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Lazy Days

11 Sep

I know I’ve not posted much in the last week or two…as you can see I’ve been busy…

In reality, Mykie has been terribly busy with work and I employ him to type most of the time…

Normal service should resume shortly. ūüėČ


Objects of our affection: Senti-mental?

24 Aug

House is being decorated…everywhere smells of paint which is pleasant at first but now the novelty has worn off. ¬†The boys have bought new bedroom furniture which has resulted in less storage space (I’m not entirely sure why bedside tables costing ten times the old ones could have about a quarter of the space).

Traumatic for Mykie, not really an issue for Simon…

So,¬†I’ve got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty. I’ve got whozits and whatzits galore…what am I going to do? ¬†I’m not being contrary for the drama of it all, I’m just one of those people who gets attached to things and struggles to de-clutter. ¬†The 8 ball from my old Uni flat (akin to keeping the obligatory student traffic cone/sign I know); I don’t require it to function on a daily basis, but, it reminds me off my student days. ¬†The now tatty, plaid trousers I wore on my first date with Simon, I don’t wear them any more but the thought of discarding them fills me with sadness. ¬†I could go on and on but suffice it to say that I have piles of things that do not serve any use and are taking up room. ¬†I could put things in a memory box perhaps? ¬†Been there, done that, memory boxes updated every year and filled to bursting. ¬†I had to take the plunge and get ruthless. ¬†Out went “The Endless” models, out went the empty Westwood and Tiffany & co. boxes, out went the tie I wore when I interviewed for my job, out went the never worn clothes picked up on holidays.

I found this extremely difficult and a little upsetting. ¬†Simon on the other hand saw it as a great opportunity to de-clutter; ¬†He doesn’t seem to get attached to clothes and inanimate objects as I do. ¬†Simon’s wardrobe¬†operates on a strict “one in, one out” policy, and not many things are above the “clutter cull” (the notable exceptions being the random trinkets, crochet, origami and other knick-knacks I give him as little gifts…nice, as I bet he’s itching to chuck them all).

Is it a negative trait to keep items for nostalgias sake?  Should memories be enough without the need for a trinket to attach them to?  Should we all learn to let go?

I find it strange how some people get attached to things. ¬†I’ll happily chase anything if it’s woolly and moves about.

I think it’s about time Mykie got around to reading Bruce Hood’s Supersense.

FJW: We have a new logo!

21 Aug

Thanks to the Bamboo Pad Fun we have a new logo!

Rather pervert than plebeian.

12 Aug

It’s amusing what people get worked up over when it comes to the opinions of others…

I’m distinctive enough that it’s obvious I’m a¬†pedigree cat…I would be mortified if someone thought otherwise. ¬†Sometimes my beautiful fluffiness poses a problem; ¬†When I am in need of a day in the cat spa, I am prone to the occasional “Poo Berry”…another mortifying experience, especially if we have company over.

If I had to chose I would rather be caught with a collection of¬†faecal¬†ornaments than be labelled a “common street mog”.

I was sat in a waiting room the other day and I was getting a little bored. ¬†The room was empty, no one to people-watch or make up an imaginary life for; ¬†No box of toys, no multi-coloured, mutilated¬†abacus…not even a magazine. ¬†The only thing in the room that could serve as a distraction was a copy of The Sun (damn you white iphone 4, my patience is wearing thin). ¬†So I had a browse…

A quite respectable looking lady came into the room. ¬†She looked around for a seat, she noticed me sitting there, her eyes fell to my paper and she gave me a look of disgust! ¬†The old whore! Judging me on my reading material! ¬†Did she not see there was nothing else to read? ¬†How dare she look down on me as a “tabloid twat” she doesn’t know me!

Quietly seething, I returned to reading whatever “article” I had been perusing…It was then I noticed that the opposite page had a giant picture of a young lady exposing her generously proportioned¬†bosoms. ¬†I was quietly relieved! ¬†She didn’t judge me as a low-brow¬†ignoramus, she thought I was a pervert! ¬†I then realised I had been fidgeting on my chair as my cowboy themed undergarments have an annoying seam that results in regular adjustments to seating position being made. ¬†In the eyes of the woman, she had walked in on a young man looking at breasts and squirming on his seat…no wonder she was offended.

It had never occurred to me before that I must mentally rank aspects people judge me by. ¬†Think I’m a pervert quietly pleasuring myself over a woman of easy virtue in a newspaper? I have no problem with that…Think I’m reading and enjoying The Sun out of choice? ¬†I feel a strong urge to stand up and explain the situation.

I don’t think Mykie has realised she was probably thinking both…I wonder what ranks top of the judgement list?

Five go up a Mountain: A tale of danger and drama

8 Aug

Reinforcing stereotypes and supporting preconceptions.

5 Aug

The classic stereotype of a pretty, Persian cat is a big, lazy,¬†narcissistic lump that sleeps all day…Irritating, but I’m probably the rule rather than the exception. ¬†Stereotypes exist for a reason; Does it bother you? ¬†Do you embrace playing the role people expect of you?

