tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2009-11-09:/Musings and amusing things. Maybe. Well, it sounded good at the time.MokoFeed2009-11-09T12:36:58+01:00tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-10-24:/2007/10/24/so~3188030/MashedPotato2007-10-24T15:03:24+02:002007-10-24T15:03:24+02:00 <p>My minds gone blank. Sorry. <img src="/img/smilies/icon_lol.gif" alt=":DD" class="middle" border="0"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/10/24/so~3188030/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-10-14:/2007/10/14/title~3134365/MashedPotato2007-10-14T15:44:29+02:002007-10-14T15:44:29+02:00 <p>I'm thinking I want to volunteer next year for a few months. Why is it so darn expensive. I have been thinking about it for a while, and this time next year I will have no monthly debt repayments so i don't need to earn an income. I caught an episode of Oprah the other morning and there was a story by a lady from India who when she was young was sold into slavery and it made me think about volunteering in India. I'd also be happy to do anything, from teaching to building to farming. But I have one question: why is it so expensive?!</p> <p>I mean, it's cheaper to go travelling which I am now thinking is a better option, then maybe along the way I can help out somewhere. To me it is non-sensical. I understand there are costs to be covered, and I am of course happy to pay visa, flights, rent, administrative costs, but I refuse to pay a weekly sum to volunteer. Does that make me a bad person?</p> <p>I'm so freakin' hungover I really can't be arsed to write anything else. I've got the shakes, none of my limbs seem to be functioning and I'm so so so tired. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/10/14/title~3134365/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-10-12:/2007/10/12/title~3125084/MashedPotato2007-10-12T15:13:17+02:002007-10-12T15:14:11+02:00 <p>There are people that make you happy without them even knowing it. Whenever I go into the Family Mart on the corner of the street the same lady is always in there. She must work long hours as she is often there when I leave for work, and when I return home. She doesn't speak English, I don't (yet) speak Korean, but so is so friendly. I just went and purchased some crisps and she gave me a bundle of ketchup sachets (not sure why). I don't even have to ask for cigarettes anymore, she just reaches in automatically and puts them on the counter. Now this may not seem like much but in a country where you receive a lot of looks and laughs for being a foreigner it is a welcome relief.</p> <p>I was sat round the corner from where I work smoking a cigarette and this old man, maybe in his 70's walks past pulling a trolley and gives me a big grin and points and me, then his heart and shakes his head. I nod my head in agreement - smoking is bad. This really made me smile because for a female to be smoking in korea is frowned upon, but he was more concerned with the health risks then the person that was smoking the cigarette, which was a welcome relief.</p> <p>I still haven't figured Korea out yet. I've already said it is very different from Japan. The people, the culture, it's all different. It varies from extreme rudeness, mild rudeness to helpful and kind. Maybe in a few more months I will have a better average.</p> <p>Oh, and the humidity has vanished. It happened on Tuesday. A cooler breeze now fills the air but it means the natural curl in my hair that the humidity sets off has fallen flat and my hair is like a rats tail again. All hail the summer, come on through!</p> <p>In a flat mood today, I was up very early, had a long day and the worst day at work so far and have had some abnormal leg shakings when I walk. Psycho? Uh-huh. <img src="/img/smilies/graybigeek.gif" alt="88|" class="middle" border="0"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/10/12/title~3125084/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-10-07:/2007/10/07/title~3096377/MashedPotato2007-10-07T06:13:19+02:002007-10-12T15:14:43+02:00 <p>Oh, hello! How are ya?</p> <p>I am chillin' like a villain. My god, what an awful phrase. </p> <p>I am sitting watching a style programme in Korean. I cannot understand a word, but I can't be arsed to turn the television off. It's the background to my life. Is that bad? I should be listening to music really but the music player is hidden in my bag and that's miles away from where I am and now I am sitting soooo ... can I reach for it? No. Because it involves getting up.</p> <p>I wish I still had the energy of a child. When laziness doesn't really enter your head and you are excited about everything and you throw yourself into everything without a care in the world.