Alone in the cafeteria

Sartorial Elegance

2012-01-27T14:18:00.000Z

The chubby Little Mix'er girl is SO AMAZING and lover her SO FREAKING MUCH. (Despite having no idea what her name is apart from 'The Chubby One' or 'The Best One')

What is this outfit? (Apart from pure brilliance).
Cheetara hair? CHECK
PINK lipstick to better contrast fake bake tan? CHECK
Clothes she found in a dump outside the Tron Legacy film lot? CHECK

I'm not saying I want to do anything weird with her - just snuggle under a blanket together and stroke her face while she gives me tips on living life.

I could have so done with this column 5 or so years ago

2012-01-27T09:15:00.003Z

Just write “MURDER,” and then one minute later send a wink face.

Woah

2012-01-25T11:55:00.003Z

Both of these individuals are conventionally attractive so I look at this, and think back to every time a camera shot has caught me at an unflattering angle (which are the photos I spend most time obsessing over), and have decided that maybe those pictures are not representative and I'm not so bad after all.

(Though it's still debatable).

Exhausted

2012-01-25T11:48:00.002Z

How come it is only ever celebrities who are treated for exhaustion?

Have you ever known anyone that's had exhaustion that requires hospitalisation in 'real' life? I know/have known people with ME or CFS but that's not what they are being treated for, which, in my limited knowledge, are chronic conditions that last years rather than weeks and cannot be fixed by a quick spell in a clinic.

I'm genuinely curious as to what 'exhaustion' (the sort of exhaustion you need to go to hospital for) is like. In the case of Demi I can understand that going through a divorce is crazy stressful and I wouldn't have the arrogance to think I can understand her or her life, BUT, for instance, I have a full time job, volunteer for three different charities, have just started a counselling course, and try to maintain some semblance of a social life but if I went to a hospital and said 'I'm exhausted' (which sometimes I do feel), in the best case scenario they would say 'ok, go and get some rest then?' and then I'd say 'good idea' and go and do that.

I sometimes think my brain is too literal. I always tend to take people at face value and believe what they are telling me is true (which is how I get taken in by my boyf telling me 'Dr Pepper' is known as 'Dr Sel' in France "and isn't it weird they didn't call it 'Dr Poire'?") so that's probably why I'm struggling to understand this as it just seems like this word 'exhaustion' in this context is a signifier that everyone else understands and I don't, or a trick that is either fooling everyone or no one.

I guess what I'm asking is, how does the world work and how can understand that better? Anyone?

Career change

2012-01-25T09:29:00.000Z

I'm going be a psychic y'all! Because a free online test told me so!

Also, check the illustrious company I find myself in:

Clearly my personality type is: 'Total Baller'

I was a political prisoner

2012-01-19T22:39:00.001Z

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2012-01-12T16:18:00.000Z

Or: 'why the Princess/Prince Charming fantasy will only lead to crushing heartache and bitter disappointment, maybe it's better to aim for being a self-actualised adult instead of wishing for someone to save you from yourself?'

29 things that make me happy at the start of 2012

2012-01-01T21:38:00.001Z

leopard print
liquid eye liner
fairy lights
reading books
going to the cinema
videos of baby polar bear cub
my boyf's face
my boyf's chest
my boyf when I make him do a proper throw back his head and guffaw laugh
my boyf in general
this picture
red dog
black dog
my mum's rice pudding
tidying up
getting clean when I've not showered for a day (or more :/)
big tea (tea in a big mug)
writing
when my nephew sits in the crook of my arm and idly plays with my belly fat
listening to heavy rain (when its not being blown in the direction that makes it come in through my living room window)
painting pictures of women that you wouldn't normally see painted pictures of (Ethel Merman, Judi Dench, Elizabeth Moss)
being busy
doing nothing
thinking about what God means
going for big walks
being near the sea
crossing things off of to do lists
brightly coloured lipstick
being in love with someone amazing who is in love with me

Observation

2011-11-19T08:56:00.003Z

Don't you hate it when you have to go to one of the three volunteering jobs you have but all you really want to do is stay at home drawing twee pictures in the style of Virginia Frances Sterrett instead?

(Not sure I've quite got the hang of observational comedy yet?)

(Maybe this stuff works better if I'm stood against a brick wall with slap bass sountracking any interludes?)

(I also brushed my teeth before having breakfast so no orange juice for me because I am an idiot).

(Today is the worst).

'I don't find you annoying even a little bit'

2011-11-18T11:41:00.001Z

me: hihi

7:54 PM oiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

bing bong

bingbingbingbingbingbingbingbing

BONG

ding dong

dingdingdingdingdingdingding

DONG

7:55 PM DINGDONGDINGDONG

boooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

Workin' hard or hardly workin'?

2011-11-15T12:05:00.001Z

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Just chefing

2011-11-10T16:40:00.000Z

me: why is sugar suddenly gay????????????

Kieran: because your face

me: honey is WELL gayer than sugar

Kieran: I think the honey works well in this dish

me: ok

fine

but honey is DEFO gayer than sugar

Kieran: yeah probably

me: good

im glad we agree on this
otherwise mind=blown

Kieran: oh I forgot, I also put in a knob of butter on top of the olive oil

me: ok

(lolol knob)

Hmm

2011-11-04T12:19:00.004Z

Really struggling to work out how I feel about Peter Sarsgaard in short shorts.

Because on one hand, Peter Sarsgaard in short shorts! But on the other, Peter Sarsgaard in short shorts? You know? It's basically just the ol' "Peter Sarsgaard in short shorts" conundrum, something which has puzzled man since the dawn of time itself.

2011-11-04T10:43:00.000Z

My boyf's life mantra.

How to Win Friends and Influence People

2011-10-04T09:01:00.003+01:00

Not enough

2011-10-03T17:47:00.004+01:00

I loathe the idea of making someone feel like they are not enough. That they don't measure up. That they're stupid or fat or unworthy in some way. And I don't know if it's just that I'm waking up and noticing life's little injustices more and more or if this is a thing that's becoming more and more prevalent (or perhaps I'm just getting sensitive in my old age) but regardless; when I spot these things now I feel this deep burning rage that will not go away.

Flirting with people you have no interest in just to make yourself feel wanted? Not cool.

Making fun of someone for not having had an experience you've had? Not cool.

Making fun of someone for not having the same knowledge you do? Not cool.

How do we ever convince ourselves that it's ok to put someone else down to make ourselves feel good? I say this fully aware that I've done this. I can give you examples of when I've done this (there's probably many more times that I've forgotten about or was, even worse, oblivious to). Heck I'll probably do it again in future, but that doesn't mean it's okay or right.

As a general rule the harder path is the better path. In this particular instance that means making yourself feel good from within. It means choosing not to laugh at that girls outfit with your friends because of how much flesh she's showing. It means choosing not to think ill of the last girl your boyf slept with just because she spells it 'miss understood' (that may well be the hardest thing of all). It means choosing not to bitch about people because they're interested in football rather than theatre (or vice versa).

I know thoughts of this nature run through my head from a place of insecurity. There's nothing wrong with them per se but in no way am I better than another girl just because I don't spell words as they are written on albums by Pink. Viewing the world this way only makes things worse. I might sit there feeling smug and superior for being better at spelling but what does this achieve? This insecurity is something destructive. It's a thing we all have and use to grind one another down but nothing good comes out of it. Ever.

I'm also becoming more and more flummoxed by the idea that's there's only one proscribed type of beauty as I look around and see sexy, gorgeous, attractive people of all shapes and sizes and colours. I know this sounds glib but in particular seeing a cabaret show at the weekend with these fine figures of womanhood being sexy and funny on a stage in front of people made me realise that they weren't aspirational in terms of looks (and in fact I hate the whole 'fat vs thin' dichotomy - can we all not just accept our bodies as they are? Fat or thin or somewhere in between?) but attitude. They were comfortable in their own skin in a way not many people are. They weren't stood there going "I'm better than you because of how I look" they were just enjoying themselves and entertaining us. Dressed as grannies and lollipop ladies and matadors. Obviously. That attitude is what we need instead of letting fear and hurt and insecurity rule our actions. Individually let's just all agree how awesome we are and let that be enough. We can go off and do our own things safe in the knowledge that everyone's going to be supportive and friendly wherever we may turn. They might not agree or understand why we wear the things we wear, why we do the things we do, why we love the things we love but none of that matters. Because we all have our own looks and hobbies and passions. Those are the things we are fuelled by, not whether we're hotter or more intelligent or more cultured than anyone else.

