Saturday, 31 January 2009

You know you want to know even more about me...

I'm totally cheating for this post. I was tagged to do this in Facebook (something that I'm totally addicted to..) and I thought I'd also post it over here too. If anyone is feeling like me, as in you're just feeling a bit sort on inspiration, or can't be bothered putting together a real post, then feel free to tag yourself. In fact, consider yourselves ALL tagged. I'd like to learn more about you all!


1. I'm the only girl in my family to have a middle name... which dad used to say was the name of an ex-girlfriend. He was lying, so the name stayed.

2. I don't have any toe nails on my big toes.

3. I steal Robbie's climbing socks when my feet are cold.

4. I was Head Girl at my high school. Which actually means nothing...

5. I have naturally curly hair that I straighten every single day.

6. My first job was working on a Saturday in Halfords. It was rubbish.

7. I was going to be called Samantha instead of Claire.

8. I still have a baby tooth. Not in my pocket - in my face.

9. I have to read the news online so that I can pick and choose
what news I hear about because I find a lot of news too harrowing.

10. I love makeover shows. The make up ones. I love watching people getting their hair and make up done.


11. Robbie is the one person that can make me laugh the WHOLE day long. Even if I’m in a stinking mood.

12. I’m often in a stinking mood. But I believe it’s my divine right as a female to act like a lunatic and be generally crazy at least one week out of a month. And not be questioned on it, or have it suggested that I might be a psycho hose beast.

13. I’m convinced my driving instructor was a pervert.

14. I love red hair. My ideal man would have (hehe… cos I’m still convinced I’ll meet him;)) red hair, a hairy chest, freckly forearms and an irish accent. Perhaps someone like Robert Redford…. Yum

15. I’m no good at maths. I actually feel my mind shutting down when I hear a maths problem..

16. After I've running, my legs look like corned beef hash; all red and blotchy.

17. I don’t like running.

18. I HATE forwarded emails. The ones where you need to send on to 10 friends or else something bad will happen, and is full of crappy pictures of ‘smiling’ kittens etc..

19. I have a rubbish taste in music. As in, I couldn't tell you what was in the charts, or who sings what these days. Though I do have an impressive back catalogue of Simply Red and Michael Bolton albums. Some even on tape.

20. I have to sleep on the left side of the bed.

21. I’d love to have a touch of OCD, so that my house would be tidy all the time. That or a maid.

22. I first started plucking my eyebrows at the age of 12. Until that time, I couldn’t see.

23. If I’m in TKMaxx for longer than ten minutes, I need to go to the loo. Urgently. I don’t know why. There’s no scientific reason behind it. All I know is, if I go in there, I have to know where all the exits are.

24. I have really wide feet and have to get most of my shoes from the fat shop. Or wear guys’ shoes. My trainer’s are men’s shoes, cos the ladies’ ones are just too flippin’ narrow. The Prince would never have been able to jam the glass slipper on to my huge trotter.


25. I have social tourettes, in that I cannot bear silence in conversations, so I end up filling all the silences with inane chatter, and I can’t stop myself. I end up saying some of the weirdest stuff, and in my head, I’m telling myself to shut up, but I just can’t. Just so you all know. I’m not nuts. Well…

Go on.... tag yourself!

Wednesday, 28 January 2009

sticky situation #548


I was at the gym (again.... but it doesn't seem to be making the blindest bit of difference. I just go to ogle the guys. Seriously. Even the ugly guys that sweat far too much. I'm no respecter of persons. Even the weird guy with what I'm sure is a glass eye. Does he keep it in his head the whole night? Does he take it out and put it in a glass of water, like old folk do with their false teeth? Anyway - he gets ogled too, but not cos I fancy him - just out of morbid curiosity...) last night. And I had just stood on the treadmill, and I got that big gurgly tummy feeling, that prompted me to quickly gather my things, and make a quick trip to the can. After all, I wouldn't want to start running, and then 2 minutes in, have to come off cos i needed the loo...