</p> <p>Then you hit school and suddenly image is everything because it becomes a survival technique. You have to have the right bag to carry your PE Kit around. When I was at school it was River Island or TopShop. God help you if you carried your sports kit around in a Sainsburys carrier bag. Or maybe I was just succeptable (argh - spelling?!) to it. I think it is all a confidence thing. If you had a River Island bag you just blended in. The Sainsburys bag, with a bunch of confidence and a loud personality would see you through. A Sainsburys bag with no persoanlity meant you were, well, doomed.</p> <p>Who are these people? What are they doing now, the bullys? When Friends Reunited first started someone sent round an invitation to try and sort out a school reunion. Erm, hello, you were one of the least liked people in our year. Who's going to be stupid enough to go to anything you organise? </p> <p>One thing I love about Facebook is seeing how people are doing now, what they look like, etc. The unpopular ones are now blossoming and the popular ones, well, jsut look pretty rough. I guess it's a karma thing. I was pretty average then and pretty average now. Though I do wonder how personalities have changed. Are the annoying ones still annoying, are the funny ones still funny? It's hard to tell whether these personality traits were just labelled on others by a few, and as an average student like me and others like me, just followed with these personality traits or decided them on our own. Because when I think back now some of the funny ones you laughed at weren't actually funny, they were complete idiots, but you laughed because everyone else was laughing.</p> <p>Oh, I guess I sound like a complete follower, completely meek unable to stand up myself and unable to stand up for others. That's not completely true so please don't judge too quickly!</p> <p>It's funny how often, through life, we try to be accepted, to be liked. There are days when all you want to do is fit in because you want an easy time, and there are days when you really want to stnad out and really don't care. Up and down, peaks and valleys. We are never constant.</p> <p>I, for instance, often worry about the little things that woouldn't ever enter the minds of others. I remember once going through a phase of complete nervousness with automtic doors. In M&S, walking up to them, praying they would open. Please open, I would implore, so I wouldn't look stupid. Then because I had been thiking about it so much the doors would open and I would physically jump because I was in such a high state of nervousness. Now it's not something that would even enter my head. If the doors didn't work, you go out another door. The worlds not likely to end is it. I guess it's similar to confronting your fears. I mean, what do you think is going to happen? Will you die? Probably not. Will you suffer some humiliation? Maybe. Will you get over the humiliation? Of course.</p> <p>Our minds are fickle instruments, often not working the way we want them to. <img src="/img/smilies/icon_rolleyes.gif" alt=":roll:" class="middle" border="0"> And if you have no confidence? Fake it. It's amazing the reception you get.</p> <p>Sorry, now I have started, I can't stop. I remember going on a works drinks night out when I worked for a privately owned company where a lot of the people were up their own arse. I would stand on the sidelines. Everyone is saying 'c'mon, join in'. The point was, I didn't want to. I didn't like a lot of the conversation, it wasn't interesting, and I didn't like many of the people. Why did I go? Exactly ... this is what I am now thinking. But then it was like I got labelled with no confidence in social situations and I was like jeez, don't you people realise it's because you're dull? <img src="/img/smilies/icon_yawn.gif" alt=":yawn:" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>Anyway, essay over. FINALLY!! <img src="/img/smilies/icon_wave.gif" alt=":wave:" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/10/07/title~3096377/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-09-17:/2007/09/17/these_streets~2994515/MashedPotato2007-09-17T16:36:02+02:002007-09-17T16:36:02+02:00 <p> Well hello, long time of no chat with oneself.</p> <p>So, I have now touched down on new soil, hence the long absence. I'm back in Asia, in South Korea and a few weeks into my year here. It's been quite an auspicious start (is that the right word?). Within the first week I flooded a toilet in a restaurant, smashed a beer in the convenience store and went shopping with no money. In the second week I jammed some coins in the machine you dance on (aka the 'dance-a-tron' maybe?) and found a large knife in my post box. This week I fell asleep on a train and went flying passed my stop and today I was attacked by a rat at the bus stop. SO in all in all it should be an interesting year if it carries on this way.