Ain't Got No Time For That

Left a fortnight between posts.  Again.  You know why?

BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE TIME!!!  As I get older, what little of it I am allotted per day is being condensed down into hours that feel like seconds; seconds that swirl rapidly down the plughole into oblivion faster than I can say "Agh!"  It's fucking terrifying. 

As kids, we don't believe our parents/grand parents/that old creep at the bus stop that time goes from "God, I'm so BORED" to "OhmyfuckingGod STOP!! I WANT TO GET OFF!!" in no time at all.  Great nights out that I reminisce about experiencing "a few months ago" are coming up on my Timehop app as being at their second anniversary.  

Kebabgate was how long ago??

Big life events like leaving school, graduating and learning to drive?  I don't even want to count how far back those things are.  Oh! Oh!  And that marathon I "just" ran?  About a year and a half ago.

My sentiments exactly, year-ago me.

I'm hyperventilating here at the flash forward I've just had of me,  five years from now, reading this exact post and thinking "but I only wrote this last week! What is this black magic?"  It's just...ugh!

As I'm hurtling through my life at Delorean speed (actually, maybe more like warp speed...didn't the Delorean only go to 66mph?  And it went back in time mostly.  Not forward.  Terrible metaphor, Becky.  Sort it out.  God), you'd have though I'd be a bit of an expert in prioritizing my most precious commodity in this wink of existence that is my life.  

So, am I any good at it?  I'll let you be the judge of that one.

 I present to you a list of what I do not have time for vs what I do.  Happy judging:

What I do not have time for

1.  Ironing -I really hope I'm not alone in this.  I buy my clothes based on whether or not I can get away with not ironing them because who wants to waste an hour of their day applying hot metal to fabric?  Not me.  Handy tip: stretchy, dark clothes are the best, because even if they're more creased than your great nan's elbows (heh.  You thought I was going to say worse then elbows, didn't you? Filth), you can stretch them right out!  The clothes, not the elbows.  Don't think your Nana would appreciate you tugging her excess skin this way and that.

2.  Cooking actual food - I had a toastie for dinner tonight.  Cheese and ham.  And then I ate some celery out of a bag.  I am trying to get better at the whole eating for actual, usable nutrition thing (like wot functioning grown-ups do)...I bought Lean in 15.  I fry the meats with the vegetables a couple of times a week. But mostly, I settle for the convenient.  The cheese and onion sandwich with the side order of cheese and onion crisps.  The cheese pastie.  Cheese on toast.  Basically, I have no time for any food that isn't cheese.

3.  Cleaning - I have a cat, a dog and a grown man who sheds more hair than the animals put together, so technically, I should be cleaning my house at least three times more than someone living alone.  Nah.  Instead, I glower at the fluff of mixed origins gathering between my toes, swear venomously at the dust that's piling up on every surface and chastise my belongings for not putting themselves away.  Then, in a fit of superhuman productivity (i.e when I've got something more pressing that I need to do that isn't cleaning), I will tornado round the house with a cleaning implement attached to each limb and smugly inform my boyfriend that I am better than him and he is lazy because "look how much I bloody well do around this place while you're sat there!  I'm a saint.  A SAINT!!"

4.  Coming up with neat blogging lists that end on nice numbers like 5 and 10 (as opposed to ending abruptly on weird ones like 4).

What I do have time for 

1. Talking (*cough* blogging *cough*) about all the things I don't have time to do - I have a pile of dishes to do, food shopping to gather and a dog to walk.  But...here I am!  Taa-daa...

2.  Sleeping - Anyone who's read this blog before will know I'm an expert napper.  I sleep like a performing acrobat on hallucinogenics (surprised I've not woken up on the ceiling yet), so naturally, my body feels that it's important to prioritize replenishing zzz's wherever possible.  Even if that is mid conversation at Andy's parents' house or when I'm sitting on the bed, about to put some socks on "to go to that important thing."

3.  Listing all the things that "I'll just do tomorrow." - This magical place called "tomorrow" is somewhere where Future Me is going to conquer the cleaning, the work load, the washing and the world!  It is a place of wonder.  A place of productivity.  A place where pigs might fucking fly.

