme has gotten so bad that all of my housemates are now hooked on America's Next Top Model...most of us love Joanie and hate Jade. Roll around Monday night and everything goes on hold for an hour, from 9-10pm.
Ugly Betty - This is truly awful, so horrendous, but I adore it, so so much! She's great and Daniel Meade is just for show. Wilhelmina and her friend in the cosmetic surgery are just entertaining and as for Jim Daniels being American once again, crazy!
The Ghost Whisperer - What is it with her telling everyone her real name and then telling them all her secret, she's going to pass everyone over and everyone's going to know her secret...she fell out with a friend at uni because of this very matter and she runs around shouting her mouth off. She's constantly talking to herself and everyone excepts it and the ghosts all have shadows? Her colleague/business partner except her never working in the store or immediate departures in the middle of the day and how many antiques can you sell in one small town, to justify running such a large store?! As for the shittest titles I've ever seen in the world...well I just love it, all of it! Except for the fact that it makes me cry like a baby, I'm so pathetic!.
The OC - It's The OC, lucid story lines, bad acting, everyone forgives everyone, just because. They always look incredible. Huge houses and constant rich, bored kids. What more could you want?!
Ed - He's great, one of my favourite episodes was when they locked Ed and Carol in the bowling alley, until they admitted that they still loved each other. It's great. It's set in a small town, around a bowling alley, and a great group of friends.
Most Haunted - The old ones with Derek were better, now it's shit!
8 Simple Rules - I haven't seen the episodes after the dad has died but it's crap and the girl from Charmed is mega skinny (it makes me want to puke, which is probably what she does after every meal). Also, the youngest daughter is actually 8 years senior of the skinny blonde one. The more entertaining of the whole affair is that the mum from 'Married With Children" is in it, yeah!
Everybody loves Raymond - It annoys a lot of people but I love it, so much, sorry but the dumb/not dumb brother. The over bearing mother and Peter Boyle, he's great, from such classics as: Santa Clause 1-3, Doctor Doolittle, While You Were Sleeping, Malcolm X, Where The Buffalo Roam & Taxi Driver.
Judging Amy - Typical drama of being a working mum, with mother whose the world and it's all about doing the right thing and making the best decisions for everyone. It's a classic!
Providence - Similar to Judging Amy but a little more intricate, with her dead mother's ghost, who pops in. An idiot brother. A highly strung single sister with daughter and an ever loving father, whose a vet.



TV Shows I like, know are rubbish and try not to admit to people I like them, as I'm ashamed:

Derek Accorah's Ghost Towns - Like Most Haunted, without Yvette Fielding screaming.
Charmed - It's crap, total and utter crap. To many storylines and it all hangs in the balance of which or how the actors are feeling. Shannon Doherty decides to pull out and they kill her off and bring in Rose McGowan, a long lost sister. As for the fact that they never know where the kids are, irresponsible parenting. And the most stupid "let's kill ourselves off, so we can live a normal life, opps! it didn't work, oh well, let's carry on regardless". Crazy but it does have the ability to fill my time and it's normally quite entertaining.
Britain's Next Top Model - Lisa Snowdon trying to be Tyra Banks, It's painful, as for the stupid cows...English girls really are bitchy!.
Australia's Next Top Model - As bad as the British ones, minus the Tyra Banks wannabe Lisa Snowdon.
Kings of Queens - Awful, but it has the fantastic Kevin James in, he's so loveable and with Jerry Stiller for good measure. True Brilliance!
Hope and Faith - How awful is this?! The two sisters are crap, the storylines are dreadful. The oldest daughter, is old enough to be a sister. It's pure bollocks and I love to hate to love it!


Yep, I'm sick, sick in the head...but I love it, oh so much and surprisingly most of my friends except it and even join me in the watching of these crap TV shows.

Please refrain from pointing and laughing at me in the future, as I've fronted up and admitted that I'm ill. Plus if anyone fancies ever joining me in the crap TV watching, then they are more than welcome anytime!

I found a grey what at 24?

