Sunday, 29 January 2012

Getting old....

I am officially old and boring. I suppose I have known this for some time now; but the harsh reality hit me as I lay in the bath this evening and put Radio 1 on which was playing 'the hit parade' aka the top 40. I didn't know ANY of the songs, or indeed, the artists. Florida (spelt Flo'Rida or similar apparently).. Last I heard it was a state in the US, but now, he is, apparently a rapper. Lots of loud 'plinky plonky' songs. I may as well have been reading a handbook on quantum physics - I probably would have known more (and what I know about quantum physics is how to spell it).

I remember sneering about old people when I was young. & when I say old people, I mean anyone over the age of 25. (Once you get past a certain point though, you become 'old'. I have (unbelievably I know), become less tolerant over time and more ranty. I thought I might chill out a bit more as the slide to retirement started - but no... Anyway, I digress)... I used to think I was invincible, that old age happened to people who deserved it and that I would be able to go through life until I was at least 80, eating lots of junk, never exercising and staying 8 stone. (This became cruelly snatched away at the age of 27ish - yeah, thanks for that)...

People say 'age is just a number', 'you're only as old as you feel'. True, I suppose, but here a just a few of the ailments/symptoms that have gotten worse as age has increased:

More chin hairs. Hubs and I have already decided that I will have laser treatment when it gets 'too' much. Also, it's a bit cringey when we're in the pub and he asks me to hold still whilst he offers to pull out my hairs.......

Memory loss. I used to have a photographic memory - bordering on genius, even if I do say so myself. At uni, I starred in Othello as Othello (just don't ask) and I learnt the whole part in 1 week. I struggle to remember my shopping list these days. Well, maybe not, but my days of learning plays in 7 days are long gone.

Grey hairs. As someone who was a bottle blonde for over 20 years, I'm not entirely sure when the greys actually started appearing, but I can't keep the buggers away now. I have to dye my brown hair religiously every 4 weeks now.

Eyesight. I am very lukcy to have been blessed with flawless eyesight, but I can no longer read bus signs from miles away *sigh*

Not knowing any songs or artists in the top 40. Actually, that's no bad thing.....

Thursday, 19 January 2012

Loathed celebrities - non exhaustive list.

I enjoy revelling in celebrity gossip; it's fun and it is fantastic stress relief. Yes, perhaps my time could be spent more prudently: I could volunteer to do some charity work, I could do a sponsored walk to help Guatamalean orphans; I could study for an MA. Nah, sod that; I shall stick to slagging off celebs - it's fun and that's why I do it. To that end, for your exclusive delectation, here is my top 5 hit list of persistently vile celebrity offenders. (Subject to change at any time)....

5.) Lorraine Kelly. A woman with a 20 year journalistic career who has the depth and journalistic integrity of a puddle. Everyone is 'lovely'. She would interview the yorkshire ripper and coo absurdly over him: 'Oooh, you're one of the most prolific serial killers in Britain, how lovely, super, well done'. Her TV show treats women like idiots - 'bags, shoes diets; that's all you care about'. On the rare occassions they give her something tougher to tackle she quickly reverts back to type. They've recently awarded her a CBE. Fuck me.

4)Kerry Katona. A woman so pointless that even our milkman's cousin's postman has more of a right to fame than her. Started out miming in a girlband, divorced and then became a train wreck. Constantly bleats about her difficult childhood (and having seen her ghastly Mother I don't doubt it) but has done nothing to protect her own children against the same fate; indeed, even spending vast amounts of time locked in her loo with 10 grams of marching powder and a box of Lambrini. Constantly claims that she's 'cleaned up 'er act' and that we should cut her some slack. Why? Oh, OK, you've stopped doing coke and have divorced the bloke that squandered all your money - er, well done. You're a grown fucking woman, start taking responsibility for your actions. Seems to spend her time now in 'before' and 'after' bikini shoots in Closer. Put them away love, fuck off and look after your children.

3) Dan Wootton. A showbiz 'journalist'.that seems to get showbiz scoops 3 weeks later than everyone else and then shrieks on Twitter about this exclusive. Awful, awful man who seems to spend his time sweating profusely on Lorraine Kelly's sofa. Anyone who disagrees with him is immediately branded 'homophobic'. Spends his time tweeting abuse to people like Lily Allen. I like slagging off celebs but I don't tweet them reams of abuse. Ugh.

2) Joan Collins. Awful old ham who makes the cast of Hollyoaks look like oscar winners. Spends her days saying how fat British women are and how we've all let ourselves go and then decides to advertise snickers. Desperate for work love? Says that women's priority is to look good for their partner.. Hmm, maybe stop with the polyfilla dear and start practising what you preach. Hideous.

1) Katie Price. Ah dear old Jordan; where do I start? Vile creature that used to be beautiful but has now plasticised herself into an orange troll with comedy knockers and red rum veneers. Claims to be a businesswoman but has no sense: Got her underwear range axed by Asda by making crude comments about her surgery scars and comparing them to breast cancer sufferers. Spent her early 'career' with boyband members toes up her fundament (don't ever google Katie Price sex tape). Shags bloke after bloke after bloke and seemingly has no ability to behave like anything but a vile harpy. Monotone voice which is like nails down a blackboard. Releases book after book after book stating the same old shite and my only shock is that she hasn't allowed cameras into her smear tests. She will always be my number 1. You're welcome.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012


January. More depressing than a night in a mine shaft with Leonard Cohen. I must confess that dry January fell *slightly* awry at the weekend; but in my book, 14 days with no booze is almost as good as 31 days. Almost. OK, not at all. I can blame nobody but myself and the delicious wine menu at Cafe Tarifa on Cowley Road - oh, and the discount we were offered as we are such regulars. I didn't know whether to be delighted or appalled - I'll stick to the former methinks.

