Try the Patience of Angels - Half Fat Version

... Feels weird.

I'm tired. Oh so very tired. I have no energy for vitriol or rants. I have no inclination for deep and meaningful thunks. I feel being flippant and irreverant would be grossly inappropriate. So I shall just say that it's very very cold and I'm glad I have thermal sheets and a good book. Tomorrow I go to uni and I've done only half the work I wanted to. I have not returned two calls today and I have low level background guilt. Not quite falling apart I think you'll agree but very definately not my usual perky self. I lied. It doesn't look like normal service has returned quite yet. Stay with me. I'll work it out.

lulu

Ugh! What a load of self obsessed drivel - I've a good mind to delete it all but I'm going to leave it there as a reminder of what happens when you get carried away with feeling sorry for yourself.

Thank goodness for my mates. I love you all and thank you for connecting my head with a wall and banging it until I saw sense again. Phew. Normal service has been resumed. Do not adjust your settings. Only next time, can we maybe moderate the intake of vodka and cointreau that goes along side such effcient therapy? Golly my head hurts.

Ok quick little post. It's Sunday morning. I'm still in bed on La Laptop. The sun is streaming in through the window and I am looking forward to going to mamas for dinner.

Some random things I like.... Smokey late night jazz, shoes, ebay, Allen keys, olives, choritzo, Sabatier knives, Dove bubblebath, candles, tweezers, flirting, PomKat ( Pomegrannet juice and vodkat vodka, yummy yummy), carboot sales, pants but not pants from car book sales, Re reading books, looking thigns up on wikipedia. The most recent look up was the difference between colons and semi colons as I'm not 100% sure when you should use a colon and when a semi colon is more appropriate. I can assure you, it is totally facinating!

And here are some nice words, slip, skin, drowsy, myriad, furtive, chortle, bucolic and sycophant.

And finally, I am going to succumb to the inevetable - and start thinking about buying some christmas presents. I have a very large family, both brothers have significant others and there are various neices and nephews who are too young to think of christmas as anything other than an excuse to legitimatly emotionally blackmail the parents into providing a smorgasboard of presents. In Chez Lulu this year however, we have agreed on a one gift rule and points will be awarded for originally and ingenuity on a budget of £10 only. As a family we have a rather nice habit of all pitching together in the kitchen on christmas day with everyone taking a course to prepare. Generally speaking, Lizzy and Richard do puddings (yes plural, you can have a choice of sloppy tiramisu, christmas cake that could rot your liver or trifle with so much booze, the fridge gets drunk just hosting it), either mama or I do "The Bird", Dad makes soup to start, Stuart is in charge of prepping veg. He rather likes making these wee fluffy potato things.

They are delicious. Everyone gets a bit merry and we fling wine bottles around with great aplomb and artistic merit. I do like Christmas when it's like that!

Tune in soon

I remember I promised right at the start of this blog endeavour, that I wouldn’t let my blog get blogged down in forlorn lamentations at the state of my love life (or lack thereof).

However, those of you who are regular readers will have noticed a certain level of unhinged ranting and melancholy over the last few posts. This is uncharacteristic of me and while I appreciate that reading about angst from a 26year old woman is only marginally more appealing than burning off your own body hair using nitric acid, it is unfortunately necessary. I’m not fishing for pity or anything so childish. However, it is good getting the opinion of someone else. And I like using this medium to work through things in my head. It is both cathartic and fear inducing – I don’t know anyone who, if they’re honest, wants to lay their foibles on a page for others to dissect and pass comment, but articulating these things in print, forces you (me) to think a little less superficially about them. Not that I am a superficial thinker but you get my drift. And of course you are only getting the edited version, which is safer for me emotionally – I don’t know if anyone is capable of brutal honesty given the implications it could have on self image, which means what ever comment you make it is not with the full facts of the situation and therefore … … I can’t find the word I’m looking for, but you know what I mean.

The whole experience is all tied up like a ball of string. It seems manipulative – as if, I give information out in the hope of a specific type of response (which of course I don’t do deliberately, but maybe it happens that way), And maybe I get the reply and maybe I don’t but maybe whoever is reading can see right through whatever I can’t, whatever reply I’m looking for isn’t the right one, maybe they know better than I do. And perhaps they can see this is text book case of self doubt, angst whatever, because everyone else in the world goes through it, but if everyone went through these feelings how come more people aren’t expunging at great volume looking for answers? And how come I don’t see other people behaving in the way I feel I’m behaving, but then how would I know how to behave if I hadn’t first seen someone else somewhere display the same behaviours in the face of similar adversity? Maybe they already have the answers and managed to do their learning much more efficiently than I have managed? Maybe I’m not even half that smart and no-ones’ falling for just an obvious ploy, and each thought path branches out and you go round and round and rounds following them through and letting your mind wander and wonder “what if?”

