On an even keel...

Well hello there Blogosphere;

It seems like aeons ago I last wrote some senseless, mindless drivel, er, I mean blogged so I thought it was high time I got my arse into gear and put pen to paper - so to speak.

I have been feeling a lot better lately - you didn't ask but I am telling you anyway. My job is going well, nice people and no stress. No stupid targets, no unreasonable MD's calling every 5 minutes, no '10 visits a week to 10 non existent clients' and no unwashed tramps stinking of beer entering my consciousness. I have genuinely been calm, relaxed, happy and (relatively) anxiety free..Hurrah..... Until this morning - boo...

I was walking down the street to work when I became VERY dizzy and had to steady myself against the wall. No dear reader, I can't deny I like a drink but it's a bit too early even for me. I do get BPPV, which is where you get dizziness when you move your head into certain positions - but nothing like this. It didn't last long so I walked on and arrived at work. I told my boss and colleagues and they seemed genuinely concerned. When I looked in the mirror I can see why - my mascara had run and my hair was unkempt.. Hmm. Boss said to take it easy and go home - so I did.

I'm going to the docs on Friday and am sure it's probably an ear imbalance but of course in the back of my head I've got all sorts of illnesses and diseases it *could be*. I will not google I promise... *Googles*
*Only joking*

Thanks for listening if you did.

50 Shades of Grey

OK, OK, the world and (particularly) his wife has got their M&S cotton thongs in a right old tizzy about this book, right? WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

I freely admit, shamefully, that I am an utter sheep and downloaded this 'book' onto my kindle like so many others to see what all the fuss was about. I didn't *need* to do such a thing but I did. Reams and reams of people have written about it, (including some of my blogging friends) and I felt compelled to write this. I wouldn't call it a review, more a scathing attack on life, the universe and everything. I appreciate some people have read this tome and have derived great enjoyment from it - it has sold trillions of copies to be fair - and fair play to those who have/are deriving some enjoyment from it - but to say that it's not for me, would be an understatement akin to saying that I am a bit old to make a career as a Miley Cyrus lookalike.

What was I expecting when I read this? Well, a bit of a chuckle I guess - a bit of a guilty pleasure like the Jackie Collins books I used to sneak into my holiday suitcases as a teenager. It's so bad, however, that it's not even given me a chuckle or a little 'frisson'. What it has exposed is that anyone can make a career as a writer. You don't need good writing skills, sensitive prose, good character analysis - just write some sex scenes and you too could be a billionaire. (I'm taking Jackie Collins out of the equation because she has been successful and her books are entertaining IMHO)... Fair play right? Er, actually, no. There are so many good writers out there who struggle to get published, who are writing intelligent things but not achieving any success - it kind of sticks in the craw. Yes, I accept that there is a market for 'Mummy Porn' (and whoever created that phraseology needs to be shot), but why can't Mummy Porn be well written and intelligent? Nobody uses the phrase 'Holy Cow' apart from Batman (thanks to Sarah Miles for quoting me on that one and also for giving me the inspiration/idea to write this piece).

I also totally appreciate that by writing about this work I am contributing to the hype. Irony is not lost on me dear readers.

I'm not a prude, I love swearing and sex isn't something that we should talk about in muffled tones like 9 year olds but is this tosh really liberating? Are women really rushing home to hump their partners after reading this? REALLY?????? Didn't you want to hump him/her before this? Perhaps I am taking this all too seriously - who knows.....

I've paraphrased a section of the text here.. (Don't sue me, it's just my interpretation):

'Holy Cow' shrieked Anastasia as Christian plunged his member into her gaping, wanting orifice. Gently clamping the handcuffs onto her wrist, Ana let out a shriek of pain and a giggle... 'Ooooh isn't it lovely being handcuffed like this?' she mused acutely. 'Holy Crap, I didn't wax yesterday, I'm such a goof'...
Afterwards they sat and ate a cheese sandwich and she agreed to be whipped whilst watching Judge Judy.
'Stop biting your lip Miss Steele'
'OK Sir'
*continues for several hundred pages*

COME ON. That is not erotic. That is a fucked up bloke who has no respect for women and despite his wealth and apparent good looks, the only way he can get his end away is to insist on total submission.

Pathetic.

Anyway, I had best sign out now as I've got to dust hubby's nipple tassels and make his dinner.......

