Sup, my Blog Brothers and Sisters?
Ok, that was my attempt at being gangster...I'll stop. Moving on...
I have a friend called...Graham...who is a rather epic drummer and a few days ago we all jollied over to Brighton to hear him play in this strange but quite awesome experimental Jazz band (I know, check out how cool I am.) When Graham's band were finished, with such hits as 'Here comes the onslaught, let's make love' and, my personal favourite, 'Grow, Kill, Grow', the headliners came on, who were this samba percussion type situation (I'm not advertising them well, they were very good) and, as much as you think experimental jazz and samba don't mix, it was a great night and fun times were had by all.
When the samba drums get going, it brings out the urge to dance in people in a way that Michael Buble never quite manages - you end up thinking you're cool and you've got the moves...you haven't. So, Polly, Jake and I were quite happy having a sit and having a giggle at the woman with, ahem, all the moves and no bra...when out of nowhere, our friends Laya and Neil jump up and start going for it. Laya is another drummer so she has great rhythm and is just generally one of those people who look effortlessly cool whatever they do...Neil is not one of those people. But, God love him, he gives it a bloody good go.
And Neil kept going for the entire set. I got up and had a bit of a boogie with him, and other women in the bar dotted in and out, but, apart from this one brazilian guy who was, frankly, mentally unstable, Neil was the only man up there doing his thing. And you find it in all sorts of occassions where we're all too shy or self-conscious to just have fun, and this is guys and girls. Girls do the whole 'I want to dance, maybe I will if my friends all do too and we can dance the same way...' thing, but blokes tend to just sit there with their arms folded. Not Neil.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that this is my favourite thing about Neil, and he's a fairly lovable kid anyway. Guys have a hard time feeling confident dancing, I guess it isn't very 'Manly' but Neil has no qualms, no doubts, no shame about getting down with the kids, he just has fun. And to me, I'd much rather hang out with guys like that than ones who are all 'I'm too cool and angsty for fun, I'm just gonna sit here in my skinny jeans and my Ray Bans and be better than you all'. That's not being manly, or even likable. And yes, his girlfriend picks his clothes, and there's not much evidence that I can see that he's started shaving yet...but in those moments, when he's bouncing around and waving his arms about like a numpty, my friend Neil is all man, my friends. And you have not lived until you've attempted to salsa with him without any regards to timing or basic rhythm.
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Tuesday 13 September 2011
PDA: Public Displays of Annoyance
Hello Bloggies
I'm not going to lie to you, today's blog may be coming from a slightly irritable place. I've been up since 4am, in and out of the bathroom throwing up and what not, and thus I am a little bit, shall we say, cranky? I tell you this in the spirit of full disclosure, in case the rest of this blog sounds a bit harsh, I'm very sorry. I'm not bitter....
Now, let's put that out of our minds as we talk about, shockingly, something not related to bad personal hygiene (apparently it's been a bit 'fart heavy' recently - sorry guys). Let's talk about lurrrrrve. Or, more specifically, people in love, in my face.
I consider myself quite a romantic person, not in a romcom cheese kind of way but, you know, the cool indie film kind of way. More like Juno and the TicTacs thing rather than The Notebook or something. This needs to be said so that you know, I'm not down on love. Or doing lovely romantic things together, or for each other. Or holding hands or cuddles - I love all that crap. What I do not love, however, is being able to see it. Unless it's my actual boyfriend in which case looking at the romantic stuff he does for me is probably mandatory...and lovely and stuff.
My problem lies with PDA (Public Displays of Affection). To clarify, the term PDA accounts for snuggling, kissing, play fighting, and general 'acting in love' *salutes* (E.g. making 'isn't my boyfriend so dreamy?' eyes). Also, as we do live in a technological age, I'd like to add in any lovey-dovey facebook wall posts to the mix. When you're saying 'I love my baby' *voms* on your status, OTHER PEOPLE CAN READ THAT. And they don't want to know! Tell your 'Baby' *voms again* in person, and by the way, don't do it in a secret couples 'code', we can all guess what you're saying and who you're saying it about. You're not James Bond.