Hold on. That sounds like the perfect ruse. I'll need to use that excuse in the future.


Anyway. Went to the loo. Did the business. Then reached up the toilet roll dispenser. And my searching fingers started feeling about madly for a single morsel of toilet roll. Only to find nothing.


Schoolgirl error. Why didn't I check that this very necessary item was installed in this one cubicle? Now what to do? There was someone else in the cubicle next to me... do I call on her to pass some underneath? No - I couldn't do that. She would know that I.... needed some. Am I that much of a prude!?


I waited and considered my options.
Option one - just drip dry.
Option 2 - just pull' em up and be on my way. Boys do it all the time, after all.
Option 3 - wait til the coast is clear, keep trousers in situ and keeping the same stance, shuffle in to the next cubicle to hopefully find some blessed loo paper.


Well - it could only be option 3. I had to be quick. These were open plan toilets/changing room. Anyone could come in. My heart was pounding (probably a lot more than if i were on the treadmill, so i was happy to be using up some calories in this hour of need). Could I make it in time, what if there was no paper in the next cubicle? What if there was none at all?


I unlatched the door, and quickly waddled in to the next chamber to find the sweet sight of an great abundance of toilet paper. How small things can be seem so great.



Well, the paper was used. And used.


Back in to the gym. I was just about to hop back on that bleeding treadmill when one of the gym buffs stopped me, bent down and pulled a bit of loo roll from the bottom of my foot.


"You've got a little something stuck to your shoe there..."


But I was all out of shame. And that's why I can blog about it now. No. Shame.

Friday, 23 January 2009

Sunshine from Tigger... and me being smelly

This is a quick post, cos it's late at night and I REALLY need to go for a shower. I mean - really. My body emits an odour that I'm sure is harmful to the environment. That's one thing that I have a 'phobia' about. I'd hate for anyone to think "Wow - she's GORGEOUS, but how come she STINKS?!" OK... maybe not the gorgeous it - especially cos I have this ongoing battle with my barnet, and my face looks the colour of corned beef hash... but hey - I've been hacking up a lung on the treadmill!

But, yeah - I wouldn't like to be going round and for people to be thinking behind my back... "Whoaf... ever heard of antiperspirant?"

Anyway. I was over at one of my friend's blogs and she's doing a giveaway. I usually don't enter giveaways or competitions, cos I don't ever win. Probably cos i don't enter them? I have a very pessimistic view about my chances, or my luck in these sorts of things. But, I've decided to throw my hat in to the ring. I'm feeling lucky! (and feeling yucky - the shower REALLY is calling me..) And here's a link to her post, so that you can enter too, if you like! But if you win, you need to share with me.

Especially if the winner gets some antiperspirant....

Sunday, 18 January 2009

I knew how to attract the boys;)

Seriously? Not really.



I'm sitting here watching Wayne's World and I've just seen the scene with Alice Cooper belting out some tune about Frankenstein. I love that film. I think I went to see it at the cinema when it first came out. Anyway. So I was looking at Alice Cooper's leather trousers. Yowsers. They were tight. Which may have been more appealing if someone attractive were wearing them, you know, like any one of the guys that I really fancy.



But they reminded me of the time that I had a pair of trousers like that. Only I couldn't afford leather ones. My measly part time job (I was a checkout girl at ASDA, though I was multi-skilled - I could even pack rolls in the bakery section, thank you very much) didn't pay me the funds necessary to buy an attractive pair of leather trousers. But now that I think about it, what the hell was I thinking!? WHY did I want a pair in the first place!? I owned no Harley Davidson, owned no horse, and certainly wasn't an Alice Cooper fan.

But I digress. I couldn't afford leather trousers. So I bought the next best thing. PVC leather looky likey trousers. Yeah - I looked good. Especially when paired up with my high heeled silver hologram sandals.



