A deep apology to my four devoted fans for my lack of blogs.... Here it is, more things that annoy me!
1. The Brits charge a yearly TV License to any home in the UK with a television. This applies whether you just watch the 5 channels provided, have a freeview box, or subscribe to a satellite company. Apparently this fee is charged because the BBC provides commercial-free television. I would much rather watch a few commercials (and have a potty break!!!) than drop 100 quid a year to the BBC.....
2. Cyclists. When crossing the street or walking on the pavement it is not motorists that I fear, it is cyclists!!!! Are you driving on the street or the sidewalk? MAKE UP YOUR MIND! If you are driving on the street, you should be obeying the laws of the road (i.e. when the cars riding in the same direction as you and have a red light you are also meant to stop....). I should not be clipped by a motorist as I cross the street on a green man just because they're in too big of a rush to stop at the red light. Furthermore, if I am walking on the sidewalk, I do not need to be beeped at by cyclists coming from behind (since they are SUPPOSED to drive on the road) nor should I almost be knocked down by an oncoming cyclist who (GOD FORBID) cannot be bothered to apologize after nearly killing me on a sidewalk!
3. There is a quiet sidestreet in Chelmsford right by the railway station. I have to cross over it every day to get to the station. However, cars are always turning into it to drop people off at the station. They never stop and let pedestrians cross nor do they even bother to slow down and look for pedestrians. Rather, they treat this left turn as though it is part of the straight road they were previously travelling on and not a separate road entirely. This is especially annoying when it is pouring rain and I am WALKING to the station and have to wait for all these stupid cars. It is also very annoying when I am crossing and a car that has whizzed down the road BEEPS at me to get moving. FUCK OFF.
4. Teenagers on public buses. Enough said.
5. The other day I read this article about a family (from another country) who had 7 children and were being put up in a 1 million pound council house and receiving something like 180 000 pounds a year in benefits. They'd been here for 7 years and several of their children were past the age of dependency yet they were still receiving benefits for these children. Another family with 11 children were complaining that their council house was 'too small'. HELLO. Stop having a million children, get a job, and pay your own way. Meanwhile I am working my ass off, paying a fortune in taxes, and am now required to fork over almost 600 quid to stay in this country. Apparently I should have just blown out college, popped out a bunch of kids, and reaped the benefits!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Fat is the new Skinny (or is it?)
It seems the biggest thing these days is to be big. All the fashion mags are saying that curvy is delicious, there are a hundred shows devoted to making 'bigger' women look good on T.V., and curvy celebs are getting noticed. (Let's be honest here, CURVY is just a nicer word for chubby....).
Every women's magazine these days seems to devote at least one article to loving your body, eating disorders, improving self-confidence, or some other body issue - telling women that big is beautiful. Then, just as you're feeling all warm and fuzzy, you turn the page to be confronted with a ten page fashion layout featuring size 0 women in clothes a woman with even an ounce of fat would look hideous in. Is it just me, or is this all a bit hypocritical?
Now, to be fair, most fashion labels only offer sample clothing in size 0s so that the magazines are forced to hire models who fit in these clothes (as just photographing clothes on hangers might not have the same effect...). But let's be realistic... fashion magazines are, essentially, one big advertisement for fashion labels, cosmetics, and perfumes. If the magazines refused to photograph uber skinny models and didn't print ads featuring toothpick women, the labels would, in turn, be forced to meet magazines demands as they do make up a huge chunk of their advertising and sales. Of course, more than one magazine would have to commit to this viewpoint for it to work, but really, is it so difficult to take a stand and make an attempt to feature women from a size 0 to a size 20? If these magazines are attempting to reach an audience of women of all sizes, shouldn't we see our body types featured in them (and not just on the 'beautiful at any size' featurettes!)?
The women's magazine industry has preached total body acceptance long enough. It's time for them to practice what they preach!
Every women's magazine these days seems to devote at least one article to loving your body, eating disorders, improving self-confidence, or some other body issue - telling women that big is beautiful. Then, just as you're feeling all warm and fuzzy, you turn the page to be confronted with a ten page fashion layout featuring size 0 women in clothes a woman with even an ounce of fat would look hideous in. Is it just me, or is this all a bit hypocritical?
Now, to be fair, most fashion labels only offer sample clothing in size 0s so that the magazines are forced to hire models who fit in these clothes (as just photographing clothes on hangers might not have the same effect...). But let's be realistic... fashion magazines are, essentially, one big advertisement for fashion labels, cosmetics, and perfumes. If the magazines refused to photograph uber skinny models and didn't print ads featuring toothpick women, the labels would, in turn, be forced to meet magazines demands as they do make up a huge chunk of their advertising and sales. Of course, more than one magazine would have to commit to this viewpoint for it to work, but really, is it so difficult to take a stand and make an attempt to feature women from a size 0 to a size 20? If these magazines are attempting to reach an audience of women of all sizes, shouldn't we see our body types featured in them (and not just on the 'beautiful at any size' featurettes!)?
The women's magazine industry has preached total body acceptance long enough. It's time for them to practice what they preach!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Perils of the Gladiator Boot
Don't get me wrong, I think the gladiator sandals are cute. In fact, I own a pair! But the gladiator sandals have morphed into something more extreme. The gladiator boot.
There are many versions of the gladiator boot, each as hideous as the first. Basically, the gladiator boot began as a gladiator sandal that morphed into something much more extreme.
What I think it most disturbing about the gladiator boot, is all the holes and crevices for fat calves to hang out of (because you know someone with chunky calves is going to buy these boots). Really they remind me of something a monster would wear in a horror movie.
But when you think about it, the gladiator boot is probably more historically realistic than the gladiator sandal. I mean really, can you picture big, burly gladiators heading off into a war with flimsy little sandals on their feet? Most likely they wore boots just like these! Their big, muscular calves bulging out of all the little crevices. A rash forming where sweat has gotten stuck behind all the leather bits. Later, after the war, the gladiators would peel the leather gladiator boots from their bloody, war-torn skin. A real sexy image. However, most drawings depict gladiators wearing sheilds strapped onto their shins (just imagine if this had become the trend!!! you would see all these skinny, petite fashionistas trying to haul themselves around with shields heavier than they are strapped onto their scrawny legs!).
Anyway, as I was doing my normal patrol of the mall today (or whatever you English folk want to call the place with all the shops), I spied the gladiator boots in a high end shoe store. I think you have to see it to believe how ugly it really is. This particular boot had ties up the front (like the kind of boots Goths wear) and in the back it had a big zipper!!!! I wanted to try it on just for a laugh (but didn't, because the bitches who work at this shoe store look like they have never had a laugh in their whole lives). This made me think about what people might wear with the gladiator boots (this summer's sexiest accessory).
Some ideas:
Gladiator Boots + a Prom dress (just don't trod on your date's feet)
Gladiator Boots + Hot Pants (distract wandering eyes from your cellulite)
Gladiator Boots + A String Bikini (a sexy twist on beach ware)
Gladiator Boots + Five Sticks of Black Eyeliner (see the Olsen twins for inspiration)
Oh yes.... have I mentioned the average price of the Gladiator Boot? For this shockingly hideous footware, be prepared to shell out in excess of 60 quid. A real bargain.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
It's in the Small Print ... (and other bullshit)
Is it just me, or are more and more companies relying on the phrase 'well it IS in the small print' to get away with robbing dutiful citizens of their hard-earned money?
Case in point:
I joined this fitness emporium one holiday when I was feeling particularly elephantesque. They signed me up for all this crap, charged the usual fees, blah, blah, blah. So there I am signing on the dotted line for my THREE-MONTH membership babbling on about how I only plan to do three months because I might be moving back to my homeland while this knob of a 'customer service rep' smiles at me (because really he's thinking 'I might go on a holiday with the commission I am making off you). Anyway... flash to three months later (during which I may have visited this gym three times total). I've paid for my three months and I am now thinking I am done with this gym....
Right.
I check my account on the 1st of the month and the damn gym has taken out another payment for a fourth month. So I ring them up, explain nicely that I don't want a fourth month, could I please have my money back? Well, no, I can't have my money back because the payment has already gone through. FURTHERMORE I am expected to come in to the gym to sign a form to cancel my membership (this is the three month membership I have signed up for that, it turns out, is actually not for three months but for an unspecified length of time).
So I trot down to the gym shortly after this phone call only to be told that I need to make an appointment to cancel my membership (they apparently could not divulge such confidential information on the telephone). At this point I may have slightly lost my temper on the bimbo blonde desk girl with the spider-leg eyelashes (that much mascara should be illegal). The only thing this girl is apparently able to say, however, is 'well, it IS in the small print'.
Right.
The next day I reappear at this gym (really, I've now visited more as a non-member than a member!) for my appointment with a 'manager' (one of many people hired to deal with cranky customers but not an actual manager). I state my case, get the fine print crap again, blah blah blah. Then this guy tries to SELL ME AN EXTENDED MEMBERSHIP! I'm standing there pissed off, on the verge of enraged, trying to cancel this bloody membership when I was clear I didn't want to go past three months (you would think that would be a good time for the sales rep to mention the cancellation policy....) and this greasy loser is trying to SELL ME something. Then I was really pissed. And to top it off, I had to tell the guy THREE TIMES I wasn't interested.
Now here is the real icing on the cake....:
Because I did not cancel my membership by the last day of the month, I am now expected to pay for a FIFTH month! I come down there less than twenty four hours after the day and am expected to dish out 40 quid more for being one day late.
FUCK OFF.
Anyway, after my account was charged this fourth payment, I did have a look at the fine print. What I discovered (as I suspected I would), is that is it IMPOSSIBLE to understand. There are so many 'except when' or 'in the case of' or 'excluding clause 4' that no human being who didn't spend time in some sort of law school could possibly be expected to decipher the damn thing. I don't consider myself to be thick, but seriously. Not to mention the fact that you practically need a magnifying class to read the small print (because it really is SMALL).
I really don't understand why guy number one (who, consequently, disappeared into employee quarters when he saw me walk through the door to cancel my membership) couldn't take ten seconds out of his busy schmoozing day to inform me of the cancellation policy. PARTICULARLY when we were sitting there discussing how I may possibly move back to Canada in July (I guess he thought I would want to keep paying for a gym membership from abroad?). I also don't understand why chick on the phone could not inform me that I needed to make an appointment to cancel my membership on the phone instead of waiting until I walked twenty minutes to get there so she could inform me in person. Nor do I understand why fake manager guy thought it would be appropriate to try to sell me a membership when I was clearly pissed off at the company as a whole.
Is customer service really that difficult a concept (I mean, they all have customer service something or another stamped onto their nametags)? Clearly the commission outweighs customer satisfaction.