I've known for some time that I had the occasional grey hair in my bonnet but jesus...I realised a few days ago, why I've been dying my hair since I was 13, it's because I knew that soon enough, I'd be sporting the aging look.
If it was in the perfect style of Cruella Deville or Caryn Franklin, then I'd happily keep it and go for gold in the delicate art of aging gracefully but at 24? I do think not!
And I am so fed up of my blonde friends laughing at the idea of having grey/white hair at 24, jesus girls, half of your bonnets have been white/grey for some time, making up a good percentage of your multi-tonal crowning glory.
I personally like discussing this matter with my like headed friends and also those whom believe that they natural colour is something totally different to what it actually is, as they haven't truly seen it in ages, yonks, donkey's years, centuries, need I go on? I don't think so.
As for the pulling one out and 5 growing back, it's bastardly true...although I think that grey hair is more like mould, once you get one and notice it, it's spreads and grows at double the rate it did.
So here's to praying that all of my grey hairs start discussing the matter of growing in a collective and give me a graceful streak.
The only buggering thing about it, is that my regrowth under the dye, looks horrendous and I can't get away with being lazy and avoiding the matter of redying...so here's to being more on the ball and denying the art of growing old gracefully, well for at least another 10 years.

Snotty McSnotter

Illness and missing being healthy!

I had a period about a year a go, where I was ill constantly, mainly due to "Burning the candle at both ends" as the oldens' would say, but that has been put behind me, since I quit working at the nightclub, sleeping more, relaxing and I mean proper relaxing, and just general well being, such as taking vitamin tablets and acupuncture, as well as becoming the ambassador of Peppers and other mediterrean vegetables, they'll come with every meal and will be served in various ways...ahh, they are so joyous and yummy!
But for some reason, when I do get a cold or other illness, they takes forever to arrive and forever to leave, properly.
Take this thing, I've recently contracted, well I actually contracted it about 2 weeks ago but will it arrive or go, hell no...I'm almost in the believe that it's been 3 different cold/flu/illnesses in one...On the morning of Tuesday 31st October, I had a tickle in my throat and a slght clogging at the back of my nose, I'm guessing my sinus...well anyway. I had a rest and a sleep, later that night I celebrated Halloween in sober stylee, due to feeling a little pants and having work the next day.
For the following few days the symptoms would appear worse in the morning but clear up during the day.
After a week of this crap, it turned in to a dry throat and hacking cough, with intermitant headaches. I chose to take the Monday off work, in the thinking that if I took a day off, when I felt crappy, I could stop it before it took hold, so I rested up and slept...but low and behold by the end of that week, it turned in to a blocked nose and general grogginess and now I have this full on cold, with running eyes, tension headaches, runny nose, blocked everything, the only part of me that feels fine is my throat and even that feels a little tender.
My biggest problem, is that I'm not a big fan of admitting that I'm ill, I like to think that with a little extra sleep and keeping my fluid intakes up, will budge it. But once I have admitted that maybe I'm a little ill, I generally over react, with eating soup, drinking everything and anything that has cold/flu/remedy/medicine on the box/bottle/tub/tube/packet, upping my already vast water intake 10 fold and occasionally eating ice cream to make myself feel better. I try not to see people, as I'd hate to spread it and I generally have to tell everyone I see that I've got a cold and would rather not pass it on (is it not better to warn people and then be able to not get blamed, when they contract it? Plus I work with and know some people who are so health conscience and anal, that they'll run a mile and avoid you, if they witness you sneeze). Plus it also explains why I look like death warmed up and have dried, cracked skin all around my nose.
The one thing that annoys me most is, when everyone else I know has a cold, they have the luxury of loosing their scent of smell. I however do not, I have a pretty good sense of smell normally, so when I have a cold, I can still smell everything and I mean everything. I suppose this isn't a bad thing but when bad smells come on in, I can still smell them, I've never had the joy of saying 'Ha, I can't smell it due to my cold", although I shouldn't complain. About 2 years ago, I complained that I'd never lost my voice and had always had it, since my complaint, I've grown vocal nodes and now loose it, at the smallest quiff of a dry throat or a slight strain from shouting and I've lost a part of my range for good, well at least until/if my nodes ever go!
What's worse is that during this period, I've had a number of friends who have suffered colds and after a good nights sleep, been fine and got on with the world. So what is so defect about me and my immune system? Maybe it's my magnetic personallity that makes the cold/flu/illnesses hang about or my pure charm and wonderfully rose tinted views on the world or maybe it's my impaitence?! One person gave me the sound advice of: 2 cartons of Covent Garden Carrott and Coriander Soup, lots of Orange Juice, loads of sleep and pint after pint of water. Another advise loads of green veg, sleep, water and hot honey and lemon. Maybe I just need to master the art of my personal salvation from cold/flu/illnesses, who knows?!

What fun the seasonal change is, if nothing more it's entertaining.

My heart goes out to those of you with cold/flu/illnesses...keep your fluids up and get your head down for a nice little kip.