4.  My phone -  Just had a thought.  What if time isn't getting faster, but instead phone apps are getting more absorbing?  Absorbing your attention, your time, your sense of reality... I'm sure I had a whole extra hour in the day before Pokemon Go came along.  Oh my God, that's it!  Quick, burn all the phones!  They are the vacuums into which our hours and days go to die!  Let us free ourselves from this electronic, wireless monkey cage! Let us...ooh, a text! BRB.

 



 

27 Wise, Wise Wisdoms

It's mah burfday in a few days, so am celebrating the fact that I've managed to get through another year without taking an anvil or grand piano to the head by writing my annual "Wise, Wise Wisdoms" post to tell you about the many, many important things that I've learned from birth, all the way up to right this second.

Right this second, I am guiltily stuffing melty (because I'm too impatient to wait for them to set) corn flake cakes into my mouth and swigging beer.  Probably not the actions of someone who is truly wise and all knowing, but you'll have to make do.  Or you could do an Amazon search for deeper musings.  But you'd have to pay for those, and proper books take so much longer to read, so...

Anyway, if you have to go, can you get me another corn flake cake on your way out?  Thanks, pal.

For those of you still here, here we go.

*rolls up chocolate smeared sleeves*

1.  If you have any kind of fitness regime, you can attribute any weight gain to "muscle is heavier than fat."  Even when you're suffering from pizza burps and reaching for the crisps drawer.  Denial is a beautiful thing.

2.  Acquiring a dog is more like having a child than you care to admit (despite your total lack of experience with children).  You have to remember when you fed it last.  Lie ins are no longer a thing, and you spend a surprising amount of time contemplating the consistency of and collecting poop (for the bin.  Not for actual poop collection).

3.  Beloved celebrities die with increasing frequency as you get older and every time someone like Rik Mayall/Robin Williams/Terry Pratchett buggers off to the VIP party in the sky, you will feel a bit of your soul go with them.  You will genuinely start to worry about how you'll manage to hold your shit together the day Jim Carey/David Attenborough/Harper Lee etc snuffs it.  Ugh.

4.  The closer you get to 30, the more shameless you get about your Bridget Jones-esque obsession with pop psychology books. Especially ones which are thinly veiled self help books.

5.  You are and always have secretly been Bridget Jones.  Those books are prophecy and not fiction as you originally believed.

6.  Jeans are the devil.

7.  Leggings are the way.  The ones that aren't see through anyway.  Those leggings are most definitely not the way.  The pants I buy aren't pretty enough for those.

8.  I have come to believe (furiously hope) that one day, active wear will merge with every day wear, so that we get to wear stretchy, luminous clothes all year round and never have to get changed for the gym.  The world will become a comfy, pretty, moisture-whicking place, and everyone will be nicer for it because their trousers are no longer leaving unforgiving seam marks in their flesh.

9.  Getting up at 5am for work isn't the living nightmare I thought it would be.  Being up at that hour grants you a certain smugness at having a more "up and at 'em" attitude than the actual sun.  Stupid, lazy sun.

10.  Twice daily dog walks aren't a chore.  I enjoy being walked more than the dog does.  I think that if these walks were to stop, I might start chewing the furniture.

11.  Despite years of people telling me how good Star Wars is and choosing to ignore them, I was still surprised that I liked them.  A lot.  Especially the old, old ones.  So much so, that I've asked to be taken to see the new one on my birthday.  Why didn't anyone tell me they were so entertaining?? Oh, wait...

12.  You must always have at least one smelly candle in the house at all times. I haven't figured out why yet, but I think this might be the secret to being an adult.  Or the secret to always being moments from burning your house down.  Depends how you look at it.

13.  The moment I tell myself I'm going to write anything longer than a blog post (i.e "that bloody novel"), I immediately freak out and stop writing anything altogether.  Including blog posts, journal entries and shopping lists.  May be better in the long run to leave the idea of "that bloody novel" alone.  It only wants to kill all of my productivity.  Stupid bloody novel.