Ok, this all sounds very bitter, but I have a plethora of reasons to 'have beef' as it were, with the PDA. For one, it's lame and icky and cheesy. Let me explain, I love to hear occasionally, my friends telling me the odd sweet thing that their boyfriend/girlfriend has done for them. It's nice to know that they're happy and in love and everything's grand. Otherwise I worry. Yet, to see it makes me want to stab them. We don't realise that when we're alone, all the lovely little in-jokes and ways of acting around each other seem cute and originial, in public, they're not. It's sickening.
The second reason, and perhaps the least bitter and most sane one, is that there are very few occasions when you're in a group and everyone is a) in a good mood or b) young and in love. If you're single, and you're trying to have a conversation with your best friend whilst her boyfriend is licking her face, that's not fun! That's the opposite of fun for you. I have a friend who actively avoids spending time with certain couples, because seeing people all happy and settled just reminds her that she isn't. And if you're in a couple but, say, it's long distance or things aren't going well or you're just plain in a bad mood, you don't want to see that in front of you because it just feels like the world is showing off, and holding up a big neon sign that says "HEY! HEY! LOOK HOW MUCH IN LOVE WE ARE. WE'RE MORE IN LOVE BECAUSE WE'RE NOT AFRAID TO SHOW IT!" You're not, you're a pair of douche bags.
Ok, maybe that bit was harsh...sorry...but the thing I've noticed is that couples are in 1 of 3 categories. They're either Pro PDA, Anti PDA or say they're anti PDA but actually they're just as bad as the first group. These people are the most annoying of all. My sister's fiance is the one who gave me the idea to do this blog. However, Blanche wanted me to do a pro one - she literally has no shame. Which is, you know, wonderful to see her all over my big sister. I love to see them make out, and call each other 'Baby' more times than Justin Bieber. Really. Blanche is in group 1. Grace, however, is in group 3. She is just as bad as Blanche, if not worse, but when she heard us discussing it she was like 'Oh yeah do one about Blanche. She's terrible'
Believe it or not, I don't want to moan. I'm well aware that sometimes you don't know when you're doing it, or you'd act the same with anyone else so it doesn't feel like PDA or your lover person does something so amazingly wonderful that you have to show your appreciation there and then. I get that. We're only human. Just try and work out a way of being subtle or wait til you get home, and then we can all be friends and I won't have to shoot you in the face. Everyone wins.
I'm not going to lie to you, today's blog may be coming from a slightly irritable place. I've been up since 4am, in and out of the bathroom throwing up and what not, and thus I am a little bit, shall we say, cranky? I tell you this in the spirit of full disclosure, in case the rest of this blog sounds a bit harsh, I'm very sorry. I'm not bitter....
Now, let's put that out of our minds as we talk about, shockingly, something not related to bad personal hygiene (apparently it's been a bit 'fart heavy' recently - sorry guys). Let's talk about lurrrrrve. Or, more specifically, people in love, in my face.
I consider myself quite a romantic person, not in a romcom cheese kind of way but, you know, the cool indie film kind of way. More like Juno and the TicTacs thing rather than The Notebook or something. This needs to be said so that you know, I'm not down on love. Or doing lovely romantic things together, or for each other. Or holding hands or cuddles - I love all that crap. What I do not love, however, is being able to see it. Unless it's my actual boyfriend in which case looking at the romantic stuff he does for me is probably mandatory...and lovely and stuff.
My problem lies with PDA (Public Displays of Affection). To clarify, the term PDA accounts for snuggling, kissing, play fighting, and general 'acting in love' *salutes* (E.g. making 'isn't my boyfriend so dreamy?' eyes). Also, as we do live in a technological age, I'd like to add in any lovey-dovey facebook wall posts to the mix. When you're saying 'I love my baby' *voms* on your status, OTHER PEOPLE CAN READ THAT. And they don't want to know! Tell your 'Baby' *voms again* in person, and by the way, don't do it in a secret couples 'code', we can all guess what you're saying and who you're saying it about. You're not James Bond.
Ok, this all sounds very bitter, but I have a plethora of reasons to 'have beef' as it were, with the PDA. For one, it's lame and icky and cheesy. Let me explain, I love to hear occasionally, my friends telling me the odd sweet thing that their boyfriend/girlfriend has done for them. It's nice to know that they're happy and in love and everything's grand. Otherwise I worry. Yet, to see it makes me want to stab them. We don't realise that when we're alone, all the lovely little in-jokes and ways of acting around each other seem cute and originial, in public, they're not. It's sickening.