</p> <p>What can I say about Korea. The buses are almost death mobiles, the drivers in general are all maniacs. Red light? Ahh, let's run it and hope for the best. The transport is darn well cheap as chips. For their price you can throw in some fish as well. The food on the whole is pretty good. Don't think I have eaten dog yet but have dipped into a bit of raw beef. Delicacy don't cha know.</p> <p>I keep walking around making several comparisons with Japan, seeing as they are nearly neighbours and all, and strangely they are completely different, but I'll leave the differences for when I am completely uninspired and simply write a long list.</p> <p>Oh, but I have been keeping up with the news a lot more. I know that Greenland can now grow potatoes because of global warming. Oh yeah.</p> <p><img src="/img/smilies/icon_eek.gif" alt="8|" class="middle" border="0"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/09/17/these_streets~2994515/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-16:/2007/08/16/stressed~2820880/MashedPotato2007-08-16T22:12:31+02:002007-08-16T22:12:31+02:00 <p>Gosh, it's been a while. Have you missed me? Oh, don't cry, I'm back now. There there. Yes.</p> <p>I've just been, like, sooooo busy man. I leave for South Korea next week, and I have sooooo much to do and soooooo little time. I think for the first time in my life I am feeling a little stressed. Or pumped with excitement. Can't decide.</p> <p>My hair has been a little transformed which is good. It's been cut, so it looks a lot healthier, and I have also died it so it appears to have this etheral glow about it ... yes, I am special.</p> <p>I'm sorry, I can't think what to write. I am so on edge I can't concentrate on anything. Off to a wedding this weekend and when that has finished I will be ready to realx for two days before jetting off. Everything is happening too soon and I am so unprepared. The embassey has still got my passport as well, keeping my fingers crossed that comes back in time or else I am screwed, royally screwed. The bank isn't paying me any money back because they are waiting for the general ruling in the court (I think with the Ombudsman and FSA?) and I am owed three weeks job seekers allowance which they have today told me I can't have because my application was filled out incorrectly. What the fuck? You go in there and they go through it with you, so HOW is it filled out incorrectly? Haven't got my outfit for the wedding, have to buy that tomorrow. They paid my wages for temping into the wrong bank account so I don't have access to it, it all sucks. Work is constantly taking the piss out of everything I do and it's draining me, but at the same time it is the only thing that has been keeping me alive.</p> <p>So busy, so little time to amuse. Hearty apologies ... </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/16/stressed~2820880/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-05:/2007/08/05/cleaning_and_ironing_money~2760948/MashedPotato2007-08-05T22:19:02+02:002007-08-05T22:19:02+02:00 <p>The time on the microwave reads 6:01. That means it's been six hours and 1 minute since the flash powercut.</p> <p>I was studiously watching the advert for Cillit Bang today. Were I an affluential house owner, I would definitely have that in my cleaning cupboard. But then a thought struck me. It showed two perfectly manicured fingers dipping a 1p coin into Cillit Bang, and the half that was dipped came out bright and shiny, oooo, so beautiful! I think all banks and shops should clean all their money! Think how beautiful Britain would be then. Beautiful Britain, with its shiny coins, known the world over for the care it takes with it's money. When you paid for something, it would be like receiving a present when you get your shiny coin back. As a nation (yes, I speak for all of us) we might silently think or comment aloud 'that's a shiny coin'. It could make some people's days and the world would be a happier place. Therefore I make a motion that all places dealing with money should have a vat of Cillit Bang somewhere in the back room to clean up their coins. Oh, and maybe an iron for the notes. Yes.</p> <p>It's been luuuurvely weather today. The bright sunshine, the light breeze that was strong enough to knock over the tall, sweet-scented, stand alone plants that feature on the concrete part of the garden, and the cloudless sky. Oh, if only there had been a full roast dinner to go with that with a choice of three different meats and the day would have been complete. As it was I ate a Thai curry, which until now I did forget about but it was extremely tasty.</p> <p>So, I am off to do some cleaning and ironing, slaters.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/05/cleaning_and_ironing_money~2760948/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-04:/2007/08/04/not_a_serious_piece~2752500/MashedPotato2007-08-04T02:38:41+02:002007-08-04T02:38:41+02:00 <p>I sat here thinking, hmm, maybe I should write a serious piece for a change. Pah! Who needs serious, life is too serious in every possible way with its mortgages, debts, taxes, work. So my piece about on-line shopping has now been put on the backburner <img src="/img/smilies/icon_lol.gif" alt=":DD" class="middle" border="0">. Grateful? Uh-huh.