In a similar vein, I’m not a dog fan. ¬†I’m sure there are nice dogs about but, every time I encounter one it acts like a slobbering fool…my experiences have only served to reinforce my preconceived notions…

On my way to work I often pass a Tesco in what is considered an undesirable neighbourhood. ¬†My loathing of Tesco aside, I’ll pop in for some chewing gum or a Coke Zero. ¬†I postulated months ago that the only people who shop here are ne’er-do-wells, dullards and miscreants…

Exhibit A: The Nicotine Bride

Standing in the kiosk queue with my Trident Soft (tropical twist) in hand…a woman in a wedding dress ran in. ¬†“Excuse me love, can I nip in front of you? ¬†I’m in a rush.” I obliged out of shock more than courtesy. ¬†She¬†proceeded to buy 20 “Marley Light” then ran out. ¬†It was like Cinderella but less glass slipper and more smokers cough. ¬†I was¬†desperate to follow her to see if she had pulled up in a ribbon covered wedding car…or if she’d whip a lighter from her garter.

Exhibit B: Mr Observation Obfuscation

Walking into Tesco with my umbrella up as it was most definitely¬†precipitating. ¬†One trolley collector man said to another “I think it might rain”. ¬†I’m generally too lazy to raise a brolly unless absolutely¬†necessary…it was certainly¬†raining. ¬†Carol Kirkwood and Derek Acorah should watch their backs; we all know what happened to Cristal Connors when Nomi got a taste of the big time.

Exhibit C: Mr “Dinglehopper”

I stopped off with the boss for a beverage in Tesco Costa. ¬†There was a man in a business suit that must have been taught table manners by the little mermaid. ¬†After stirring twelve sugars into his cappaccino using his fork (then licking it)…he proceeded to SCRATCH HIS HEAD WITH IT! He then used the same fork to not only eat his lunch, but also pilfer a chip from his colleagues plate! ¬†I’m sure we’ve all slurped the last bit of bisque from the bowl in the privacy of our own homes, but at a business engagement in a public place? ¬†It’s not really the time to act like a chimp with a pointy stick.

I realise I’m judging these people on snapshots of their lives. ¬†They may be wonderful, interesting people (except Dinglehopper he is beyond redemption). ¬†Classic confirmation bias, I do enjoy the smug sense of “I am so right about this place”.

So, I fully admit I am guilty of subscribing to local stereotypes but what about more well known stereotypes? What if I’m the person feeding into them?

I never got into the Glee thing at all and I turned down free tickets to SATC 2 but, like a stereotypical flaming homo I love, love, love the Gaga and Kylie’s Aphrodite album is glued into my car stereo. ¬†I also sport a slightly fay hair do and subscribe to the school of guy-liner. ¬†If anyone saw me driving (badly as my mandatory attendance to my 5th driver awareness course indicates) I’m sure I would be adding weight to the typical homosexual stereotype of a glittery, camp queen.

Here lies my problem, I dislike stereotyping and like everyone, I don’t like the idea of being pigeon holed; but I’ll still judge others if they support my preconceptions. ¬†I have no defence, I’m just a big hypocrite. ¬†But what else can you judge random strangers on? ¬†It’s not like I could crash the nicotine brides big day and ask her what her life goals are. ¬†Is being aware of your own twattery any better that just being a twat?

It is a satisfying feeling to have your personal ideas validated even if you realise you are probably remembering things selectively. ¬†On that note, I’m off to bitch about slobbery canines and groom myself.

Comedy of errors

2 Aug

I try to avoid publishing personal stories with no real point to them…who really cares after all? ¬†I’ve made an exception for the events of Sunday which I think are worthy of a few lines…

So, it was my aunt and uncles 25th wedding anniversary and next week will be my parents 30th wedding anniversary.  My lovely auntie Cath decided to surprise them all with a big family meal, about thirty people or so, with both couples thinking they were going for an intimate meal for no real reason with just my auntie Cath.

Master Plan=Get to Chinese restaurant in Liverpool before my parents ready for the big surprise.

Task=Pick up younger sister from parents house without parents knowing about 30 minutes before they leave.

Sounds simple enough, but we didn’t account for my fathers need to be early for everything. ¬†Little sister text to say “circle the road! they are leaving right now”. We passed my parents as they exited their junction…we ducked…did they see us?

Modified Plan=Get sister in car then somehow overtake parents to arrive before them for the big surprise.

This seemed to be going well, we drove fast there was no sign of them…until…we realised they were the car in front of us turning into the restaurant resulting in more ducking whist driving. ¬†Somehow they didn’t notice us; as as they turned left into the car park we turned right, we zoomed to the bottom and parked…phew!

Little sister screamed, we all ducked, parents had circled the car park and were now parking facing our car just one car over…the jig was up! ¬†After a couple of minutes of hysterical giggling and hiding on the floor of the car we gave up and the surprise was ruined.

I know what you are thinking, so what? Not a great story…

My aunt Cath had ordered cakes for both couples to be presented at the end of the meal. ¬†She ordered them from a lovely Chinese bakery called Wong Wong’s…

Wong Wong got it wrong wrong…

Accompanied by birthday music and a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday To You”!

Music, singing, even a big sparkly candle…Sunday was spent at what amounted to my parents joint 30th¬†birthday party. ¬†Very¬†surreal when their offspring are 28, 26 and 22!

Silver lining=Mother was very happy as she¬†received¬†this cake less than six months ago…

So that is the tale of Sundays surprising surprise that never was.