Because if you're constantly walking around figuring out who you're better than then I can pretty much guarantee you're not better than anyone else at all.

PUH-LEASE

2011-09-30T17:44:00.003+01:00

You're telling me this affliction I am cursed with is a good thing????!!!

NO DICE.

(For example; I curl up in unwavering horror at the dancing I did on Saturday night - fuck fuck fuck I did un-ironic booty grinding fuck; shitting motherfucking shit I got all ganster when snoop dogg came on; jesus h christ I flailed around so much I made someones pint go spinning right out of their hands - I refuse to believe these feelings are 'good' and not just a reflection of what an absolute twat I am)

Yup.

2011-09-30T17:27:00.006+01:00

Last year, I was d-e-p-r-e-s-s-e-d. I had just been dumped by my stoner boyfriend (and then rebounded with a dude who asked, in all sincerity, if puppies were born live or hatched out of eggs).

Wish I didn't relate to this particular sentence quite as much as I do.

[also the article itself basically boils down to: always beware girls who wear thigh high socks and shorts to a dinner party. A-L-W-A-Y-S. And never go with a hippy to a second location. Has 30 Rock taught us nothing????]

"Come on, wok's wong?"

2011-09-30T17:27:00.001+01:00

*facepalm*

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What?

2011-09-22T11:20:00.004+01:00

Just looking through dozens and dozens of pictures from The Cosby Show. Why what are you doing?

Confessional

2011-09-22T11:14:00.003+01:00

Just sharing some normal human female thoughts with my boyf.

Fuck yeah I am

2011-09-15T10:32:00.003+01:00

This quiz is frighteningly accurate.

Yeah. That's right.

2011-09-13T17:25:00.002+01:00

I wouldn't say I like this picture more than I like pictures of pug puppies with their tongues hanging out; but I do like it a lot.

Earth, Fire, Water, Metal, Wood, Playdoh

2011-09-09T14:23:00.004+01:00

I love the Daily Mail (and by 'love' I mean 'hate with the fire of a thousand suns') but I'm starting to think pretty much everyone is hate-reading it (online at least). The comments for stories like this are uniformly hiwarwious. This is my favourite:

Although the worst thing is that I read that article and then spent FAR too long trying to figure out which face I have. Do I have 'long flat eyebrows'? ('Well, they're sort of flat against your face? What would a non-flat eyebrow look like? Bushy? Wiggly? WHAT?!!') Do I have 'large radiant eyes'? ('Well, they're eye-ish... how do we judge if they're radiant? Is it a synonym for shiny? Should I compare them to my dogs eyes since their dog food adverts are always going on about making their eyes shiny??') Do I have 'thin expressive eyebrows' ('I don't even know if they're flat let alone expressive!! HOW AM I TO JUDGE???').

Then I remembered my face is actually made from playdoh and went back to thinking about pug puppies.

Really happy with my new tattoo

2011-09-04T22:43:00.002+01:00

Phases of Grief

2011-09-04T10:18:00.004+01:00

I’ve been through all the phases of greif already: Sauvignon, Crying, Plane Crying - Plane Sauvignon, and Plane yelling.

Ahaha, yes. I was on a plane a couple of weeks ago and spent the one and half hours in flight gently weeping into my cardigan sleeve (I'd also decided it was a good idea to wear make up including liquid eyeliner that day - PROTIP: Never wear liquid eyeliner when feeling emotionally raw. I don't know how emo kids and MCR fans manage it!). I was sat next to this business man in his suit and tie who was rocking a pretty sweet moustache and think I completely ruined his day. Business men and men with moustaches are not built to withstand females gently weeping in seats next to them. They are just not equipped to deal with such things. So you can imagine when that Venn diagram intersects just how UNEQUIPPED this guy was to cope with my mild breakdown in front of him - in a situation where he was LITERALLY STRAPPED TO HIS SEAT AND UNABLE TO ESCAPE. I think maybe that encouraged me to keep crying just to ruin his day a little more? I'm a nice person like that.

Anyway, in those stages of grief I've gone through three of those five. Pretty proud of that. Need to work on the final two and I'll be golden.

upside-downdogs.com

2011-09-03T23:10:00.001+01:00

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They finally made a monkey out of me

2011-09-02T17:52:00.006+01:00

The Rise of the Planet of the Apes left me with some questions. Firstly, why didn't Frida Pinto ask how come Franco's chimp was so smart for 5 years? They've been going out for five years and she's been hanging out with him and his chimp all that time (which is defo what she said) and it's only five years later that things start to seem fishy enough that she starts asking questions. Like, she's been in his house in the last five years right? She's seen his papers on the wall and video cameras and test apparatus and shit right? And it never occurred to her to go 'what's all this about then?' Or like, 'hey you know you're dad had alzheimer's and now he doesn't? Yeah, that's weird isn't it? Any reasons for that? And while we're on the subject why is your chimp so freaking smart and that? And also why is he CGI and yet still a better actor than you Franco?'

Basically, after that point I couldn't really concentrate on the rest of the film because I was still hung up on how much Frida was willing to accept that chimps are *just that smart*. Because they are pretty smart but she's a vet and seemed to know a bit of chimp-related info when he first took Caesar to see her. *I* might be willing to accept it when people tell me that 'no one really knows why we itch' (note: they do. I was being played) but it's like if someone told me that and I was a dermatologist with a side interest in itching and I believed it then.

I also don't really understand who and what and why James Franco. James Franco as a person, as an actor, as a concept, confuses me. Is that the point James Franco? Why is your acting so natural in some things and so hokey in others? What is you? I seriously will never rest till I feel I have James Franco figured out.

Anyway, all that is just a longwinded way of saying I've had the 'Dr Zaius' song from the Simpsons stuck in my head for about 4 days now. Not bored of it yet.

2011-09-02T17:02:00.001+01:00

If anyone is going to teach me how to be a lady it is DEFO Paz de la Huerta.

(<3 her x billions)

Weird Love

2011-09-02T15:12:00.004+01:00

Being in a relationship is weird. I mean, it's not probably for you. You 'normals' who are well adjusted and didn't wait until you were 19 until you had your first proper kiss. But it's weird for me. For the person who has been eternally single for most of her adult life.

I say that and in other way, the way where I remove the 'relationships whaaat???' glasses, and put on the the 'just hanging out wid yo' shortie' glasses and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Like, this person, who is so much fun and so interesting to me -- I struggle to remember what life was like before him despite only having known him a few months. He's very quickly become my best friend. I can say anything (anything!) to him and it be okay. He doesn't squint and turn his head sideways or raise his eyebrow and sigh. He doesn't shake his head and change the subject. He just listens and responds and makes me feel like I'm not an insane person for the thoughts that run through my head (this works in the short term at calming me down but I do tend to always come back to the indisputable fact that I am actually an insane person for a large portion of day - though, in fairness, that portion of the day is diminishing with every passing week) (it's now more like 7 hours a day rather than 12 or 13).

I can share my thoughts about this all being a trick he's pulling on me - that he doesn't mean the words he says to me or writes about me. My thoughts about whether it's too coupley to sign a birthday card from us both and what other people will make of it. My thoughts regarding whether I'm a rubbish girl for not having a relationship timetable -

Him: '...and yeah this other girl at work, who's 22, was talking about how she and her boyfriend are moving in next year, then in two years they'll get married, a year after that they'll start a family'

Me: 'Oh. Wow.'

My brain: 'You're a rubbish female. You should have all this planned out already. You plan everything else out!'

Me to my brain: 'While those ideas as a general abstract are fine, and planning a holiday or a trip to the theatre is fine, when you start making me think I need this major life overhaul shizzle pinpointed down I start feeling like I'm going to have a panic attack'

My brain: 'AND THAT'S WHY YOU'RE RUBBISH AT BEING FEMALE'

Him: Everything all right? This work chat isn't boring you is it?

Me: Not exactly...

I know that there are plenty of people who have got my back should I ask for assistance but this guy has it without me ever having to ask. I feel like we're the most awesomest team I've ever been a part of (though in honesty, belonging to teams has never really been my strong point). I'm so content at the moment, I feel so comfortable and relaxed with myself and with him. And that's all a bit freaking weird.