</p> <p>Ooooo, I know, let's talk about shopping! No, football! No, shopping! No, football! No, shopping. Ha! See what I did there? Do ya? Hmm, I'm not convinced. <img src="/img/smilies/grayuhoh.gif" alt="U-(" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>C'mon folks! Let's think up, up, up not down, down, down! I know! Let's think hot air balloons! Although hot air balloons now either remind me of the story by Ian McEwan, Enduring Love (also a film) where the guy dies by trying to hold onto a balloon and as he drops to the floor his body kind of folds into itself, eeew (good book though) and it also reminds me of Richard Branson and his Virgin company. Neither of which are positive.</p> <p>Lets pretend we are in a balloon. Let's pretend we are sky sailing over green pastures or cityscapes. Let's pretend the day is warm, the sun is shining, the sky is brilliant, bathroom blue, but yet some mother nature perfectly moulded bright white clouds perforate our sky. We are high above it all with not a care in the world with loved ones, friends, family, and the pet rabbit that won't stop trying to burrow in the floor of the basket. Ahh, blissful days.</p> <p>Aren't cha all happy now? <img src="/img/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" alt=":D" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/04/not_a_serious_piece~2752500/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-03:/2007/08/03/title~2751286/MashedPotato2007-08-03T20:06:55+02:002007-08-03T20:09:10+02:00 <p>'High on a hill on a lonely tree top' ... are they the words? That's what I always sing anyway. I used to have my own words to Phantom of the Opera too, gliding around the house singing, deciding I belong on stage. The stars in the sky were glittering, as was my pinkish/peach star on that road in L.A. Oh, everything just felt so right.</p> <p>When does a dream stop becoming a dream? I don't think it ever does. I mean, I would love to appear in the West End now as Mary Poppins (of course, I'd be great). Or maybe the lead in Chicago, oh, what a foxy chick I'd make caked in make-up and leather.</p> <p>Hmm, maybe I could make it as a leading designer. Ha, you normal people you, I'm going to design some unwearable, unpractical, ridiculously overpriced piece of clothing and you, my friends, are going to wear the high street cheap copies and when I walk through the streets of London I'm going to hide my smirk behind my hand as I watch you all go past, unable to walk in your absurdly high heels, clashing oranges and pinks. Yeah.</p> <p>Is a blog a spot to moan, that's all I ever seem to end up doing! I'm not too into fashion, but I love the tops at the moment because they are really long, and being tall it's about time I can buy a t-shirt without worrying that my itsy bitsy wine belly will be flaunted to the world. ARRGGGHHH! People would've screamed and pointed! What is that?! ARRGGGHHH! It's the attack of the blob! Oh, don't be so down on yourself, I hear you willing me to reassure myself. Jeez, I was simply exaggerating. I've got an average, wibbly belly. Hoo-fucking-rah.</p> <p><img src="/img/smilies/icon_arrow.gif" alt="=>" class="middle" border="0"> EXIT</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/03/title~2751286/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-02:/2007/08/02/insects~2746799/MashedPotato2007-08-02T23:38:51+02:002007-08-02T23:38:51+02:00 <p>Oh my good lord, I have just been bitten by a mosquito on each arm, and I do feel it was the same one! The cheek of the little blood sucker. There it perches, happily on my arm and I feel a sharp sting, look down and lo and behold there is something sharing my blood, through my cardigan I might add! Five minutes later, I am sat here and feel another shapr sting, this time on the right arm, and lo and behold, there he is again! What a filthy beast (even though it <em>does</em> have good taste <img src="/img/smilies/icon_wink.gif" alt=";)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>Oh, excellent, I have just noticed all the smilies.</p> <p><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"> Whoah! It's a techno dancer. He's at a rave.</p> <p>I was actually gonna sit here and think of a witty line for each one, but I might save that for the weekend, don't want to overload your poor readers.</p> <p>I hate having an insect on me, because then you just feel itchy for ages afterwards. Every slight move and you twat yourself with your hand causing unneccesary pain and effort. Suddenly there are a thousand creepy crawlies all over your body, you're itching your head and generally cosntantly shifting in your seat. See, I am itching an eye brow now. Before it was my back.