At the end of my 'appointment' (which basically means the fake manager guy accepted that I wouldn't be buying anything from him and signed the damn form) he gave me a number of another 'manager' to contact. His exact words were 'ask for so-and-so, he is good at dealing with these types of issues' (which to me clearly indicates I am not the first person to experience dissatisfaction with the cancellation policy).
The moral of the story (and this is for sales reps everywhere): take the TEN FREAKING SECONDS to clearly articulate your company's cancellation policy. It's not hard.
But this is what really kills me.... you know that if the same thing happened to these pricks who can't be bothered to tell you how it is, they would be right in there yelling and screaming about how their rights have been violated in some way.
All I have to say to this company as a whole is FUCK YOU.
Case in point:
I joined this fitness emporium one holiday when I was feeling particularly elephantesque. They signed me up for all this crap, charged the usual fees, blah, blah, blah. So there I am signing on the dotted line for my THREE-MONTH membership babbling on about how I only plan to do three months because I might be moving back to my homeland while this knob of a 'customer service rep' smiles at me (because really he's thinking 'I might go on a holiday with the commission I am making off you). Anyway... flash to three months later (during which I may have visited this gym three times total). I've paid for my three months and I am now thinking I am done with this gym....
Right.
I check my account on the 1st of the month and the damn gym has taken out another payment for a fourth month. So I ring them up, explain nicely that I don't want a fourth month, could I please have my money back? Well, no, I can't have my money back because the payment has already gone through. FURTHERMORE I am expected to come in to the gym to sign a form to cancel my membership (this is the three month membership I have signed up for that, it turns out, is actually not for three months but for an unspecified length of time).
So I trot down to the gym shortly after this phone call only to be told that I need to make an appointment to cancel my membership (they apparently could not divulge such confidential information on the telephone). At this point I may have slightly lost my temper on the bimbo blonde desk girl with the spider-leg eyelashes (that much mascara should be illegal). The only thing this girl is apparently able to say, however, is 'well, it IS in the small print'.
Right.
The next day I reappear at this gym (really, I've now visited more as a non-member than a member!) for my appointment with a 'manager' (one of many people hired to deal with cranky customers but not an actual manager). I state my case, get the fine print crap again, blah blah blah. Then this guy tries to SELL ME AN EXTENDED MEMBERSHIP! I'm standing there pissed off, on the verge of enraged, trying to cancel this bloody membership when I was clear I didn't want to go past three months (you would think that would be a good time for the sales rep to mention the cancellation policy....) and this greasy loser is trying to SELL ME something. Then I was really pissed. And to top it off, I had to tell the guy THREE TIMES I wasn't interested.
Now here is the real icing on the cake....:
Because I did not cancel my membership by the last day of the month, I am now expected to pay for a FIFTH month! I come down there less than twenty four hours after the day and am expected to dish out 40 quid more for being one day late.
FUCK OFF.
Anyway, after my account was charged this fourth payment, I did have a look at the fine print. What I discovered (as I suspected I would), is that is it IMPOSSIBLE to understand. There are so many 'except when' or 'in the case of' or 'excluding clause 4' that no human being who didn't spend time in some sort of law school could possibly be expected to decipher the damn thing. I don't consider myself to be thick, but seriously. Not to mention the fact that you practically need a magnifying class to read the small print (because it really is SMALL).
I really don't understand why guy number one (who, consequently, disappeared into employee quarters when he saw me walk through the door to cancel my membership) couldn't take ten seconds out of his busy schmoozing day to inform me of the cancellation policy. PARTICULARLY when we were sitting there discussing how I may possibly move back to Canada in July (I guess he thought I would want to keep paying for a gym membership from abroad?). I also don't understand why chick on the phone could not inform me that I needed to make an appointment to cancel my membership on the phone instead of waiting until I walked twenty minutes to get there so she could inform me in person. Nor do I understand why fake manager guy thought it would be appropriate to try to sell me a membership when I was clearly pissed off at the company as a whole.
Is customer service really that difficult a concept (I mean, they all have customer service something or another stamped onto their nametags)? Clearly the commission outweighs customer satisfaction.
At the end of my 'appointment' (which basically means the fake manager guy accepted that I wouldn't be buying anything from him and signed the damn form) he gave me a number of another 'manager' to contact. His exact words were 'ask for so-and-so, he is good at dealing with these types of issues' (which to me clearly indicates I am not the first person to experience dissatisfaction with the cancellation policy).
The moral of the story (and this is for sales reps everywhere): take the TEN FREAKING SECONDS to clearly articulate your company's cancellation policy. It's not hard.
But this is what really kills me.... you know that if the same thing happened to these pricks who can't be bothered to tell you how it is, they would be right in there yelling and screaming about how their rights have been violated in some way.
All I have to say to this company as a whole is FUCK YOU.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I'm Surprised I Didn't Kill Someone Today.... People I Hate on Public Transportation
It must be just about 'that time of the month' because it seems I am crankier than usual lately!! My current state of rage is not helped by my daily journey on London's public transport systems. Let's just say a few people are very lucky they did not get clobbered today.
1. Sometimes when there are no seats on the train, I am forced to stand in some squashed corner of the doorway for the 15 minute train ride to Shenfield. Now, first of all, aren't I paying a MILLION quid a week for a bloody train ticket???? For the dear price I pay, you would think that would earn you a SEAT on the train. But no. Anyway, I've gotten over that bit. I console myself by thinking, 'well, at least you will be the first person off the train'. You would think that anyway, since I am pretty much standing pressed up against the door (sometimes I have visions that the door malfuntions and opens whilst the train is speeding down the track, throwing me to my painful death!). I might get off first, if the doorknobs who have been sitting for the past 30 minutes, didn't jump up and shove their way to the front. Sometimes I feel like pushing them out of my way, like you do when you are five.
2. The school children who ride the train and/or bus act like it's their first day out in humanity after landing in England on the raft they have been sailing on for the past 13 years of their life. Is it necessary to SCREAM conversations at each other. Don't they know I am trying to peacefully read my book?
3. I hate when people reading newspapers think that gives them the liberty to take up half the space in the cabin. Do you really need to spread the newspaper as wide as it will go without ripping? Likewise, do you need to poke me in the side EVERYTIME you turn the page (and not once say sorry).
4. I realise I get off at an obscure train stop... but I don't understand why the people who get on at that stop can't move out of the way so I can exit the train in peace. Instead I practically have to knock down people to get off the bloody train. And then, after I push through the WALL of human beings, I have to avoid being knocked down by people who are sprinting down the platform trying to get in an emptier car because they couldn't get their lazy asses there a few minutes earlier. Even worse, are the morons who fly down the stairs with no respect for people climbing up them trying to catch a train that has already started MOVING OUT OF THE STATION.
5. When lots of people get off the train at the same time and start moving down the staircase people seem to think that the hundreds of people in front of you will move along faster if they practically walk on your feet. I have visions of myself being pushed down the stairs and commuters walking over my bleeding, broken body instead of missing their train to help me.
6. BIKES ON THE TRAIN. The train is crowded in the morning. Can't you leave your bike at the station and WALK to work when you get to London?
7. PRAMS ON THE BUS. They take up enough room for ten passengers (since people seem to only buy prams the size of small cars these days).
8. I don't understand why people under the age of 20 can't sit in a seat on the bus unless they are sat next to their friends. Instead, the bus pulls up and all you can see is a wall of humans pressed against the windows and doors and you think to yourself, 'fucking hell'. But you've been waiting for the bus for 15 minutes, so you squeeze yourself on. As you're standing there, trying to stand straight as you have nothing to hold onto, you start to notice that there are about 65 seats available at the back of the bus and about half as many people standing blocking your way to the empty seats. SIT IN THE DAMN SEATS.
9. I always have about ten bags going back and forth to work. I will put them in my lap or on the floor if the bus/train is empty. However, if there are about 5 people on the bus/train, I stick them in the seat next to me. When there are 45 seats available, is it really necessary to rudely ask me to move my stuff so you can sit there. Is it a lucky seat or something?
10. This wasn't actually on the train or bus, but was in my in between snack stop, so I am counting it anyway. I go into this shop for a little bag of chips and have my money ready to pay. This woman and her two brats are choosing candy. One hasn't decided yet, so the lady tells me to go first. As I am waiting for my change, this little boy says to me, 'HURRY UP LADY'. Instead of slapping the rude bastard, the woman (WHO TOLD ME TO GO FIRST) says, 'it's not the lady's fault, it's Adam's' and the little knob says, 'YES IT IS THE LADY'S FAULT. HURRY UP LADY'. Now, if that was my child I would certainly not be buying them the chocolate bar, nor would I let it behave so rudely in a public place. This is a prime example of why some teacher's eventually end up on stress leave. Because parents let their children run the show. If that child was in my class, he would have been sitting in the detention room with no chocolate.
1. Sometimes when there are no seats on the train, I am forced to stand in some squashed corner of the doorway for the 15 minute train ride to Shenfield. Now, first of all, aren't I paying a MILLION quid a week for a bloody train ticket???? For the dear price I pay, you would think that would earn you a SEAT on the train. But no. Anyway, I've gotten over that bit. I console myself by thinking, 'well, at least you will be the first person off the train'. You would think that anyway, since I am pretty much standing pressed up against the door (sometimes I have visions that the door malfuntions and opens whilst the train is speeding down the track, throwing me to my painful death!). I might get off first, if the doorknobs who have been sitting for the past 30 minutes, didn't jump up and shove their way to the front. Sometimes I feel like pushing them out of my way, like you do when you are five.
2. The school children who ride the train and/or bus act like it's their first day out in humanity after landing in England on the raft they have been sailing on for the past 13 years of their life. Is it necessary to SCREAM conversations at each other. Don't they know I am trying to peacefully read my book?
3. I hate when people reading newspapers think that gives them the liberty to take up half the space in the cabin. Do you really need to spread the newspaper as wide as it will go without ripping? Likewise, do you need to poke me in the side EVERYTIME you turn the page (and not once say sorry).
4. I realise I get off at an obscure train stop... but I don't understand why the people who get on at that stop can't move out of the way so I can exit the train in peace. Instead I practically have to knock down people to get off the bloody train. And then, after I push through the WALL of human beings, I have to avoid being knocked down by people who are sprinting down the platform trying to get in an emptier car because they couldn't get their lazy asses there a few minutes earlier. Even worse, are the morons who fly down the stairs with no respect for people climbing up them trying to catch a train that has already started MOVING OUT OF THE STATION.
5. When lots of people get off the train at the same time and start moving down the staircase people seem to think that the hundreds of people in front of you will move along faster if they practically walk on your feet. I have visions of myself being pushed down the stairs and commuters walking over my bleeding, broken body instead of missing their train to help me.