It's sad that that's weird right?

True Romance

2011-08-31T14:37:00.003+01:00

Him: If you wanted to go to an Only Fools and Horses convention I would go with you (although I would hate very second of it and grow to resent you a little) xxxxx

[EDIT: In no way to be taken as representative of my boyfriend's usual caring and considerate attitude - e.g. making out he loves my dog more than me; etc and so forth - this just made me lol and is the sort of thing that makes me love him more and more each day. ALRIGHT JACKSON????]

WANT

2011-08-21T18:17:00.002+01:00

If in the next year I haven't stolen a baby or a dog I am going to be SO proud of myself.

I could do work

2011-08-18T15:24:00.011+01:00

Or I could google image search pictures of Angelica Huston and Jack Nicholson instead.

hells yes

fuck me guys (literally!)

gawd

seriously???

dayum gurl!

Important

2011-08-18T14:11:00.001+01:00

Most cool girls are totally fucked up because they are used to guys telling them they are "cool" or "funny" or "smart" and they assume it's a euphemism for "not hot" because they already feel like dudes with boobs. But that's okay because a hundred percent of cool guys are fucked up too and secretly feel like girls with dicks. Straight men are sooooooooo pink inside. They just can't tell you or anyone, because they have been socialized expressly not to. But I just told you you, and now everybody knows.

Spirit Animal

2011-08-16T11:06:00.003+01:00

This does not make me want to buy train tickets

2011-08-15T17:38:00.003+01:00

Reference five or more years out of date? Check.

Reference about teenage kids getting killed for doing a hit and run? Check.

Reference really fucking creepy and stalkerish even if you didn't know they were referencing I Know What You Did Last Summer? Check.

ALERT THE AUTHORITIES. WE HAVE STRUCK ADVERTISING GOLD.

Barbershizzle!

2011-08-09T19:30:00.001+01:00

I've never ever ever wanted to get married but now I kind of do so I can have Barbershizzle (barbershizzle!!) play the reception.

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dinner

2011-08-09T19:28:00.001+01:00

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'What's Alan Partridge doing on the screens?'

2011-08-07T21:41:00.002+01:00

Morrissey played this before his set at Hop Farm.

I want to go to there.

Alphabetty Spaghetti

2011-07-28T17:26:00.006+01:00

The Objective: Name, in sequence and in turn, a book title that begins with each letter of the alphabet.

The Contestants: Two, self-confessed, book nerds.

The Results: Poor.

Him: um... J... Is Jumanji a book? That's literally the only word I can think of that begins with J.

Me: No!! [Note: I was wrong]

Him: I don't know then.

Me: I've got one. JURASSIC PARK [Note: Whenever anyone asks me of movies that I'd recommend watching my mind oftentimes goes blank and all I can think of is Jurassic Park]

Him: Ok, Jurassic Park.

Him: Why are you laughing?

Me: I have thought of one for Q already.

Him: Go on then

Me: Question of Sport Annual 1998

Him: [Laughing] Fine. R. Rude Dog and the Dweebs Annual 1997.

Me. S. Sabrina the Teenage Witch Annual 2004.

Him: We can't keep just naming annuals as books. We've read actual books!

Me: I know. But I can't remember any books. I don't think I could name any books I've ever read ever at the moment.

Him: To be fair all I can think of is Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles Annual 1996 for 'T'.

Lana Turner has collapsed!

2011-07-25T17:40:00.005+01:00

Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up

- Frank O'Hara

I was in a Seville airport when I heard about Amy Winehouse's death. It was one of those things where you feel suddenly numb, then sad, then kind of ambivalent about it. Just running through those Kubler-Ross stages in a matter of minutes. I didn't know her, she didn't know me, far greater fucked up things go on, and it wasn't like she was a paragon of health and virtue so to say it was a 'surprise' is disingenuous at best.

But.

Oh that 'but'. Every now and then a song or a poem or a film or an essay or an entire album will just speak to you at the exact right time in your life on a level that doesn't operate on conscious thought or action or words. It will possess this greater meaning to you that; had you seen/read/watched it a few months earlier or three years later, it wouldn't have the same resonance. It explains things that are unexplainable, helps you sort through feelings you hadn't acknowledged until then, allows you to crack open and be connected to something greater than yourself. I would be willing to bet that most if not all people have had a relationship like the one Back to Black describes. Maybe with less of the moreish heroin and crack abuse forming it's central crux but one of those crazy, destructive, 'I hate you/I love you/I need you/piss off' relationships. Amy's pain and confusion and fucked-upness spoke to me like nothing else when I first heard that album. All of us feel pain and are confused and fucked-up to varying degrees in our twenties (and beyond one suspects) but she gave all that a beautiful, heartbreaking, soul chilling voice (topped off, no less, with a ridiculous beehive that I wish to this day I had the moxie to pull off).

I desperately hoped that Amy would find redemption rather than another hit off a crack pipe but that wasn't ever my call to make. Whatever her cause of death (and I may just be Saturn Returning here) I feel like this signifies the end of an era. The broken girl who sang her heart out for all the other broken girls is dead. Long live the broken girls.

Sugar

2011-07-15T08:20:00.006+01:00

If you read all of my columns they do boil down to some pretty essential truths. You hit on one of them when you said ‘the hard choice is often the best one,’ that life is both more simple and more complex than most of us would like to believe, that there is something about the essential, that we all have an essential truth within us which if we really listen to that, which is totally different than that bumper sticker ‘follow your bliss,’ which is bullshit. You know? And that’s, I have never read a self help book in my life. I think self help is pretty much bullshit. I don’t pay attention to this…what’s that Oprah book, like The Secret, or some sort of crap like that? ‘If you only believe, then it will be true,’ I think that’s a really aggressively entitled bullshit sort of approach to life’s complicated questions. And at the same time there’s a piece of that in Sugar that says ultimately we’re all responsible for our lives, we’re all going to fail, we all have something inside to offer, and our work here is to find out and express it in whatever channels are appropriate. So it’s not Sugar’s message, but it’s really just my life, everything I think about how to live, which is in opposition to that self help crap.

The problem with the term 'self-help' is that it has come to connote an easy solution or whatever; buy this book, follow these steps, your life will be perfect sort of thing. It does not and can not work like that. But in real terms the only way you can be helped is through helping yourself. No one else can make that decision and no one else can do the work. Which sort of sucks because sitting back and letting others take the reigns is waaaay easier. But I like and understand what Sugar has said here; life is much easier and yet more complex than we want to believe.

This life I've got going for me at the moment is so different from anything I've experienced before. I'm actually content for the most part. Like, I've had these fairly insane wobbles from time to time but I'll talk myself down or talk it through with the person I'm wobbling over or just plain ride it out. That's literally your only options in the first instance. I sit there wanting the feelings to just go away but they won't. They demand to be felt. After the talking or the riding (heh) then maybe a proactive choice can be made (like moving out frinstance) but change isn't something you do it's something that happens. And trying to force it changes nothing. You're in the same holding pattern just with a different view from your window. I sit here now feeling actually ok for the first time ever with a set of tools for working through the wobbles that everyone gets and I have to accept I always will get.

I look around at other people; particularly people who are going through a hard time themselves, and there's this weird feeling of I know so well what it's like to be there and I'm not there any more. I don't pity these people, I don't pretend to know how they need to solve their problems, it's just odd; looking at what they are going through. Knowing I was once in a place like that, knowing how difficult it was to pull myself through the river of shit in order to come out clean on the other side. Knowing that that's what they will have to do if they want things to get better. But it's also like, all this nice stuff - the living alone and my job I actually like and my volunteering that I love and my absolutely fan-fucking-tastic boyfriend (I hate girls - it's always invariably girls rather than boys or men or women - who go "I have the best boyfriend in the world" because I'm all "Number 1: no, please stop talking. Number 2: what you mean is he's a generically decent person right? He can't actually be the best boyfriend in the world. How is that even defined? Did he find the cure for AIDS? Broker a peace deal between Israel and Palestine? No? Then please see point 1" but, having said that, I have managed to snag the best person that I've come across so far for me. He's not perfect but his imperfections are peculiarly perfect when meshed with my imperfections) (also, that is what she said) - this is not stuff that's 'special' in any way and it's not like it was the ultimate goal. Not really. I don't even know what the ultimate goal was to begin with - to stop feeling like shit all the time maybe? To stop feeling empty and sad and disconnected. To stop feeling stuck. But in fact what I learned was to accept those things. To be alright with the fact that that's how things were, that that's how things needed to be in a sense. And with that, all of a sudden, I found myself feeling not shit, not empty, not sad, feeling connected to myself and the rest of the world. Feeling free, unstuck; feeling myself: unapologetically.