It's FASHION dahhhhhhlinks

In the spirit of it being a sober Friday evening (yes, am looking after myself by staying booze free for a while), I have decided to publish my very own celebrity fashion awards. Feel free to agree, disagree, applaud, wonder who half the 'celebrities' are or just stare wanly at the screen and wonder what on earth you're doing reading this utter drivel...


MY WORST DRESSED CELEB TOP 5:

5) Alexa Chung. Obviously I am 'well jel' but every time I see this woman's face I have a very strong urge to punch it. Smug, malnourished twot who is seemingly famous for being bezzies with Anna Wintour and hanging off the arm of northern indie rockers. Sorry love - but brogues and ankle socks do not suit ANYONE over 13. Too try hard and needs to eat some fray bentos.

 4) The Olsen twins. 2 billionaire sisters who look like they've raided Mummy's dressing up box to star as Miss Havisham in Great Expectations. Need to use a hairbrush and find some clothes that fit.

3) Rachel Zoe. Hollywood stylist with the body of a 7 year old who also seems to wear clothes 15 sizes too big - probably because they don't actually make them in her size. Looks like an ageing turtle in lipstick in desperate need of some senokot.

2) Florence Welch. A flame haired, titian Goddess with a fabulous voice but memo to self: Paisley curtains, loafers and legwarmers are best left er, in the loft.

1) Katie Price. A woman with an alleged £30 million fortune who looks like she's ramraided Primark's discontinued warehouse with Stevie Wonder. Would look like a hooker if she was dressed head to toe in Valentino couture or a nun's habit. Nasty nylon hair, leggings and tit busting tops. But enough about her husbands.......


MY BEST DRESSED CELEB TOP 5:

5) Victoria Beckham. Not a fan of the woman but she does wear some very nice clothes. A bit 'safe' but good style nonetheless. I've just paid Posh a compliment - may have to lie down in a darkened room for several yhears.

4) Lady Gaga. She dresses like a lunatic but she is doing her job - being an international pop star and creating attention for herself. Fabulous darlings - although don't think I'll be popping to Smithfield's market to recreate the infamous meat dress any time soon...

3) Cate Blanchett. Fab actress and wonderful style - chic, elegant and very, very stylish.

2) Tilda Swinton. Bat shit mental and wouldn't wear a lot of what she does but never plays it safe - always pushes boundaries and creates dramatic, quirky and interesting looks.

1) Kate Moss. Mings a bit nowadays - awful hair and skin (can't think why - crack is a real beauty enhancer) - but back in the day was astonishingly beautiful. That said, her style is consistent.. She is the epitome of a clothes horse and knows what suits her - looks best dressed down in skinny jeans, blazers etc. Effortlessly stylish.

Right that's it for now - I'm off to clear out my (busting at the seams) wardrobe....

Self indulgent witterings

I haven't blogged for a while... I wish I could say it's because I've been so desperately busy, living high on the hog and partying with A listers and earning money working as a freelancer for Caitlin Moran and drinking champers in Fleet Street.. But I haven't. Mainly, I've been existing in a little vaccum and temping in a weird little role at The Churchill hospital (more on that story later as Kirsty Wark would say)......

Mainly I have been attempting to overcome this damn awful panic and anxiety that seems to envelop me in ridiculously vast forms from time to time. I can't even describe it properly or do it justice - if it's not something you've experienced it's probably very, very hard to get your head round. & think yourself lucky if that is the case. Oh woe is me, woe is me - plenty of people suffer far more than I do - I know that - and - touch wood - my physical health is pretty good (can't remember the last time I had a cold). So, what is this all about then? What am I nervous about? I'm not actually sure... At my worst, I wake up shaking, feeling sick and with my head swimming (& no, that's not after a night on the sauce, this is just bog standard waking up stuff). I'm terrified of dying. I'm terrified of getting old. I'm terrified that there is something terribly wrong with me. We are ALL scared of these things, it just seems that a little switch goes off in my head and I let it get out of control. I've been on a pretty even keel for months and now it's back again. I've been getting dizzy spells in bed - doc says it's benign vertigo - but even then I am terrified I have some rare disorder that is yet to be discovered by the medical profession. (Perhaps Channel 5 will do one of their docs featuring the 'woman with an unexplained disorder'. No, hopefully not. I don't eat properly, I don't sleep, I can't concentrate - it's yucky.