6. BIKES ON THE TRAIN. The train is crowded in the morning. Can't you leave your bike at the station and WALK to work when you get to London?
7. PRAMS ON THE BUS. They take up enough room for ten passengers (since people seem to only buy prams the size of small cars these days).
8. I don't understand why people under the age of 20 can't sit in a seat on the bus unless they are sat next to their friends. Instead, the bus pulls up and all you can see is a wall of humans pressed against the windows and doors and you think to yourself, 'fucking hell'. But you've been waiting for the bus for 15 minutes, so you squeeze yourself on. As you're standing there, trying to stand straight as you have nothing to hold onto, you start to notice that there are about 65 seats available at the back of the bus and about half as many people standing blocking your way to the empty seats. SIT IN THE DAMN SEATS.
9. I always have about ten bags going back and forth to work. I will put them in my lap or on the floor if the bus/train is empty. However, if there are about 5 people on the bus/train, I stick them in the seat next to me. When there are 45 seats available, is it really necessary to rudely ask me to move my stuff so you can sit there. Is it a lucky seat or something?
10. This wasn't actually on the train or bus, but was in my in between snack stop, so I am counting it anyway. I go into this shop for a little bag of chips and have my money ready to pay. This woman and her two brats are choosing candy. One hasn't decided yet, so the lady tells me to go first. As I am waiting for my change, this little boy says to me, 'HURRY UP LADY'. Instead of slapping the rude bastard, the woman (WHO TOLD ME TO GO FIRST) says, 'it's not the lady's fault, it's Adam's' and the little knob says, 'YES IT IS THE LADY'S FAULT. HURRY UP LADY'. Now, if that was my child I would certainly not be buying them the chocolate bar, nor would I let it behave so rudely in a public place. This is a prime example of why some teacher's eventually end up on stress leave. Because parents let their children run the show. If that child was in my class, he would have been sitting in the detention room with no chocolate.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
A True Story of Self-Deprecation
Ok. Have you ever pined away for someone for an eternity with no result? Slept with them a million times only to get a nice 'it's been great, let's do it again'. And you think to yourself, well, they must like you. They keep calling you, don't they? But then you think to yourself... hmmmm, no one actually knows this relationship exists except for the two of you and all your dates seem confined to his bedroom... and so you begin this process of self-loathing. Yeah, I'm good enough to sleep with but apparently not good enough to be seen with in public. I'm like a hooker who doesn't even get paid. I must be ugly. No, I must be disgusting. And not only am I hideously ugly but I also have such a terrible personality that I can't even win him over with that.
Eventually, after many tears and many calls to girlfriends who are sick and tired of hearing about this tumultuous love affair, you decide OK I am going to sever ties once and for all. Perhaps you move to another town or another continent. You're off living your life. New job, new friends, new man. Life is good. You've all but forgotten about He Whose Name Shall Never Be Mentioned. Then, the icing on the cake.....
One day you're browsing on facebook and up pops a picture of HWNSNBM and his new GIRLFRIEND (by gf, I mean a person who has actually prompted him to change his facebook status to In a Relationship when the whole time you were sleeping with him it was a great big fat blinking SINGLE). And you think to yourself FUCKING EH (not to be petty or anything), I AM MUCH BETTER LOOKING THEN THIS (at least I hope so).
This is when the real self-loathing begins.
At least if new girlfriend was a searing hot beauty then you wouldn't feel THAT bad. I mean, then you would know that he just had really impossibly high standards.... But when someone is not as good looking as you then you really start to wonder do I just think I'm better looking (when really I'm not). And is my personality really SO bad that even that couldn't win him over (as clearly looks are no longer a major factor).
And then, as though you're not feeling badly enough already, you feel even worse that (a) you're sitting here writing a nasty blog about some poor girl you don't even know, (b) it affects you this much after all this time, and (c) the secret dream you've been harboring that you will lose 20 pounds, get a new haircut, and sidle back into town and win this bloke over is now clearly a pipe dream as it is quite obvious that if you couldn't win his love in 5 years and new girlfriend is no supermodel anyway then perhaps HE JUST ISN'T THAT INTO YOU.
It's a hard pill to swallow. Guess I'll need a big glass of water.
Eventually, after many tears and many calls to girlfriends who are sick and tired of hearing about this tumultuous love affair, you decide OK I am going to sever ties once and for all. Perhaps you move to another town or another continent. You're off living your life. New job, new friends, new man. Life is good. You've all but forgotten about He Whose Name Shall Never Be Mentioned. Then, the icing on the cake.....
One day you're browsing on facebook and up pops a picture of HWNSNBM and his new GIRLFRIEND (by gf, I mean a person who has actually prompted him to change his facebook status to In a Relationship when the whole time you were sleeping with him it was a great big fat blinking SINGLE). And you think to yourself FUCKING EH (not to be petty or anything), I AM MUCH BETTER LOOKING THEN THIS (at least I hope so).
This is when the real self-loathing begins.
At least if new girlfriend was a searing hot beauty then you wouldn't feel THAT bad. I mean, then you would know that he just had really impossibly high standards.... But when someone is not as good looking as you then you really start to wonder do I just think I'm better looking (when really I'm not). And is my personality really SO bad that even that couldn't win him over (as clearly looks are no longer a major factor).
And then, as though you're not feeling badly enough already, you feel even worse that (a) you're sitting here writing a nasty blog about some poor girl you don't even know, (b) it affects you this much after all this time, and (c) the secret dream you've been harboring that you will lose 20 pounds, get a new haircut, and sidle back into town and win this bloke over is now clearly a pipe dream as it is quite obvious that if you couldn't win his love in 5 years and new girlfriend is no supermodel anyway then perhaps HE JUST ISN'T THAT INTO YOU.
It's a hard pill to swallow. Guess I'll need a big glass of water.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
I Hate Cyclists.... a Love Story.
I tried to find some anti-cyclists bumper sticker saying.... but all I got on my google search was a lot of pro-cycling, 'give cyclists their space' gobbly gook. I've slowly been developping an anti-cyclist attitude, but today was the final straw. Here is why I hate cyclists:
NUMBER 1 - When you are driving on the road, cyclists weave in and out of cars. Are they not aware that their bicycle does not actually show up in the blind spot. Nor can a driver SENSE a cycler sidling up beside them. This is how accidents happen.
NUMBER 2 - Despite driving on the road with the cars and thus, one would assume, meant to follow the same road rules as cars, cyclists have their own rules. Simply put, they make up the rules as they see fit. For example, if a car has a green light, the cyclist also has a green light. If a car as a red light, the cyclist still has a green light. The cyclist ALWAYS has the right of way. Don't mind the pedestrians who have the crossing light. Run over them if you have to.
NUMBER 3 - At the train station there is a cyclist parking lot. This would be fine except for the fact that to get into the parking lot, the cyclists often cut through the bus lane (thus, unexpected) and then swerve in front of pedestrians into this car park. Bastards.
NUMBER 4 - A bicycle is nowhere near as fast as a car. This becomes obvious when, for whatever reason, there is not enough room to drive your car past the cyclist without hitting them. Wait til they catch me on a bad day.
NUMBER 5 - I once had a near death experience caused by a cyclist. I was driving my car on this twisty road and an 18 wheeler swerved to miss a cyclist thus putting itself RIGHT IN MY LANE. I had to swerve my car off a road that had no bloody shoulder to avoid being creamed by a massive truck who was trying not to hit cycling man.
NUMBER 6 - Cyclists who drive on the sidewalk (English translation... pavement). Now, number one, you are meant to be driving on the road. Thus, if you decide to ride your bike on the sidewalk, then you should be prepared to stop and let pedestrians pass. NOT DRIVE YOUR BIKE DIRECTLY INTO THEIR PATH. For example, today I am walking home. I'm tired. I've had a long day. I am on foot. A cyclist approaches driving like a mad man. I figured he'd move so I continue along. The cycle continues to come towards me. I had to press myself up against a wall to avoid being hit. THEN a second cycle comes whizzing up behind the first and practically knocks my handbag off my shoulder. This is unacceptable. I wouldn't drive my car on the pavement (well, not on purpose) and you shouldn't drive your bicycle (unless you are about 8, at which point it is acceptable providing you do not knock down any pedestrians).
Now, I am all for healthy living and all that jazz. However, I don't think it should be had at the expense of my own LIFE! All I ask is that cyclists practice a little common sense, obey the rules, and please wear a helmet (if I hit you, or knock you off your bike with my bat, I don't want to see your brains splatter across the pavement).
NUMBER 1 - When you are driving on the road, cyclists weave in and out of cars. Are they not aware that their bicycle does not actually show up in the blind spot. Nor can a driver SENSE a cycler sidling up beside them. This is how accidents happen.
NUMBER 2 - Despite driving on the road with the cars and thus, one would assume, meant to follow the same road rules as cars, cyclists have their own rules. Simply put, they make up the rules as they see fit. For example, if a car has a green light, the cyclist also has a green light. If a car as a red light, the cyclist still has a green light. The cyclist ALWAYS has the right of way. Don't mind the pedestrians who have the crossing light. Run over them if you have to.
NUMBER 3 - At the train station there is a cyclist parking lot. This would be fine except for the fact that to get into the parking lot, the cyclists often cut through the bus lane (thus, unexpected) and then swerve in front of pedestrians into this car park. Bastards.
NUMBER 4 - A bicycle is nowhere near as fast as a car. This becomes obvious when, for whatever reason, there is not enough room to drive your car past the cyclist without hitting them. Wait til they catch me on a bad day.
NUMBER 5 - I once had a near death experience caused by a cyclist. I was driving my car on this twisty road and an 18 wheeler swerved to miss a cyclist thus putting itself RIGHT IN MY LANE. I had to swerve my car off a road that had no bloody shoulder to avoid being creamed by a massive truck who was trying not to hit cycling man.
NUMBER 6 - Cyclists who drive on the sidewalk (English translation... pavement). Now, number one, you are meant to be driving on the road. Thus, if you decide to ride your bike on the sidewalk, then you should be prepared to stop and let pedestrians pass. NOT DRIVE YOUR BIKE DIRECTLY INTO THEIR PATH. For example, today I am walking home. I'm tired. I've had a long day. I am on foot. A cyclist approaches driving like a mad man. I figured he'd move so I continue along. The cycle continues to come towards me. I had to press myself up against a wall to avoid being hit. THEN a second cycle comes whizzing up behind the first and practically knocks my handbag off my shoulder. This is unacceptable. I wouldn't drive my car on the pavement (well, not on purpose) and you shouldn't drive your bicycle (unless you are about 8, at which point it is acceptable providing you do not knock down any pedestrians).