It sounds so easy when it's written down but it wasn't (and yet, like Sugar says, it kind of was easy in a weird way - I just needed to keep at it. But, in another way, it was so much more complicated than that makes it sound). It's such normal, boring things I have that are making me happy at the moment - loads of people have these things - but they were really difficult for me to get. Yet they happened incidentally from trying really hard, from looking at the dark sticky bits of my soul that I'd never wanted to examine before and not stopping when it got scary. Now I'm on the other side of that and though the temptation is there to run away from contentment I have to remember that what got me through the bad times is also what will get me through the good times: Standing up straight, looking everything in the eye, and not backing down from fear.

That place of true healing is a fierce place. It’s a giant place. It’s a place of monstrous beauty and endless dark and glimmering light. And you have to work really, really, really fucking hard to get there.

Nailed It

2011-07-04T00:44:00.001+01:00

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iggy take your cock out of your pocket

2011-07-02T20:38:00.001+01:00

And put it back in your pants

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johnny two hats

2011-07-02T20:32:00.001+01:00

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Look at this fucking hipster

2011-06-25T13:13:00.001+01:00

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Horder

2011-06-24T00:18:00.001+01:00

This is like, an eighth of what I own :(

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First World Problems

2011-06-23T18:57:00.003+01:00

I found a dress to go with that coat.

(I don't need pots and pans or food right? To live I mean. Sequin dresses and leopard print coats are all I need to live... AREN'T THEY?!)

This is what it is to be a girl

2011-06-17T20:16:00.001+01:00

It is literally exhausting.

Just Good Advice Really

2011-06-17T15:30:00.001+01:00

I wish pub toilet signs gave out MORE unsolicited advice:

'That dress does not go with those shoes'

'Are you really going to let her talk to you like that'

'It's clearly not working. Time to move on'

I, for one, need as much help as I can get. From whatever sources will provide it.

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Live Sazz nights

2011-06-17T15:03:00.001+01:00

You'd be surprised what a draw I can be.

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Correction

2011-06-15T14:25:00.002+01:00

The three year old: What are you doing Mummy?
Me: What did you call me?
The three year old: Mummy
Me: That's not my name! What's my name?
The three year old: Mummy and Daddy
Me: THAT'S not my name! What's my name??
The three year old: Mr Poopoo Head

I burn, I pine, I perish

2011-06-13T17:57:00.001+01:00

Spending one hundred new English pounds on a coat, in summer, just before I move and go see Prince at a festival and go on holiday is a really bad idea right? RIGHT?

"Oh baby, you know I want you too. I can't stop thinking about you and how good you'd feel inside of me."

SHUT UP COAT.

"Baby, don't be like that. Look at my deep-front pockets. You like that huh? Yeah? That turns you on right?"

Well, I guess... I mean... It's been so long since I looked at a coat the way I've looked at you.

"You know you and me are meant to be together. It's fate. Check out my bracelet-length sleeves. You know you love a bracelet length sleeve. We belong to each other. You think this is something that just happens every day?"

But what if my mum found out? She'd kill me.

"This is about you and me sugar. I got a shawl collar and I'm not afraid to use it"

*swoons*

MPD

2011-06-13T17:55:00.000+01:00

[via]
If there were a way of seeing each of my personalities as seperate entities I feel this shows exactly the faces they would be making at any given point on any given day.

Indie Sindy

2011-06-10T11:16:00.006+01:00

I am seriously in love HARRRRRDDD with Emma Stone (don't worry Bill Murray agrees with me).

Sample quote on her obsession with Farmville: “I got to level 42, and I wasn’t doing anything else anymore, so I had to stop.”

I've seen all her movies and LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE (yes! Even The House Bunny! That's actually very good! It's got women working together rather than against each other! Until they start turning against each other! But then they learn that working together is better and we should accept people as they are! And stuff!). I love that she sounds like she's a 40 year old woman that's been smoking 3 packs of Lucky Strikes a day for the last 20 years. I love that she's sarcastic and funny and pretty. I love that scene of her slowly growing to love the 'Pocket Full of Sunshine' song in Easy A ('I got a... I got a... I got a...') (we have all been there right? I have never related so much to any scene in any movie ever).

But MAN, if I can't stop thinking about that shoes and tights combo in her Elle picture.

That's literally all I'll be able to think about for dayssss (since you ask, I would team that with a short bright pink cocktail dress. Um, a bit like this one in fact). Polka dots on polka dots? SWOON.

Relatable

2011-06-10T11:09:00.002+01:00

"I always have, ever since I was a child. There are so many subtle variations of sensation. A delicate, pointed-nailed fifth finger can catch under dry scabs and flakes of mucous in the nostril and draw them out to be looked at, crumbled between fingers, and flicked to the floor in minute crusts. Or a heavier, determined forefinger can reach up and smear down-and-out the soft, resilient, elastic greenish-yellow smallish blobs of mucous, roll them round and jellylike between thumb and forefinger, and spread them on the undersurface of a desk or chair where they will harden into organic crusts. How many desks and chairs have I thus secretively befouled since childhood? Or sometimes there will be blood mingled with the mucous: in dry brown scabs, or bright sudden wet red on the finger that scraped too rudely the nasal membranes. God, what sexual satisfaction!"

Don't try and tell me Slyvia Plath didn't know how to party (though with this thesis it's best if we overlook the 'head in the oven' thing).

Moving update

2011-06-09T23:09:00.001+01:00

Bought a new hairdryer.

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Parenting Guru

2011-06-09T22:51:00.003+01:00

Her: Ben's snoring! Wudnt sleep in his own bed, is it me? Do I attract snorers?

Me: Clearly! Or all awesome people have a snoring weakness?

Her: Well I dont. Well not to that extreme. Hes giving u a run for ur money. Surely 6 is a bit young to b snoring?

Me: I think its ok? Maybe blocked sinus? Maybe you're too light at sleeping?

Her: Lol, I cant even begin to sleep

Me: Is he on his back or front?

Her: Back. He was starshaped so I had no room either. If I move him he goes straight on his back again. It is really loud and constant!

Me: He needs flipping over. Dont worry, he's a tired kid. He'll fall straight back to sleep again. Works on Tia all the time (children and dogs are basically the same yes?)

Her: Hahaha, ill try flippin him,hahahaha. fingers crossed.

Me: Lemme know how it goes!

Her: Hes flipped but went wrong way, now dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He's stopped tho, gona try go to sleep quick :) nite

I should start charging for this advice shizz.

Bee Brave

2011-06-09T14:12:00.003+01:00

Over the last month I have managed to coax five bees out of my room.

I think it's safe to say your little girl is growing up.

[Not that I didn't freak the fuck out EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. But still]

2011-06-06T14:24:00.002+01:00

Sometimes we relate to things in a way that's uncomfortably real and we don't quite know what to do with ourselves after reading them and decide instead that it's best to just post it here so we can look at it again later when we've sorted through our thougths a bit more.

Nineteen sleeps

2011-06-06T13:20:00.004+01:00

In just nineteen sleeps I will moving into my very own bachelorette pad. The way this came about was me having had perhaps the most emotionally taxing week of my life wherein I found myself as part of 'an item' ('but not change our relationship status on facebook item!'; romance isn't dead... Don't tell him this but I couldn't give a fuck what my facebook relationship status says or doesn't say, I just find it amusing that he does worry about it; 'ugh, and then people will 'like' it and stuff...'), breaking up with two different other guys FACE TO FACE as a result of this (which was horrible but the past-me would have just stopped taking their calls and answering their texts as a way of dealing with it so it also felt weirdly good?), having a job interview (which I didn't get), having both sets of parents fuck me over in wildly varying ways (as they are wont to do), having a mini breakdown by Thursday as a result of all this and then just deciding that I want to live by myself. Like, literally, the thought ran through my head; 'I want to live by myself', and then I found myself on rightmove, found myself phoning letting agents and landlords, was viewing properties on the Friday and had signed stuff and paid agency fees and deposits on Saturday.