14.  You're more likely to find happiness in small, everyday routines than in achieving the Big Thing that you've been telling yourself you need to do in order to be successful for years (bloody chuffing NOVEL!!).  I have a job I can get immersed in, a gym I can't stay away from, great friends and family, and a boyfriend that turns a blind eye when I steal from his weirdly untouched but ever growing stash of chocolates.  What more could I want?  Apart from more chocolates?

15.  No matter how much I try to convince myself that I will one day figure out how to "eat clean" (whatever the hell that entails), I will not be able to shake the fact that "bad food" is and always will be delicious as fuck.  Food is food and as long as I'm making as much effort to eat enough nutritious things to avoid rickets and/or scurvy during the day, I can have a few(hundred) corn flake cakes too.  Shut up!  Stop judging!  STOP LOOKING STOP LOOKING STOP LOOKING!! *stuffs fifth cake down own top in bid to hide it*

16.  These lists will get a little longer every year what with all the aging.  Now learning/realising that this post will get increasingly difficult to think up life lessons for every year I live.  Oh dear.  Must cram for wisdoms over the coming year.  Wisdom submissions throughout the year welcome, readers.  PLEASE GIVE ME WISDOMS TO STEAL! Err.  Borrow.  I'll pay you in corn flake cakes.  If there are any left.
 
17.  Commutes of over 20mins are great.  Audio book autobiographies and podcasts are even better.  I've taken car journeys with David Mitchell and Amy Poehler chatting away at me through my speakers.  Am so glamorous and cool now, driving with the stars. 

18.  Tiny jumpers immobilize cats: 

"The moment I am free from this contraption will be your last, human!"

19.  Along with the rest of the baffled Western world, I have found myself enjoying Justin Beiber songs more often than I like to admit.  I've now learned to accept that while I am not a true Belieber, I no longer deny  the talent of whoever writes his songs for him these days.  Damn it. 

20.  Much as I think I can, I cannot rap.  Or dance.  But at least questionable dancing can be made fun by enthusiasm.  Rapping can't.  Especially with an accent like mine.  I just sound like someone  who is furious that the cups aren't the right pattern at a tea party. 

21.  Weddings are the best kind of party to be a guest at. 

22.  A marathon is entirely possible to do =)

23.  Eurovision night should be made an international holiday, and the day after it should always be a bank holiday to facilitate hangover recovery and furious downloading of so-bad-they're-amazing songs (Except for German former winner Lena's Satellite, which is just pure brilliance... I almost typed "former German winner" there, but as far as I am aware, she's still very much a German).   

24.  I no longer want to be Beyonce.  I now want to be Amy Poehler and any one of the beast-women I saw on telly in the CrossFit games last year.  Amy Bro-ler...?  Whatever.  I want to be invincible, attractive in tiny shorts, clever and paid to make people laugh with my words. 

25.  Moving to a house that has curtains will not convince your mother that you are an adult who is capable of decorating their home.  Mostly because you aren't an adult who is capable of decorating your home. No, the smelly candle doesn't count as a decoration either.

26.  Finding notes you've written to yourself in your phone months after you've written them is hilarious when they're totally without context:

27.  It's  surprisingly easy to stop giving a shit about how you look. I've mostly stopped untagging unflattering pictures of myself on Facebook and find it much more fun just to point and laugh at my own malleable mess of a face.  Check out this beaut:

I'm sure sure someone out there "would"...maybe someone from the cast of Wallace & Gromit?

Also I would like to point out that this was taken at Christmas.  I don't have a special paper dinner hat that I wear at mealtimes.

 Well, I'd better start thinking about things I need to learn for next year's "28 wisdoms"....Not sure there's enough room for that many wisdoms in my brain.  Might have to delete that last season of Dexter to make space.  It was terrible anyway. Or is that only how my Virgin Media box works?

G'bye!

Too Old for this Ish

Current status:  Sitting with a bird's nest on top of my head and a cup of tea (cup of tea is on table, not head. Bird's nest not stable enough to stand hot beverages on). Fluffy dressing gown deployed.  Slippers are go.  I am one bad ass father-mucker.   Considering going for a 3 mile shuffle around the block, but the dressing gown might make me look a few chunks short of a stew.  

