Apologies.

First of all I want to say sorry. This is not my usual sort of post, I like to think I've made this blog a fun place to come and visit. I don't want you to be put off by me getting serious on you all of a sudden. I'll be back to my old self tomorrow I promise you, right now I just need to vent.



Today has not been a good day. I got turned down for yet another job application. I can't even begin to express how despondent I feel. I have a degree in journalism and qualifications in Television Production and Operations yet can find no work whatsoever in the media.

Well actually that's not true, I can find a few, but they all want people with far more experience than I have or I'm told I'm over qualified. How am I supposed to get experience without work? Today's letter of rejection, from a company who were advertising my dream job simply said I didn't fit their criteria. Which would be fine, except I still have the list of criteria that came with the application form and I matched it all, even exceeding it in several places.

Still, at least they are better than the many places I have applied to who haven't even had the decency to get back to me.

The frustration is becoming unbearable and I feel utterly useless. I know I have something to offer but no one will give me a chance.

I just want to prove myself.

Now back to talking about the ninja pigeons, they make me smile.

Unexpected Ninja Guests?

A crazy bird just flew in my window.

Then into the wall opposite the window.

It scared the bejesus out of me.

I suspect it was a kamikaze pigeon.

I ran about after it with a towel for a while before catching it.

I was just going to shake the towel open out of the window and then I thought what if it doesn't fly and drops like a stone?

Do I really want pigeon murder on my conscience?

Answer: No I don't.

I had to take it downstairs and let it go in the back garden.

It flew off, I knew it was feigning injury just so I'd give it bread.

Sneaky pigeon.

Oh lordy, I hope it doesn't have delayed concussion (can birds get that?)

Why do I care?

Maybe because of all the open windows in all the world it flew into mine.

I'm just really glad I don't have a cat who might have tried to munch it.

I do want one, but mainly so I can call it Ziggy Mac Stardust.

Then I could say; hey I have a cat called Ziggy Mac Stardust.

I think I may need to work on the banter a bit more.

Still, sometimes it's nice to have unexpected guests.


UPDATE: Have I done something to upset our feathered friends today? It's becoming like something out of the Hitchcock's The Birds. Another pigeon, the same window, but this time it was shut. There was a horrible bang as it hit the glass. Ahh! What is going on here?

UPDATE 2 : Skeadugenga has come up with the quite brilliant theory of Ninja Pigeons. I did a little research and looking at this article I think she may be right.

I am quite insulted though, talking to a so called friend I said I thought I could take a Ninja pigeon in a fight,

Friend: Would you be armed?
Me: No.
Friend: You couldn't take a Ninja pigeon, it'd kill you.
Me: What if I had a Katana*?
Friend: The outcome would still be doubtful on that one. Would the pigeon be armed?
Me: Possibly... possibly with nunchakus? Come on though, I'd have a Katana!
Friend: That pigeon would beat you down!
Me: Harrumph!



* A ninja sword.

Feeling listless.

I was out present shopping today for some friends who are getting married. A Danish-Scottish wedding which should be interesting - but more on that nearer the time. It's a nightmare buying wedding presents, I got them a set of towels, how dull.

I shocked my mother though by saying that if I ever get married I don't want a conventional wedding list. Instead I want a list of all the CD's, DVD's and books I would like. Why should I want a conventional list? I already have a kettle, toaster and other assorted household items. I don't need any more of these things, surely one kettle is enough?

Traditional wedding presents were for a time when people were just moving into their first home after marriage and didn't have these things. Modern life is very different, people move out of home at a young age (I hightailed it out of there at the tender age of 17). People live together and build a home together for years before tying the proverbial knot. I have all the nests of tables and throw cushions my heart could desire, what I don't have is someone to marry.

So why is it strange to want the other things, the luxuries in life which I would love but I am too busy paying bills to afford? In honour of this I have decided to make up my own alternative dream list. Not that there's going to be a wedding (apart from the Danish-Scottish one but that's not mine).


