It's meme time.
It's Friday meme time!
And frankly I'm too kanackered* to write anything that makes any sense.
Stolen shamelessly from Dave at the rather excellent Life is an elaborate metaphor for Cricket is the name meme! Go on, have a go, you know you want to!
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet** and current street name)
2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mum's side, your favourite candy)
Audrey Reese [as in Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Audrey Peanut Butter Cup doesn't have quite the same ring to it somehow].
3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your middle name)
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favourite colour, favourite animal)
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mum's maiden name and first 3 letters of the town you grew up in.)
Simhe Stgla [I'm a bit dissapointed by this, I would have hoped it would be a bit better.]
7. Terrorist Name: (middle name spelled backwards, your mum's maiden name spelled backwards).
8. SUPERHERO NAME: (your favourite colour, favourite drink) [I don’t think this one really works].
Green Jack (as in Jack Daniels)
9. PORN STAR NAME: (your first pet's name, your mum's maiden name.)
Magic Stewart. [Not bad huh?]
* Yes it's a typo, but it's rather good so I'm keeping it in.
** I'm doing this using the name of my first actual pet Magic the cat - rather cruelly ignoring the existance of my goldfish Kirk and Spock.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Well, I've gone and done it again.
Yes, once more I have succeeded in freaking out my fellow commuters.
Sitting on the bus, headphones in listening to the Best Of Kate Bush.
Hounds of love came on.
"Tra la la la la", in my head.
"Ow ow ow ow" doggy hounds of love sounds in my head...
...or not so much.
Yes, dear readers I succeeded in singing the doggy barking noises out for the whole bus to hear.
This incident may have proved just how nuts I am, but exactly how mad is the woman who came up with the woofy song in the first place?
This has all brought to mind a tale I was once told by a very reputable source. This is for Molly Bloom and Rock Mother...
Kate Bush is in the recording studio with her session musicians working on an
album. Arseing about her bassist says "aww, go and put the kettle on love". She agrees and pootles on out not to return for hours.
Suddenly she makes her entrance.
Dressed as a giant tea pot.
Saying, "I asked for a kettle but this was all they had".
They say that there is a fine line between genius and insanity.
That woman walks it like a tightrope.
Meanwhile I'm still trying to find the line.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
There is a girl in work who I really don't get on with. Unfortunately we seem to have very similar hours and are often stuck together for hours on end.
I try to make small talk but she just ends up irritating me.
I think that we just dont 'get' each other. I certainly don't 'get' her sense of humour. It's just mean. She'll say something nasty and then when you take offense she says "it was a joke" like I'm an idiot for not being able to tell in the first place. But you see it doesn't sound like a joke. It never sounds like a joke. She's just not funny. Or pleasant.
I don't really like her and she doesn't like me.
Yet we spend hours together.
We endure each other.
Hopefully not for long.
Posted by Heather at 9:03 pm
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
I must be insane.
Today I have the day off, the house to myself. So what do I do? Instead of lounging, maybe watching a movie, going for a relaxing swim?
I decide to redesign my blog.
It is unbelievably stressfull. This HTML stuff looks simple, but my god is it complicated. I still haven't figured half of it out. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going wrong, I've got the colours up, but I can't get the rounded edges of the posts to go round!
Also, it doesn't look anywhere near as good as I hoped it would. If any HTML experts out there would like to help me out I'd be eternally grateful. Oh and all constructive criticism will be welcomed.
UPDATE: Ok, so I've got it. Sort of. I think. It's not quite what I was going for* but it'll have to do. Still it's nice to have a blog that looks a wee bit individual. Let me know what you think.
*Ok, who am I kidding? - It's nothing like what I was going for.
Monday, August 28, 2006
A little something extra for the ladies...
To all those who were at Reading Festival on Sunday and saw Pearl Jam play. I'm sorry but I have to hate you now. I had to settle for watching them on the TV. My god they were brilliant.
Maybe one day I'll actually get to see my favourite band play live.
Posted by Heather at 9:17 pm
Saturday, August 26, 2006
So I did it. On Thursday I went through to Edinburgh for my first ever 'internet meet' with Cello and Marsha Kline. They were both just as lovely in real life as they are online.
Afterwards I went for long overdue drinks with my dear friend Amy.
Isn't it lovely when you meet people for the first time and feel like you've known them for years, and equally as wonderful when you meet someone you haven't seen in ages and feel like you've never been apart?
Bless the internet, and bless friends. Life would be dull without them.
