You jump, I jump Jack!

Yes, a quote from one of the biggest movies of all time... Titanic. SPOILER ALERT!!!!

It sinks.

Jack and Rose's story, if you think about it was the epitome of most relationships. There was the flirtatious first meeting, passion, romance, realising that the other person is truly the missing half of your soul, drama, a jealous ex and the whole thing goes to shit because one of you wont share a floating piece of wood which ultimately leaves the other one to freeze to death in ice cold water.

You know Mythbusters did the experiment in San Francisco bay with an exact replica of that board. Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage managed to bust the myth (kinda) by proving they could both get on the board (after a lot of faffing around) and stay afloat. Ha! Take that Rose you selfish bitch.

Relationships... aren't they supposed to get easier? Honestly, I really cannot be bothered and have loathed immensely the game of dating. Dates to me feel more like job interviews with lousier prospects and the only Christmas bonus on offer is a quick grope in the stationery cupboard. See I had the crazy notion that relationships would get easier as I got older. I'm obviously one sandwich short of a picnic because they really don't. The older you get, the more baggage people seem to have (whether that physical or mental) and there is usually a veritable minefield of problems that ensue. I do not exclude myself either, I'm by no means perfect. Hell I have carry on and excess but I have now learned at the ripe ole age of 36 to leave the whole kit and caboodle in lost luggage.

Maybe this is why we see so many dating shows on television. Reality TV, as my more avid readers will know, is not my thing. There is nothing more mind numbing and infuriating than this genre and the shows that fall in this category. The utter crap these morons spew whilst getting their five minutes of fame. Not to mention their lack of social decency and moral standards. Their fake personalities and "shrink speak" leaves me wanting to stab myself with a spoon. And by shrink speak I mean "I feel that..." and "your words hurt..." whilst quoting verbatim from their copy of Psychology for Dummies".

Sadly the dating shows we have now are all of the above and more. Also the women on those shows act like, well, complete whores to attract the attention of the man they're trying to steal away from the other 25 whores stood in the studio with them. Yes I know that is the nature of the show but puhleeeez! Its embarrassing. And I will clarify because I have said before... the state of "whore" as I see it is not by the amount of people you've slept with. That is between you and your mattress. Whore is the way you conduct yourself. The way you act and unfortunately I have to say sometimes the way you dress. There is a time and place for the public display of breasts and it isn't 9-5 in the office. Although I realise by saying that there will be a great many men wanting to apply for a job where I work.

Wow don't I sound like a old fashioned stick in the mud? Honestly, I'm not.  I am a very proud lady in public and a slut in the bedroom and not afraid to admit it (unless I'm in the company of my good friends who know me well enough not to pay any heed when the subject of sex inevitably creeps into the conversation after a few drinks or late night chat)

Anyways... back to the dating shows... If they are the "lucky" chosen one and end up on a date with this obvious Prince Charming (he cant be that much of a catch if he's on a dating show, can he?), there's more sexual innuendo than a Carry On movie and you're left wondering if they even come good. Half of these guys could sue them for false advertising especially once you see them without the make up on that was so expertly applied with a trowel for the show.

In closing, you could go by the old cliché that "its only as complicated as you make it" and yes, I try and live my life by that but I'm finding more and more that it simply comes down to "I'm too old for this shit"

Ooops, I did it again!

Ok, I know. I suck. I'm despicable.

I said I would be here more and I have let you down once more. I apologise profusely and I will accept my punishment (FYI, I like paddles. Just sayin!)

So once again it has been a wickedly busy time. I finally had my surgery and I am now minus an organ. A useless organ but alas, I now feel a void within me that can only be filled by pizza and Chinese food. Or in other words, they finally took out my gallbladder and I feel fantastic. I can eat whatever I want again. The only downside is that I've gained 10lbs.

I also went back to America. TWICE! I went over for 7 days in March then another 10 in August. Obsessed much? Erm YUP! My trips there are always epically amazing. I shall return as soon as my finances allow.