Do I have a lot of stress in my life? No. No kids for one! Job that was stressful I left and have been temping ever since - not ideal - but not too bad. Yes, I have a few debts - who doesn't - and I have a wonderful husband who looks after me, listens to my endless panicky witterings and gives me big hugs. Why am I even writing this? To be fair, it's fairly cathartic. I am on medication and that does keep me on a (slight) even keel but I do need to look at other things - counselling - yoga, tai chi, anxiety focus groups - anything to get me out of myself..I freely admit that I need to give up wine for a mopnth or so... Whilst wine does take the endges off the panic, it actually compounds the problem in the long run so I am going to address that from today.

In some ways it's quite shameful. I'm temping at The Churchill and speaking to patients on a daily basis who are suffering from cancer and who are understandably terrified. When I walk into work through the ward there is usually some poor patient looking absolutely terrible and I wish I could kick myself and get a grip. It's not that simple though - rteally, if it was I would try it. Doc gave me 4 days' worth of diazepam - great stuff - but again, just masking the problem rather than getting to the bottom of it...

Thanks for reading and huge apologies for the self indulgent wallowing. Still, if a girl can't wallow self indulgently on her own blog - then when can she?

Women.

Inspired by the great Sarah Miles blog and the person I most want to be when I grow up, Caitlin Moran; today's ramble, er, I mean blog, is about women and our relationship with each other; how we interact with each other and how we can ultimately be our own worst enemies.....

Women's magazines are the worst: Telling us in one fell swoop how we should be 'happy in our own skin' and 'don't conform to unrealistic expectations' turn the page and you will see 'RIHANNA HAS PUT ON WEIGHT' 'LOOK AT HOW SKELETAL POSH IS' 'HOW TO LOSE A STONE IN A WEEK'!!! As intelligent women who like buying mags to read in the bath (ahem), we are of course, all totally weight obsessed.. Aren't we? Erm, no. Look, I'm 40, I'm a shortarse, I'm considerably heavier than I was in my 20's but still not about to join a Dawn French modelling agency. I do watch what I eat and I do like to do a lot of walking. That's it. I'm never going to be a size 8 again and whilst it would be nice, unless I contract some weird flesh eating bug, I am unlikely to be ever again. I have gotten over it; there is FAR more to worry about in life. These magazines are incredibly disingenuous and seem to encourage a culture of competitiveness which IMHO is unhealthy and totally unecessary. Of course I could stop buying them, but then what would I bitch about on here, and what would I read in the bath?? (OK, Viz and Private Eye, but I digress)...

Being a woman is great in most part. I like 'being feminine', wearing make up, nice clothes, pampering (blimey I sound like Paris Hilton)..... It also has its downsides: Smear tests (hell on earth), periods, (ditto), health 'issues', worries about breast cancer, contraception, the menopause etc etc etc.... It's also great to have female friends to rely on. However, where women fall down in their interactions with each other (and I must stress at this point that I'm talking about acquaintances rather than close friends here) is in their attitude to women and children. I don't have children. There are many, many reasons why I don't. Am I going to tell you why? No, dear reader; it is none of your business (lovely as you are). Do I regret not having them? YES! Am I going to spend the rest of my life stressing about what I have missed out on? NO! Do I hate children? NO! Do I like reading and hearing about friends kids? YES! I wouldn't dream of going up to someone and asking them if they regretted having their kids, so why do people find it acceptable to ask me why I don't have children? In a previous job some woman asked me this and then said 'how strange that you don't have children'. Now, tactless does not even cover it. For all she knows we are unable to; I might have suffered multiple miscarriages; I might be recovering from an illness or I might just think that they are the most evil little twits on the face of the earth and don't want them or the indignity of stretch marks. Whatever - NONE OF YOUR BLOODY BUSINESS. I wouldn't go up to someone with a pushchair, look in and go 'ugh, what an ugly child'.