The second reason, and perhaps the least bitter and most sane one, is that there are very few occasions when you're in a group and everyone is a) in a good mood or b) young and in love. If you're single, and you're trying to have a conversation with your best friend whilst her boyfriend is licking her face, that's not fun! That's the opposite of fun for you. I have a friend who actively avoids spending time with certain couples, because seeing people all happy and settled just reminds her that she isn't. And if you're in a couple but, say, it's long distance or things aren't going well or you're just plain in a bad mood, you don't want to see that in front of you because it just feels like the world is showing off, and holding up a big neon sign that says "HEY! HEY! LOOK HOW MUCH IN LOVE WE ARE. WE'RE MORE IN LOVE BECAUSE WE'RE NOT AFRAID TO SHOW IT!" You're not, you're a pair of douche bags.
Ok, maybe that bit was harsh...sorry...but the thing I've noticed is that couples are in 1 of 3 categories. They're either Pro PDA, Anti PDA or say they're anti PDA but actually they're just as bad as the first group. These people are the most annoying of all. My sister's fiance is the one who gave me the idea to do this blog. However, Blanche wanted me to do a pro one - she literally has no shame. Which is, you know, wonderful to see her all over my big sister. I love to see them make out, and call each other 'Baby' more times than Justin Bieber. Really. Blanche is in group 1. Grace, however, is in group 3. She is just as bad as Blanche, if not worse, but when she heard us discussing it she was like 'Oh yeah do one about Blanche. She's terrible'
Believe it or not, I don't want to moan. I'm well aware that sometimes you don't know when you're doing it, or you'd act the same with anyone else so it doesn't feel like PDA or your lover person does something so amazingly wonderful that you have to show your appreciation there and then. I get that. We're only human. Just try and work out a way of being subtle or wait til you get home, and then we can all be friends and I won't have to shoot you in the face. Everyone wins.
Monday 5 September 2011
Ok, you can look now...
In light of noticing I have a few readers of a more sensitive soul, (ahem, Pat) I thought I'd write about a social boundary-breaking experience that doesn't even mention farting, or IBS or bad personal hygiene of any kind (well, there might be a bit but I'll try...) I've even chosen LARGE font so that if something gross does come up (Bingo?) I can put it in teeny tiny font so you can skip over those bits. [ Just so you know this is a one blog only deal. I'm kind, but I'm not a saint. ]
A few weeks ago, if you'll recall, I disappeared from the bloggisphere to go to a festival for ten days. Don't pretend like you don't remember - I know you missed me. In fact, I actually went to 2 festivals back to back in the same field. For the first 5 days I was working in a cafe at Soul Survivor, a christian festival for young people. Then I stayed on for Momentum which is a similar festival for students and old, mature, wise people (ahem). Anyhoo...on the first night in the Cafe I was put on a team with 4 other girls, one of whom I knew from last year, but basically I didn't know these people. This is a very important bit to remember. Just so you're aware.
So, I'm chatting to these girls and it turns out one of them (who we'll call...Hayley? Hayley.) had just got back from Uganda and was going to Leeds Uni in September. This was fun and exciting because A) My friend 'Hannah' had just been to Uganda (and I had just watched The Last King of Scotland so I knew loads about Uganda thank you very much) and B) My friend 'Oliver' was at Leeds Uni. I thought - well she sounds lovely: NEW FRIEND ALERT! [And I don't make new friends easily - I'm very choosy] and I introduced her to Oliver and all t'others and fun times were had. Hooray.
But why am I telling you this? Well, Hayley and OIiver and I were talking at the end of the first evening shift and she made some comment along the lines of 'I wish I were also staying for Momentum' and I, having only met her 5 hours prior (and being the NSB Super Nerd that I am) exclaimed 'Stay for Momentum!!!' to which she replied 'No one else I know is staying...' and I came back with 'Camp with us! YOU CAN SLEEP IN MY TENT!'
I'd known her 5 hours...
Yet more remarkable than my desperate outburst was that Hayley didn't phone security, and, as Soul Survivor continued, we got to know her more and more and then - same old, same old - we found out how awesome she was, she found out how awesome we are, one thing lead to another and she decided to stay for Momentum. Yay.