Add to that a busy work schedule, I really haven't had much time to come here and rant and believe me when I say I have had more than a few occasions over the last few months where I've needed a good old venting session.

I have missed you and I promise... PROMISE... I will be back regularly.

I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.

Punishment fits the crime me thinks...

I must blog more.
I must blog more.
I must blog more.

See you soon.

“I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.”

- Woody Allen

I have yet another funeral to attend on Friday. Yes, it seems that I have reached that age where I am attending more funerals than weddings. Quite frankly, Id rather go to a funeral.

I dont do death well. By this I mean, I dont cry hysterically for days or lay in bed for days depressed. Although I have questioned from time to time why. Yes, I do cry eventually. It will hit me a week later, maybe even a month and the tears will fall for a few minutes or maybe even an hour but mostly Im about the stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on kinda gal.

My first memory of death was my father's mother. She was a marvellous woman if not a little scary at times. I was 10 when she died and I was pulled out of my class at school and told the awful news by my mother as she collected me and took me home. The fearless, untouchable women who once yelled at the chap who owned the local shop because Id complained that my chocolate bar tasted funny and she was convinced the thing had gone off, had had a heart attack and then she was gone. I wasn't quite sure how I should be feeling so I didn't. No one said it was ok to to cry or not ok to cry. By the time I got home and saw just what a state my father was in, I guess I didn't want to be an inconvenient, blubbering mess and my mother had her hands full trying to get him to eat, hell even speak, so I just went to my room and played with my toys as I would any other normal day.

Since then Ive lost a great many family members (we are a rather large family) and my composure and inner serenity sometimes even astounds me. Over the years it has horrified, even offended some but this is just what I do. Two years ago I lost my last surviving grandmother who I was ridiculously close to and still I went to work and just "got on with it." The company offered me time off, which I declined. They just couldn't understand why I didn't wanna go home for a few days. Actually it got bloody annoying being asked all the time "Are you ok?" Even now, I don't feel sad when I think of her. To me she is still in her chair, in the corner of her living room playing bingo on her laptop and complaining about that TV chef (Ainsley Harriott) who touches the food with his fingers too much.

Maybe you could say that I choose to privately grieve or even that words are my tears. I have always had a diary or some kind of blog for my adolescent and adult life and I always feel it is respectful to document in some way shape or form, the person's passing. Even if you cant find the words yourself, the internet is a wonderful thing and you can easily find a poem or a quote that touches you and that you can share.

So these are my tears Uncle Ernie. These are shed here for you.

Sticks and stones...

Kids can be cruel. We all know this. Hell I'm sure everyone has a story from their childhood of naming calling or a physical altercation with another kid. I know I do. For a brief period in my childhood I was bullied.

More, now than ever we see the stories on the news of children who have chosen suicide as their only option to end their suffering and every time their stories break my heart. I read one today about Cora Delille, 15 year old girl from Ohio that did the very same thing. She believed that her only way out was to end her own life.

There were other factors also, this isn't just a bullying issue. The story reads that she broke up with her boyfriend and her parents were getting a divorce so you have to of course take these into account but what the hell is happening to our children? What turns my stomach the most that even after this poor girl had died, they still continued their attacks on her. Posting comments about her in various internet forums. If a guy can make a joke about an airport being blown up on Twitter and face criminal charges then why aren't these little bastards being dragged to a police station. Even if nothing comes of it, a short sharp shock might do them good and make them think before they post a nasty comment on someone else's Facebook wall or send someone else a disgusting text. They should not be allowed to think that this is acceptable behaviour. What the hell happened to personal responsibility? They should bring back the fucking cane for shit like this.

I see time and time again on Twitter and Facebook, young adults bleating about hard life is and crying about trivial dramas. Most of the time I just want to scream at them "Welcome to the real world cupcake! Fun isn't it? Now a grow a fucking backbone and a thicker skin and stop fucking complaining" Its all too easy to see them as spoilt, whiny little bitches. Its difficult to remember that they live in a very different word to the one we grew up in 20+ years ago. They are constantly bombarded with images and information from a young ages. Most children now can work a computer before they learn how to make a sandwich. Ive lost track of the amount of under 5's Ive met who already have iphones.