On a more positive note, I now have at least 3 months of work secured - going back to publishing sales - good money and surely less stressful than recruitment? Time will tell. In any case, has come at exactly the right time, before my account goes into the red. Have enjoyed living off Granny's money, but need to go back, head first into reality now. Finally, I can enjoy my last week of freedom, knowing that I will be earning money from next week. I have generally been appalled with the agencies I have signed up with (with notable exceptions as already mentioned); it has been a real eye opener seeing it as an actual candidate.

 Anyway, am merely repeating myself and this is all utter self indulgent drivel so I will bid you goodnight and adieu - until next time.

Saturday, 14 January 2012


I have a new man in my life. He is sleek, very clever, and able to retain lots of knowledge simultaneously..... Now, before you go gossiping with the neighbours and branding me an indecent harlot with no shame, I haven't divorced my lovely hubby Graeme; I am merely the proud recipient of a brand new kindle whom I have christened Kevin... (I always call toys by the first initial of what they are i.e. Percy the Penguin, Bertie the Bear. Yes, I am incredibly sad. If we'd ever had kids I would have called a boy something beginning with B and a girl something beginning with G. I suspect you get the drift)....

My kindle love-in has come as something of a surprise; not least of which to me. I am a self confessed bibliophile and a complete book snob. We have reams and reams of bookshelves stuffed with wonderful books, all alphabetical and all in author preference. Julie Burchill mingles cosily with Dostoyevsky (sic); Salman Rushdie and William Boyd co-exist with Ian McEwan & Martin Amis etc.. I think Peter Carey and Bret Easton Ellis have even struck up a bit of a friendship... I adore bookshops; the smell of a fresh, crisp new book. Perhaps the intellectual equivalent of a panty sniffer... (& no, I am NOT before you start; not least of which because gussets frighten me)..... I despise chick lit and actually threw 'Bridget Jones's Diary' in the bin as it affronted my senses so much... I have openly sneered at kindles; why would I want one when I have perfectly beautiful books to read? I will never use a kindle - how pointless.. I was cross with G for buying me one as I didn't really want one.. However, as soon as I started on it, I haven't put it down. Yes, it is a lot easier to carry than a hardback and especially in bed and on holiday this is a real bonus. It can (shock, horror), co exist with actual, tangible books - yay!!! This is PROGRESS peeps....

(I can't sniff it though - maybe I should seek therapy)....

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Happy New Year!

OK, 11 days too late, but happy new year to all my readers - all 3 of you plus a few random spambots no doubt;-) 'Tis 2012 already - my 41st year - er, yikes. I am very, very anti new years' resolutions in general; however, this year, I have endeavoured to have a dry January (going well thus far and surprisingly easy, even with parents in tow this weekend - last year within 20 mins of my Dad's arrival I had cracked open the merlot) and to take my time to find a decent, well paid job (again, going well thus far - well, the taking my time bit anyway).

It's always weird taking stock at this time of year - especially because it is invariably a cold, depressing and dank time of year and most of us are totally skint. I am about to make a shocking confession - I am quite enjoying being unemployed. I NEED to find a job ASAP - purely for financial reasons - but if I could be professionally unemployed I think I would be quite good at it. In the spirit of taking stock, here is my (entirely facetious) list of my goals for 2012:

Start a drug habit. Start with valium and barbiturates; work my way up to a crack pipe by March.

To become a Z list celebrity. To facilitate this, I am going to start going to Chinawhites in a micromini and boob tube and attempt to seduce some zelebrity - i.e. Dean Gaffney.

Make a sex tape with said celebrity (OK, I'm sorry - intense mind bleach needed).

To do the statutory zelebrity weight loss 'journey'. At the moment, I am a size 14. I intend to eat my way to a size 24, sell my story to 'Reveal' magazine and then get a free gastric bypass, pretend I did it all properly and then release a weight loss DVD (£24.99 in all bad retailers). My 'before' shot will be me looking lardy and miserable, the 'after' shot will be airbrushed to within an inch of its' life, covered in fake bake and with a gurning Kerry Katona style smile.

Rehab for said crack habit. Will relapse and end up in a pool of vomit in Chinawhites.

To honour my new status, I will take part in a celebrity show: 'Celebrity Dancing on Ice Karaoke sing off on a farm weight loss special'. I will win - thanks in most part to my agent - a spurious chap who also represents some bird that used to be in Liberty X and Lembit Opik.

Of course, this is all nonsense but it kept me entertained - if no-one else... What I really intend to do is more writing, less stress, cut down on booze after January; address various health issues head on and attempt to come off medication, more (or indeed some) exercise, join the gym (ha) and dust off my bicycle which hasn't seen my posterior perched on it since 2009...... Right, am off to join the 'Chinawhites' mailing list....