Monday, 28 January 2008

Out of Breath

I'm only here really quickly, life is most manic at the moment, so I'm literally grabbing a few spare minutes as I haven't been here for so long. Forgive me, but you're really going to have to run to keep up, and I promise I'll come back later in the week.

Yes, it appears to approach, and ever faster. I will be 40 this Saturday. I expected to dread it, but instead am approaching it with glee, and a renewed joie de whatsname.

It remains the bane of my life. Not just because it gets in the way of really important stuff, like Jeremy Kyle for instance, but because it's horrible, and I hate it. There are however plans...

Somewhat foolishly, I (& some others) have agreed to do a sponsored weight loss thingummy at work, called Axe the Flubber, or some such delight. I have to commit to losing 10% of my body weight within 6 months. This equates to about 20 stone. Am thinking of having a leg off.

Nothing planned, although have recently come back from a lovely weekend in Portugal. Ooh, get me!

Needs decorating in some rooms, knocking down in others, & bricking up the remainder. Am thinking a coat of paint might have to do it though. And a blindfold at the door.

Not enough time to see them, talk to them, catch up with them or generally be with them. Is pissing me off mightily.

Is taking a very pleasant turn, thanks very much for asking. Yes, I'm being careful, yes I'm being careful not to get hurt, yes, I'm enjoying myself. Mightily.

Not enough time, not enough time to come & read you all, but I will do soon, I promise, I really haven't forgotten you all. I miss you very much.

Now to help me prioritise & manage my time better, if you leave me a comment, then please let me know which of the above you'd like me to expand on.

Because believe me, there's more on every single one...

Monday, 14 January 2008

Subverting The Form

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess called Brunettilocks. When she was just a little girl, she had been Goldilocks, and as she grew up, she changed her name frequently, being Blondilocks, Highlightilocks, Blackilocks & Burgundilocks. An evil witch, so jealous of the princess, cast a wicked spell upon her, and turned her hair to the shiniest silver. Luckily, her fairy godmother came to her aid, and every few weeks restored her hair to its former glory.

Brunettilocks, the beautiful princess, lived in the land of Sometime-Never, and spent hours gazing wistfully through her window into the dark woods beyond, wishing for her Prince Charming. Prince Charming sadly never seemed to arrive, so Brunettilocks decided to take matters into her own hands, and venture into the deep, dark woods. One day, whilst she played happily with a little band of squirrels and rabbits, she spied a cottage she had never seen before. Bravely, she approached, and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she pushed the creaking door open to peek inside.

She explored the little cottage, exclaiming joyfully at the treasures she found within. She ventured upstairs, and overcome by the excitement of her adventure, lay on the bed to sleep. She was rudely awakened by a loud shout. Sitting up in bed with a start, she was shocked to discover a great big bear, who told her his name was First Bear. She decided quickly that she loved him very much, and married him the next day. They lived happily for a short while, but then one day, First Bear came home from work looking very cross.

"Whose bed have you been sleeping in?" he growled, and Brunettilocks (who at this point was known as Copperilocks) sadly decided it was time to leave First Bear, and resume her search for Prince Charming. Some days later, she happened upon another cottage, very similar to the first. And here was another bear, almost the same as the first one! She was very worried that she would never find Prince Charming, and was tiring of the happy little games with the rabbits and the squirrels. So when Second Bear asked if she would marry him, she happily said that she would. They soon had a beautiful little baby bear, who Brunettilocks called Best Bear in All The Land, and she loved him very much.

Sadly, the day soon arrived when she had to leave Second Bear too, but Best Bear in All The Land lived some of the time with Brunettilocks, and some of the time with Second Bear, and he was a very happy bear indeed. Brunettilocks still dreamed of her Prince Charming, and would still gaze into the distant woods of Sometime-Never, wondering if he would ever appear. She decided that she would have one last search for him, and ventured into the woods again. She came upon a third little cottage, but this one was very different to the first. She peeked round the door, and spied a lovely steaming bowl of porridge on the table and sat down to taste it. Mmmm, it was delicious! But just as she put the second spoonful to her mouth, the door swung open, and there stood another bear, very different to the first two.

"Who is eating my porridge?" he asked, but not unkindly.

"It's just me, Brunettilocks", she replied. "It tastes delicious - does it have a special name?" she asked.

"Yes it does" he answered. "This is special friendship porridge"

And Brunettilocks and Third Bear sat down together to share the special friendship porridge. Soon she visited every day, and always enjoyed a bowl of special friendship porridge, but one day she asked if she could have something more.

"I'm sorry" said Third Bear. "But special friendship porridge is all I have".