I can't handle hang overs any more.  I'm nearing my twenty eighth birthday and quickly realising that I'm no longer one of them "yoots" (innit).  Last week, I went to Cyprus to attend a friend's wedding, along with 40-odd other people.  It was a magical day: we laughed, we cried, A gave a best man's speech (he was actually best man. Didn't just bulldoze his way into the speeches for shits and giggles), we were flung around by traditional Cypriot dancers.  Much memories.  Such wedding.

It was the other 6 days that nearly had me crying to my mummy, clutching my poor, pickled liver.  I met some fantastic girls who had also come down for the occasion, but fuck me, they could drink! I thought I liked a bit of the falling down water, but these girls were in another league altogether.  Every night they had us piled into taxis to Ayia Napa for shots, shouts and shisha pipes (also dubious cocktails dispensed from giant, plastic cocks), and every night I had the kind of night where you go home with a sore face from smiling so much (or in my case, a sore face from tripping over my own feet and face planting a board walk.  Classy girl).  But the mornings.  I don't think there was a morning on that holiday where I didn't wake up with some degree of hang over.  They ranged from "Oof, my head's a bit hurty.  I think I'll sleep it off on the sun loungers" to 

"CALL AN AMBULANCE, I THINK THE ALIEN OFF OF ALIENS IS ABOUT TO BURST OUT OF MY STOMACH!!  SHUT THE WINDOWS! BRING ME FOOD.  DON'T LOOK AT MEEEEE!!!"

This enlightening experience has taught me that there are certain things I can't handle as well as I used to be able to as I clatter my way through adulthood.  Here goes, then:

Drinking

See above example.  Every time I go out, I now need at least 3 days to recover.  By no means have I stopped my beloved nights on the tiles, but the recovery time is much, much more grim that it used to be.  As a student, I could take full advantage of the drinks discounts on Student Night in town and then happily trot off to work in Debenhams the next day for my 9am shift.  Sure I had to spend the occasional 5 minutes hiding in the big, walk-in freezer going "Uuuuuunngh!", but it was mostly okay.  Nowadays, my hang overs span 3 phases over as many days:

Phase 1: The Hang Over - this is the part that is traditionally associated with the day after the night before.  Headache.  Stroppiness.  Desire to eat anything and everything at eye level.  Standard.

Phase 2: The Feels - This is like PMS on 'roids.  Am extremely sensitive and prone to getting a bit teary eyed at adverts.  "What do you mean stop crying?  SO many people haven't claimed back their PPI.  They could be owed thousands.  IT'S SO SAD!!"

Phase 3: The ZZZs - Feeling deceptively human, but so mentally drained that I can't remember basic vocabulary and the fact that I can't actually walk through walls.

Trying to be liked

Okay, yeah.  I'm a people pleaser, so part of me will always care at least a bit what people think of me.  I hate the idea of making someone feel bad or letting them down, even if by "letting someone down" I mean being a fraction of a second late to meet them for coffee.  But, I have given up on agonizing over whether people like me, which is an excellent development because it frees up my brain for higher purposes like deciding whether to grill or microwave my bacon or whether I should start wearing more hats.

It's not my business what a person thinks of me, and trying to force friendship on anyone only makes things worse. I'd like to think this lesson came to me because I'm maturing, but I think it has more to do with how cats react when I hug them too hard.

Sitting down without going "oof"

At what age did this become something I do??  I'm only twenty seven and I've already started making grandpa noises.  It's only a matter of time before I start standing in my doorway, shaking my fist and telling the neighbour kids to get off my damn lawn.

Getting up without saying "oof"

Same.

Mess

Much like with the drinking, this one's a bit hypocritical.  Am currently surrounded by the flotsam and jetsam of household crap that needs putting away/dusting/pushing under to bed to be ignored until I desperately need the thing and can't remember where the hell I put it so I have to go out and buy a new thing, only to find the old thing when I've already made the purchase of the new thing.  Difference is, mess never used to bother me.  It does now.  I'm hardly a domestic goddess (or anywhere in the hierarchy of domestic deities to be fair), but I can't relax when I'm surrounded by my own crap (as in stuff. I'm messy, not filthy).  I actually clean these days.  And sometimes... don't tell anyone... I enjoy it.