It’s all terribly confusing. I wish there was a stop button for thinking. Must be a fool moon – I’m not usually so uncertain. Lets think… what would Big Daddy Omar K say?

There was a Door to which I found no Key:
There was a Veil past which I could not see:
Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seemed – and then no more of Thee and Me

And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky
Whereunder crawling coop’t we live and die/
Lift not thy hands to IT for help, for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.

And finally I think to soothe my spinning head

And strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot
Some could articulate, while others could not:
And suddenly one more impatient cried-
“Who is the Potter pray, and who the Pot?”

I am of the opinion, that if you are calculating enough there is nothing you can't orchestrate or buy outright. And we fools. Our sly red eye glosses over the ugly and wishes the unpleasant over the rainbow. With money to buy everything the only thing we can't afford is ... honesty? Self dicepline? Introspection? Vulnerability? Are our selves really so sadly fragile?

If you take away my things what am I left with but my own reflection? What if that reflection is aborrant? Who will help chicken little pull herself out of the mire?

Our things shield us from the excruciating crushing inadequacy we buy into. Why does everything we own have to be fashionable? Like a never ending circle in a spiral we self perpetuate a crazy cycle of defining ourselves by the things we have around us. I don't know if it's good or bad. I only know it's humiliating to realise how dependant we are on our posessions to give us a sense of self.

I also have to make comment on that AWFUL woman Nigella Lawson. Oh she’s beyond diabolical. The thinking mans’ totty? Bollocks! All those nonsensical sideways glances to the camera are so contrived it’s excruciating to watch. When she’s making ice-cream at 6am in the morning wearing a black silk dressing gown and a full face of make up, I can’t help thinking “What planet are you on”

She suggested at some point if one had insomnia, one should just have a fresh fig sprinkled with some rose or lavender water. Be honest, we all have those ingredients in our fridge at 3am when we realise we can’t sleep. Stupid cow.

I saw 15 minutes of her latest show a couple of weeks ago. What a pile of insufferable patronising crap. How anyone gets away with talking down to the audience whilst cooking up haemorrhoid inducing rubbish paid for with MY license fee is beyond me.

Shoot her.

Now.

She's just an old toffee-nosed dinner lady and it’s unfortunate that her boobs have a better reputation than she does.

She soon got over hubby John Diamond, after his death rapidly jumping into bed with Charles Saatchi - nothing to do with his bank balance of course.

...And anyone who calls their kids Cosima and Bruno deserve an ASBO at the very least.

A very small but perfectly formed post today.

As cynical and jaded and pragmatic as I am, for as much as have walls as high as hills to protect me and despite my best cancarian intentions to retreat into my shell at the hint of danger, I had an experience recently which made me question the way in which I form relationships with people.

Unwittingly, someone managed to cut through all the bullshit and make me face myself in the mirror (metaphorically speaking) and reminded me that perhaps there isn’t always a need to be the one in control. I feel a little like a crocus poking her petals through the frost and snow to find out it’s not anywhere near as cold as she thought.

I've just noticed something in my last post that I hate. I would probably have ranted on this at some point and now I can't because I've just done it. Well it's two things really.

1. Sentences which aren't proper sentences.
2. I've mixed up my tenses. I've talked about doing things historically but then in the same sentence I describe things as they happen almost in real time.

These are two things about writing that really annoy me and I've done both of them. The Shame!

You see, I really love language. I love the flexibility of it. I love the fact that when one understands the rules of what makes comprehensible language one can start playing around with it, in the hope that someone witty will see the idiosyncrasies as deliberate conventions with a purpose.

Neat little word tricks I like include giving mundane everyday utterances the status of proper nouns. It’s not just any old shame, it’s THE Shame!

I like Double Entendre; I think it’s witty and devastatingly attractive when used effectively, and I’m sure if I asked you nicely you’d give me one!

Anyway I don’t want to end up with a hugely long post again. I just thought I should point out that I’ve noticed my own mistakes. Yes, readers; I am fallible. The Shock! The Horror! I recognise I’m not perfect….

… but I’m so god damn close it scares me!

Y’all be good!

Do you ever find you have a day where you seem to be really busy all day but never actually achieve anything? I have days like this occassionally.

Yesterday was one of them.

I got home from class reasonably early (about 4pm) and by the time I called my mum at 9pm I was shattered.

"Why're you shattered love?" asks my mum
I then proceeded to think over what I'd done that day.

