Talking Myself Out Of A Happy Birthday

Update at bottom of post.

A zillion reasons to call the whole thing off

• Its almost that week of the month.
• I am fat.
• I am evil tempered.
• I've had to give up on wearing my smart trousers tonight and opt for the larger-wasted jeans because everything else is cutting me in half.
• They fall down if I stand up,
• The only belt that fits has a pointy buckle and it digs in if I sit down.
• I also dyed my hair today, semi permanent, nat. dark brown, same as last month, except Superdrug were out of stock so I used Boots.
• Its crap.
• This morning I had a silver stripe if I made a central parting. Now its orange, and smelly, and wider than before because the damned ammonia lifted some of last month's colour at the same time.
• It also made my fingertips feel scarily sticky when wet.
• And like they have excema when dry.
• I can't find my eyebrow wax.
• I look like some hairy neanderthal wild woman who can't find her eyebrow wax.
  
• I have never been this fat before in my life.
• I could probably handle it if I could still sit on my ankles, or breathe properly, or not feel like I was walking round in a sumo suit.
• We're going to the Komedia club and I've never been there before.
• I've never been to a comedy thingummy at all before.
• I hate new experiences when someone else has high hopes or expectations based on my reaction. I'd much sooner know whether or not I like something BEFORE my partner is going to sulk for a week if I dont.
• I would have sooner gone to the music event because they are more predictable - no smoke, no other noise, seats facing front etc.
• The comedy tickets are cheaper.
• My inner witch is saying things about that and I am ignoring her with gritted teeth.
• I didnt get any present from him or the kids this morning 'because we are going out instead'. Oh yup, she has things to say there, too.
  
• I have this fear that the Komedia will be packed to the hilt with noisy, derogatory, self-involved 20 and 30-somethings.
• I dont want to spend my night in a schoolyard for brats with car keys and designer handbags and too much money.
  
• I have this fear that its going to reek deliciously of cigarettes and tobacco and I will turn into a craven maniac chewing the foul, beer spattered carpet for want of a smoke before the first turn even gets to the stage.
• I think I have an ulcer from the blood thinners. It would explain why my skin from ribs to belly button is as tight as a medicine ball right now.
• It would also explain why working myself up like this means my throat is burned to a crisp.
  
• I'm more involved in where the Rennies are than where I left my purse.
• If they don't serve coffee at this rate I am going to have to sip one beer, very, very, slowly.
• Part of me just wants to spoil it all right now, to be done with all this acid-making anticipation. What a brat I can be.
  
• Oh yes, and I'm fat. Did I mention that?

(Wish me luck....)

UPDATE:
It was brilliant! We laughed ourselves silly and even ended up with seats in the front row. I was making whooping noises in the applause, it was that good. Then I got back home and found out that you lot are the best blog-friends ever! Talk about a wonderful birthday.
Its five minutes to February here now, so I cant hang around and say more, except, THANK YOU!!! :-)

How British Are You?

Ben Fenton over at the Telegraph has designed a comprehensive little quiz to test your Britishness. If you are not British, or have no desire to be British, but think you have a fair idea of what is wrong with the British, then you are still allowed to play.

Heres a sample question:

7) You are standing in a crowded train and somebody stands on your foot, so you:

a) Stand on theirs, crying 'See, that's what it feels like, you troglodyte'.

b) Ignore it and hope nobody notices that you haven't made a fuss

c) Ignore it and hope everybody notices that you haven't made a fuss.

d) Apologise and move a few feet sideways.

OK? Got the drift?

Word of warning:
You may wish to remove breakable objects from reach, replace them with a box of tissues, and thoroughly empty your bladder before following the link... HERE.

Yonner Rocks!

Found Yonner today.

Yonner (Mark Goodwin) got 'discovered' on his blog when he decided to play the nose trumpet and video the results. His (wonderful) mini recital was soon snapped up by the UK's Channel 4, and here is the news article to back that up.

You can see his Symphony #1 in B minor, HERE.

Thoroughly recommended - hang on in there for the four part harmonies!

Music To Go Gay By?

The following list was built, it seems, by good Christian parents emailing in details of any suspect performer or piece of music; specifically anything that they feel stirs the loins in the 'wrong' direction. Corinne Bailey Rae is on the list and so is Frank Sinatra, because, heavens, Betsy, today's wayward young uns just can't get enough of Ol' Blue Eyes, if you don't keep them on a tight leash.

Site host Donnie Davies' encouraging comment at the bottom of the page "You guys know of a lot more Gay Bands than I do" says more about the contributors than was perhaps intended.

Here's the list.

Stegbeetle - you may be pleased to know that Evanescence made it on to the safe and sanctioned list...... phew, eh?

Vanity

Erm, about the change of photo in the profile from the crabby old bag version to the fancy-antsy one.

Yup, that one.

About that.

Well.