I know.  I know.  It sickens me too.

Welp.  I'll be off then.  Time to think about what I can drink tonight at Mr & Mrs Cyprus' home wedding do that will give me enough pretend confidence to attempt to force friendship on some more people, while I dig through a pile of clothes, looking for a particular pile of clothes within the pile of clothes.  I'd better get up now.

Oof.

 Cyprus, take me back!  I promise I'll behave this time!

Come to the Wrong Side. We Have Cookies.

Oh my lawd.  It's the weekend.  Sort of.  I still have to work a teeny tiny pretend shift on Saturday, but I'm relieved to be seeing a chunk of leisure time on the horizon at least.  It's not been a bad week as such.  Just a never ending merry-go-round of minor, avoidable mishaps.  For about one week in every four, I'll have one of these stints where every boiling hot coffee I make ends up more on my knees than in my mouth, and I turn up to work only to realise that I've got my underwear on backwards.  Not inside out.  Backwards.  I knew I hadn't put a thong on this morning!  

Tomorrow, resident man-boy is going on a night out and I'm excited to have the house to myself.  On a Saturday night, I plan to sit in my PJ's on the sofa, (where am less likely to encounter corners and things that I can trip over) watching 500 Days of Summer despite the fact that I know it back to front.  Much like my pants.  

Realising that the above (500 Days and a night of heavenly hermitude, not wearing underwear wrong) is my idea of a glorious Saturday night surprises me.  Only two or three years ago, I would be necking JagerBombs in panic at even the idea of having to spend a weekend *gasp* indoors(!).  

People sometimes casually drop the idea of being "the wrong side of [insert age here]" into conversation, which is stupid, because how can any age be wrong unless you're terrible at counting? However, I'm recently starting to see a noticeable difference between pre and post 25 me.  I wouldn't say I'm on the "wrong" side of 25, but I'm certainly on the comfier one.  I am going to document some differences between pre and post 25 year old me, because post 25 year me likes documenting things and lists.  Excuse me while I push my invisible spectacles up my nose:

Hang Overs

Pre 25: Hits pubs at every available opportunity (i.e "night time"), soldiers on through work four hours after last "sesh" ended with a bit of a headache and maybe a slightly more intense craving for McDonalds chicken nuggets than normal.  Worth it.

Post 25:  Still suffering the after effects of one night out that happened several days ago.  No amount of burgers and milkshakes can appease her.  Hates everyone.  Is never drinking again.  Wants another milkshake.  GET HER A MILKSHAKE!

Sleep

Pre 25:  Can get by on a few hours.  Bit grumpy, but will live.

Post 25:  No one who dares cross her path after less than seven hours' sleep will live.  You have been warned.

Emotions

Pre 25:  "I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS THAT I EVEN HAVE MULTIPLE COMPLEX FEELINGS ABOUT THE FEELINGS!!!!!

.....FEELINGS!!!!!!!!" 

Post 25:  "Something doesn't feel quite right inside.  Must be hungry."

Exercise

Pre 25:  Considers "dancing" (i.e flapping arms higher in the air to music with each drink) enough to burn off excess energy.  Also lifting heavy bricks of cheese to face is excellent weight training.  With this much calcium intake combined with all the lifting, am never going to get osteoperosis.  Hurrah!

Post 26:  Requires daily sweat-fest of some variety in order not to go ferile.  Bit like a dog.  Requires regular walkies and enjoys finding out new stuff that can accomplish with own body all the time.  Still enjoys flappy-arm drunk dancing, but not as solid a staple to exercise routine as once was.  Mostly because has to wedge feet into silly high heels to carry out activity.  Heels are silly. Wants cheese brick.  Mmm, cheese brick.

 

Example of what body can accomplish #1:  Becky prepares to lift the moon.

Self Image

Pre 25:  Is convinced that own body is betraying self by visually screaming its own flaws in poor onlookers' faces.  Spends inordinate amount of time hoping that no one notices how many things are wrong with own appearance and that dying hair a different colour every month will help to achieve this.