1. Buffy The Vampire Slayer - The complete 7 series boxed set.
2. West Wing - The complete 7 series boxed set.
3. An MP3 player with a skip button that works.
4. The complete Sandman in hard back editions.
5. Two tickets to see the Rolling Stones.
6. That necklace I saw in that shop last week, it was very pretty.
7. That dress I saw in that other shop last week, it was very pretty.
8. A trolly dash around Accessorize, lots of pretty things.
9. A fortnight's holiday in Sorrento, it is a very pretty place.
10. A digital camera. Useful to take pictures of aforementioned pretty things.


So there you go, that's my list. Is it strange that I'd rather have these things than a toast rack? What do you think?

Oh and by the way, if you're feeling very generous....

Anniversary!

Ha, the end of my first week in Blogging, not a very exciting event to most of you I know, but a bit of a milestone for me. I just thought I should mark the occasion. So far I've managed 7 posts in 7 days which is pretty good going I feel. Anyway, got to go now as I have folks coming around for a BBQ, not my idea I'll admit. My friend invited everyone around to my house and then told me afterwards so I couldn't get out of it. Ha, he shall feel my wrath for his crimes, it shall be a very wrathy thing. After I've fed him of course.

I'll give you an update on festivities later, if I'm sober enough to type.


UPDATE: 18 Things I have learned at my BBQ tonight. (Please bear in mind I am quite tipsy as I type this)

1.The word chagrin should never be used on a Monday.

2. Doing the big fish, little fish, box dance to Mr Vain by Culturebeat is neither big, nor clever and definitely does not make you look cool.

3. I should wiggle my caboose more often.

4. Two of my male friends admit to trimming their pubic hair.

5. My ex flat mate now lives in New York where women outnumber men 7 to 1. He is in heaven.

6. New York is not really like Sex In The City.

7. I would really love the comic Mouse Guard and should read it post haste.

8. We all love the comic Next Wave. We all sound terrible trying to sing along to it's theme tune.

9. I am the only person in my group of friends who has read Gaiman's Eternals so I couldn't talk to any of them about it.

10. While the meat may be black on the outside, it is actually quite tasty on the inside.

11. Men will always take over a BBQ, it's to do with grrr manliness apparently.

12. Eating and drinking too much simultaniously will make you feel unwell.

13. My ex flatmate does a spectacular impression of Brando doing Shakespeare. How could I live with him for over 2 years and never have heard it before?

14. We could all happily quote 80's movies starring ex SNL presenters until the cows come home.

15. Dan Ackroyd hasn't been funny in a movie since 1989 (apart from Gross Point Blank).

16. With my new hairdo and glasses I'm told I look very Lois Lane .

17. We all love Total Recall far more than is strictly necessary.

18. Hospitals do not have vibrating beds in real life. (Source Fi the nurse, ref Green Wing).

As of yet I have not unleashed my wrath upon my friend... I think I shall save it up for when he is least expecting it. Then he will cower. Well he might if I was in the least bit scary*

Right, I have 7 guests to get back to (I popped away while the footie highlights were on, I haven't abandoned them!) I just felt I should post before the copious amounts of booze I have consumed eliminate all memories of this evening. Goodnight all, hope you've had half as much fun tonight as I have.

*I'm not very scary. Except maybe to mice, and other extremely timid creatures. Dammit! Need to work on my inspiring fear in others skills. Do you think the OU do a course in that?

Summer and Songs

I've been wearing flip flops today, it's strange how the simple act of exposing your feet to the elements makes you feel all summery. Ahh lovely.

Flip flops are great I thought to myself smugly as I strolled down the high street this morning. Look at me in my spiffy flip flops being all summery.*

Until I had to run for the bus. At which point I managed to leave one of said flip flops behind on the street and had to go hopping back one footed to get it. I must have looked a total tit.

Eventually I got on the bus (I'd managed to miss the one I'd been running for, what with all the flip flop flying and hopping) and after muttering curses against summery footwear for a while settled down with my mp3 player for the journey home.

It was at this point I then succeeded in freaking out the old lady sitting next to me.

It wasn't intentional you understand. I was listening to my music, singing along in my head, except suddenly I wasn't. I was singing out loud, but didn't realise. What makes it slightly worse is that it was Ed Harcourt's song Strangers I was singing. The bit where the lyrics go like this...