See, if you are quick the very lovely Mr Tino Buntic is creating a page linking to just 2,000 bloggers; all just for the fun of it, and the way to get onto the page is to run over to his blog and ask; here.

The only thing he asks is that your blog has a photo of you on it somewhere that he can snaffle to add to this lot.

Well now, I ask you, a girl has to powder her nose, yes?

Beardyman!

Genius.

Do What, John?

All together now:

(Music)

Do what John? Do what John?
Come again do what?
Do what John? Do what John?
Do what? Do what? Do what?
Do where John? Do where John?
With what, with whom and when?
Trific realy trific,
Pardon, come again?

Honestly I think I'll be singing that all day.

Serendipity brought me to Eric Idle's site! Heres another, more of a cautionary tail, or perhaps a moral with nobs on, NSFW. Well, it tickles me, but thats enough of that.

Two Questions

Question 1:
I found this Snap previews thingummy dooda over at writermom's blog where it looked very cool indeed, so I snaffled it. Thing is, I'm a mouse wobbler with a fidgety cursor, so for me it means these damn preview squares keep popping up and getting in the way because I'm always scrolling past the links. You too? I guess I mean *ahem* - question - do you like it, or does it get right on your wick?

Question 2:
I have watched the following video "Funny Commercials II" four times in a row because I can't stop chuckling. There are two adverts in here that I fondly remember and one that I have never seen before, but totally adore. Which do you reckon those three are, and why?



(Bonus question - which do you like the best?)

I've found my perfect job

I'm going to go be a lifeguard on a hot, exotic beach.



Do you think they'll buy it if I say its against my religion to get wet?

No?

Doh! Silly me, hot exotic beaches dont come under UK employment law.

W H Smith do though - so have you seen THIS?

Call Me Yoko Atwood?

Thanks, LeLaquet, for finding this.

Detritus of the mind

... otherwise known as a brain fart. If my thoughts were a bottle of ketchup then perhaps I left the lid off too long and this is the equivalent of slapping out the junky, coagulated stuff. Breathe deep, here goes....

Been experiencing loads of stuff recently, some funny, some dire, much personal. Roughly every twenty minutes, whilst pacing round in my mind in ever decreasing circles, I come across something that would be 'good to blog', but then never get around to it - somehow signing into my account, or finding the words, or doing the links, all seems like too much hoo-ha.

Yes, in the UK a hoo-ha is a load of fuss and bother, not a fandanglywotsit. Whatever that is.

I am currently, very bravely, forcing down a glass of South African Pinotage which, in this case, failed to travel. At least it travelled very well, if it was always meant to taste like Ribena mixed with petrol. Lets just say I have never, in my life, sunk to chewing gum and sipping wine simultaneously..... until now. Somehow its helping. If there was a cigarette in reach, I might have to also undertake a furious walk outdoors, and swear a lot, to get over the urge to light one at least ten in a chain.

All this kerfuffle over the UK Celebrity Big Brother has made me much more interested in the peacemakers and go-betweens.

For those of you who have escaped being informed about this, last week there was seemingly some celebrity three-onto-one bullying with racist overtones.

Little Danielle, one of the perpetrators, was seemingly trying to make peace, making overtures of friendship to Shilpa, but then running back to Jade to voluntarily twist everything that had been said. I really cant tell whether she's completely insecure or a total stirrer.

Dirk and Jermaine have both encouraged Shilpa to rise above it all and been a source of comfort, whilst at the same time being decent towards the 'opposition', although they have definitely shown a preference for which company they keep. Dirk is more the clown, Jermaine more the serious, inflexible one.

Cleo, however has hovered ineffectually between them all, apparently trying to 'sit on the fence' and for that she annoys me intensely. I know the others dont reject her, and to be honest although she claims to mean well, her behaviour looks so self-serving.

Real grace hates the sin but loves the sinner. Real strength and balance can say "I see good things in you, but what you did was wrong".

All I see Cleo doing (and I know TV can warp these things) is refusing to judge even the actions. She never actually comforts anyone or validates how upset they feel because she seems to be there only to convince tham that it 'wasnt that bad', that they are 'wrong to be so upset'. Whatever feelings she has, she hides them, and her official stance is that the other side 'didnt mean it', no matter who you are or what just happened to you. The thing is, this desperation to be seen to have no favorites, to be completely on the fence, all it does when she rushes to console someone (and, I suspect, to underline her chosen role of official angel), is dismiss their understanding of the situation and oh-so-subtly castigate them for how they are feeling. She puts them in the role of victim and child, and then reinforces it, with a gentle, parental voice, calmly telling them they got it all wrong; leaving them feeling foolish and somehow to blame, whether that is true or not.

I've heard others accuse her of being sexual to the extreme in her clothing, but unwilling to mention sex. I've heard her called abused, for that. I've heard some say she takes control of a weeping co-contestant quite deliberately, needing to be the one in the right. Personally I feel she doesnt see it that way, but damn, I'd like to tell her. In her efforts to help she enacts her own form of bullying because she sucks power and dignity from others, presumably to bolster her own self image and sense of having the upper hand.