Post 25:  More concerned with what body can do (marathon/lift stuff over own head/open  jars to unlock gherkins and chilli peppers) than how it looks.  Occasionally disturbed, but mostly just amused at how funny looking self can be from certain angles, but would feel weird if suddenly had perfectly symmetrical features and/or massive boobies.  Wouldn't be self.  Brain no longer fights with body most of the time.  Too old for that shit.

...I'm so mature and wise now.  If I could only learn how to dress myself and not share my beverages with my lower body, I'd be a fully fledged grown up.

Now, who moved my colouring book?  I've got some serious art to tackle.  Did you know they do colouring books for adults now?!  I didn't until just this week.  Adult colouring books take the title of July's Best Discovery!

26 Wise, Wise Wisoms

Well, hello!  I did one of these posts around this time last year, where I gathered all the super-useful knowledge I'd gleaned from the 25 years on this planet and shared them with the whole world (or whatever corner of the internet this blog lives in).  I've just this week completed my 26th year on this planet, bringing me ever close to the big 3-0 (I'm not ready to be a grown-up!! Send help!), and it's time for me to take stock of the information I've hoarded and/or consolidated over the last 12 months.  I'm sure you will find this a very serious and scholarly list, reflecting my advancing years and wisdom.  

Or I'll just blurt out whatever comes to mind.  Whatever.  Happy learning!

1.  It is impossible to trick your metabolism.  After multiple attempts to fool my body into thinking cake = health giving treat, I can finally conclude that exercise and food that doesn't have cartoon characters on the packaging (I'm looking at you, Haribo bear, you adorable bastard) is the only way forward.  This upsets me, but it is unfortunately true.  It also makes me want cake.

2.  Lifting heavy shit is great fun and makes you feel like you have super powers.  Until the muscle soreness kicks in and the only thing you're able to reach in the shower is your chin.

3.  Even moderate drinking has to be paid for in spades.  Hurty, sleepy, binge eat-y spades.

4.  Of all the songs in the top 100 chart at any given time, I am familiar with approx 7, and actually enjoy about 3 of them.  I am no longer home with the downies. 

5.  Inappropriate games, like the brilliant Cards Against Humanity are much more fun when played with grandparents.  They are filth in its purest form.  Nothing is funnier that hearing your Nana announce to the room that she is a "motherfucking sorcerer."  Nothing.

 Cards Against Humanity.  Cards read "What do old people smell like?" & "My vagina"

See? A game suitable for all ages!

6.  I'm actually capable of relaxing if the weather is hot enough, and if I'm within 50 feet of a bar.

7.  A house isn't a home without a feline overlord.  Err, I mean pet.  Why did I say that?

8.  In order to live, I require food, water, physical activity...and Netflix.

9.  I still don't like football, and have this year saved copious amounts of time and energy by not trying to.

10.  Comics can be surprisingly educational and piss-takingly funny.  See: The Oatmeal.

11.  The grass is always greener on the other side. Cliche, but I often need to remind myself how good I've got things.  Particularly when I get itchy feet at work.

12.  Socks don't have to match, as long as they are vaguely the same length.

13.  Dominos Pizza makes my stomach revolt for days, but the call of the dough is too strong to resist.

14.  Eggs are fucking awesome!  I have recently developed very strong feelings towards them.  They are delicious nutrient filled apples from the butts of chickens.  Chicken butts of the world, I thank you!

15.  Mentally, I may well always be 15.  This is okay.

16.  It's surprisingly easy to put yourself in someone else's shoes with enough practice.  Particularly if they are a clown. 

17.  Life before American Horror Story was not life at all.

18.  I really, REALLY want to run a marathon.

19.  Sometimes, when you really, really want to run a marathon, you end up doing too much to soon, resulting in you hurting yourself and having to avoid activity altogether for a fortnight because of your stupidity.  Lesson learned at the physio clinic just this morning.  Am going to go insane, and have no one to blame but myself.  Stupid self.

20.  The desire for cute, fluffy pets only intensifies with age.  God, I wish I was allowed a puppy!! It doesn't even have to be a big one!

21.  Reading and running are the best forms of escapism by far.  But not at the same time, because manholes.

22.  The cliche about how you give fewer fucks about how you're perceived as you get older? True!  I cannot wait til all of my fucks have expired, and I'm a bad ass granny day drinking and cruising in my pimped out mobility scooter, calling out the "yoot" of the day for their follies.