It all seemed rather sudden and yet has been a long time coming.

I've got this idea that I'll spend my days baking recipes from the Guardian whilst listening to Chopin, or while away hours bogling to Aswad (in reality more like DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince) in my bedroom mirror, that I'll sew quilts with 1950's musicals or 1930's screwball comedies playing in the background. It all seems rather idyllic (which is how you know I probably won't end up doing any of these things after all). But I have been making lists of what I'll need (in pencil of course in case I make mistakes because there's nothing worse than an ill-thought out list with scribbles and what not; that aren't there because you've got a legitimate reason to cross these things off and just look messy rather than complete). But despite the lists (sweet sweeeet listszzz) I've not really been checking anything off. Like, do I know what the council tax band is? Do I fuck. Have I told my bank I'm moving yet? Have I set up internet or utilities for my new place yet? Um, no. I'm incredibly blase about it all. In part because I don't know what the timetable for setting these things up should be. I've no point of reference as whenever I've rented before I've looked lovingly into the eyes of the person I'm living with and fluttered my eyelashes and gone 'do what huh?' and then they've sighed and sorted stuff out for me (protip: this works disturbingly well on males and females whether you are sleeping with them or not. Always). In fact, the only (somewhat) useful thing I've done thus far is purchase a mp3 speaker dock (for listening to the Chopin in the kitchen) and a book called 'Modern Vintage Style' which is going to come in very handy for when I have no money for food because I've spent it all on retro looking throw cushions.

Despite the fact I'm clearly struggling to be an adult of any worth I'm really looking forward to this little adventure in home alone style living. By which I mean I'll be setting up elaborate traps using mannequins and ingenuity to catch any burglars that happen upon my new second floor one bed abode by the seaside. Wish me luck.

2011-06-03T15:08:00.000+01:00

“Woman, lovely woman, ah, where and what is she in the fateful hours when the cards are being stacked and the cunning old players are reckoning up their possible points? The women folks are allowed and urged to vote. Each side adores their votes and woman suffrage more than the other. Is voting all they have to do? Is a national convention, after all, a lodge meeting where women are admitted to the public entertainment but can have no hand in the business, which is transacted in rooms carefully protected from feminine visitors? Is politics a game of skill which politicians, for all their flatteries and fine words, don’t think women fit to play? Are women welcome only in the election booth, but excluded from the arcane councils where the men they are to vote for are named? What sort of equality of sexes is this? The women have the show, the men the substance."

RETCH.

WHO ARE YOU???

2011-06-02T12:26:00.003+01:00

And will you marry me?

Happy Birthday Ms Movie Star

2011-06-02T12:12:00.005+01:00

I could look at these all day

"Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition."

Word.

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."

Word.

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

Word.

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring."

Word.

"This life is what you make it. No matter what, you're going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you're going to mess it up. Girls will be your friends - they'll act like it anyway. But just remember, some come, some go. The ones that stay with you through everything - they're your true best friends. Don't let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world. As for lovers, well, they'll come and go too. And babe, I hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can't give up because if you give up, you'll never find your soul mate. You'll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don't, then who will, sweetie? So keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about."

WORD.

Are you shitting me?

2011-05-28T01:01:00.002+01:00

How people find this blog.

The thing is.

2011-05-26T00:33:00.003+01:00

I am not what you might call, a direct person. I speak big about being honest and open and shit but speaking and actually doing are quite different. Firstly, it's not something I was taught how to do. In my family we never discuss the thing, we discuss everything around the thing but never the thing itself. We passive aggressively make references to the thing ('yes, well, if you don't know why I'm talking like this then there's no point in me talking at all'), or bring the thing into the room at points where it resolutely cannot be discussed (e.g. 'THING!!! Could you pass me the gravy please grandma?') but being upfront and honest does not come naturally or easily to me or anyone in my family. Over the last couple of yeas I have, almost from scratch, had to teach myself (with help from therapy) how to feel feelings (which is intrinsically bound with confronting the thing in a healthy and communicative way). Which is crazy right?! I mena, it's not that I've been some kind of robot-humanoid sent back from the future to kill John Connor (or whatevs) but feeling feelings was not something I was very good at. I knew they existed but I sort of hid from them or pretended like I couldn't see them or just pushed them down and down to make nice balls of stomach cancer. Now I'm able to go 'yeah! the thing! see the thing! look at the shape and texture of it! the thing makes me angry!/sad!/etc!' This is better. The only way to stop whatever negativity is plaguing you is to really sit in it, and let it in, and let it take you over until you know it intimately. It's like, by doing that you release the pressure valve or take away it's power or something. Some kind of ineffable alchemy occurs in a way that eventually, eventually make it better (BUT FUCK KNOWS HOW LONG IT'LL TAKE). The easiest option is of course to run and hide so I've always done that instead. Never being honest, not being real. The crazy part is: turning around and surrendering yourself to the scary feelings that are chasing you is actually much much easier. Maybe not in the short term, but a prolonged bout of neurotic anxiety compared to a short burst of 'FUUUUCK. OW. SHIT. Huh. Oh yeah. I am brave and good after all' is less stressful, ultimately less painful, and wastes so much less time.

But once you accept that as a 'capital 't', "Truth"' you have to be aware of it all the fucking time. It means treating yourself with enough respect to let yourself feel shit because you know that's what you deserve because you're you and you're awesome and you're brave and you are good. This is maybe the harder bit. Living with the enlightenment (if I might be so bold as to call it that). Putting theory into practice. Making choices that are right. Making sure you do the right thing by others as well. Confronting, not only your negative feelings, but not protecting people from their negative feelings either (being open and honest means sometimes being open and honest about shit that you know people would rather not hear). It is not your job to protect anyone from the bad stuff. If anything, by doing that you're painting yourself as some sort of Messianic figure who decides what you will allow people to handle or not handle. Which is patronizing and robs people of their ability to think and act for themselves. (Who the fuck am I to decide what you can or cannot handle?!).

Anyway, the last couple of days I've had to do things I would rather not do and say things I'd rather not say to people's faces. But I did it because it was right. I can do things that are right now, for the right reasons. This is progress like you wouldn't believe. As a result, I get to relax a bit as I think elsewhere something special and good is happening to me, to my life, and with people in my life at the moment. It's nice. But it feels earned, and that's what makes it all the sweeter.

Pimento

2011-05-19T14:57:00.003+01:00

This has made me really really happy.

I mean the post itself is great, sure. Anytime I get the 'Sabrina the Teenage Witch' or 'Two of a Kind' memory boxes lit up in my head it is a good day (which is interesting because for so long that period of my life was all wrapped up in angst and emo tummy feelings but now I think 'aww ne ne, I miss Napster and AOL chatrooms and Nickelodean when Simon Amstell was a presenter'). But jeez louise, the comments. THE COMMENTS ARE JUST... there are people who ACTUALLY REMEMBER with their MINDS that Teen Angel died because he ate an old hamburger that he found under his friends bed. The other thing I mainly recall from that show is that God's cousin 'Rod' (aka Shepherd from Firefly) and aforementioned Teen Angel (WHO I CRUSHED ON AND CRUSHED ON HARD) discussing something about olives and pimentos. I didn't even know what the flip they were chatting about at the time but now, whenever I see olives and pimentos, I think of Teen Angel.

(This is just in case you offer me olives stuffed with pimentos and instead of answering 'yes please!' I go into a silent wistful reverie. I will be thinking about a scene from a defunct teen sitcom that about 5 people in the UK watched where Ron Glass and a guy who ate an old hamburger and died - LOLS AHOY - are talking about stuff that I didn't really understand about when I first watched it. In case you were wondering.*)

*Normal. Completely normal.

'Cheese Misanthrope'

2011-05-19T09:44:00.002+01:00

That's what somebody typed into a search engine and ended up finding my blog. YES. CORRECT. HELLO. You have definitely DEFINITELY come to the right place. Please, make yourself at home and help yourself to the manchego and general dislike of humanity. There's plenty here to go around for all.

spirit animal

2011-05-17T09:44:00.005+01:00

(EDIT: This was my 400th post!! 'Happy 400th post blog!! Here's a picture of a puppy wearing a pink jumper and sunglasses for you!' - me. 'Um... Thanks?' - blog)

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2011-05-17T09:44:00.004+01:00

Nothing real or truthful makes its way to TV unless you are smart and know how to sneak it in, and I would tell you how I did it, but then I would have to kill you.