Now, I am all for healthy living and all that jazz. However, I don't think it should be had at the expense of my own LIFE! All I ask is that cyclists practice a little common sense, obey the rules, and please wear a helmet (if I hit you, or knock you off your bike with my bat, I don't want to see your brains splatter across the pavement).
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll (and other things that are weird in England)....
A few English oddities...
1. Nobody seems to understand what I am saying half the time: Despite the fact that we speak the same language, most of what I say seems to be misunderstood. For example, last night I tried to order a vodka and orange juice at a pub. The man asked me four times what I was saying before I finally picked up a little bottle of juice to use as a visual aid. It turned out to be a bottle of tonic.... but whatever, at least I got mix. Later the same night, I asked a guy if he had seen my coat. His reply, 'It doesn't matter, the pub's closed, you won't have time to drink it'.
2. Electric showers: It seems to me that this would be a bad combination....
3. Carpet in the bathroom: It's just scuzzy. And the orange shade of our carpet doesn't make it any less revolting.
4. Birthday cakes: When it is your birthday YOU are expected to provide the sweets. Why should I have to bring my own birthday cake for everyone else to enjoy???
5. Rounds: Where I come from, there are three reasons why someone buys you a drink - (a) it's your birthday; (b) they owe you money so pay in drinks instead; or (c) they want to sleep with you. Here people just buy all their friends drinks. Unfortunately this means that you are also expected to provide drinks for everyone.
6. Sweets: They do not sell Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I think this is just an atrocity to human kind. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups should be available globally.
7. Closing Time: Shops close at 6pm almost every day of the week (except they close earlier on Sundays and are sometimes open late Thursdays or on special occasions). This doesn't make a lot of sense because people who have jobs, and can thus afford the goods being sold at said shops, are usually at work during opening hours.... I'm lucky if I'm home by 6 most days, which sucks if I need anything from say, Superdrug or The Gap. And it's not like I even come from a booming Canadian metropolis. The shops in my hometown were open later than in London, one of the biggest cities in the world.
8. Americano: Regular coffee here is referred to as Americano. I refuse to call it by this name because (a) American's did not invent coffee and (b) I know they are thinking 'Oh how cute the American girl is buying American coffee. If that's the case, it should be called Canadiano.
9. American Television: Maybe this has something to do with copyright laws or something, I don't know... but most American television shows are aired here, just MONTHS after they originally air in the U.S. This means that I now have to catch up on my favourites (AHEM LOST) via You Tube (or invest in satellite television). However, American Idol 2008, can air here 2 days after it is broadcast in the U.S.
10. The Kerb: I don't understand this, because it's the same pronunciation phonetically, but CURB is spelt 'kerb'.
1. Nobody seems to understand what I am saying half the time: Despite the fact that we speak the same language, most of what I say seems to be misunderstood. For example, last night I tried to order a vodka and orange juice at a pub. The man asked me four times what I was saying before I finally picked up a little bottle of juice to use as a visual aid. It turned out to be a bottle of tonic.... but whatever, at least I got mix. Later the same night, I asked a guy if he had seen my coat. His reply, 'It doesn't matter, the pub's closed, you won't have time to drink it'.
2. Electric showers: It seems to me that this would be a bad combination....
3. Carpet in the bathroom: It's just scuzzy. And the orange shade of our carpet doesn't make it any less revolting.
4. Birthday cakes: When it is your birthday YOU are expected to provide the sweets. Why should I have to bring my own birthday cake for everyone else to enjoy???
5. Rounds: Where I come from, there are three reasons why someone buys you a drink - (a) it's your birthday; (b) they owe you money so pay in drinks instead; or (c) they want to sleep with you. Here people just buy all their friends drinks. Unfortunately this means that you are also expected to provide drinks for everyone.
6. Sweets: They do not sell Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I think this is just an atrocity to human kind. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups should be available globally.
7. Closing Time: Shops close at 6pm almost every day of the week (except they close earlier on Sundays and are sometimes open late Thursdays or on special occasions). This doesn't make a lot of sense because people who have jobs, and can thus afford the goods being sold at said shops, are usually at work during opening hours.... I'm lucky if I'm home by 6 most days, which sucks if I need anything from say, Superdrug or The Gap. And it's not like I even come from a booming Canadian metropolis. The shops in my hometown were open later than in London, one of the biggest cities in the world.
8. Americano: Regular coffee here is referred to as Americano. I refuse to call it by this name because (a) American's did not invent coffee and (b) I know they are thinking 'Oh how cute the American girl is buying American coffee. If that's the case, it should be called Canadiano.
9. American Television: Maybe this has something to do with copyright laws or something, I don't know... but most American television shows are aired here, just MONTHS after they originally air in the U.S. This means that I now have to catch up on my favourites (AHEM LOST) via You Tube (or invest in satellite television). However, American Idol 2008, can air here 2 days after it is broadcast in the U.S.
10. The Kerb: I don't understand this, because it's the same pronunciation phonetically, but CURB is spelt 'kerb'.
Friday, April 18, 2008
This is the Hardest Story....
I read this book along time ago.... 'He's Just Not That Into You'. I think every single girl should read this book. Not only is it hilarious but it really gives the kick in the pants I think a lot of us need.... That said, Greg quotes a girl in this book that I swear, if he had actually called me and interviewed me, could be me:
'My friends all say I should stop talking to him, but I think he misses me, and I like that. I miss him. I feel if I stay in touch with him, it will remind him of how great I am, and eventually he will realize that we should be together again.'
So, I have this guy in my life. He's been in my life for years.... we've been friends, we've been lovers, we've fought.... somehow he always keeps coming back into the picture. And now, even though I have moved to another country on another continent, I still keep hearing from him, on a regular basis. My friends think he's an ass... and I know, deep down, that we have no future together. But part of me likes the continuous contact because it does make me feel like he misses me and wants me. The truth is, I think he misses having a no-strings (ahem) fling with the girl who comes at his beck and call. I think it's really more a matter of, 'if I have nobody else, I can always get back with Jennie'. And really, is that who I want to be?
If this were one of my friends I would say drop that loser, get a grip on reality, and find a man who appreciates you.
So why is it that, when it comes to my life, I can't follow my own advice?
'This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory, No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love, Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life, But not together.' (happy ending - mika)
'My friends all say I should stop talking to him, but I think he misses me, and I like that. I miss him. I feel if I stay in touch with him, it will remind him of how great I am, and eventually he will realize that we should be together again.'
So, I have this guy in my life. He's been in my life for years.... we've been friends, we've been lovers, we've fought.... somehow he always keeps coming back into the picture. And now, even though I have moved to another country on another continent, I still keep hearing from him, on a regular basis. My friends think he's an ass... and I know, deep down, that we have no future together. But part of me likes the continuous contact because it does make me feel like he misses me and wants me. The truth is, I think he misses having a no-strings (ahem) fling with the girl who comes at his beck and call. I think it's really more a matter of, 'if I have nobody else, I can always get back with Jennie'. And really, is that who I want to be?
If this were one of my friends I would say drop that loser, get a grip on reality, and find a man who appreciates you.
So why is it that, when it comes to my life, I can't follow my own advice?
'This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory, No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love, Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life, But not together.' (happy ending - mika)
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Weird Things I Have Seen in the Last Month
Here are some things that I have seen over the past month that actually made me stop and stare:
1. Stir-up Pants. On Sale. In a store selling current fashions. I almost bought them, just because. And really, stir-up pants make a lot of sense when you consider the boots over jeans trend.
2. A man kissing an owl. Although I generally don't like birds, I do think owls are quite lovely. Not enough to attempt to play tonsil hockey with one. Nor say things like 'come to daddy' or 'daddy loves you'. I was somewhat disturbed by the crazy man and his owls.
3. Today I saw a girl walking down the street in pantyhose and what I can only describe as a t-shirt. Not only was the shirt too short to pair with sheer tights (leggins, maybe, but not sheer tights) but the tights did not fit correctly. You know when the crotch of the tights doesn't actually come up to your crotch.... well that is what was happening here. I should not be able to see the crotch seams of your tights when you are walking down the street.
4. Snow. This might not seem unusual, to a Canadian, except for the fact that it did not snow here until late March. Also, I believe I caused this snow (!!!) when I said to [my true love] 'This is the first winter I have not had snow' only days before. Later he remarked to me that he had thought of me saying that when he saw the snow, so I think it's a good sign for the future of our relationship that he thinks about me in his free time;)
5. On this snow day (and by snow I mean just a few flakes....) it was quite cold. So I ventured off to town in full on snow gear (sweater, coat, mittens, boots). As I am strutting down the street freezing my nipples off, these three girls appear on the sidewalk dressed for what I can only imagine is a night out in Miami in the middle of August. Short sleeveless dresses with NO tights and NO coat. Needless to say they were shivering (duh!!!! it's friggin' snowing!) and then, in this weird apparel, popped into a pub (at 2 in the afternoon) where there CLUB WEAR would be very obviously out of place. At least put on a coat....
6. On one visit to the local pub, we spotted this (older) woman wearing a rolling stones t-shirt and a short skirt dancing around trying to pick up men.... At one point she was sitting on the picnic bench with her legs SPREAD out.... Ermmmmm........ she did get kicked out of the pub.
7. Tim Hortons.... in the middle of freaking London!!!! This sighting was followed by a photoshoot and a lot of passerbys staring at the freakish Canadians who were going wild over a self-serve Tim Hortons in a Spar convenience store.
1. Stir-up Pants. On Sale. In a store selling current fashions. I almost bought them, just because. And really, stir-up pants make a lot of sense when you consider the boots over jeans trend.
2. A man kissing an owl. Although I generally don't like birds, I do think owls are quite lovely. Not enough to attempt to play tonsil hockey with one. Nor say things like 'come to daddy' or 'daddy loves you'. I was somewhat disturbed by the crazy man and his owls.
3. Today I saw a girl walking down the street in pantyhose and what I can only describe as a t-shirt. Not only was the shirt too short to pair with sheer tights (leggins, maybe, but not sheer tights) but the tights did not fit correctly. You know when the crotch of the tights doesn't actually come up to your crotch.... well that is what was happening here. I should not be able to see the crotch seams of your tights when you are walking down the street.
4. Snow. This might not seem unusual, to a Canadian, except for the fact that it did not snow here until late March. Also, I believe I caused this snow (!!!) when I said to [my true love] 'This is the first winter I have not had snow' only days before. Later he remarked to me that he had thought of me saying that when he saw the snow, so I think it's a good sign for the future of our relationship that he thinks about me in his free time;)
5. On this snow day (and by snow I mean just a few flakes....) it was quite cold. So I ventured off to town in full on snow gear (sweater, coat, mittens, boots). As I am strutting down the street freezing my nipples off, these three girls appear on the sidewalk dressed for what I can only imagine is a night out in Miami in the middle of August. Short sleeveless dresses with NO tights and NO coat. Needless to say they were shivering (duh!!!! it's friggin' snowing!) and then, in this weird apparel, popped into a pub (at 2 in the afternoon) where there CLUB WEAR would be very obviously out of place. At least put on a coat....