I'd got up early in the morning to put on some laundry before going into work. I forgot however that the heating doesn't come on till 6am so the house was baltic. Farr too cold to shower right away I decide to do washing first.  I got down stairs to realise that I didn't have a full load so decided to strip my bed to make up the volume. While I was remaking the bed I found a brand new set of single sheets and duvet in my cupboard (I was rooting about at the back for my cozy flannel sheets on account of it being so cold), so I went to the charity bag and put them in, as I knew the charity men would be coming soon. No sooner had I realised this then I remembered that I had planned to go through my wardrobe and pare down some of the frivolous overindulgence in there. I didn't have time to do it then and there but I went hunting for my list book (see earlier post) so I could write it down.  I couldn't find my list book until I remembered that the last time I had it out I had done an express tidy of my bedroom (i.e. lift everything off the bed and stuff it in a drawer somewhere). I went through the drawers to find it and came across a reciept for a pair of shoes I wanted to return. Aware that unless I put this in a safe place I would loose the reciept and never return the shoes I went to put it in my purse in my satchel. On opening my bag I saw I had stuffed a credit card bill and a bank statement in there a few days earlier. I knew  had to pay the Credit Card bill and file the bank statement but it's now getting dangerously close to the time I have to leave for work. I am not showerd, I have not put on the laundry, the bed is unmade and my bedroom is a tip. I make myself a coffee and decide to catch some news 24 before I leave but then remember that the batteries in the remote control are gone and I know I bought some new ones so go rummaging in my satchel to find them only to remember that I'd left  them (along with some shopping) at my mums. Once I do get into the shower I remember the conditioner bottle is empty and have to hunt about in my room for a fresh one.  Come across a set of false nails and put them to one side to do when I get home.

On the way from work to uni I have to change buses and as I have a meeting with my study group, I think "I'll just pop into Greggs and get us all some giant chocolate cookies to eat while we're brain storming" however this causes me to miss my bus as the doddery old wifey in front of me remonstrates with the assistant on how well fired the morning rolls are. I get the coookies and get to uni only to get caught eating in the Library where the librarian volubly tells me off. We decide we can't start until we've printed off some notes but none of us can get the printers to work ( see earlier posting regarding being a total technophobe). And to be honest I'm the only one who's done the background reading. We break up after 30 mins and decide to reconvene once the girls have read the required texts. It's just a day of being thwarted at every turn.

And my day just continued like this.  Starting things and not getting them finished. Started to write out notes but got caught up reading celebrity gossip. Went for a coffee and stood blethering to my tutor for half an hour. Got to class and the power point projector wouldn't work and on and on and on. 

When I get home, the laundry eventually goes on and I remake my bed but in doing so find a library book under the bed that needs returned today. If I don't return it I'll get fined so I put it at the foot of the stairs next to the door so I'll remember to pick it up when I go out and I think "While I'm at it I might as well write a cheque for my Credit Card bill" Except I can't  find my cheque book!! Arrgghh!

So by the time I call mum in the evening I'm knackered. And I've achieved nothing. Typical.

Good Morning READERS. Yes I know it is a little early to be up at the computer on a Saturday morning, however I have been feeling guilty at my negligence in posting of late. So today I shall write a medium, sized post (I expect it will take you approximately four minutes to read. If you can understand the big words).

Quick life update – I basically don’t have a life working 37 hrs AND going to full time university classes, I feel privileged if I manage to get and stay outside longer than it takes to wait for a bus! University is going splendidly however. I have managed to find a chum who is almost as old as I am which is great. We had a lovely boozy lunch on Friday at the local hostelry and giggled our way through Anatomy and Physiology 1 on Friday afternoon. Yes I know it’s immature. Get over it. Classes at the moment are a breeze, my favourite being linguistics, specifically grammar, which leads me nicely onto the main body of this post.

Txt tlk. I was going to write my next sentence in text speak but I can’t bring myself to bastardise our beautiful language in such a horrific manner.

Text Talk drives me to distraction.

I loathe ‘newspeak' language. It spreads from both from the wider use of 'txtspk', and the frequent additional meanings that the “young” and ”trendy” give to words, (“wicked” to mean “good” (explain how that works?) that kind of thing) or new words being created because people can't be bothered to speak properly. Innit.

I understand that the natural evolution of language means that new words are constantly entering into mainstream acceptable daily usage. Shakespeare made up lots of words, yet we don't complain about him entering new words into the English language. But it seems to me that rather than adding new words, we’re taking letters away from old words to create new ones and I utterly despise it. Unfortunately it leaves me with a bit of dissonance between the fact that I totally oppose the dumbing down of communication, but I’m all for progress, and I know that if this evolution did not happen then we would still be grunting like the Neanderthals! ‘BUT IT’S JUST WRONG’ I shout at my monitor. I can’t shake off this feeling that allowing our written communication to be come so lazy is a big mistake. I just want people to speak and write properly. Communicate with a reasonable level of intelligence, and afford me the dignity of replying to you because I understand what you’ve written to me. If someone sends me an email or text message written in that inane txt tlk drivel I refuse to reply. If you can’t be arsed to write properly then I can’t be arsed to reply. Simple.