</p> <p>The other day I put on my PJ's and what do I feel crawling? No, not an orangutan. A spider. One of those small, fast, brownish, triangular shaped body ones. Oh, that's just crawled on me body. So then of course I had to go and shake various other items of clothing just for the hell of it, you know, why not eh?! It gives me the creeps <img src="/img/smilies/graybigeek.gif" alt="88|" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>The worst is lying in bed, and looking up and noticing something crawling. So you put the light on and the spider increases in size and it just happens to be above your head but you don't want to move it in case it drops on the bed and you lose it so you get the vacuum and suck the bastard up. This may sound a wee bit cruel but I am not wanting to encourage Mr or Mrs spider to crawl on me in my sleep, thanks very much <img src="/img/smilies/icon_eek.gif" alt="8|" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>Oh ggooooooooodddddddddd. Now my freakin' ear is itching.</p> <p>Anyway, gonna go again before I overdo the smiley usage. Over and out.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/02/insects~2746799/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-02:/2007/08/02/ramblings~2744703/MashedPotato2007-08-02T16:45:15+02:002007-08-02T16:45:15+02:00 <p>There are always things we see which we make a mental note of and then promptly forget. For instance, when sitting on the toilet, I glance at the cobwebs I can see behind the sink, and always think I must get rid of those. But then you instantly forget it.</p> <p>In the bathroom of my parents home, which incidentally, I offered to paint, I always feel builty because I always notice the obvious lines and bumps of where I slopped the paint on that would be hard to get rid of. You betcha life they would've completed it better!</p> <p>On a high today, had a humrous day of work joke bashing across the office. Just the three of us, scrawny lady (who unfortunately did come back to work) is off on Thursdays so it's party times! Bet out those jelly babies, yeah!</p> <p>All I have to do now is wait to hear back from S.Korea to know that the next phase of life is well underway.</p> <p>I think I am going to start a thought of the day, or more like information for the day section of the blog. Of course, it will be useful Me information, ho ho ho, but hell, why not?!</p> <p>A guy at work cannot stop saying Whhheeeyyyy in a deafening tone. I think I might have to hit him with the printer.</p> <p>Ciao for now! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/02/ramblings~2744703/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-08-01:/2007/08/01/fun_dreams_and_crispy_crisps~2740443/MashedPotato2007-08-01T20:48:25+02:002007-08-01T20:48:25+02:00 <p>Ohh, that's sad. I just tried to upload a picture so everyone could compliment me on it, but alas, it has failed. I shall now retreat into my shell and drink a coca-cola and eat a packet of crisps. Sniff.</p> <p>Had a weird day today. The routine of work has already seeped into my system and I slept through my alarm this morning. I mean, I didn't go to bed that late, maybe the alarm wasn't loud enough, I don't really know, but it was going for half an hour before I actually woke up, so I looked even worse than normal, after my shower there were still pillow creases on my face, ahh, cutey wutey, pinch those cheeks!</p> <p>It's fun, fun, fun with the food at the moment. At work I ate Bassets 'Party Babies', and I have just eaten a bag of 'Discos' crisps. Whoah, mama, pipe down with that wickedy whackedy sense of fun.</p> <p>Suddenly realised how little time I have left in England before I jet off again - yup, going back to Asia to live the life of ease in roughly arouns three weeks! Not long - there is so much I want to buy before I go as well, but there is no time and no money, oohh err!</p> <p>The other night I dreamed I had dandruff. What does that mean? And whenever I am talking to someone on the phone I always doodle pictures of arrows. Someone said it's probably because I want to get out of the place and my mind is secretely saying 'the door is that way'. Hmm, maybe I should check which way the arrows are facing, har har, 'cause one day I might just act on those arrows and I don't wanna be climing out no windows, no sirree. Plus, the window in the office is quite high off the ground on the outside side, the inside side is OK. Stairs ot the office see? Like a mezzanine floor.</p> <p>Off to download music onto my MP3 player, well, not off anywhere really, I simply sit right where I am and only my arms and hands move, so I guess that doesn't really count as being off somewhere, does it. Oh, I am tired and repitive. Oh, I am tired and repitive. Oh, I am tired and repitive. Oh, I am tired and repitive. ENOUGH! Bye. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/08/01/fun_dreams_and_crispy_crisps~2740443/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-31:/2007/07/31/untitled~2735528/MashedPotato2007-07-31T23:35:58+02:002007-07-31T23:35:58+02:00 <p>So, the toilet was talking to me today. It has started to make this eerie noise which makes you a bit weary when you are in the house on your own. Eek! Eek! Eek!</p> <p>Finished Potter last night, so have been super tired at work all day which wasn't good, but it was topped off by the most grouchy woman at work. I mean, come on, she sat there and didn't say a word in an office of three people for six hours. She scares me. Boss reckons she won't be back tomorrow - wheh hey - as she cleared out some of her drawers - I'm thinking she's got issues. No, issues, not tissues. Hmm, maybe she left some tissues behind, always good for random sneezing fits.</p> <p>Getting my hair cut this week, can't bloody wait. I was the last person that cut it, thought I did a pretty good job, actually. I know what you're thinking, cheap bitch can't even get herself a lousy haircut! But, it's because I was in Japan and they aren't the best at cutting western hair. The last time I went in they thought my hair was super thick, when it's actually super thin, and razored and layered and all sorts - it was a bit scary. Although the hair washing part was good, though it came after the haircut, random but true.</p> <p>Had a sausage role for the first time on over a year today. Think it's doing funny things to my stomach. Might stick to a MacDonalds lunch, I am loving their sweet chilli chicken deli burger thing at the moment, ohh, simply scrumptious!</p> <p>Toodle pip. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/31/untitled~2735528/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-31:/2007/07/31/title~2730135/MashedPotato2007-07-31T01:55:45+02:002007-07-31T01:57:56+02:00 <p>Sometimes, you're just feeling so upbeat nowt can beat you down. Driving today, listening to Mr Nutini on the stereo, the bright, round yellow sun (who needs fancy descriptive words!) was sinking in front of me, and it actually cast a warm glow over the surrounding trees and in my thoughts. Ahh, lovely! Sometimes you have to just give in the joys of the world and appreciate them!</p> <p>I am loving the clear, blue sky, and the big, fat, fluffy bright white clouds. They offset each other and are a great roof to a jolly life!</p> <p>Saw two rainbows on Saturday, haven't seen a rainbow in England-o for a long time.</p> <p>Life is just, well, damn well crispy. You wanna grab it. Take the highs with the lows.</p> <p>A-ha, now there is something. You apply for a job. People say 'don't get your hopes up', but what the hell else are you gonna do. Stay constant and feel no emotion? The excitement of waiting gets you high. Sure, if you don't get it, you feel low, but it's to appreciate the high, you just aren't allowed to dwell on the low, and because you have been high and low before you know you will come up, you just have to have faith in your own logical well-being. And, you never know, you might get the job and simply fly even higher. Get it? Good, give yourself a pat on the back.</p> <p>Now, due to lack of sleep I will probably be in a grump tomorrow, will let you know. Keep updated here, on channel blog news. Goodnight, and thank you for reading. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/31/title~2730135/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-28:/2007/07/28/title~2714366/MashedPotato2007-07-28T02:26:19+02:002007-07-28T02:28:56+02:00 <p>Ooohh, I hate thinking thoughts and then forgetting to write them down and then I think I had a thought and it was a good thought but I'll be damned if I can remember that thought.</p> <p>We forget sounds! I forget the precise noise of a telephone that I remember playing several days a day at the reception of the school I worked at in Japan. I remember trying to ingrain it in my brain because it was irritating and that one day I would look back and it would make me smile. I forgot the annoying jingle they kept playing outside the computer store.</p> <p>Another contradiction coming up. Saying we forget sounds, I remember the sound of people's voices. When I read something they have written, I picture the person and read it in my head but it takes on their tone, accent and inflections. </p> <p>I always thought that songs are really easy to remember. The tune, the beat and the words. They are constantly replayed over and over, even songs you don't like are generally fairly easy to sing along to. This is what they should do with the school curriculum. Then far more people would retain more of the knowledge that is delivered. I remember the words of songs from years back, and I am sure you do too. Then if they took my advice on board, ten years down the line I would still remember the rules of grammar, which when teaching I realised I didn't know, I just use them automatically (if someone asks the question why? I don't know the answer. It 'sounds' wrong isn't really adequate for an advanced level student). I'd also know a little more history and a little more geography.