23.  Intensity isn't always a good thing.

24.  Sisters are friends who are stuck with you for life.  They must be mined for entertainment at all times.

25.  I WILL be a zombie extra in a movie one day.  Even if it kills me.  Haw haw.  See what I did there?

26.  I am still not Beyonce.

25 Wise, Wise Wisdoms

As of tomorrow, I will have been a resident of planet Earth for 26 whole years.  I think I've done well to have not fallen down a manhole, or walked under a falling piano yet, and I fully believe that this deserves presents and flattery.  I'm quite the over achiever.

I've picked up a lot of info over the past just-over-quarter century.  Some of it useful. Most of it uselessly specific.

e.g, thanks to Tumblr, I now know that the best way to get away with murder is by having an icicle as your weapon of choice, as the evidence conveniently melts after said murder-doing.  

Don't cross me, World.  I have a collection of razor sharp Tip Tops in my arsenal.

...So, I thought to myself this morning:  "What better way to mark my crossing over into the second quarter of my life (I plan to live to bang on 100 and yes, fuss arses out there - I know that technically I entered my second quarter century when I hit 25.  Shut up), than to make a list of all the brilliant things I've soaked up so far?  That way, people will know that my vacant stare is more to do with my actual face that my lack of useable wisdom!"  Here is, then.  Prepare to be amazed!

1.  People don't like it when you bite your toenails off in front of them.  They don't even look mildly impressed at how bendy you are.

2.  Cats will never love you as much as you love them.

3.  Dinosaurs aren't coming back.  Get over it.

4.  Moving around is actually really rewarding, and helps keep the crazies under control. Running equals =D as opposed to #!!?**=(///#XP!!....

5.  People who regularly feel the need drop into conversation how nice/fun/"random" they are, are generally the total opposite and you should run very, very far away.

6.  The least flattering pyjamas are also guaranteed to be the most comfortable.  That shapeless, fluffy potato sack you bought on a whim?  The one with the cats on that makes you look like you have no boobs and four arses?  Put it on and I dare you not to immediately nap in it with a smile on your face.

7. Sober nights in playing scrabble and shouting at Take Me Out because "Look at that guy's stupid face!  It's so stupid!" are often way more enjoyable than getting obliterated and then throwing up your memories of that "great night out" the next morning.

8.  EVERYTHING costs money.  Lots of money that you don't have.

9.  Spiders bigger than your face, sitting nonchalantly on your head are fine.  Jellyfish on your TV screen will one day figure out how to break through the glass and attach themselves to your face.  It will happen.

10.  Seagulls are bastards.

11.  You should never take family for granted.  Especially when they always have food and offer to do your laundry.  They do want to cater to your every whim.  Honest.

12.  Love is comfort and the freedom to be yourself at all times.  Even if that means letting your significant other observe the fact that you short circuit when you try to eat and chat at the same time.  For the last time, I didn't pee myself, it was the sauce the mushrooms were in!!

13.  If you obsess over all the bad stuff that's going to happen to you, it's more likely to happen.  Blind optimism is preferable.  And if that doesn't work out, at least you can always blog about the shitty stuff in a bid for pity lolz.

14.  Unless you pay a man with a knife lots of money, you will always look like you.  A you that can be bigger or smaller, but still you.  So you'll have to make do! - Dr Suess (not really)

15.  You rhymes with You.

16.  Unless you are actually Beyonce, you will never be Beyonce.

17.  Humour and sarcasm trump any other kind of response.  Unless someone's just told you someone's died.  In which case, probably plump for sincerity.

18.  You don't need to impress people with your job role.  As long as you're happy with what you're doing to turn productivity into food, fuck everyone else.  Especially people with really cool jobs.  Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em in their smug little faces.

19.  Bit of a cliche - but nothing worth having comes easy.

20.  People who don't appreciate Monty Python are confusing to be around.

21.  Diets don't work.  Not eating Haribo and battenburg with every single meal does. Fascinating.

22.  Never try to second guess anything important.  You're probably wrong.  

23.  If you really, really wanted to be doing the thing, you'd be doing the thing.  Not just talking about how one day, you'd really, really like to do the thing, but you haven't got enough time/money/inspiration.