I love everything about this. Except for the fact that it's sort of indicative about how much the world SUCKS.

mobile phone

2011-04-02T14:07:00.001+01:00

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Embarrassment Calling

2011-03-28T22:23:00.003+01:00

Oh hi, yep it's me again. Haven't seen you for a while have I Sazz? Well, yeah, no I know, I'm always keeping tabs on you of course haha! But err... yeah, just wanted to say that you seemed to be looking quite comfortable last night at that comedy gig. Seemed to have relaxed even though you were at a table at the front (oh my gosh, those tables were a nice touch - sort of looked like a cabaret in a cafe, I liked it!) Anyway, yeah, just wanted to make sure you knew I still existed which is why I ensured you were the only one shouting 'YES!!' when the comedian asked if anyone in the audience was single. You weren't the only single person in the audience obviously but just needed to ensure you were the only one who was made an example of. Hope you don't mind!

Anywho must dash. I will see you soon! Though I won't obviously be revealing when! Like to keep it all a big giant surprise so it's more fun! Love you lots kisskiss

easy tiger

2011-03-04T00:07:00.001Z

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2011-03-03T22:49:00.004Z

In the week leading up to seeing Jon Richardson in stand up I was imagining him telling us, the audience, that he now had a girlfriend and everyone would go 'aww' or 'yay' or whatever, make positive noises and that, except for me who'd quietly say 'boo' and he'd go 'did someone just boo me for saying I had a girlfriend?!' and I'd go 'I was saying boo-urns' and no one would understand my reference and it'd get really quiet and awkward.

Dispatched in 1 to 2 weeks? But I want it now!

2011-03-03T22:46:00.002Z

Crusha

2011-02-05T23:14:00.003Z

It's been ages since I had a gay man crush but I developed an overwhelmingly potent one today. The thing about gay man crushes, that you must understand, is that - unlike straight man crushes - they are not based on sexual attraction but something (that I believe) to be much deeper and more interesting. Like a girl crush it's not about thinking they're petty (though if they are extremely pretty this certainly helps the crush along) but falls somewhere between wanting to be them and wanting them to braid your hair and talk about boys for hours on end (e.g. would you do Colin Farrell even with the stigma of doing Colin Farrell? Has Phillip Glenister been hiding this delicious torso all along or is it something he's worked on solely for the 'Mad Dogs' adverts? Omg just how delightful is Ryan Gosling?? (clue: very!)). Anyway, his name is Liam, he works in Body Shop and he gave me a shit load of free samples and he's SUPERCUTE. And I want him to be my gay boyfriend and I don't know how to make that happen? When I was 14 (to about 19 *cough*) and I used to get shopcrushes (gay and straight and girl) I used to hang around until they acknowledged my existence. Which has only worked so far on my current bestie and that's because I managed to wangle a job at her shop so she was forced to confront the reality of my existence. I'm not sure this tactic will ever work again as I don't really have time to get a job at Body Shop given all the cross stitch I have to do. All I know is I need Liam to braid my hair soon. OR I WILL DIE.

I also said at dinner with my folks (which inc. bestie) that it would make it a whole lot easier for me if we were both gay cos then I wouldn't have to bother with finding an actual boyfriend and she was all 'hmm. Yeah, well I'm not' and I was 'I know!' but secretly I was thinking 'I know! Thank god!' cos that bitch is CRAZY high maintenance. So, I don't even know why I said it in the first place. But I did. And then I was burned cos she threw it back in my face. I expect she was probably also thinking 'hmm. Yeah well I'm not... cos you Sazz are CRAZY high maintenance'.

And she would not be wrong.

Would y'all think I was serious?

2011-02-03T20:57:00.005Z

Me: Sorry I can't make that meeting, I was going to take the day off as it's my best mate's birthday. I hope that's ok?

My boss: Yes it's fine Sarah I just thought it would be good for them to meet you and put a face to the name but it's not essential.

Me: Maybe you can take a cardboard cutout of me instead??

My boss: That's a great idea!

[Two weeks later]

My boss: I've been thinking about that cardboard cutout idea of yours and I'm going to get photos taken of you all at the next team meeting so we can go ahead with it. I think it would be great for any events you lot can't attend. We could make it so your hands are holding your business cards.

Me: ...

(Just to be clear SHE IS NOT JOKING)

Question!

2011-02-03T20:50:00.003Z

If I took photos of myself in all my different outfits (and permutations thereof) so I could feel a bit like Cher from Clueless would that be a non-crazy thing to do or the opposite?

Could I spin it as a Cindy Sherman-meets-Cher-from-Clueless art project????

(Also I may have already started...)

Worry

2011-02-03T20:44:00.004Z

I've developed this phobia that someone is going to poke out my eyeballs (or poke IN my eyeballs) and I'm not sure why?? The only thing I can think is that it's because since Christmas I've been working on becoming the Whedon complete-ist that my heart knows me to be (so have acquired and consumed Firefly and Dollhouse, and am working through Angel which is on Horror channel at 8pm every week night which I never saw all of because I was left so distraught about Doyle's death. Which, stupid because Angel is awesome-o 3000) and one of the overwhelming memories I have from Buffy is Nathan Fillion squashing in Xander's eyeballs so I asked my brother the nuclear physicist why doing that would make you blind and he said something about your eyes being like a grape so what happens when you squash a grape? And I said, it makes you not be able to see out of your grape eyes? And he said, yeah. Exactly. And now that's all I can think about and I'm pretty sure someone is going to do that to me.

Communication is key

2011-01-26T21:36:00.003Z

My hairdresser has what I would call 'boundary issues' when it comes to my hair. When I decided to quit being bleached blonde because my hair was literally falling out of my skull in clumps (literally!) he was all 'ugh' and 'omg I hate it now' (after it'd been dyed back to auburn) (which. wow. You did it and I'm paying you like £80 for the privilege!) but I still love him because he's camp as fuck and has three children and is younger than me and all he talks about is his children and Twilight (I now know the entire plot of Twilight from being told the entire plot every eight weeks for months and months).

So. Last time I went in I asked for a fringe because I didn't feel weird enough just having 'normal' longish hair (I want my outsides to look as weird as I feel on the insides #teenangstyou'rewaytoooldfor) and I thought a short fringe would help with that issue. Anyway, I knew he would be weird about it. Because of the aforementioned boundary issues (that I still don't get because I PAY him to do my hair and then I'm the one that walks about with my hair on my head. He doesn't have to walk anywhere with my hair on his head! Unless he really wants to do that and saves up my hair cuttings to make a special sazzle wig but I think that oversteps the boundary from 'issue' into 'full blown psychotic episode' so hopefully he doesn't do that.)

Anyway. I walk in all fired up and after he asks the obligatory 'so what are we doing today' question I just lay my cards on the table 'I want a short fringe' and he makes this horrified face like he's just bitten into a lemon or has heard Lindsey Lohan is releasing a post-rehab album (in truth that's how I sold him on changing my hair colour from blonde to red 'I want to be less rehab Lohan and more Mean Girls Lohan' and he did visibly relax on hearing it after his near panic attack when I first broached the subject 'ohmigod, I knew you were gonna come in today and want to stop being blonde' [hyperventilating] 'I just knew it!'). Which is when I pulled the ace from my sleeve;

'like Katy Perry?' [show pre-prepared picture]

'ohmigod I love her fringe!' [visible sigh of relief. From us both]

Boom goes the dynamite.

In summary I can speak two languages really well. Camp gay man and under-8 year old. Which don't really have a lot in common but if you need help communicating with natives from either of these groups then I can be hired as an interpreter.

Love Quest '11

2011-01-26T21:08:00.003Z

I am seriously considering joining some kind of internet dating service (you know, now that I'm less mental and might actually be able to date again and everything) so have been thinking about what sort of things I'd include in my profile to give people a 'flava' of who I am. So far under 'likes' I've got:

'le petit trains*, dinosaur pasta shapes (yum!), general dinosaur-based entertainment (bonus if has Jeff Goldblum or Hannah from S Club involvement), Liza Minelli's eyes when she sings, esoteric Simpsons references, how my brain tricks me into thinking I can speak French when I watch films with subtitles ("I understood nearly all of that!"), unicorns, cross stitching pictures of unicorns'

None of this makes me sound too weird does it?