6. On one visit to the local pub, we spotted this (older) woman wearing a rolling stones t-shirt and a short skirt dancing around trying to pick up men.... At one point she was sitting on the picnic bench with her legs SPREAD out.... Ermmmmm........ she did get kicked out of the pub.
7. Tim Hortons.... in the middle of freaking London!!!! This sighting was followed by a photoshoot and a lot of passerbys staring at the freakish Canadians who were going wild over a self-serve Tim Hortons in a Spar convenience store.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Signs That I Have Had Way Too Much To Drink
When you see these things starting to occur.... please cut me off:
- As with most people, the more drinks I consume, the more information about myself I feel the need to divulge. This generally involves telling virtual strangers all my intimate secrets. I can hear myself doing it, but I can't stop. This is made worse by the fact that my volume tends to rise with each sip.
- Generally I do not use a lot of swear words. I think they sound moronic. However, when I get a few drinks in it becomes necessary to use at least one swear word in every sentence that comes out of my mouth. This might be why people who have never met me sober, think I am a real div.
- Ahhhh the wobbling. Now, I probably think I am doing a sexy strut around the bar. It's more likely I am stumbling all over the place. Things in my pathway tend to get knocked about. This is why I usually try to (A) remain seated or (B) hit the dance floor where I can prop myself up against some horny bloke.
- I get a bit stroppy. Normally I am quite passive. I let things slide. When I'm drinking I am unable to let things go. On one more memorable occasion I shoved a boy I had been seeing across a bar. Another time I threw a drink in a guy's face (in all fairness, he was an ass) which almost resulted in a cat fight with a girl who was standing nearby. Other times I just stomp off and won't talk to anyone, which is probably the safer version of the drunken strop.
- Smoking. This is a throwback to days when I smoked a lot of, ermmm, substances. And the days when I always smoked several ciggies while drinking on a regular basis. I rarely do it these days, except when I've had too much vodka and am pissed off at someone.
- I am a bit flirty, which I rarely am in my sober life. A boy once told me that I flirted with everyone I saw. I think he was a bit jealous, but not far off from the truth. I can be a bit of a flirt when drinking. This is probably because, when I have been drinking in excess, I think everyone loves me. Why wouldn't they? At times the flirting has landed me in hot water.....
- I don't always think things through properly. This has resulted in some moments that must be kept in the vault, only to shudder over from time to time with my bestest friends.
- I am not a drunk dialier... but I am a drunk texter and MSNer. Sometimes I luck out, my messages are so distorted that they are unreadable. Other times I send perfectly clear declarations of love or hatred, whichever the case may be. While everyone has been the victim of these messages from time to time, there is one person who seems to get the bulk of them. Luckily, he takes it in stride.... I'm not sure I would put up with it for 5 years.
- As with most people, the more drinks I consume, the more information about myself I feel the need to divulge. This generally involves telling virtual strangers all my intimate secrets. I can hear myself doing it, but I can't stop. This is made worse by the fact that my volume tends to rise with each sip.
- Generally I do not use a lot of swear words. I think they sound moronic. However, when I get a few drinks in it becomes necessary to use at least one swear word in every sentence that comes out of my mouth. This might be why people who have never met me sober, think I am a real div.
- Ahhhh the wobbling. Now, I probably think I am doing a sexy strut around the bar. It's more likely I am stumbling all over the place. Things in my pathway tend to get knocked about. This is why I usually try to (A) remain seated or (B) hit the dance floor where I can prop myself up against some horny bloke.
- I get a bit stroppy. Normally I am quite passive. I let things slide. When I'm drinking I am unable to let things go. On one more memorable occasion I shoved a boy I had been seeing across a bar. Another time I threw a drink in a guy's face (in all fairness, he was an ass) which almost resulted in a cat fight with a girl who was standing nearby. Other times I just stomp off and won't talk to anyone, which is probably the safer version of the drunken strop.
- Smoking. This is a throwback to days when I smoked a lot of, ermmm, substances. And the days when I always smoked several ciggies while drinking on a regular basis. I rarely do it these days, except when I've had too much vodka and am pissed off at someone.
- I am a bit flirty, which I rarely am in my sober life. A boy once told me that I flirted with everyone I saw. I think he was a bit jealous, but not far off from the truth. I can be a bit of a flirt when drinking. This is probably because, when I have been drinking in excess, I think everyone loves me. Why wouldn't they? At times the flirting has landed me in hot water.....
- I don't always think things through properly. This has resulted in some moments that must be kept in the vault, only to shudder over from time to time with my bestest friends.
- I am not a drunk dialier... but I am a drunk texter and MSNer. Sometimes I luck out, my messages are so distorted that they are unreadable. Other times I send perfectly clear declarations of love or hatred, whichever the case may be. While everyone has been the victim of these messages from time to time, there is one person who seems to get the bulk of them. Luckily, he takes it in stride.... I'm not sure I would put up with it for 5 years.
My All Time Favourite Movies
Most people probably wouldn't peg me as the sappy, romantic type but my taste in movies may point to the contrary.... deep, deep down, I do have a softer side;) Favourite movies of all time:
1. Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken - Most people have never actually heard of this movie. It's about a girl with no real family who runs away and becomes a diving showgirl. Then she is STRUCK BLIND, faces all sorts of obstacles, and then triumphantly returns to the diving arena once again. It really is an inspirational story.... We found it on a trip to Video Visions circa 1992 and I proceeded to watch it over and over on a snow day until it was confiscated from the VCR. A few years later I found a copy on a clearance rack at Shopper's Drug Mart, much to my family's chagrin.
2. Pretty Woman - I first saw Pretty Woman a bajillion years ago when my cousins brought it over to watch while they were baby-sitting. Back then it had an R rating. Today it would probably be considered PG13. Our cousins made us run up stairs during all the 'dirty' parts. This movie makes me want to be a prostitute.... if only to be whisked off into the sunset by Richard Gere and his millions. Probably not an accurate depiction of the world of prostitution, with the exception of Julia's thigh high boots....
3. Dirty Dancing - I learned all my dance moves from this movie.... hahaha I have seen this movie so many times, I could act out the entire sequence word for word. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
4. Bridget Jones' Diary - I think this movie most resembles my life (minus Hugh Grant and Colin Firth (or any blokes for that matter) duking it out for my love). Like Bridget, I am fat, clumsy, and have a love life a carrot wouldn't envy. But, I can laugh about it, at least!
5. Chicago - I am a musical junky. I love belting out the soundtrack (much more appreciated in my living room than in a West End theatre). This movie also reignited my love affair with Richard Gere. He just doesn't know it yet.
6. Jerry Maguire - I used to be a big Tom Cruise fan (now I would really enjoy just giving him a good slap) and this was my favourite Tom Cruise movie. I had dreams about Tom for months afterwards. Then he made Vanilla Sky.... and a whole host of other crap movies.
7. Napoleon Dynamite - This movie is insane!!! Some people don't get Napoleon, but I think it's brilliant. Plus, it encompasses my favourite era - big hair and pouffy sleeved dresses. Love it.
1. Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken - Most people have never actually heard of this movie. It's about a girl with no real family who runs away and becomes a diving showgirl. Then she is STRUCK BLIND, faces all sorts of obstacles, and then triumphantly returns to the diving arena once again. It really is an inspirational story.... We found it on a trip to Video Visions circa 1992 and I proceeded to watch it over and over on a snow day until it was confiscated from the VCR. A few years later I found a copy on a clearance rack at Shopper's Drug Mart, much to my family's chagrin.
2. Pretty Woman - I first saw Pretty Woman a bajillion years ago when my cousins brought it over to watch while they were baby-sitting. Back then it had an R rating. Today it would probably be considered PG13. Our cousins made us run up stairs during all the 'dirty' parts. This movie makes me want to be a prostitute.... if only to be whisked off into the sunset by Richard Gere and his millions. Probably not an accurate depiction of the world of prostitution, with the exception of Julia's thigh high boots....
3. Dirty Dancing - I learned all my dance moves from this movie.... hahaha I have seen this movie so many times, I could act out the entire sequence word for word. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
4. Bridget Jones' Diary - I think this movie most resembles my life (minus Hugh Grant and Colin Firth (or any blokes for that matter) duking it out for my love). Like Bridget, I am fat, clumsy, and have a love life a carrot wouldn't envy. But, I can laugh about it, at least!
5. Chicago - I am a musical junky. I love belting out the soundtrack (much more appreciated in my living room than in a West End theatre). This movie also reignited my love affair with Richard Gere. He just doesn't know it yet.
6. Jerry Maguire - I used to be a big Tom Cruise fan (now I would really enjoy just giving him a good slap) and this was my favourite Tom Cruise movie. I had dreams about Tom for months afterwards. Then he made Vanilla Sky.... and a whole host of other crap movies.
7. Napoleon Dynamite - This movie is insane!!! Some people don't get Napoleon, but I think it's brilliant. Plus, it encompasses my favourite era - big hair and pouffy sleeved dresses. Love it.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
an update
It seems my neighbours (mentioned in my blog a few weeks ago) have cleared out....
Maybe they did read my blog.
Maybe they did read my blog.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Perfect Man
After years of dating/entertaining/sleeping with the wrong men... I have compiled a list of qualities that I would like in my perfect man....
- A nice head of hair (this is almost impossible to find in England, where the bald gene has seemingly taken over). I would also like to be able to run my fingers through it, not flinch in pain when I am literally scraped by your stiff hair (too much product, anyone?)
- The ability to dress himself, without any female influence, in clothes that are from this decade and sexy. Once a guy showed up for a date in tapered jeans..... I never saw him again. If only that were the WORST fashion victim (flashback to boy in purple shorts, made of like a windsuit material, and no shirt; and I still slept with him (when I was younger and stupider!!!! But still not in the 80s, when these shorts were in style).
- The body of Cristiano Ronaldo.... not grossly muscly, but clearly fit. If I were waking up next to that every morning.... lemme tell ya!!!!
- Nice teeth. I really can't say anything about this one. It's just a hang up.
- A mostly drug-free lifestyle. Maybe he has experimented with drugs in his past, but at this stage in his life no longer needs drugs to function normally. This is not to say the odd night out with the boys is unacceptable. Rather, the perfect man can have sex OR EVEN A CONVERSATION without getting stoned beforehand. Furthermore, unless he is some sort of a collector, the perfect man does not have in excess of 3 pipes, bongs, or other drug paraphenalia. After your very early 20s, being a pot head is no longer normal. The perfect man will not take any hard drugs, either. I would like to have the perfect children.