Posted by Heather at 2:56 pm
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Being the cultured sort of lady that I am I spent an hour last night watching VH1's Storytellers. Bon Jovi were the stars of this particular episode playing their tunes and recounting the tales that go alongside them. Now something struck me about the audience. They were nearly all female. This isn't the first VH1 Storytellers that I have watched* and in the other shows the audience has been far more evenly spread between the sexes, if not male in the majority.
This led me to question why Bon Jovi of all bands seem to have an overly female demographic. Is it because they are good looking? Well yes they are, but there are other rock bands with attractive members out there that don't have anywhere near the level of female fans that Bon Jovi do. The answer it seems to me is that Bon Jovi are essentially non-threatening. They seem like nice guys. Nice. Now as my beloved art teacher Mr Wilson used to say to me, "nice isn't good, nice is bland. Never describe anything as nice, art is black and white, brilliant or awful never just nice. "
Don't get me wrong I love Bon Jovi's music and if Mssrs Sambora** or Jovi were offering I doubt I'd refuse, but when it comes to rock'n'roll I like something more. I want my rock gods to be a little bit dangerous, a little bit sleazy, a little bit dirty. I want the Robert Plant's, the Slash's and the Nikki Sixx's of the world.
It's strange really because in real life I always go for the nice guys.***
Ladies and gentlemen, how do you like 'em? Naughty or nice?
* The Bowie one is a cracker.
** Apparantly Sambora makes Tommy Lee look like a tiddler. Heather Locklear obviously likes 'em large.
***Actually I'm sure they are all lovely guys in real life, Robert Plant in particular, but you know what I mean.
Posted by Heather at 7:37 pm
Monday, August 21, 2006
I've been thinking.
Ooh dangerous I hear you mutter... and for once I would have to agree.
For I have come upon a musical conundrum, a question of pop one might say.
It hurts my brain so it does.
I have phoned a friend and even done 50/50* but as yet have no answer to that which has been plaguing me.
So now my dear bloggers I shall pose it to you in the hope that you might save me from myself.
If Dylan was the solo artist who's music defined the sixties, Bowie's the seventies and Prince's* the eighties then who the hell defined the nineties?
Is there even an artist who qualifies?
It must be a solo artist, not a band.
*Do you not see how bad this is?! I've even resorted to using cliched references to 'Who Want's To Be A Millionaire?' I need your help people.
** In the words of Chris Rock: "Remember when you were a kid and you used to argue about who was better, Prince or Michael Jackson?
Posted by Heather at 2:38 pm
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
I met an Englishman,
Posted by Heather at 10:27 pm
Monday, August 14, 2006
Well I had a lovely day today, sitting out in the garden at a friends house drinking wine and playing with their beautiful 9 month old daughter who seemed delighted with my present of a large stuffed pink unicorn. Although she did seem more interested with the label than the toy, but she's only a baby and unbearably cute with it.
Anyway this has left me with very little of real interest to blog about.
What to do, what to do?
That is, until I remembered something I saw on my internet travels. Ladies and Gentlemen enjoy...
Posted by Heather at 11:56 pm
Saturday, August 12, 2006
No, not the detergent. How could you become involved in a faux pas with a washing up liquid? Answers on a postcard children please.
No what I'm on about are fairytales. Fairytales really, really annoy me which is an unfortunate state of affairs because I also love them dearly. It's just that sometimes they require such massive leaps in logic that it hurts. And as someone normally impervious to logic you know it's got to be a huge problem before I'll take issue with it.
Mainly it's the kids that I worry about, these stories and their fibs are being perpetuated by generation after generation. Well they never did any harm to me I tell myself, and then I wonder if my capabilities for logical thought may have been better without hours of erosion listening to improbable tales of heroic princes and girls in unsuitable footwear.
Hmm, lets take a look at seven of the worst offenders shall we?
- Cinderella: Firstly why glass shoes, surely they can't be safe? Also said shoes easily slip off while running, this is quite obviously a health hazard. Take it from me, splinters hurt.
Why don't the shoes turn back to whatever they were originally at midnight? Flawed you see?
If the Prince knows what she looks like why does he get every girl in the kingdom to try the bloody shoe on? Surely he'd have saved himself a hell of a lot of time and money if he just went out looking for her?
Surely at least one other girl in the kingdom would be a size six or whatever she was. Tsk at the silly thinking.