*which I amused myself so much with I had to also add it to my facebook profile. I have not logged in for ever but did so for the express purpose of doing that. And I read it back to myself and I laughed really hard because I am so funny.**

** as I did again with this little aside.

Semi precious

2011-01-23T21:19:00.001Z

Just like me

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I've heard of having a ladder in your tights

2011-01-23T21:15:00.001Z

But never a fork.

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As if I didn't have enough to fret about...

2011-01-23T21:13:00.001Z

Now I've got to wait for the black feathers to start sprouting from my back

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This is what I like to call...

2010-12-21T20:51:00.001Z

... my 'pulling outfit'.

(And that in itself may go some way to explaining my singleton status).

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Nativity

2010-12-20T21:55:00.001Z

Think this might be my favourite cardboard-backed painted donkey ever? Top 5 at least.

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Seasons Greetings

2010-12-18T22:38:00.002Z

'Next time, I'll do it properly.'

Every year, without fail, I will say this to myself a number of times. About a variety of different things; losing weight, writing blog posts, personal grooming and hygiene, actually working on shit instead of establishing increasingly elaborate procrastination rituals designed purely to keep myself from actually completing anything ever and then producing mild panic attacks as deadlines loom and work remains unfinished. You know, the yoosch. This year however, this was going to be the year I actually made Christmas cards. I really love the idea of making cards because it sort of eliminates the pathetic needlessness of picking up a pack of 25 cards of various cute animals in santa hats for £1.25 from BHS and then writing 'to blah, merry xmas, love sazz xx' in each of them.

To make this yuletide ritual have even a semblance of meaning there's two options, either:

- Write long flowery, heartfelt messages of goodwill to you nearest and dearest in the cards that cost less than the money you spent on parking to go buy the cards in the first place. Taking the time to construct personal messages that have inherent meaning for yourself and the recipient (I mean, above and beyond the transcendental meaning of 'merry xmas lol'). Err, yeah. Likely.

- Spend the time making a card with glitter and pritt stick and little sticky silver holly type shit which is obviously wicked fun and feeds your desire to become as rosy of cheek and full of cheer as Kirstie Allsopp with all the craft shit that a person who owns cat pajamas (such as yourself) enjoys no end giving, as it does, a shortcut to zanyness without actually having to develop or maintain a personality. But also, look what my (non-cat pajama owning, actual personality having) friend made me*:

I want to tailor make people cards!

But did I tailor make any cards?

No.

Next time, I'll do it properly.

*2010 seems to have been the year when my Brabra obsession went from 'significant' to 'unhealthy'. I cannot explain why. No, I can, it's because she's fabulous and she normally gets to make out with crazy hot guys in her movies. I cannot explain why now except to say that the relaxing feeling I get from watching her on screen is the same sort of thing I used to get from 'chick flicks' (arguably Brabra films are still in the chick flick category but they are objectively better because they have Brabra in them) and maybe this means I'm growing up? I haven't seen a Katherine Heigl film in MONTHS**.

**Previous to this, I've probably seen 27 Dresses more times than I've watched the 6 o'clock news beginning to end.

Trying Harder

2010-11-14T15:33:00.005Z

I went to see my friend yesterday and we went to her local comedy club but made the WORST POSSIBLE mistake of arriving late (so already attention was thrown our way) at the comedy gig and then were forced to sit on the (otherwise empty) front row. Which lead to us being singled out for comedian/audience interaction that I would usually rather be waterboarded than have to endure. When asked what I do for fun I said 'cross stitch' and when asked what I've been cross stitching lately I said 'unicorns' (because it is true and it is literally the only thing I think about or want to talk about)
Comedian: What about you? [indicating my friend]
Friend: I can't compete with cross stitching unicorns.
Comedian: You can't compete with cross stitching unicorns??! TRY HARDER!!

2010-11-07T00:32:00.001Z

Every now and then I'll be reminded that there was an episode of Neighbours devoted to Bounder's dream and I'll be all 'LOL, wut?' and then laugh uncontrollably for about 10 minutes or so.

Happens WAY more often than you'd think.

2010-10-10T20:36:00.002+01:00

Why was Storm surrounded by people dressed as Greendale’s mascot? Is Louis a Community fan?

Bday

2010-10-03T19:46:00.003+01:00

Twenty-eight. That's my age now THANK GOD. You know how it's been scientifically proven that 27 just has a 'bad vibe' to it and 28 is like, WAY better ('vibes' wise)? Well, yeah. That. Things we have to accept:

Nowadays I'd much rather have a cup of tea and a sit down than go clubbing.
Especially when it's raining.
Especially when it's raining like it's the End of Days.
Especially when I could be having a cup of tea and a sit down instead.
But if you're made to leave your dry hotel/classy weekend apartment (hells yeah I did) then watching a man in a checked shirt ('checked shirt man') have an increasingly awful night because his woman be bringing DRAMA to his life will be pretty entertaining and also incredibly depressing (like an episode of Jersey Shore I guess?).
I need to wear more sensible shoes if I'm going to walk around a lot.
The blond thing was... achieved but thank fuck it's gone and I don't appear to be losing my overly bleached and distressed hair no more.
Anyone I see in a play I will end up falling in love with (even if it's Andy Nyman and Nicholas Burns)
(ESPECIALY if it's Andy Nyman and Nicolas Burns)
(I dunno do I? I am only human)
Bday's can actually be pretty cool beans

The carefree unconsidered way my bestie lives his life gives me panic attacks.

2010-09-20T20:26:00.000+01:00

Last weekend he decided he was gonna start carying his keys on his fingers (‘finger keys!’) instead of in his pocket because why? (I don’t know why) and then lost them (a shock I know). Then got back to his house at 4am and couldn’t get in so called his MUCH MUCH more forgiving friend who came got him and found him a 24 hour Macdonalds (I would have left him there let alone foraged FOOD for him). If anyone else told me that story I’d be all ‘oh god, that’s awful!’ but with him it’s basically expected. I’m more surprised that stuff like this doesn’t happen more often.

Like the Murphy's

2010-09-19T12:20:00.005+01:00

I had a fight with my bestie on the way home from the pub yesterday (at 6pm) (YUP that is how we ROLL). It started off funny and then got a bit more serious. He was talking about not wanting his crush object to know he was snogging some other dude in his car for two hours with the lights on and that's why his car's battery died (side note: lols)
I was all 'you shouldn't have to hide parts of yourself to make people have a different view of you from who you actually are'
and he was all 'no. yeah. I should. And OH YEAH like I want to take advice from someone who's made a career out of being bitter and single'
'I'm giving you the wealth of my knowledge and experience!'
'Knowledge and experience of being SINGLE. AND. BITTER!'

And then we stopped talking and were silent for the rest of the way home.

I love him completely and secretly think a lot (but never say out loud) about how he is my soul mate; the one other person on earth who compliments me completely. We're exactly the same in the exact right ways and exactly different in the exact right ways, but every now and then that Venn diagram of perfection intersects at such a point that we drive each other crazy. Me thinking I know everything, him calling me on it.

Also I'm now fretting that I am actually bitter (I had realised already that I am single as the only spooning I get is from my dog and she only ever wants to be little spoon) when I didn't think I was anymore.

Red dog just pooed on a stinging nettle

2010-08-19T20:27:00.000+01:00

Which was fun for me having to dive in (with a bag round my hand) and pick it up. If it were me and the choice was between pooing on a stinging nettle or positioning my bottom 3 cm to the left of the stinging nettle and going on some grass I’d probably go for the latter option.

But then it’s rarely a choice I have to make.

Buggin'

2010-08-19T20:23:00.004+01:00

So my bro comes home the other day to chillax from all the nerding out he's been doing for his Nerd MSc-ing (or like 'physics' if you want to call it by it's proper name) (actually if you want to call it by it's proper name then you'll have to ask him cos I don't flipping know) and he tells me this story about the people who live in his halls that has actually been keeping me awake at night.

Get this: Two (boyf and girlf) TWO! of them! Wash up dishes (acceptable) and then put the dishes away WET (unacceptable). TWO OF THEM! Two human beings think this is a good idea! To wash dishes and then immediately put those dishes back in the cupboard without even allowing them to drip dry first! They do this! All the time!