"Mow mow mow, mow mow mow"

I love that song**, and will readily admit that the Mow Mow bit is my favourite part. However I suspect the unfortunate octogenarian next to me thought she'd sat down beside some crazy cat woman.***

I still feel decidedly summery though, so it's all good.






*So summery indeed that for a brief delusional moment I even thought I could qualify as a summer girlfriend (TM. Black Books). Although I've never washed my hair in a stream so that idea was quickly quashed.

** I'd post a link to it, but I don't know how. If some technologically gifted person could email me and tell me I would appreciate it muchly.

***I'm not by the way, a cat woman that is. Although the crazy is still open for debate.

Faerie Tales??

I found this site today, Urban Faeries.

There seems to be something strange going on in the American town of Ann Arbour.

Magically doors the perfect size for faeries have been appearing all over the town. They even appear to have their own shop!

The doorway in the picture was 'discovered' in a fireplace in a home.

As yet there have been no sightings of the ever elusive faeries...


I do love a good faerie tale.

There is strangeness afoot.

I've just been gardening and discovered a large bunch of plastic flowers buried in my front flowerbed. I spent about 5 minutes just sitting and staring at them thinking, how surreal?

Quite how said flowers came to be there is a mystery at this time. I only moved into my house a few months ago, so I have no way of knowing.

Anyway, a more pressing issue right now is my growing distrust of small children, particularly at my local supermarket. They keep laughing at me you see, and not only laughing, oh no, there's pointing too. In case I didn't fully grasp that their hilarity is aimed at me, the little buggers point just to make sure.

The first time it happened I assumed it was because I was wearing my rather spiffy* Calvin and Hobbes T-shirt, and the little girl (aged around 3 or 4) just liked the pretty picture of the silly tiger and the little boy.

Then it happened again.

There was no cartoon T-shirt this time, oh no. This time I was wearing a slinky black top and trousers combo. This time, not one but two small children, brothers I think, (aged- 3 or 4) started pointing and laughing.

I checked my appearance, there was nothing wrong that I could see.

I have had to come to the conclusion that there is something about me that is inherently amusing to toddlers. I don't have much experience with this particular age group so I don't know if the phenomenon is widespread or only centered around Morrisson's car park.

Or another possibility is that they have all banded together in some sort of evil - diabolical -supervillain plot to paralyze me in fear of their mocking faces. With the end result of me never leaving the house again.

Ha! Well I'm on to their Machiavellian scheme!

They won't get me!








* Spiffy. What a great word, one of my all time favourites.

Some thoughts on sanity or the lack thereof.

The inevitable onset of madness has begun.



Tonight I poured Diet Irn Bru into my cup of tea instead of milk.

Why?

I don't have a clue.

More worryingly...

It's the third time I have done this in the last week.

It's not even like the bottles are remotely similar.

They even sit on opposite sides of the fridge.

Maybe I should just give in to it, and embrace the madness.

Or maybe I should try drinking it, it could be really nice.



This seems unlikely.

Ta Ta TOTP

The BBC has just announced that it is cancelling Top Of The Pops after a 42 year run. I don't know why this upsets me as I don't think I've watched it once in the last 6 years, but I find it's demise is somewhat unsettling.

I used to watch it, every Friday night when I was little. I don't usually go in for nostalgia but I remember how exciting it was sitting waiting to find out what was number 1 in the charts. That was back when being number 1 in the charts actually meant something of course. Back when an artist had to actually sell a lot of singles to get in the top ten.

When my mum was young her ambition was to have every single in the top ten. This was a big ambition for a child who had to save two week's pocket money just to buy one single. My mum was never one to be put off by such things, like economics or reality ( a trait I worryingly share), after all she bought her first record at a time when she didn't even own a record player. She did succeed in her dream though, because back then (the 60's) if a song got into the charts, especially into the top ten it stayed there, often for months. Nowadays the chart changes so much that sort of thing is impossible. Also, who buys singles any more? I haven't bought a single since I was 13 years old, all of my music collection consists of albums.

Really I'd far rather watch Later with Jools Holland, or re-runs of The Old Grey Whistle Test, as the music is far better. The TOTP format is outdated, especially with the onset of all the new fangled technological stuff we have now. Downloads and myspace have taken over.