- Hansel and Gretel: Why would the witch want to eat children when her house is made of sweets, cakes and biscuits? I mean - GET REAL! Any woman would rather eat cake!
- Little Red Riding Hood: How come Little Red Riding Hood doesn't twig that it's not her Grandma in the bed? Frankly people that thick deserve what they've got coming to them.
- Goldielocks and The Three Bears: Bears, wearing clothes and living in houses with furniture and curtains. They have NO THUMBS!
- Snow White: So she moves in with seven dwarves and becomes a cleaner (don't tell me that you don't find that whole set up just a little bit creepy).
Come on! I know of no princess who would happily tidy up without fuss.
- The Boy Who Cried Wolf*: Surely he wouldn't be shouting 'wolf wolf' if it was trying to eat him. Instead I see the exchange going more along the lines of... 'Fucking! Hell! Get! The! Hell! Off! Of! Me! Aarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'.
- Jack and the Beanstalk: Why go back up once you've got the goose that lays golden eggs? That's just pure greed that is.
He chops down the beanstalk at the end. Committing murder and destroying a rare magical plant in the process. Someone should have got the Police and Green Peace onto him or at the very least he should have had to deal with some angry horticulturalists.
There we are, logical loopyness I hope you'll agree. At the very least there's a lack of common sense involved. So the next time you go to read that bedtime story to the little'un's just think about what you are doing won't you?**
*Yes I know it's technically a fable, not a fairy tale but bear with me here.
** Credit or blame for this post is shared with the two Samanthas. Ladies, thank you for making me laugh.
Posted by Heather at 11:02 pm
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
So, quite possibly, another one bites the dust.
For those of you who don't already know, London based sex blogger Girl With A One-Track Mind was outed this weekend. Her true identity has now been publicized in a national Sunday newspaper and her life laid bare. She had jealously guarded her identity using the pseudonym Abby Lee to protect her family, work and lovers. Her book adapted from her blog, had just gone on sale. Yet a newspaper, the same newspaper which had carried the serialisation of her novel no less, callously disregarded this in search of yet another sensationalist story. Before her publication the media had shown no interest in her, so why now? Is it just because she'd become successful?
This begins to raise some interesting questions about the media and it's relationship to blogging.
Why do they care about a blogger come good? Is it that sex sells or can they not bear the fact that a blogger might actually be making some money out of their pursuit? Initially my answer would have been sex, but given a) that this 'expose' was published in a broadsheet and not a tabloid and b) the onslaught of media backlash against the recent blogging insurgency I would now suggest that the latter is equally as viable.
Over the last few months it has become clear that the press in particular is becoming threatened by bloggers and is reacting the only way it can, by lashing out.
Recently I have read articles by Charlie Brooker of the Guardian, Mary Dejevsky, Janet Street Porter and Yasmin Alibhai-Brown of the Independent all demonising the humble blogger.
Mr Brooker says,
"...the fustier elements of the "blogosphere", just waste the world's time banging on and on about how important the "blogosphere" is and how it spells the end of every old notion ever, when the truth is that, as with absolutely every form of media ever, 99% of the "blogosphere" is rubbish created by idiots."
Not too bad, but still decidedly hostile towards the bloggerly lot, however things really began to get interesting with Ms Dejevsky's horrifically researched opinion piece on the subject:
"It is not just in the political sector, as you call it, that fewer women blog. Except in areas such as childcare and gynaecology, it is across the board that women bloggers are few and far between."
She goes on to say that blogging is a passing fad that is attractive to men because of its 'gadgetry and self-aggrandisement' and that women are too busy cooking dinner and looking after their children to blog.
Then it gets worse.
Janet Street Porter sums up her views on blogging in her frankly obnoxious column by saying:
"The web is fast becoming clogged with blogs; the verbal diarrhea of the under-educated and banal."
"Blogs are for anoraks who couldn't get published any other way."
"And please don't tell me this is democratising communication. Mass blogging may indeed be giving access to Everyman, but is he always worth listening to?"
Of course he is, but then again if Ms Alibhai-Brown really does see the blogosphere as "a glut of pathetic drivel and idiocy" it is doubtful that she will ever spend enough time reading it to find out for herself.
Why are they scared of us, we teeny weeny little bloggers? We aren't scary. We aren't trying to change the world as Charlie Brooker surmises, we don't think that blogging will change anything, it is purely an enjoyable pastime for the majority of us.
Yet these professional writers seem to be taking every opportunity to besmirch the blogging phenomenon, in as self-righteous, ill-informed and overly abusive way as possible.