Its easy to to sound like old Uncle Bill at a family reunion and say "back in my day..." but I find myself doing it. Back in my day we could switch off. When we went outside to play with our friends. We didn't permanently have a cell phone glued to our hands, we just played. Our brains got that down time from TV and learning at school and we used them more creatively. We used our imaginations, we had sword fights with sticks, we built forts and tree houses... Hey, I'm not saying that kids didn't kill themselves back then... I know for a fact they did but I would challenge anyone who disagrees that there isn't a link between the amount of information we now take in daily and the state of our mental health. 

Last year a study was done into how Facebook causes depression (no this is not me doing my usual FB bashing) I'm not normally one to listen to the various studies that are released what seems like every frickin week. One minute they're telling you to eat chocolate, then they're saying that chocolate causes cancer, then they're saying drink more wine, then they're telling you that you'll grow gills if you drink too much... bleh... come on! Why don't we just stop breathing? What will that do? Were all gonna die eventually anyways so I will eat as much chocolate as I like and drink as much wine as I like and then at least Ill be able to swim to America twice a year and it'll save me fucking fortune on flights!!!

But back to the study... They claimed it also caused  the “fear of missing out.” Made people feel inadequate when their friends posted pictures of vacations or had been on a shopping spree or even pictures of their children or as they put it "adorable children." So if you wanna make your friends jealous you cant do it if your kids are ugly? Makes sense I guess. Sorry but I am not one of these people who thinks all children are beautiful but I'm not bitch enough to recoil in terror when I meet you first born for the first time and he/she has a face like Sloth from The Goonies.

Maybe that's it, maybe that is all we need to instill in our children... the age old saying "If you cant say anything nice then don't say anything at all" because it seems that "stick and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me" has failed. 


Read the full story about Cora Delille here -

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/ohio-teen-penned-suicide-note-reading-thanks-pain-article-1.1799847

Why do today what you can do tomorrow?

I have many faults. Many, many, MANY faults. Who doesn't right? I think the one that annoys me the most about myself is my ability to procrastinate. Oh boy! If it was an Olympic sport, I would get gold every time. Hell, Id even have my own line in sports wear and be endorsing Pepsi. (ew, maybe not)

My avid readers will know that I wrote a book. Yup, lil ole me put pen to paper or rather fingers to keyboard and finally completed my manuscript... 8 YEARS AGO... since then it has been sat on a hard drive. Hey, its no War and Peace but reading through it just recently, I still got a good feeling about it. See up until a few months ago, I had a legitimate reason (or at least I thought it was legitimate) for it just staying where it was, never to be seen by the general public. As I have said before, I have a crippling fear of rejection and I'm convinced that it is a master piece and will not be told different.

Whilst I was working away I was asked by my boss if I would like to write a small article for a small publication. My boss of course didnt know that I write, hell, I wouldnt dare let anyone I work with see the verbal diarrhoea that vomit here for fear of being sacked! I actually question sometimes whether the word is prepared for my insane ramblings... but anyways, it was to be in a blog format, (ding ding ding) a entertaining and humorous story about working away (yup, I can be entertaining and funny) and they needed it by 4.30pm the next day. Nice deadline huh? Good job I work well under pressure!

So that night I set to it, writing the piece about when I was trapped in the lift a couple of weeks previous. (Real story. In the top 10 list of the worst 30 minutes of my life. It actually ranks somewhere in the middle between a blind date I went on and THE worst sex Ive ever had. I will also add that both situations were not on the same day) However, as talented and amazing as I am, I wasnt able to finish it that night so set off uber early the next day and spent 2 hours before work in a Nero coffee shop in the middle of Manchester writing the rest of it and proof reading it until I practically knew it off by heart. Of course being as talented and amazing as I am, (hey, I am. Shut it!) I emailed it over to my boss at 10am that day. I didnt hear anything til the Monday after when curiosity got the better of me and I gave boss a call. I was dying to know what he thought, even if it was going to be practical for the publication. Bear in mind this was the first time Id written a blog piece without saying the word fuck or whore or bastard or any other of the multitude of colourful language that is in my vocabulary and often makes it into my blogs here.