Men don't do this I've noticed, it's always women. As if, because my uterus hasn't fulfilled its full potential, I may as well drink myself into oblivion and let my chin hairs grow down to my knees (I have done this btw but I always give in and pluck them). I hate this so called 'childless v children' dichotomy. Most of my friends have kids and I love seeing them; I don't harbour resentment and we are all intelligent enough to see that the grass is never greener - all our lives have advantages and disadvantages. Me and lovely hubs can go out and get hammered at the drop of a hat; spend the day in our PJ's watching trash; similarly, friends with kids have that lovely family unit and can have so much fun with their kids. We're all happy but with a smattering of 'what if's' - it's human nature. Instead of looking at what you don't have - focus on what you DO have - a lot of good things and a REALLY heavy duty pair of tweezers.

Jan Moir & 'Internet Bullying'

Now, first things first. Jan Moir is a hateful twat. That's better. More on her later.

Internet bullying is of course a recent phenomena and a rather unpleasant one. There is absolutely no excuse for terrorising people per se but doing it behind a computer screen; making threats, being abusive and vile makes it somehow more subversive and sinister. I freely admit that I have taken part in 'forum wars' before. (I don't need to make the point that I lead a pointless and tragic existence - if you're reading this, chances are you've read my previous blogs so you already know this;-)) I got on the wrong side of someone a few years ago who took it upon herself to stalk me via my hubby's blog, find a VERY unflattering pic of me and post it on the Digital Spy forums. To say I was shocked and upset is an understatement. In hindsight, getting into spats with her online and deliberately baiting her prior to this wasn't my finest hour and I am very careful these days about who I interact with online and what I tell them.

Internet bullying is the subject of the delightful Jan Moir's latest column. If you are unfamiliar with Jan Moir or her work, consider yourself blessed. Moir is a bitter, spiteful, old hack who is a regular writer for the Daily Mail (nuff said). Her most spectacular work in recent years was her attack on Stephen Gately when the poor guy was hardly cold in his grave. I'm not a Stephen Gately fan and I loathe Boyzone; just so you know - I have no personal agenda here.... Prior to his death he didn't impinge on my consciousness on any level. He died in 2009 in his sleep with a previously undiagnosed heart condition. He was also gay and in a civil partnership. A few days after his death, Moir took it upon herself to more or less accuse of him being a junkie alcoholic who died a seedy death. Moreover, Moir made the startling assertion that civil partnerships per se are doomed to failure because Gately died AND SO DID MATT LUCAS'S EX HUSBAND. Yes, you read that correctly. 2 tragic instances and Moir makes this crass and repulsive claim. Furthermore, the coroner's report was not yet available and Moir took it upon herself to wax lyrical on Gately's supposed squalid existence; suggestions of orgies, drugs etc. Beyond upsetting for his partner, family and friends. Following the rightful outcry of this piece, Moir made a half hearted apology that bleated the usual bollocks about freedom of speech and morality. Ugh.

Today, Moir writes about a poor young rape victim who was bullied online. An absolutely awful story. Moir is correct that there is no excuse for such vileness. However, what Moir conveniently then forgets is that there is no excuse for her version of cyber bullying either. She goes on to make the astonishing assertion that SHE is regularly the victim of cyber bullies:

This triggered a cyber blunderbuss of death threats and picaresque abuse that became almost comic in its intensity. I have never complained about this and do not do so now, feeling only that I cannot write about online bullying without briefly mentioning my own experience. My home address was wilfully repeatedly posted on Twitter, a passive incitement to violence which the police did not take lightly.
That same week, I was stopped on my street by four men who wanted to know which house was mine. All I can say is that if they were vigilantes, they weren’t very observant ones.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2099110/A-girl-bullied-raped-cowardice-cyber-trolls.html#ixzz1lztRvnXB

A young rape victim being bullied online is NOWHERE near equatable for a backlash following a vicious attack on a dead homosexual. Yes, no excuse for the small minority who took it too far and tried to find her home address etc, but I suspect she has exaggerated that aspect of this for her own ends anyway - (sue me if I'm wrong) but Moir dear, it wasn't a minority who found your article homophbic, it was a decent majority. You are of course crassly comparing your own self induced publicity to this poor innocent girl - absolutely DISGUSTING. You are a journalist who writes offensive things for money and as such should expect a backlash (& no I'm not talking vigilantism, I'm talking people commenting on your idiocy). She uses the usual bollocks about women being bullied online - no, there are plenty of fantastic female journalists who arfen't bullied because they have brain cells and aren't deliberately provocative and defensive. Hang your head in shame you despicable troll.

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.....