Are they really quaking in their boots that we humble bloggers might take their jobs? Or are they simply afraid of a little competition?
We aren't all Guido Fawkes and Girl With A One Track Minds. For the most part we are just people interested in talking about our day to day lives, our likes and dislikes with no agendas or book deals. Yes, some of us may harbour desires to be writers and to self publish online is a wonderful way of honing our skills and generating feedback. Yet these journalists seem scared by the thought that there are internet literate people out there who are happy to put intelligent, well-researched articles in the public domain for free.
I am also more than a little bemused by the assertion that to blog one must be a geek or an anorak with no discernible life beyond a computer screen. Where do they think people get ideas to blog about? In many ways blogging is a far more real portrayal of life than any soap opera or reality show. It provides a powerful, intimate connection with another person's thoughts and feelings. For something so reliant on technology, it is at its heart a very human experience. This is something that has been grasped by the creators of the play Girl Blog From Iraq which is running at the Edinburgh Festival. Inspired by the blog of an Iraqi woman. Sweetly the play's ending changes as the blog receives new posts.
According to the Guardian last week, one in every nine people in the UK is now a blogger. The media are going to have to wake up to this fact very soon.
Blogging is no longer a 'fad' after all it has been prevalent online for 10 years now. In the week that the Internet turns 15 they need to realise that blogs are here to stay whether they like it or not.
And finally, to allay Mr Brooker's fears, we bloggers don't mean to change the world. I very much doubt we could, but if we do, who cares? So long as it's for the better.
Girl With A One Track Mind, I hope you will blog again.
Posted by Heather at 8:59 pm
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Customer: Where's the Customer Services desk?
Me: On the second floor.
Customer: So it's on the fourth floor?
Me: No the second.
Customer: Ok, the fourth.
Me: No the second, this building is only two storeys high.
Customer: Ok, so it's the second floor, not the fourth floor I'm going to?
Posted by Heather at 9:20 pm
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Things I never thought I'd say number 1284....
On old woman flashed me today.
Yes, today I was treated to the sight of a pair of boobs that were at least 70 years of age.
Ah the delights of my job. Working in the changing rooms a very sweet little old lady asked for my opinion on something she was trying on. To respect her privacy, and to save the rest of the changing rooms the sight of her in her scanties I stepped behind the curtain of her cubicle to advise her as best I could. Fashion for the elderly isn't really my forte.
Not sure about the item of clothing she was trying she decided to try on a larger size.
It was at this point she whipped off said garment and revealed herself to be bra-less.
Right in front of me.
I hate to say it, but eeew!
What do you do at a moment like that? I was flabbergasted to say the least, and not just a little embarassed. I really did not want to be looking at her wrinkled cleavage. I averted my eyes and tried to leave the cubicle to let her try on the rest of her prospective purchases without me but she asked me to stay.
I dare say Wayne Rooney may have enjoyed it but I did not.
Saggy tits, every woman and man's worst nightmare.
Although as this picture proves, it is a fate even the most honed amongst us must endure one day.
Seriously though, I wouldn't dream of even stripping to my underwear in front of a shop assistant never mind crossing the nudity barrier. This old biddy didn't even seem to notice.
Has the world gone mad?!
Posted by Heather at 8:52 pm
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I don't actually have a clue what to blog about today. So I just thought I'd sit at my keyboard and go where my typing fingers take me...
- The spoilt child across from my house now has his very own ball pool, and an even better super duper snazzy swing set, climbing frame thingamybobber. This is on top of having his very own massive paddling/swimming pool and full size bouncy castle. He is only 3. Really though it's not fair because I want one.
- I have to be up at 5am for work tomorrow which means I have to go to bed early. It's like being in school all over again. I wouldn't mind if it was a job I actually liked, but well... let's not dredge that up again.
- My gran was over for her tea, and my pot roast is now officially the best in the world. That now makes twenty different people served in total, all demanded the recipe (my own)! Ha, take that Delia!
- TV cooks have the most awful names, Delia, Nigella. Dear god what were their parent's thinking!?
- So Mel Gibson was arrested DUI and spouted anti-semetic drivel at the arresting officer. What did they expect? His dad is a holocaust denier after all.
- Really though, is it wrong that I laughed when I found out about this?
Hmmm... that's about it for now, ooh I'm getting bitter in my old age, what do you think?
Posted by Heather at 9:23 pm