W-H-A-T T-H-E F-L-I-P?????

I don't... I can't... On every level this baffles me. Utterly baffles me. So first off, who in their right mind (someone of a university educated level lest we forget) doesn't at some point go 'hang on, it might be better if these items are dry next time I want to use them' and then, from that point take a fanciful leap of imagination and go 'maybe stacking these items in the cupboard is not the best way of ensuring their dryness next time I want to use them' and then power walk (in their mind) to the conclusion with all the flashing lights and giant neon arrow that's pointing towards a sign saying 'WASH UP, THEN DRY UP, THEN PUT AWAY'.

But, ok. Let's say this person, when they were little, their dad left their mum. Their mum became a total wreck. This person (who was, lest we forget, preciously young at the time) thought 'I want to do something to help mummy' and because the house was a bit of a mess as mum desperately tried to hold things together and failed, and they were still a bit too small to use the hoover, didn't really understand what the dust cloth was for, they thought 'I'll do the washing up for mummy'. And then they dragged the big blue box from the playroom into the kitchen and stood on it and did the best job they could; scrubbing away at pots and pans, swooping the dishcloth over the plates and watching the muck dissolve into the bubbles. Finally the kitchen, whilst not spotless, started to look more like it had when mummy and daddy were still living in the same house. And because this child was so young they then assumed that because these things were clean they could immediately go back in the cupboards so even though they weren't sure of where things lived they put everything away. Mummy came downstairs after her nap (third of the day and it was still only 3pm) and looked at the kitchen in amazement 'I can't believe you did this!' she exclaimed as a dawning realisation that she had to do better for the both of them, had to stop feeling sorry for herself, started to kick in. 'This is amazing!*'. This person had never seen their mum look so happy and sad at the same time. They knew they'd done some momentous. It was a landmark moment in both their lives. And because of this she never mentioned that you're supposed to dry the dishes before putting them away. Even as time went on and this person would sometimes help out after their mum had cooked a delicious meal for everyone and still continued to wash-but-not-dry, their mum never said anything as it reminded her of that cold day in April when she'd walked into the kitchen and been kicked into getting her life back togther. It had meant she was ready and willing to accept love from Mr Barfield three years later and had never been happier since.

THAT IS THE ONLY ACCEPTABLE REASON NO ONE HAD EVER THOUGHT TO MENTION IT'S STUPID TO WASH BUT NOT DRY YOUR DISHES. THE ONLY ONE. But there's two people doing this. TWO! So you would have thought one person would have mentioned to the other 'this really isn't how you're supposed to do this'. But they haven't! SO I JUST DON'T GET IT. I hate when I don't get stuff. It bugs me. I'm totally buggin' right now because of this.

*My mum would have been 'what the fuck have you done??!'**
**This is a woman who lost her shit because I put a teabag and a teaspoon of coffee into the same mug cos I wanted to see what that tasted like*** 'WHAT A WASTE! WHAT A WASTE OF MONEY!' she screamed when I told her what I'd done which I still don't really get cos a) I drank it and b) it was a teabag or a teaspoon of coffee extraneously used. Not like I'd poured diamonds down the drain.
*** Gross fyi

2010-08-18T20:31:00.000+01:00

The internets wins again →

2010-08-18T20:28:00.000+01:00

This looks ok I guess but is it going to be anywhere near as good as Centre Stage? Unlikely. Sandy Cohen as a famous dance teacher? Edgy modern-jazz stories featuring motorbikes and set to a Jamiroquai soundtrack? That’s art people. Serious fuckin arrrrrrrt.

Oh hi!

2010-08-18T20:04:00.003+01:00

Didn't see you there. Didn't see you there for months and months in fact! How the devil have you been? Quite bloggy? You look like you've been quite bloggy. Oh my hair? Yeah I had it and coloured red. Thanks, I like it much better too. I always felt like a bit of a fraud with the blond truth be told. And also my hair started falling out so I was trailing around after myself picking up clumps of stringy blond hair from the floor which is not as fun as it sounds really. Although my great uncle said 'gentlemen prefer blondes' when no-one had even asked his fucking opinion but what would fuel my rage blackouts if not careless insensitive unwanted comments from family members? Yeah, I know right? And without rage blackouts I'm basically nothing. I mean, you get it so.

Speaking of insenstive careless commenting family members have you seen 'Grandma's House'? Right! Sooo funny. My mum freaking loves it but is now pretty perplexed as to why I haven't written and had a sitcom commissioned as I 'clearly have much more material to work from'. Can't really argue with her on that one.

Oh and did you know that Dave +1 is called Dave ja vu? I'm basically telling as many people as I can as I think it's the greatest/worst thing ever. Also I'm not sure why it took until yesterday when I was idly channel surfing and landed on an old QI that I found out. Why isn't that being written by planes in the sky and where are all the billboards announcing it you know? Yeah, exactly. Shit like this is WAY importante.

Anyway, must dash. Mwah mwah.

2010-07-06T20:44:00.000+01:00

Juxtaposition WIN.

Dating tips

2010-06-27T23:55:00.003+01:00

I absolutely adore ('not adore') the MSN 'dating' section. It pops up on the 'Today' screen whenever I log in to MSN (which is often. LOL @ people who think I no longer login to MSN - I'm totes there, lurking*, I just set myself to 'offline' because I'm no better at polite conversation online than I am in 'real' life. God I used to be SUCH an MSN whore I sometimes think my soul was removed at some point in the last four years and replaced by someone completely different who had all my memories implanted and THINKS they're still 'me' but actually they're someone completely different**) and it has loads ('not loads') of useful tips on how to stop being single, find a boyfriend, stop being so fat, find a boyfriend, etc (as we all know your worth as a woman is measured entirely in how many men you can make want to sleep with you). Today's hints and tips can be found here and are, as ever, completely revelatory and mind-blowing. In that they will blow your mind because of how, after reading these tips, you will want to take a gun to your head and pull the trigger.

In case you have not are unable to understand the concept of 'hyperlinking' (maybe you were raised in a cave by wolves, or are from Gosport - basically the same thing - or maybe you are from the future and have uncovered this corner of the webosphere in what counts as archaeology these future days) I will recreate the headlines for you:

1. 45-minute showers (as in 'don't')
2. Spoilt pets (as in 'don't')
3. "Casual Sunday" (as in 'don't')
4. All TV, all the time (as in 'don't')
5. Biscuits in bed (as in 'don't')
6. Aimless whistling (as in 'don't')
7. Lack of matching crockery (as in 'don't')

Let me just take a second to remind you that this list is 100% fo' realz. Not a parody of stupid obvious vapid lists that the media are satuarated with, it's sincerely a stupid obvious vapid list that the media is satuarated with. I can boil this down further into 'don't be such a fucking annoying slob lard-o'. Which is good advice I guess (because of course no-one who is a fucking annoying slobby ol' lard-o is in a relationship. Onslow from Keeping Up Appearences and Skins being the sole exception) but the idea that you might not be able to make an honest, deep, beautiful connection with someone due to your lack of knowledge about the kitchen section at Ikea is depressing (I say this as a person who regularly enjoys opening my kitchen cupboard just to stare wistfully at my matching big plates, little plates and bowls all lined up at right angles and nestling up to one another like identical new-born kittens (or something) and sighing contentedly). Or that wearing your jim-jams till after the Antiques Roadshow on a Sunday (at which point there's little point in getting dressed 'properly' because who are you the fucking Queen? Who gives a shit??) might preclude you from forming a reciprocal, meaningful, life-long bond with another human being. These lists are so reductive and pointless. If I stop eating in bed will I get a boyfriend? Who cares! Let them eat cake! In bed! if they so wish. Here's a better list:

1. Go to therapy
2. Be kind
3. Be mindful and open to the world around you
4. Be passionate about the things you find interesting
5. Think for yourself
6. Learn how to be the most 'you' version of you that's possible, completely and without apology (see point 1)
7. Ignore stupid obvious vapid lists

If you do all that then whether or not you find a romantic partner won't actually matter but may in fact be a pleasant consequence of such action. God, when will I be made president of the world? I sure hope it is soon!

*Just like in real life in fact!
** Memo to self: Maybe mention this to therapist***
*** Or maybe don't. Pretty sure she'll think I'm crazy.