There was one snag though. They weren't easy to wear. They had to be broken in every time they were worn. Once on, I had to stand perfectly still for about 10 minutes. I couldn't bend my knees or sit down. But once they had been broken in, they were like a second skin. Really. They were a bit tight. And once again, I'm wondering to myself... what the hell was I thinking!? My thighs are not conducive to anything skin tight. But, at the time, I thought I looked flippin' magic.



My friend and I were out one night and the PVC spray on effect trousers were out with us too. After a couple of hours dancing away, it was time to visit the loo. And here, I encountered another problem. Getting them back on. You know the scene in Friends where Ross can't get his leather (yeah - real leather) trousers back on? And he's dabbing with cold water, and lotion, and baby powder, in a vain attempt to get them back on? It's a true story. That scene spoke to me. Cos i think that scene was based on my real life experience of that night I went to the loo and was in there for about 15 minutes, waiting for my legs to cool down a bit, so I could haul the trousers back on, and begin the 10 minute warm up process again.



Though as if the experience of that happening wasn't enough, i felt I had to share the experience with a random guy. This guy i think was trying to be nice. He came up to me and said that he really liked my trousers, that it made me look sexy. I'm pretty sure he was intoxicated. Anyway... to which I responded

"yeah, I like my trousers, but they're such a pain to get in to. I've just had to struggle to get back in to them cos my legs were so sweaty, and now I'm just itchy."

Clearly I had ruined his perception of me and 'sexy' trousers. His face visibly fell and it looked like the toxic substances he'd consumed earlier in the evening were about to make a reappearance.

The trousers met their demise not long after that night. I didn't adhere to the 10 minute warming up process and tried to bend my legs to tie the buckle on my hologram shoes and they split right across the knee. I was devastated. And so was my pharmacist. Sales in Canesten went way down for her after that day.

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

Slice me open and see the venom

Really - I have discovered that this week, I'm not a very nice person. On the inside. Cos I can pretend really well to be nice. Which then tells me that I'm also two faced. Which is hardly a redeeming attribute.




I was at the gym, looking my usual terrible self. Really - I figure, I'm going to sweating my heaving ass off, there's no point in making sure my hair's sitting perfectly, and that my t-shirt's not perfectly (OK.. not at all) ironed. Cue me on the cross trainer (indeed - it makes me very cross) wondering if I may just have a heart attack. I was then wondering what I'd like to have as a 'last meal'. Yes - I'm morbid like that. But, I was on the cross trainer, thinking about delicious dinners. Can you see something wrong with this picture already!?




Anyway.. my daydream was rudely interrupted by some girl being shown by the gym instructor how to work the machines... she was new.




Girl: So I was wondering what my ideal weight should be? Cos I'm 8 and and half stone and I feel really fat.




Instructor: Well, it's a hard thing to say, it depends on a lot of factors. But looking at you, you're petite and very slim, so I would suggest that you're probably already at your ideal weight




Girl: Well I just feel sooooo fat. (pointing to ribby ribs and concave stomach). I just eat chocolate all the time, and I'm always buying packets of crisps.




Instructor: No, I think your weight is fine. Instead of looking at weight loss, you can think about healthier eating and perhaps toning up.




Girl: Yeah.. I just don't want to be coming in here with my big bum and people thinking I'm really fat.




OK, OK, OK. So. Can you imagine my thought process? Do I really need to tell you what I was thinking? Let's put it this way... I wasn't feeling sorry for this girl, that maybe she had a bad body image, or perhaps really DID think she was fat (but I really, REALLY don't think she thought that at all) or maybe she's starved of compliments at home, and has to rely on total strangers making her feel good about herself. Which are all really sad things to consider.




But as I said, I'm not really a nice person at all, so I was thinking, like a true psycho hose beast... "Shoosh. I'll show you fat. Check this patoot out. THAT'S fat!! And chocolate? You've never seen me with a selection box. And crisps? I can eat a WHOLE bag of Doritos. The bags that say they're meant for "sharing". Don't come in here with your perfect make up and size 0 touche and talk about being fat. And for my last dinner, you know what I'd have? A huge big Christmas dinner followed by a tub of ice cream, followed by various cheeses and crackers. Followed by chocolates. Followed by crisps. Followed by a stomach pump, so I could start again. Grrrr."