- A career. There are many things I do not consider to be a career. You may think this makes me a snob. I think it makes me realistic about my financial security. The perfect man will have spent just as long as I have in Uni to get where he is in the world and will make more money than me.
- A brain. I would like to be able to hold an intelligent conversation with my man beyond one or two major interests of his. Talking about scuba diving for two hours doesn't cut it.
- A Bit of Fight. I do not want to date a doormat. I like a man who can spar with me!!! This is not to say that I want to be beaten up by a man, but rather I would like to be with someone who challenges me, rather than lets me have it my way ALL THE TIME. It's nice to get what you want. It's nicer to know you worked for it!
- The perfect man will not be a cheater. There are more cheaters out there than you think! I know this because I have been with many of them. They love their girlfriend but, apparently, not enough to avoid looking in other directions. Some 'cheaters' never actually do anything physical with another woman, but instead send sneaky messages over the internet for months on end to other women telling them how much they want to have sex with them. This is even worse. It tells me that not only is your man slimey.... he's also spineless. The perfect man will know that I am more than enough for him and won't cast his eyes or his penis elsewhere.
- He will be at least 6 feet tall.... Let's face it, I am a big girl and I want a man who balances me out.
- That said, he will be proportionate. I don't want a tall man with a small dick!!!!!
- A sense of humor. The perfect man and I will have intelligent conversations, but we can also sit down and have a laugh at a stupid television show or joke. He will also get my sense of humor.... which is questionable at times.
- The perfect man will be well-travelled and up for much more. We will go to exotic places together and, when we have the perfect children, we will take them to fun and interesting places as well.
If you see this man, please contact me ASAP. I am not as young as I used to be.
- A nice head of hair (this is almost impossible to find in England, where the bald gene has seemingly taken over). I would also like to be able to run my fingers through it, not flinch in pain when I am literally scraped by your stiff hair (too much product, anyone?)
- The ability to dress himself, without any female influence, in clothes that are from this decade and sexy. Once a guy showed up for a date in tapered jeans..... I never saw him again. If only that were the WORST fashion victim (flashback to boy in purple shorts, made of like a windsuit material, and no shirt; and I still slept with him (when I was younger and stupider!!!! But still not in the 80s, when these shorts were in style).
- The body of Cristiano Ronaldo.... not grossly muscly, but clearly fit. If I were waking up next to that every morning.... lemme tell ya!!!!
- Nice teeth. I really can't say anything about this one. It's just a hang up.
- A mostly drug-free lifestyle. Maybe he has experimented with drugs in his past, but at this stage in his life no longer needs drugs to function normally. This is not to say the odd night out with the boys is unacceptable. Rather, the perfect man can have sex OR EVEN A CONVERSATION without getting stoned beforehand. Furthermore, unless he is some sort of a collector, the perfect man does not have in excess of 3 pipes, bongs, or other drug paraphenalia. After your very early 20s, being a pot head is no longer normal. The perfect man will not take any hard drugs, either. I would like to have the perfect children.
- A career. There are many things I do not consider to be a career. You may think this makes me a snob. I think it makes me realistic about my financial security. The perfect man will have spent just as long as I have in Uni to get where he is in the world and will make more money than me.
- A brain. I would like to be able to hold an intelligent conversation with my man beyond one or two major interests of his. Talking about scuba diving for two hours doesn't cut it.
- A Bit of Fight. I do not want to date a doormat. I like a man who can spar with me!!! This is not to say that I want to be beaten up by a man, but rather I would like to be with someone who challenges me, rather than lets me have it my way ALL THE TIME. It's nice to get what you want. It's nicer to know you worked for it!
- The perfect man will not be a cheater. There are more cheaters out there than you think! I know this because I have been with many of them. They love their girlfriend but, apparently, not enough to avoid looking in other directions. Some 'cheaters' never actually do anything physical with another woman, but instead send sneaky messages over the internet for months on end to other women telling them how much they want to have sex with them. This is even worse. It tells me that not only is your man slimey.... he's also spineless. The perfect man will know that I am more than enough for him and won't cast his eyes or his penis elsewhere.
- He will be at least 6 feet tall.... Let's face it, I am a big girl and I want a man who balances me out.
- That said, he will be proportionate. I don't want a tall man with a small dick!!!!!
- A sense of humor. The perfect man and I will have intelligent conversations, but we can also sit down and have a laugh at a stupid television show or joke. He will also get my sense of humor.... which is questionable at times.
- The perfect man will be well-travelled and up for much more. We will go to exotic places together and, when we have the perfect children, we will take them to fun and interesting places as well.
If you see this man, please contact me ASAP. I am not as young as I used to be.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Things Men Need to Understand About Heels
A man once complained about women who wear trainers with their 'otherwise pristene' work outfit on the tube. He believes all women should commute in sky high stilettos. Here is my response to him.
1. Generally (and in most aspects of my life, since I am taller than the average female) I wear flat shoes or boots when commuting. Occasionally, I will pop on my trainers and change into these cute black wedges that I keep under my desk for such days. This is not because I want to ruin an otherwise fashionable outfit. Nor is it because I really like trainers. This is because I would like to get to work by walking at a reasonable pace without sore feet or a broken ankle.
2. From my flat's door to my classroom door I must walk ten minutes (at a very brisk pace, considering I am always late) to the train station, dodge random stoppers, sprint up 3 flights of stairs, hop on a train, hop off a train, dodge more commuters, sprint down one flight of stairs, meander through a short corridor, sprint up another flight of stairs, grab a coffee, hop on a train, hop off a train whilst shoving morons out of my way, walk briskly down a train platform, up another flight of stairs, through the station, out the door, onto a bus, stand on the bus (because there are never any seats), hop off the bus, and walk 5 more minutes to my classroom. Then I must stand on my feet ALL DAY. Then repeat the same process over again. Does this sound like a journey fit for high heeled shoes?
3. Have you spent even 5 minutes in heels? Didn't think so.
4. Once I wore these high-heeled Italian leather boots to work a half day. By the time I got home I had to peel my socks off. They were stuck to my feet. WITH BLOOD.
5. Do you think I care what you think I look like?
1. Generally (and in most aspects of my life, since I am taller than the average female) I wear flat shoes or boots when commuting. Occasionally, I will pop on my trainers and change into these cute black wedges that I keep under my desk for such days. This is not because I want to ruin an otherwise fashionable outfit. Nor is it because I really like trainers. This is because I would like to get to work by walking at a reasonable pace without sore feet or a broken ankle.
2. From my flat's door to my classroom door I must walk ten minutes (at a very brisk pace, considering I am always late) to the train station, dodge random stoppers, sprint up 3 flights of stairs, hop on a train, hop off a train, dodge more commuters, sprint down one flight of stairs, meander through a short corridor, sprint up another flight of stairs, grab a coffee, hop on a train, hop off a train whilst shoving morons out of my way, walk briskly down a train platform, up another flight of stairs, through the station, out the door, onto a bus, stand on the bus (because there are never any seats), hop off the bus, and walk 5 more minutes to my classroom. Then I must stand on my feet ALL DAY. Then repeat the same process over again. Does this sound like a journey fit for high heeled shoes?
3. Have you spent even 5 minutes in heels? Didn't think so.
4. Once I wore these high-heeled Italian leather boots to work a half day. By the time I got home I had to peel my socks off. They were stuck to my feet. WITH BLOOD.
5. Do you think I care what you think I look like?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Why Soundproofing Blocks of Flats is a Good Idea
Some people might think it is mean to write about your neighbours. But I doubt mine will ever read this, so I am doing it anyway!!! These people don't live next door to me, but rather directly above me, thus I have much insight into their most private affairs. This is not by choice, but rather a disadvantage of living in a block of flats that I believe was meant to be a two story house. Hence the complete and utter lack of soundproofing. That said, there are two sets of people who live above my flat though, with the exception of ONE party in December, I have never seen or heard the other member of this lovely block of flats.
I call this entry - Why My Neighbours Annoy Me:
#1 - The night we moved in (after living in a bed and breakfast and sharing a room for a month) we hear a knock at our door. Our landlord opens the door to reveal an older man who looks like he has just crawled out of the grave. Seriously. The man proceeds to ask us to keep the noise down as we have woken his small children (seriously, he could be my grandfather) with all our banging. Our landlord tells him off in a screaming exchange. That night I dream I am being murdered by the old man.
#2 - Despite his request for utter and complete silence. The ammount of NOISE from their flat is ridiculous. For some reason they stomp around, run up and down the stairs, and have replaced talking with screaming. Not to mention the two small children...... which brings me to my next point.
#3 - These children do not just cry. They SCREAM. At the top of their lungs. For hours on end. Perhaps this is because mum's response to their screaming is to scream back at them.
#4 - They leave their massive stroller right in front of the entrance to the flat. They've seen me, they know I'm not that thin.
#5 - They have the grossest sex in the universe. Because I live directly below them, I have had the unfortunate opportunity to hear them copulating on several occassions. This is wrong on so many levels. First of all, the girl is about my age. The man is about my granddads.... Enough said. Secondly, they make gross noises! Like grunting, and panting, and yuck yuck yuck!!!! The first time I heard it I thought the old man was dying! Most disturbing of all, they sometimes communicate with the children DURING sex. Once mum screamed out (in the middle of the grunting and moaning) 'Mummy's ok, Mummy's ok'. I had a hysterectomy that day.
I call this entry - Why My Neighbours Annoy Me:
#1 - The night we moved in (after living in a bed and breakfast and sharing a room for a month) we hear a knock at our door. Our landlord opens the door to reveal an older man who looks like he has just crawled out of the grave. Seriously. The man proceeds to ask us to keep the noise down as we have woken his small children (seriously, he could be my grandfather) with all our banging. Our landlord tells him off in a screaming exchange. That night I dream I am being murdered by the old man.
#2 - Despite his request for utter and complete silence. The ammount of NOISE from their flat is ridiculous. For some reason they stomp around, run up and down the stairs, and have replaced talking with screaming. Not to mention the two small children...... which brings me to my next point.
#3 - These children do not just cry. They SCREAM. At the top of their lungs. For hours on end. Perhaps this is because mum's response to their screaming is to scream back at them.
#4 - They leave their massive stroller right in front of the entrance to the flat. They've seen me, they know I'm not that thin.
#5 - They have the grossest sex in the universe. Because I live directly below them, I have had the unfortunate opportunity to hear them copulating on several occassions. This is wrong on so many levels. First of all, the girl is about my age. The man is about my granddads.... Enough said. Secondly, they make gross noises! Like grunting, and panting, and yuck yuck yuck!!!! The first time I heard it I thought the old man was dying! Most disturbing of all, they sometimes communicate with the children DURING sex. Once mum screamed out (in the middle of the grunting and moaning) 'Mummy's ok, Mummy's ok'. I had a hysterectomy that day.