That leaves H.
Of them all, kind, gentle H has somehow managed to validate and appreciate each and every person (how very John Edward). Their eyes light up when they relate to him, none of this glassy eyed preparation to be both in the wrong and educated (as there seems to be with Cleo), they are all relaxed and open with him, even though he has managed to voice his understanding of what is unacceptable behaviour.

The guy has talent. Tell me there are no vicars, psychologists or counsellors in his ancestry, I won't believe it.

People have won or lost on the basis of their manners and social skills (all subjective) and how they reflect those of the average BB viewer. I'm sorry but although Shilpa is strong and dignified, beautiful and considerate, her permanently high pitched, sing-song voice and her alleged habit of helping herself off other people's plates without even the distance afforded by cutlery (and the pot may be communal, but here a plate is so very private), well, culturally neither of these things are typically British. I think it would be a bit forced, if she won.

Cleo, apparently, is second choice, but my money is on H to win, with Dirk a close second.

Pardon?

You are a thirtysomething

You're a little frustrated that you can't hear all the tones that the young 'uns can but will be more than happy if it means you don't have to listen to their damn ringtones on the bus anymore. The highest pitched ultrasonic mosquito ringtone that I can hear is 14.9kHz

Find out which ringtones you can hear!

Been up all night, trying to think...

What else would you call THIS?

A Baggy Dooda?

Dear Big Brother

Dear Big Brother (or is it Endemol?*)

You are running out of celebrities this year, it seems. (1, 2, 3)

It looks like someone too influential forgot that ordinary people like to gawp at celebrities being flawed and human, not caged and humiliated. OK perhaps theres a niche market for that, but niche is the word.

It seems that the big whip (or perhaps the new broom), in the blindly aggressive drive to imagine completely new twists and hooks to the whole experience, has got poor desperate ideas people (ideas kiddies I suspect) scraping the bottom of the barrel. Reminds me of Letitia Cropley's masterpieces, always with a new yet horrifying twist.

Anyway, having slagged you all off, I'm not proud, so, can I play?

I know you might be looking for a bloke or two, but in my defence,

* I am 45 (average in the house this year)

* I am currently fat and I snore, like Ken

* I am on tablets, and fart like Jackiey (well, no, I'm pretty damn certain they're not the same tablets, but still)

* I am opinionated like Carole

* As yabbering, wild haired, aggravating and stubborn as Leo

* As crude, sarcastic and um, individual as Donny

* Added extra: I am between sizes in my cheap jeans and only have the two pair, so walk around either cut in half by the smaller pair, or constantly heaving the larger ones back up a la building-site-worker. Its a farce.

To top it all if fake pseudocelebrity is a must, I could convincingly pretend to be Griff Rhys Jones' secret, institutionalised half-sister....

or Russell Brand's mum.

(Actually now I think about it the two cover stories are not mutually exclusive and could run together).

So, are we game?

Yes?

Hello?


*Or rather, so new they can't even sort the website, 'Brighter Pictures'.

Special Needs E-Petition

For my UK friends only (sorry) but PLEASE pass this around.

Number 10 Downing Street has a website.

They accept petitions.

The following petition will be live until 20 February 2007.

Helen Green, the Petition Creator, writes:

SENDIST POWERS

We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Give SENDIST more powers to act when an LEA is at fault.

SENDIST hearings mean they are witnesses to many Local Education Authorities not acting in the best interests of children with Special Educational Needs, for example using possible "Blanket policies" when deciding whether to undertake statutory assessments and statements. We feel SENDIST should be able to act when witness to possible maladministration rather than parents having to go through hearings and then also having to contact the Ombudsman.

I never knew that! I mean to say my own Local Education Authority made a great fuss about how stressful and bad for everybody it would be to go to tribunal and I almost felt guilted out of it. Then when we got there the LEA representative was warmly welcomed by a member of staff and I overheard her commenting that she was up there to represent the County about once every six weeks.

Perhaps it was a joke.

I still assumed that a SENDIST tribunal would have the power to at least pressure an LEA into following the rules.

HERES THE LINK. If you are a UK resident, please use it and sign. A corporate body that gets away with cutting one corner will by and by cut more; just because they can.

Tags: SENDIST, Tribunal, Special Needs, Downing Street, Petition

The Truth Will Out .....*ahem* you.

Thanks to Jo for a link to The Gender Genie, a viciously effective little piece of software that will sift your writing style into extreme gender types.



If you have any gender secrets then this could draw them out, although I hope no-one playing with it has any surprises of their own in store. Can you imagine being outed to yourself? Horrifying! (Or, as Catherine Tate put it,...)

Gobsmacked

Hornswaggled, discombobulated, befuddled, astonished, astounded, hornswaggled some more (because I think I love that word), and absolutely delighted.

If New Year's day is the model for the 364 to follow, then I shall be tickled pink!