Told you. Pure venom inside of me. Or maybe she just caught me at a bad time. I WAS just about to have heart attack when she interrupted, after all...

Thursday, 8 January 2009

Well, it was bound to happen.

Not that long ago, it seemed that the blogging world was talking about this 'Twilight' series of books. I knew nothing about it. Then folk were queuing up in the middle of the night to get a first showing of the film. I still knew nothing about it. Then I asked my friend Jill (cos i knew she wouldn't mock the fact that I clearly had no clue as to what seemed like the whole world was talking about) about it. She just told me that it was a teenage romance book. To do with vampires.



Pfft. So what's the big deal with that? I can think of a whole load of other things that would excite me more than some plukey adolescent boy chewing on my neck. Well...only a few... I AM still a girl... ;)






Then I saw that this movie had made it over here, and there were huge posters for it everywhere. Then I really felt like a loser cos my 16 year old sister was talking about it, and i felt totally out of the game cos I had nothing to offer on the subject. And there's nothing like a 16 year old making you feel like you're a whole generation away from 'the edge'....'the pulse'...'what's hip'... or whatever the crazy kids are saying these days.




She gave me her book the other night and told me I had to read it before seeing the film. (Opinions on that one? Can't I just go see the film? Then I don't have to sue my imagination... that's hard work.) And she was quite emotional about giving her book away to me. I promised to look after it for her... weirdo.




I didn't start reading it til last night. And now I'm annoyed. Cos now i feel like I'm too late for the party! Now i can see what everyone was talking about... I've even just spent 20 minutes poring over pics on the internet of this one Edward Cullen. And you know I've changed my wallpaper on my laptop. Gone is the pic of my three gorgeous girls. Hello to one broody hunk of blood sucking, Mr Cullen.




Now don't anyone go spoiling anything for me. I've only got to the point where he starts speaking to her in class. But I plan to ignore the kids this afternoon so that I get me some Edward time.


Monday, 5 January 2009

Slave to the blog

In case any of you were wondering, (and I'd like to think that loads of you were...) I'm still here. Show of hands that thought I'd fallen off the face of the earth. No? Well... thanks for the blow to my self esteem.



Anyhoo. I've been in this love/hate relationship with my blog for the past couple of weeks. I love having a outlet and being able to type a whole load of guff on here, and for people to comment and know, or at least tell me they know how I feel. I love reading other people's blogs, and they really do make me laugh out loud and smile, and say aww.



But recently, I've felt like a bit of a slave to my blog. I've almost had 'blog suicide' on my mind. You know how when you were at school and you loved a particular subject, and then you had to write a big essay for it, and then your love diminished and instead you were left with feelings of dread, unwanted responsibility and resentment for the subject you once loved? No? Again... must just be me. But this is how I've been feeling about my blog of late.



I'd been too busy one week to type anything, and then it started playing on my mind...



"I've not typed in my blog for ages. I really ought to. Maybe I can fit it in tonight after putting the washing away.. after the gym.. after I've stuffed my face on ASDA's foamy fruits".



"It's been a wee while now.. I really OUGHT to. I'm late in typing something. It's been ages. Well, I'm not going to. Just to show that I can control myself and that I'm not a slave to my blog. How do you like them apples? I'm not going to even log on to my computer just to show that I will not be controlled by this need to write a load of cack and share it with the world. Ok - maybe not world, maybe like 10 people across the planet. But still."



"OK... it's been a wee while. I think I've shown my blog who's boss. Maybe I'll pay a wee visit. Maybe I'm sick of interacting with people in the real life world and would like to play with my friends on my blog."



Anyway. I've made a new year resolution in light of all these feelings of resentful loyalty and love/hate for my blog. I'm going to keep my blog and still update it, but maybe not so frequently.

Besides. If i spend less time on my blog, it means I'll have more time to spend on Facebook and other such worthy ventures...