I didn't even know TOTP had been moved from it's Friday night slot to a late night Sunday position on BBC2. I shall still miss those opening bars of Whole Lotta Love signalling the start of Top Of The Pops. I long ago abandoned it to it's fate of dropping viewing figures and ultimate cancellation. I feel guilty. It feels like a national institution has died today.*








*There is one good point to this however. It means that 'acts' such as Girls Aloud get less time to pollute my TV screen. Now male friends keep telling me that they're actually quite good and that I should give them a chance. They're not. You see I was actually listening to their music. The aforementioned menfolk were trying to look up their skirts. Although considering how much flesh they bear in their performances I really can't blame them for having a good stare.

Illicit Rumpy and other Ye Olde Stuff.

I have been thoroughly enjoying BBC4's The Century That Made Us season. Lot's of good documentaries, an enjoyable re-run of a Tom Jones serialization and last night's Beau Brummel: This Charming Man.

It's certainly been a refreshing change from the twin plagues of Big Brother and The World Cup.

The Tom Jones serial is excellent fun with Brian Blessed blustering around yelling a lot and loads of illicit rumpy going on in barns and fields. From the looks of things these 18th century folk really knew how to have a good time.

I can never quite explain it, there's just something about watching Brian Blessed that always makes me unreasonably happy. Although the less said about his role in Star Wars-The Phantom Menace the better. It could be the wonderful sonorous voice. Or maybe my love of him stems from the wonderful story of how they repeatedly had to stop filming of his role for Flash Gordon as he kept on making pow pow noises everytime he was supposed to be firing his gun. No matter how many times they explained the sound effects would be added later he just kept on going. There is just a joyous glee in his work which I adore and translates across the screen to the viewer, I think anyway.

I digress, So the Beau Brummel film/drama was on last night. It was very good, although at times it felt simultaneously a bit too rushed and far too slow. I'm not denying that James Purefoy (in the titular role) is an attractive man but I could have done with about 10 minutes less of him getting dressed in slow motion and about 10 minutes more of plot.

The gentleman playing Byron seemed to be an idiosyncratic piece of casting to me. Byron I've always thought was supposed to be powerfully sexy and intriguing, whereas the actor looked more like a misplaced Hobbit.* Yet again there was lot's of rumpy ( when the sex depicted happened over 200 years ago it gets called rumpy) booze and general debautchery. Even a little incest dropped in the mix for good measure.

Hats off to Brummel though, he certainly invented a good look for men. The hormonal flutterings of watching gentlemen in period costume are undeniable, and certainly far easier to comprehend when they aren't in powdered wigs and blusher. At which point, contemplating men in make-up you inevitably end up questioning your own sexuality.

The thing that spoiled the film for me though was some bright spark's decision to end it with a Smith's song over the end credits.

Yes it was a song with a reference to clothing which could be seen to neatly tie in with the story of Brummel, but surely there are other better songs out there that could have done the job just as well? ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man perhaps? Please, if you have any better suggestions let me know.

The 'wonder of the Smiths' has long been an anathema to me. I often feel when talking to a group of Smiths fans as though I have stumbled upon some sort of cult meeting; they all keep offering me the coolade but I'm having none of it.

Do not for one second think that I haven't tried to like the Smiths, I once sat in the relative captivity of a friends flat while she played 4 hours worth of their music at me, and at the end I still hated them. It's Morissey's voice. It's like a cheese grater on my soul. I feel slightly nauseous even thinking about him. I do think I'd quite like to punch him, even though I normally abhor violence of any sort, but in Morissey's case I think it could, just, be justified.

*Although his acting was very good. Oh why am I trying to make excuses? Sorry hobbit man, you just weren't right for the role.

Welcome To The Jungle

Ok what does a frustrated journalist do with themselves when they can't journalise?*
They set up a blog of course. Exactly what this blog will contain I cannot say, random ramblings in abundance certainly. Hopefully this may even turn out to be entertaining for you all. Welcome anyway to my humble blog, may you all return again and again to be dazzled by my brilliance.

Well a girl can dream can't she?

*Journalise. Is that even a word? I have a laisses-faire attitude to the English language as you will find out.