All I can say is, after that phone call I have never smiled so much in my life. I felt like I was 10 years old again and just unwrapped my Barbie dream house on Christmas day.

Not only had my boss read it but the BIG boss had read it also and some of the other managers and they loved it! The question was then asked, "Do you write professionally? Because that article is fantastic" (Let me just say, at that point I was grinning like Id now just unwrapped anatomically correct Ken too. Not the one with the plastic underpants, the one with the asexual plastic bulge) The rest of the day I was beaming which of course attracted some questions and funny looks from my co workers who each took turns reading what Id written and there was no sight more satisfying than watching their faces and hearing their chuckles as they read through it.

Now because I'd name two of my co workers in the article who happened to be present at my incarceration in the lift, (they weren't in there with me, they were outside it) I wanted their permission to be mentioned. I of course didn't know at that point who would be reading it or where it would be published so thought it was just polite to make sure they were ok with it. It was then I saw the human resources manager, who was one of the named and agreed to email him a copy of it so he could see exactly how and when he was mentioned. Well, the next thing I know, he's walking up to me in the office with an expression on his face that I just couldnt fathom. Was he happy? Was he annoyed? My immediate thought was "Fuck! What did I do?"

The first question out of his mouth was "Do you write professionally? Because if you dont then you should do!" He then revealed that he was currently in the process of having his own book published. OMG not only did I get Barbie's dream house and the anatomically correct Ken but I got the pink convertible with the private licence plate too!!!!! Was this like the best day ever?? So when I told him about my book he immediately wanted to read it and urged me to start the ball rolling with the publishing thing.

That was January... what have I done with my book? Erm, ziltch. Its still sat on my computer, although as I said, I have read through it and spell checked it again but yup, its still there... unread... UGH. I disgust myself. Captain Procrastination strikes again. What the hell am I waiting for? Whats stopping me? Shouldnt that day have been proof enough to me that people might just like what Ive written or will I forever let my fear keep me from possible greatness?

I love writing, it is my one true passion. I love that people get pleasure from reading my bizarre and random prattle. I dont for one minute believe that my work can inspire a generation. I highly doubt that I will be the next Sue Townsend (although she has had a huge influence on me, may she rest in peace) or be as brilliant as J.K Rowling. I am by no means a master of the English language and when I frequently have brain farts so huge that they could be detected by a richtor scale, I rely heavily on Thesaurus.com But what a dream it is to be able do this every day, to be able to live off my words and so I ask again...

What am I waiting for?

"What a difference a year makes. 8765.81 little hours..."

Ok so its not a year since I last blogged but almost.

First, please let me beg your forgiveness. I know I do have some followers who read my blog religiously but most of them are friends who I have on Facebook who know Im still alive from the crap I spew with daily status updates. I wish I had a good excuse for my absence, I really do but sadly I have none.

My only defence is that is has been an extraordinarily busy year. Health problems have been plaguing me and hopefully will be sorted in the coming weeks but travel occupied most of it. From working away to hopping that great big pond again... its been frantic quite honestly and the outlook is the same for the rest of this year as I plan to hop that pond again in three months time. I promise to try to blog more.

Im not sure why youre still reading this crap anyway but you are.

The problem that I have of course is saying too much. I am fiercely private when it comes to my life and whilst I try to amuse and inform my readers, I dont like to give too much away. I am still as paranoid as ever when it comes to internet security ( Facebook itself goes against every fibre of this but that is how I keep up with my close friends and their worlds so it is a necessary evil) and as Ive said before, when you post on the internet, youre not just telling your friends, youre telling the whole world.

Anyway, its good to see you again, let the ranting begin!!!