Now all of this sounds like one long, and slightly drivelly, girl crush love letter...sorry...but I have an actual point. If I, or any one of my friends, were a 'normal' person, no one would have felt comfortable inviting a random stranger to essentially live with us for 5 days. And Hayley must be pretty cool too in order to agree to stay. And we're massive weirdos. I wouldn't have camped with us. We have stupid/wildly inappropriate games we play regularly called 'Knife, Fork or Spoon' and, the classic: 'Penis or Other?'
So my point is that we get so stuck in labels in relationships and stupid details like how long we've known a person and how well we know them and whether or not we can tell them this or that because of these silly details and it's (sorry Mum) bollocks. I tell most people I meet anything they want to know about me. Yes, I have no shame and perhaps should have a bit more...and Yes, we met Hayley at a christian festival and not Glastonbury or anything, but she still could have been a murderous, rapey, drug dealer (less likely...but possible...) but we made a lovely new friend. She has a new friend at Uni to share a cupcake and a crossword with, ergo, everyone wins! Another social boundary broken, and not a fart in sight (oops, nearly made it).
P.S. (Pan, don't read on) Whilst writing this entry, my sister 'Grace' (who also made me start this blog - you're welcome) told me she read "Big Girls Don't Fart" out loud to her fiance 'Blanche' on a crowded train, which did greatly amuse me until Dad came in and topped it by informing me that he and mum went to Pilates, he stood at the front of the group and went into the first stretch and farted in front of everyone. I love my family.
A few weeks ago, if you'll recall, I disappeared from the bloggisphere to go to a festival for ten days. Don't pretend like you don't remember - I know you missed me. In fact, I actually went to 2 festivals back to back in the same field. For the first 5 days I was working in a cafe at Soul Survivor, a christian festival for young people. Then I stayed on for Momentum which is a similar festival for students and old, mature, wise people (ahem). Anyhoo...on the first night in the Cafe I was put on a team with 4 other girls, one of whom I knew from last year, but basically I didn't know these people. This is a very important bit to remember. Just so you're aware.
So, I'm chatting to these girls and it turns out one of them (who we'll call...Hayley? Hayley.) had just got back from Uganda and was going to Leeds Uni in September. This was fun and exciting because A) My friend 'Hannah' had just been to Uganda (and I had just watched The Last King of Scotland so I knew loads about Uganda thank you very much) and B) My friend 'Oliver' was at Leeds Uni. I thought - well she sounds lovely: NEW FRIEND ALERT! [And I don't make new friends easily - I'm very choosy] and I introduced her to Oliver and all t'others and fun times were had. Hooray.
But why am I telling you this? Well, Hayley and OIiver and I were talking at the end of the first evening shift and she made some comment along the lines of 'I wish I were also staying for Momentum' and I, having only met her 5 hours prior (and being the NSB Super Nerd that I am) exclaimed 'Stay for Momentum!!!' to which she replied 'No one else I know is staying...' and I came back with 'Camp with us! YOU CAN SLEEP IN MY TENT!'
I'd known her 5 hours...
Yet more remarkable than my desperate outburst was that Hayley didn't phone security, and, as Soul Survivor continued, we got to know her more and more and then - same old, same old - we found out how awesome she was, she found out how awesome we are, one thing lead to another and she decided to stay for Momentum. Yay.
Now all of this sounds like one long, and slightly drivelly, girl crush love letter...sorry...but I have an actual point. If I, or any one of my friends, were a 'normal' person, no one would have felt comfortable inviting a random stranger to essentially live with us for 5 days. And Hayley must be pretty cool too in order to agree to stay. And we're massive weirdos. I wouldn't have camped with us. We have stupid/wildly inappropriate games we play regularly called 'Knife, Fork or Spoon' and, the classic: 'Penis or Other?'
So my point is that we get so stuck in labels in relationships and stupid details like how long we've known a person and how well we know them and whether or not we can tell them this or that because of these silly details and it's (sorry Mum) bollocks. I tell most people I meet anything they want to know about me. Yes, I have no shame and perhaps should have a bit more...and Yes, we met Hayley at a christian festival and not Glastonbury or anything, but she still could have been a murderous, rapey, drug dealer (less likely...but possible...) but we made a lovely new friend. She has a new friend at Uni to share a cupcake and a crossword with, ergo, everyone wins! Another social boundary broken, and not a fart in sight (oops, nearly made it).