24.  You will never be free of the clutches of the internet.

25.  You haven't checked Facebook for five minutes.  Better check Facebook.


And there we have it!  A quarter century well lived, I think!  In my next, I hope to learn lots more stuff, like how to not wait until my house covered in a thick layer of dust and carpet fluff before I clean it.  And what the secret is of people my age who already own their own house while I'm still bloody renting off a lady who won't even let me have a cat.  Maybe I'll even figure out how to cross number 16 off the above list and actually become Beyonce.  Who knows.

Happy Sunday to you and happy almost-birthday to me!

Not that I'm milking it.

PRESENTS!!!

Here is a classy picture of me from last year's birthday festivities for you to enjoy.

Hangin' Over with Becky Attenborough

Well, I promised you a post on hang overs, so that's what yer gett'n!

I turned twenty five this weekend (yes, you may shower me with praise and gifts even though it was yesterday), and while I can't say that age has brought me much more wisdom than "try to avoid cutting your own fringe where possible", it has introduced me to a glittering new array of hang-overs to enjoy. Long gone are the days where I could pickle my liver and still get up at seven a.m the following day for a twelve hour shift. Instead, I get my ass kicked by my own body for at least twenty four hours (generally, mine are two-dayers; initial hangover followed by a day of total lethargy and low level to moderate depression).

I have compiled a list of the most common hang overs I experience after a night on the dizzy water (vom juice/ fall-over tonic, whatever) and, like the legendary Sir David Attenborough, I will .....

Woah! Hang on...the iPad recognised I was typing Attenborough before I even finished!! How cool is that?! Being a big enough deal to be pre-programmed into Apple's dictionary, that...wow. That blew my tiny mind! I salute you, David Attenborough!

Where was I? Right. So. Like David Attenborough (I only had to type in the first 5 letters... It could have picked "attention" or "attend", but no...), I will describe a few breeds within the hangover species so that you may recognise them better in future. Please be aware that this species often form muttish hybrids and so can come as delightful cobi-hang-overs on occasion. Pain shared is...pain halved? That's a saying, right?

Right??


1. Hangover 1: The Munch Seeker

This particular breed of hang over wakes you up by telling your brain it needs food IMMEDIATELY. And lots of it. But it doesn't just want any food. It will have a very specific combination of food in mind, and will have you devouring anything in your path until you figure out what it is. I had this this weekend. It took me a full day of eating cake, pickles, chips, bread dipped in various condiments, face licking etc, until I realised what I really wanted was a Greggs corned beef pasty dipped in mustard. Duh.

2. Hangover 2: The Weeper

You will wake up feeling fine. Until the realisation hits you that everything is like, just, so fucking SAD!! And so, so unfair! Life is horrible and everyone hates you, and you can't even eat your sorrows away because you're a fat, disgusting alcoholic that no one does or ever will love. Waaaah! Etc. etc.

Then you will have a bacon sandwich and two or three naps, and everything will be fine.

3. Hangover 3: The immobiliser

Don't open eyes. Will hurt. Don't eat anything. Will spew. Don't.... Just don't do anything if you suspect you have one of these. How will you know if you do? Move your eyeballs around under your closed eyelids. Hurty? If so, anything more that you do will hurt ten bazillion times more. Best just lie there and accept your fate until it passes or you die from it. Either way, no more hurts! Win/win.

4. Hangover 4: I'm Fiiiiine!

No, dear, you're far from fine. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you, naive soul, are still drunk. Or Pre-twenties (in which case *death glare*... Soon, Fool. Soon). Either way, enjoy the numbness while you can. Because you're in for a world of pain.




So...yep. Those are what I inflict upon myself these days every time i decide to indulge in a little casual binge drinking. So far, I have found no better cure than incessant and self-pitying wailing and eating, so I can't offer you too much advice on that front... I could go on and add more colourful characters to the hang over spectrum but frankly, I'm a bit sleepy and feel a nap coming on. Old age, see.