The only time that textspeak is anywhere close to acceptable is when it comes from a twelve year old schoolgirl, and is about which member of Busted (now there's a subject for another rant) they fancy the most. From anyone else it displays a level of intellect usually found in single celled organisms. To illustrate this point, here is a picture that captures everything that makes me want to slit my wrists with a blunt piece of paper.

Now on a totally unrelated note I want to share with you an erudite observation made by a dear friend of mine regarding the recent bush fires in California. I wish I had articulated this, it goes to show the idiocy and triviality of America.

While Malibu burns… ...we sit in our comfortable sofas, watching our big TVs, drinking our fancy wines, passing judgement on the state of the world and doing nothing.

Now I ask, did anyone see that guy on BBC news? "Everything's gone", he said. "The gym equipment, the security devices, everything!" You'd need a heart of brick to not be moved.

With the death toll rapidly approaching four and the news channels on the verge of turning their attention to more trivial issues, I can take no more. Tomorrow, I shall be loading up a wagon with emergency items (cross-trainers, CCTV cameras, SUVs, therapists, etc.) and driving over land and sea to the Californian coast.

Just because these people are famous, well-insured and shallow, they must not be forgotten. Let's not have the politics of envy get in the way of alleviating human suffering . The rich have feelings too.

Nonsense.

Anyway to finish up for this morning, here are some words I like.

Pejorative, mincing, coagulant, visceral, bridge, velvet, melancholy, lump, vice, discombobulate, pint, troglodyte, chelonian, myelin, Tobermory, masticate, harmony, straw, kung-fu, impecunious orchid and desultory.

Oh and the Gardener from Dundee? He bailed on me. Yeah I know. Stood up at 26. How pathetic!

Today’s little diatribe is on kissing. It’s not going to be soapy, so leave now if you’re not ready for some grippingly cringe-worthy social commentary.

I speak of course of the ubiquitous social kissing, and it’s a dilemma that is dividing Britain – one kiss or two. Once this charming way to greet was reserved simply for family and close friends, but look closely and you’ll see that this little peck on the cheek we’ve adopted from the continent is creeping into all walks of life. The agonising consequence of this is that no-one is ever really really sure when it’s suitable and how many are appropriate?

We used to have such a straight forward greeting. We’re British, you proffered a hand and someone shook it, you smiled, looked each other in the eye and said something insincere such as “ Nice to meet you.” If the person had screaming halitosis it wasn’t such a big deal as your face would never get close enough to thiers for it to matter. NOW however, you offer a hand and you get a cheek, you go in for the nervous slightly jerky peck praying that they don’t turn their head too quickly, and as you pull away you get offered a second cheek.

With the other person hovering awkwardly on their front foot, you go back in at speed to finish the job. As you pull away you’re aware that both of you are blushing and giggling in embarrassment. Thank god you think, at least a clash of heads was avoided.

Welcome to the social minefield of 21st centaury greeting rituals. I mean, how do you judge the expectations of the other person without seeming over-familiar or uptight?

It’s so awful when you are in a group and one of your number unexpectedly bump onto a friend or even worse a colleague.

They kiss, and turn to introduce you: Arrghh do you kiss too, are you expected, what if you go in for a kiss and they’re expecting a handshake, or what if they’re socially inept and just shuffle on the heels of their feet and nod begrudgingly in your direction? It’s excruciating as once two people kiss they set a precedent. Protocol dictates we should all behave similarly in this situation.

For the British it’s simply excruciating, stuffy at the best of times and never really all that good at the handshake, there now seem to be a whole array of options, Hugging, kissing, air kissing, even lip kissing; it’s a total minefield.

Someone really needs to lay down the law. Say, handshake on the first meeting with anyone, you can air kiss after three meetings, two cheeks to say hello and one to say goodbye, always right cheek first, and if you’ve ever been drunk and embarrassing together, you get a hug!!

Personally, I rather like kissing, but then I am a shockingly extravagant outrageous diva and I love reaching over to kiss someone on the cheek who doesn’t expect it. My tip is, whatever you do, do it with confidence as if you expect the other person to know what you’re doing – naturally.

“What? Doesn’t everyone say goodbye with a full face snog tongues included? C’est la vie!!”