P.S. (Pan, don't read on) Whilst writing this entry, my sister 'Grace' (who also made me start this blog - you're welcome) told me she read "Big Girls Don't Fart" out loud to her fiance 'Blanche' on a crowded train, which did greatly amuse me until Dad came in and topped it by informing me that he and mum went to Pilates, he stood at the front of the group and went into the first stretch and farted in front of everyone. I love my family.
Sunday 4 September 2011
Revenge of the Fart Flushers
Well, we're only 6 blogs in and I've already become controversial! How many cool writer points do I get? Check me out! (Boo, I've probably just lost some there, haven't I? Brilliant.) Apparently, my lovely cousin...Pimms (which by the way is a brilliant fake name for her as she's been known to enjoy a beverage or two) was reading out my blog - specifically "Big Girls Don't Fart" - to her manfriend (who we'll call Pat...Or Pan. He knows why.) When she'd finished reading, she turned to him and he had a bit of an uncomfortable look on his face. She asked him what the matter was and he said - and I quote (ok, not quote but get as near to a quote as I can) - 'Well, it's really well written and really funny [yay me] ...but man, do I feel sorry for Jake.'
It turns out that old Pat face is not a fan of the public fart. And not just female farting (which I suppose is a good thing as at least he's up for equality) but any farting of one human in front of another human. Ever. To the point which he will leave the room to fart, and expect Pimms to do the same. Even if he's a happily married man, he will never be comfortable enough to fart in front of his wife. This makes me sad.
And yet this is not even the biggest revelation to come out of that one little blog. Apart from the fact that I now know Pat doesn't like people to fart in front of him (and thus I try to do it as often as I can) I discovered, when telling this to my best friend Polly, that Polly is the same. But, further, Polly not only leaves the room to fart; she goes to the loo and flushes them! I have known, and been best friends with, Miss Polly Pepper for 6 years now and I never knew this about her. She claims she has never farted in front of me, or any of our friends, for the duration of our friendship. She had a boyfriend for 3 years and only farted in front of him once, and that was in her sleep. Polly and I have even shared a toilet before (not at the same time, but in the same cubicle. Just to clarify.) And yet she will not fart in front of me. She'll wee, but not fart. Madness.
Needless to say, I do not condone this behaviour. Some of the bigger Star Wars loving (and frankly, more awesome) ones of you will have noticed the episode 3 reference in the title of this blog. For those of you lesser Star Wars buffs (philistines!) episode 3 is called Revenge of the Sith. The Sith are, essentially, the baddies in Star Wars. Remember this for future reference: Jedis = good, Sith = bad. This is how strongly I am against fart flushers. They are fart Sith and frankly ridiculous. I love Polly...and Pat's quite nice too...but if they carry on this ludicrous behaviour I might have to light saber their asses. I mean it. Now I just need to get me a light saber...
It turns out that old Pat face is not a fan of the public fart. And not just female farting (which I suppose is a good thing as at least he's up for equality) but any farting of one human in front of another human. Ever. To the point which he will leave the room to fart, and expect Pimms to do the same. Even if he's a happily married man, he will never be comfortable enough to fart in front of his wife. This makes me sad.
And yet this is not even the biggest revelation to come out of that one little blog. Apart from the fact that I now know Pat doesn't like people to fart in front of him (and thus I try to do it as often as I can) I discovered, when telling this to my best friend Polly, that Polly is the same. But, further, Polly not only leaves the room to fart; she goes to the loo and flushes them! I have known, and been best friends with, Miss Polly Pepper for 6 years now and I never knew this about her. She claims she has never farted in front of me, or any of our friends, for the duration of our friendship. She had a boyfriend for 3 years and only farted in front of him once, and that was in her sleep. Polly and I have even shared a toilet before (not at the same time, but in the same cubicle. Just to clarify.) And yet she will not fart in front of me. She'll wee, but not fart. Madness.
Needless to say, I do not condone this behaviour. Some of the bigger Star Wars loving (and frankly, more awesome) ones of you will have noticed the episode 3 reference in the title of this blog. For those of you lesser Star Wars buffs (philistines!) episode 3 is called Revenge of the Sith. The Sith are, essentially, the baddies in Star Wars. Remember this for future reference: Jedis = good, Sith = bad. This is how strongly I am against fart flushers. They are fart Sith and frankly ridiculous. I love Polly...and Pat's quite nice too...but if they carry on this ludicrous behaviour I might have to light saber their asses. I mean it. Now I just need to get me a light saber...
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