"That's OK" she replied, and continued to visit every day. Some time later she asked again for more, but sadly the answer was still the same. Never mind, she thought, because the special friendship porridge is delicious, and I like it very much. She still visited Third Bear every day, and decided to ask one final time if there was anything else she could have. This time, Third Bear thought carefully and said:-

"I don't have quite what you want, Brunettilocks, because I think you would like to have some cake and eat it. But instead I can sometimes give you sugar and spice, and if you can be happy with that, then everything will be OK"

Brunettilocks thought very carefully. It had been very important to her to find Prince Charming, and truly she did want to have that delicious cake and eat it. But sugar and spice sounded very nice to have, so she told Third Bear that sugar and spice would be very nice indeed. She decided that she would visit him as often as she could, sometimes to have some special friendship porridge, and sometimes, if there was any, she would have some sugar and spice.

And if one day Prince Charming happened to come by, he would surely find her.

The End.

And the moral of this story, dear readers? That not every fairy story has a happy ending.

But sometimes, just sometimes, if you clap your hands and believe in fairies, it's not entirely a sad ending either.

Sometimes, just sometimes, it's the start of an adventure.

Sunday, 6 January 2008

Come On People! Help Me!

Look everybody, this is really serious. We have (and I really do mean we, this is no time for you to be shirking your responsibilities) only 4 weeks to go, and we have to get moving.


I'm sorry for the shouting, only I'm getting a bit stressed. I've moved quite a lot, but I've never done this sort of move before. It's really serious, a really big commitment.


Oh, erm, I didn't.

Look at the URL for this blog. Go on, you know you want to. It is latethirtiescrisis. In just 4 weeks, there will be nothing late 30s about it. It will be 40. Well, I will, if not the blog. And not only does that mean my URL becomes not only crap but a lie, but it also means that I am too old for a tantrum (still), but not too young for a midlife crisis. Which I plan to have at the earliest opportunity.


So I need to move my blog to another URL. And I need to change the title of my blog. And I might need to change my name too. And my toothbrush. But I can manage that last one by myself.




Thursday, 3 January 2008

Having a Degree Does Not Make You Clever

Books, I can do them. Films, not a problem. Music, art, go on, I'll give them a whirl. Maths, not so much. In fact, I am a retard when it comes to maths. I have an O'Level in it, if that counts (ha! I made a maths joke!) for anything, but it seemed to be all about tangents and algebra and pi, and I don't use them at all now. Well, I go off on tangents. And I eat pies. But that's about it.

So anything vaguely maths related, and I go a bit glazed. And parts of me die. That's not me being dramatic, you know, I can hear them clunking out of action. Like Belle's washing machine. I'm not so bad in shops. But you know those conversations you have that start "OK, well I've given you 75 pence, but you already owed me 18 pence, but I bought the ticket for.."? By the time it gets to 75 pence, I have lost the will to live, and it has taken my reason with it.

So imagine how this conversation filled me with delight. For your benefit, I'll even give directors advice, so you can experience the full horror.

Me: Well, that's because you're a lot older than me. You're in a different decade.
Him: Only for 5 more weeks, and then we're in the same decade.
Me: God, I am old. Soon I will be the same age as you.
Him: You'll never be the same age, will you? Not exactly.
Me: Well, in the same year. For some of the year I'm the same age.
Him: True. And the gap between us is getting smaller.
Me: Eh?
Him: Gap's getting smaller. When I was 2, how old were you?
Me: Erm, 18 months old?
Him: So what was the gap as a percentage?
Me: Eh? (Panic sets in)
Him: What was the percentage?
Me: Ooh, er, crikey. Well, if I was 18 months old, and the gap was 6 months, and you were 2, well, it would have been, erm, ooh, god, erm, 25%? (This is a very random guess. I was close to saying pi, or something squared.)
Him: Well, if I'm 40 now, and you'll soon be 40, the gap is still 6 months, but what's the percentage now?
Me: Erm....4? (My brain has died)
Him: 4? How did you get 4?
Me: I guessed. Is it right? No, wait a minute....7! (This is said with some triumph)
Him: 7? 7? How in god's name did you get 7?
Me: Well, it didn't sound as though 4 was the right answer. So I tried 7. (I have decided honesty is the best policy. He will tell me the answer now, and not make me work at this)
Him: Now look. What fraction of 40 years is 6 months?
Me: Erm...(Oh dear god, it didn't work. And now we are doing fractions. Still, they are not so bad) Erm, is it an eightieth?
Him: Right, so if it's an eightieth, what is it as a percentage?
Me: Erm...(I have never done this in maths. Why would you need to convert a fraction into a percentage? If you wanted half of a cake, you wouldn't say "Oh please could I have 50% of that cake?" You would probably say "Oh please can I have all of that cake, and stuff your fractions and percentages". That's what you would say if you felt like I feel, right this minute.) Is it 7? (This is a last ditch gamble)
Him: (clearly exasperated beyond measure at my idiocy) Of course it's not 7...

There then followed an extremely complicated explanation, not only of why the answer was not 7, but of what the answer was. If I could remember it, remember how to work it out, or remember where the half of that cake was, I would tell you.

I tell you what, I should have got out of bed then...