Friday, March 21, 2008
A Beginners Guide to Online Dating
Some tips for those of you who are fed up with trying to find dates whilst wandering the mean streets and have resorted to online dating.
There are many types of men who use online dating sites. Here are some of the more noteworthy:
The Newbie - The newbie has only recently signed up for online dating and is still not 100 % sold. He needs to be treated with the utmost care, as he is easily frightened. He may not be ready for a face to face meeting for weeks.
The Horny Guy - The online dating world is overpopulated by the horny guy. This man is looking for one thing and one thing only. Sex. Sometimes he will let you know right away (i.e. 'Hello, my name is _________. You alright? What's your favourite position?). At other times the horny guy will attempt to disguise his true intentions while feeling you out with sly innuendo.
The Single Dad - The single dad has usually only recently broken up with his significant other and has one, two, or even three children. His profile usually dedicates a paragraph to how much he loves his children and most of his profile pictures showcase his bundles of joy. If the single dad has had a rough break up a paragraph may often be included letting all prospective girlfriends know what a bitch his ex is and how she has ruined his life.
The Chav - The chav usually has children but does not admit it. Actually, he might admit it, but unless you speak chav, you will not be able to read his profile.
The Cynic - The cynic has recently been through a series of bad relationships. He often blames women for his dating problems and includes a long list of the qualities he does not appreciate in a woman. He will include phrases like 'You women are all the same' in his initial ice-breaking chats which are also peppered with other unfriendly references towards the female species. He will be offended when you decline his request for a date.
The Foreigner - The Foreigner is a common species on the online dating sites. He speaks limited English and sometimes his messages are difficult to interpret. He usually comes on very strong from the beginning, leaving you to wonder if he is looking for a date or citizenship through marriage.
The Model - This is a man who puts up shots of 'himself' looking like he is posing for a catalogue. He will write a fairly obnoxious profile to go with it. The model will never ever meet you face to face.
The Penpal - The penpal is not looking for a real girlfriend. Rather he is interested in a cyber girlfriend to meet for chats online at regular intervals. It is quite possible that the Penpal is too fat to leave his home, so has no other choice.
The Template Guy - This guy has written a long winded initial contact message that could be the opening pages of a romance novel. Problem is, he sends this same message to every girl with a pulse on the site. Sometimes, if he's forgotten, he will send you the same message more than once.
The Stalker - The stalker believes he knows you personally and intimately after looking at your profile. He will send you an initial message saying how wonderful you are and how he is the man you are looking for. When you don't respond, he will periodically send you other messages asking how you have been or insinuating that you must be busy lately since he has not heard from you. The stalker will inform you how much he likes you, even though you've never spoken.
The Long-Term Guy - This man believes that, because you have accepted a date with him, you are now in a relationship. Throughout the date he will make references to things you will do in the future (i.e. 'maybe Saturday we can meet my best friend ________ and then next week we'll head down to Leeds'). This is before you even get through your appetizer.
The Phony Romantic - The phony romantic will loudly declare his romantic intentions in his profile (i.e. 'for a first date I will take a lady on a romantic midnite picnic and then a walk by the water' or 'my lady better have a passport bc I like to jet off to Paris or Rome for dinner'). He will probably take you for a drink at his local pub then try to sleep with you.
The Sugar Daddy - The sugar daddy is a 40 + man who only messages 20 year olds. He will tell you that he is young at heart, makes a six figure salary, and has homes in various cities around the world.
There are many types of men who use online dating sites. Here are some of the more noteworthy:
The Newbie - The newbie has only recently signed up for online dating and is still not 100 % sold. He needs to be treated with the utmost care, as he is easily frightened. He may not be ready for a face to face meeting for weeks.
The Horny Guy - The online dating world is overpopulated by the horny guy. This man is looking for one thing and one thing only. Sex. Sometimes he will let you know right away (i.e. 'Hello, my name is _________. You alright? What's your favourite position?). At other times the horny guy will attempt to disguise his true intentions while feeling you out with sly innuendo.
The Single Dad - The single dad has usually only recently broken up with his significant other and has one, two, or even three children. His profile usually dedicates a paragraph to how much he loves his children and most of his profile pictures showcase his bundles of joy. If the single dad has had a rough break up a paragraph may often be included letting all prospective girlfriends know what a bitch his ex is and how she has ruined his life.
The Chav - The chav usually has children but does not admit it. Actually, he might admit it, but unless you speak chav, you will not be able to read his profile.
The Cynic - The cynic has recently been through a series of bad relationships. He often blames women for his dating problems and includes a long list of the qualities he does not appreciate in a woman. He will include phrases like 'You women are all the same' in his initial ice-breaking chats which are also peppered with other unfriendly references towards the female species. He will be offended when you decline his request for a date.
The Foreigner - The Foreigner is a common species on the online dating sites. He speaks limited English and sometimes his messages are difficult to interpret. He usually comes on very strong from the beginning, leaving you to wonder if he is looking for a date or citizenship through marriage.
The Model - This is a man who puts up shots of 'himself' looking like he is posing for a catalogue. He will write a fairly obnoxious profile to go with it. The model will never ever meet you face to face.
The Penpal - The penpal is not looking for a real girlfriend. Rather he is interested in a cyber girlfriend to meet for chats online at regular intervals. It is quite possible that the Penpal is too fat to leave his home, so has no other choice.
The Template Guy - This guy has written a long winded initial contact message that could be the opening pages of a romance novel. Problem is, he sends this same message to every girl with a pulse on the site. Sometimes, if he's forgotten, he will send you the same message more than once.
The Stalker - The stalker believes he knows you personally and intimately after looking at your profile. He will send you an initial message saying how wonderful you are and how he is the man you are looking for. When you don't respond, he will periodically send you other messages asking how you have been or insinuating that you must be busy lately since he has not heard from you. The stalker will inform you how much he likes you, even though you've never spoken.
The Long-Term Guy - This man believes that, because you have accepted a date with him, you are now in a relationship. Throughout the date he will make references to things you will do in the future (i.e. 'maybe Saturday we can meet my best friend ________ and then next week we'll head down to Leeds'). This is before you even get through your appetizer.
The Phony Romantic - The phony romantic will loudly declare his romantic intentions in his profile (i.e. 'for a first date I will take a lady on a romantic midnite picnic and then a walk by the water' or 'my lady better have a passport bc I like to jet off to Paris or Rome for dinner'). He will probably take you for a drink at his local pub then try to sleep with you.
The Sugar Daddy - The sugar daddy is a 40 + man who only messages 20 year olds. He will tell you that he is young at heart, makes a six figure salary, and has homes in various cities around the world.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Things That Make Me Grind My Gears (The Short List)
1. When people stand on top of me in a queue, or just in general.
Exhibit A: I am leaning against a pillar at a tube station. There is loads of space as a tube has just come and taken the bulk of the crowd away. A group of women arrive and stand near me. By near me I mean on top of me. One lady hit me with her purse FOUR times and didn't notice once. Meanwhile, there is enough room to the right, left, and front of them for half an army. I felt like pushing her out of my way.
Exhibit B: I am standing in a queue. The man behind me is standing so close to me he is physically touching me. I inch forward to give myself some space. So does he. I inch forward again. So does he. At this point I am now practically standing on top of the person in front of me.
2. When people get off the train or an escalator and then just stop.
Inevitably they are going to glare at YOU when you run into them.
3. When people walk across the sidewalk in 5 across, forcing you to walk on the street.
Why should I get hit by a car because you are too lazy to move out of the way. When I am in a really bad mood I just plough through the middle. Just because I don't have any friends does not mean I should have to walk on the street with the cars.
4. When people have loud pointless conversations on their mobile in public places just to hear themselves speak.
I don't care what you bought at the Tesco, what you're making for supper for the next four weeks, or when you are giving your child a bath. Nor do I need a running commentary of everything that is happening on the bus/train/street. I don't care if your ex boyfriend is now dating someone else in India, which you only know because you are stalking him on facebook. Please hang up and call back when you don't have 400 people listening to every word you're saying.
5. When women do their make up on the bus/train.
Seriously? Get up 5 minutes earlier.
6. When people are playing their Ipods so loudly I can hear the music at the back of the bus.
Not only is it annoying, but the human ear was not designed to listen to music that loud. You are going to go deaf. I am glaring at you for your own good.
7. When men make rude remarks as you walk down the street.
Has this EVER worked?
8. When people swear excessively in public.
This does not include the odd swear word in a public venue. We're all guilty of that. I am talking about the people who insert a swear word after every single non swear word in their conversation. Do you think you sound cool?
9. When people spit.
There is nothing grosser than looking down on the sidewalk at a big wad of spit. If you cannot resist the urge to spit, please do it off to the side in the grass or something, so I don't have to look at it. Frankly it makes me want to vomit, and I don't think YOU want to see that.
10. When people stand on top of me and smoke.
Why should I have to move to avoid second hand smoke. If you must do it, please move off to the side.
11. When middle class white people try to act like 50 Cent.
Please note, that the older you get the sadder this syndrome becomes.
12. When people throw their garbage all over the train.
There is a bin after every other seat. Get off your lazy ass and put your garbage in it.
Exhibit A: I am leaning against a pillar at a tube station. There is loads of space as a tube has just come and taken the bulk of the crowd away. A group of women arrive and stand near me. By near me I mean on top of me. One lady hit me with her purse FOUR times and didn't notice once. Meanwhile, there is enough room to the right, left, and front of them for half an army. I felt like pushing her out of my way.
Exhibit B: I am standing in a queue. The man behind me is standing so close to me he is physically touching me. I inch forward to give myself some space. So does he. I inch forward again. So does he. At this point I am now practically standing on top of the person in front of me.
2. When people get off the train or an escalator and then just stop.
Inevitably they are going to glare at YOU when you run into them.
3. When people walk across the sidewalk in 5 across, forcing you to walk on the street.
Why should I get hit by a car because you are too lazy to move out of the way. When I am in a really bad mood I just plough through the middle. Just because I don't have any friends does not mean I should have to walk on the street with the cars.
4. When people have loud pointless conversations on their mobile in public places just to hear themselves speak.
I don't care what you bought at the Tesco, what you're making for supper for the next four weeks, or when you are giving your child a bath. Nor do I need a running commentary of everything that is happening on the bus/train/street. I don't care if your ex boyfriend is now dating someone else in India, which you only know because you are stalking him on facebook. Please hang up and call back when you don't have 400 people listening to every word you're saying.
5. When women do their make up on the bus/train.
Seriously? Get up 5 minutes earlier.
6. When people are playing their Ipods so loudly I can hear the music at the back of the bus.
Not only is it annoying, but the human ear was not designed to listen to music that loud. You are going to go deaf. I am glaring at you for your own good.
7. When men make rude remarks as you walk down the street.
Has this EVER worked?
8. When people swear excessively in public.
This does not include the odd swear word in a public venue. We're all guilty of that. I am talking about the people who insert a swear word after every single non swear word in their conversation. Do you think you sound cool?
9. When people spit.
There is nothing grosser than looking down on the sidewalk at a big wad of spit. If you cannot resist the urge to spit, please do it off to the side in the grass or something, so I don't have to look at it. Frankly it makes me want to vomit, and I don't think YOU want to see that.
10. When people stand on top of me and smoke.
Why should I have to move to avoid second hand smoke. If you must do it, please move off to the side.
11. When middle class white people try to act like 50 Cent.
Please note, that the older you get the sadder this syndrome becomes.
12. When people throw their garbage all over the train.
There is a bin after every other seat. Get off your lazy ass and put your garbage in it.
Friday, February 22, 2008
How Not to Get a Second Date with Me....
Dedicated to Christie, the one and only fan of my blog!!
- I thought this one was pretty well known, but apparently not: Do not talk excessively about your ex girlfriend. One comment about your ex girlfriend is fine. However if, by the end of the date, I know more about your ex girlfriend than you it starts to become obvious that you are not yet over her. Thus you cannot devote all your attention to me!!!
The only time I am really interested in hearing about your ex girlfriend is in this scenario: You, the boy I have been eyeing for several Thursdays and Fridays, casually mention an 'EX girlfriend' in a sentence. My reply, 'O really, and your current girlfriend......?'
- While telling a story about a friend who was involved in a serious accident, you use the phrase 'When I heard about the accident I rung him up and told him he deserved to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair'.
- You inform me of your dislike of every single person you have ever met. My flatmate, can't stand him. That Australian guy, what a loser. My coworkers, I hate them. This Canadian girl I went on a date with one time.....
- After I have spent an incredibly busy day teaching, sorting out children's arguments, and dealing with parents; then spend an hour on the tube to meet you for dinner at some pretentious London restaurant clearly intending to impress me with your net worth, you spend the entire night uttering phrases like, 'teachers never do any work', 'teaching is the easiest job in the world', and 'how can you be tired, you've only been teaching all day'. Yes, I am aware teaching isn't as difficult as pushing paper around a desk all day, but at least humour me.
- You refuse to take the tube ONE STOP to a restaurant because you don't want to have to come back for your car. This would be fine if it did not take 45 minutes to drive there in London traffic and then attempt to find somewhere to park. Did I mention I've been teaching all day and am hungry?
- When we finally do arrive at crappy restaurant, please just sit at the table the waiter leads us to. Do not ask to change tables THREE TIMES. Did I mention I was HUNGRY?
- If you do decide you want to have sex with me on the first date, you better make sure your damn good. At least if you wait, I may have developped an attachment to you before realising you were lame in the sack.
- Do not mention the other 56 Canadian girls you have dated. I don't want to be a notch on your Canadian girl belt. Note: This one only applies for dating in a foreign country:P
- Do not wear tapered jeans. No one wears tapered jeans. They are not cool.
- Do not bring flowers. Some girls like this. I think it's stupid on a first date. Then I have to carry them around for the whole crappy date. Really, if it's a crappy date, do I want a clear indicator that I am WITH you? No!!! I am already looking for my next date.
- Try to listen when I am speaking to you. The third time you ask me the SAME question, I begin to get annoyed.
- Do not plan our future before I even get through my appetizer. Some girls might find this charming, but phrases like 'I will take you to such and such a place some weekend' and 'maybe Saturday you can meet my friends' have me searching for the nearest exit. (However, this is acceptable if I am clearly into you and am already planning our wedding in my head).
- Do not ask the question ' Why doesn't a girl like you have a boyfriend already'? How do I answer that! 'Well.... I guess you should know now that I have a wretched personality and no one can stand to be with me. How about a second date?'
Will keep all my loving fans posted as the dating nightmare that is my life continues.
- I thought this one was pretty well known, but apparently not: Do not talk excessively about your ex girlfriend. One comment about your ex girlfriend is fine. However if, by the end of the date, I know more about your ex girlfriend than you it starts to become obvious that you are not yet over her. Thus you cannot devote all your attention to me!!!
The only time I am really interested in hearing about your ex girlfriend is in this scenario: You, the boy I have been eyeing for several Thursdays and Fridays, casually mention an 'EX girlfriend' in a sentence. My reply, 'O really, and your current girlfriend......?'
- While telling a story about a friend who was involved in a serious accident, you use the phrase 'When I heard about the accident I rung him up and told him he deserved to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair'.
- You inform me of your dislike of every single person you have ever met. My flatmate, can't stand him. That Australian guy, what a loser. My coworkers, I hate them. This Canadian girl I went on a date with one time.....
- After I have spent an incredibly busy day teaching, sorting out children's arguments, and dealing with parents; then spend an hour on the tube to meet you for dinner at some pretentious London restaurant clearly intending to impress me with your net worth, you spend the entire night uttering phrases like, 'teachers never do any work', 'teaching is the easiest job in the world', and 'how can you be tired, you've only been teaching all day'. Yes, I am aware teaching isn't as difficult as pushing paper around a desk all day, but at least humour me.
- You refuse to take the tube ONE STOP to a restaurant because you don't want to have to come back for your car. This would be fine if it did not take 45 minutes to drive there in London traffic and then attempt to find somewhere to park. Did I mention I've been teaching all day and am hungry?
- When we finally do arrive at crappy restaurant, please just sit at the table the waiter leads us to. Do not ask to change tables THREE TIMES. Did I mention I was HUNGRY?
- If you do decide you want to have sex with me on the first date, you better make sure your damn good. At least if you wait, I may have developped an attachment to you before realising you were lame in the sack.
- Do not mention the other 56 Canadian girls you have dated. I don't want to be a notch on your Canadian girl belt. Note: This one only applies for dating in a foreign country:P
- Do not wear tapered jeans. No one wears tapered jeans. They are not cool.
- Do not bring flowers. Some girls like this. I think it's stupid on a first date. Then I have to carry them around for the whole crappy date. Really, if it's a crappy date, do I want a clear indicator that I am WITH you? No!!! I am already looking for my next date.
- Try to listen when I am speaking to you. The third time you ask me the SAME question, I begin to get annoyed.
- Do not plan our future before I even get through my appetizer. Some girls might find this charming, but phrases like 'I will take you to such and such a place some weekend' and 'maybe Saturday you can meet my friends' have me searching for the nearest exit. (However, this is acceptable if I am clearly into you and am already planning our wedding in my head).
- Do not ask the question ' Why doesn't a girl like you have a boyfriend already'? How do I answer that! 'Well.... I guess you should know now that I have a wretched personality and no one can stand to be with me. How about a second date?'
Will keep all my loving fans posted as the dating nightmare that is my life continues.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
An English - Canadian Dictionary
Now that I have figured out what (most) of these strange English words mean, I thought I'd share some as a point of interest.
A mate is a friend. I thought only Australians said this, but apparently the English do as well.
If you are skint you have no money (which describes my present state in one simple word).
Crisps are chips and chips are french fries. Chips come in flavors like Prawn Cocktail (ew?).
A prawn is like a shrimp.
A bloke is a man/boy/guy. I think most Canadians know this one, but are unaware of how frequently it is used.
The phrase you alright? is the equivalent to What's Up? For the first month I was here, I thought people thought I looked unwell.
If someone says you are fit they think you are good looking. I am sure people thought I had terrible self esteem when I assured them that I was not fit (as in I do not exercise regularly).
A bird is a girl. It is also a bird.
Pants are underwear and consequently a dirty word to 8 year olds. However, I have a hard time referring to pants as trousers, their proper English name.
If someone is talking about your fanny they are not talking about your bum..... they are talking about your front bum.
A surgeon is a doctor, who may or may not perform actual surgeries and will refer you to the chemist for medicine.
Your local is your local pub or club.... the one near you you frequent most often.
Cheers encompases thank yous and see yous.
A full-stop is a period. A period is a menstrual cycle. Likewise a rubber is an eraser not a condom. These were two words that I quickly learned in the educational system.
Crosswalks, depending on how they are set up, have different names such as a Pelican Crossing and a Zebra Crossing. I am not sure why.
If you ring someone on their mobile you are calling them on their cell phone.
Trainers are sneakers and some places will not let you in if you are wearing them! hehe
People, other than my father, actually use the word shag.
The word proper is tossed in front of everything - i.e. proper shop. It means something along the lines of 'real'.
Cheeky is being funny.... in a good or bad way.
And now.... as I am absolutely knackered, I will have to continue this list another evening.
P.S. If you haven't already figured it out, knackered means tired.
A mate is a friend. I thought only Australians said this, but apparently the English do as well.
If you are skint you have no money (which describes my present state in one simple word).
Crisps are chips and chips are french fries. Chips come in flavors like Prawn Cocktail (ew?).
A prawn is like a shrimp.
A bloke is a man/boy/guy. I think most Canadians know this one, but are unaware of how frequently it is used.
The phrase you alright? is the equivalent to What's Up? For the first month I was here, I thought people thought I looked unwell.
If someone says you are fit they think you are good looking. I am sure people thought I had terrible self esteem when I assured them that I was not fit (as in I do not exercise regularly).
A bird is a girl. It is also a bird.
Pants are underwear and consequently a dirty word to 8 year olds. However, I have a hard time referring to pants as trousers, their proper English name.
If someone is talking about your fanny they are not talking about your bum..... they are talking about your front bum.
A surgeon is a doctor, who may or may not perform actual surgeries and will refer you to the chemist for medicine.
Your local is your local pub or club.... the one near you you frequent most often.
Cheers encompases thank yous and see yous.
A full-stop is a period. A period is a menstrual cycle. Likewise a rubber is an eraser not a condom. These were two words that I quickly learned in the educational system.
Crosswalks, depending on how they are set up, have different names such as a Pelican Crossing and a Zebra Crossing. I am not sure why.
If you ring someone on their mobile you are calling them on their cell phone.
Trainers are sneakers and some places will not let you in if you are wearing them! hehe
People, other than my father, actually use the word shag.
The word proper is tossed in front of everything - i.e. proper shop. It means something along the lines of 'real'.
Cheeky is being funny.... in a good or bad way.
And now.... as I am absolutely knackered, I will have to continue this list another evening.
P.S. If you haven't already figured it out, knackered means tired.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)