</p> <p>This raises another question. Do we only remember when we find interesting, or is it that we read something time and time and eventually it takes up a part of our brain and it cannot be erased?</p> <p>Oh, I should have been a philospher, I think I would be good. I read Sophie's world and loved it, so I purchased a simple Intro to Philosophy book which I still haven't read, two years on. But damn, eventually I will get arouns to it!</p> <p>Do you notice how I seem to think I would be good at everything? Funny huh? Well, not amusing at all really. Tee hee. See, a mere minor laugh.</p> <p>Now, be off with you, this gal has got the final installment of Potter to read. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/28/title~2714366/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-27:/2007/07/27/general_observations~2713479/MashedPotato2007-07-27T21:46:48+02:002007-07-27T21:46:48+02:00 <p>DJ's that can't dance. What's that about? Music is their life, pumping on the stereo in front of a wild, high on something crowd. I'm not talking DJ's that sit in a room and broadcast something on air - fool - but the ones you find at live events, spinning their records, or playing music off their laptop 'cause that really gets the vibes going man, psychedellic dude. Again, of the many things I would've liked to have been a DJ is one of them. Spinning tunes. Maybe Hakuna Mutata (?) followed by Eric Clapton, or just mixed together with the occasional sound of marbles dropping on the floor at irregular intervals and then playing the whole thing on <em>fast forward</em>. Wow, that even looks the button on my stereo, I am SO cool.</p> <p>Mosquitos this year are a lot bigger than last year. And a lot louder. See previous post for a more inciteful discussion regarding the disease carriers.</p> <p>Overtake a bike in your car, stop at the traffic lights soon after, and you have to overtake the same bike again. Sheesh, what a pavlova.</p> <p>The word qi exisists in scrabble, as does ae.</p> <p>And if anyone asks, smoking is bad for you, especially when you use a match that when you strike into your body (well, you've disregarded thoughts of internal health, you might as well set fire to yourself too) a small spark flies into your unkempt hair and you throw your head about, but alas! too late. The smell of burning hair is in the air. A while back I was in a club and borrowed a lighter of someone who was sitting down. I had to lean over some railings and then there was a definite smell of burnt hair. Thank the lord I don't wear hairspray, hallelujah. Although I suppose no-one wears hairspray. No-one has a can strapped to their head or anything. One of my friends every day uses half a bottle of mousse on her hair. It's like she's going through the foam part of Funhouse or something. But her hair never looks greasy and always looks really good. Oh yah, just like mine yah, a flick here, a flick there, like I've just stepped out of a salon. Always baby.</p> <p>I love clear, crisp blue skies. You really appreciate them after having lived in Japan which is as overcast as the ringroad in coventry.</p> <p>Toodle pip, off to start Harry Potter. Tried reading it earlier, but again I fell asleep the loser that I am. I tell yee, it's the work life. Bloody knackering. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/27/general_observations~2713479/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-26:/2007/07/26/where_are_you_from~2708176/MashedPotato2007-07-26T23:42:46+02:002007-07-26T23:42:46+02:00 <p>I was asked today if my parents were from England or not. Actually, they both aren't English I started to say, until I was interrupted, upon which point one of my new colleagues tried to guess where they were from. Greece? No. Italy? No. Spain? No. Portugal? No. France? No. So in the end I had to give it to them. My mum is from Finland. Yes, that's right. I am totally exotic.</p> <p>Now lets take a moment, and think about our general impressions. When we think of someone from Italy, Spain, we think dark hair, tanned. What about someone from Greece? What does the typical greek look like? This I am interested in because that was the first guess. Dark hair? Tanned? A funny nose? Oh, the mind boggles! And then on the flip side. Someone from Scandinavia. Tall, blonde. Well I am tall, but certainly not blonde. Think that had them a bit stumped.</p> <p>I got home todauy, had my dinner and then promptly fell asleep again. This is not good.</p> <p>Questions after questions at work. Why are you temping? What do you like? What do your parents do? Where did you go to uni? What did you study? Argh! Gimme a break. I just wanna go in, do some work, get paid for it, and then go home. Simple. At least it's a laid back office which is good.</p> <p>Not much inspirational thought tonight.</p> <p>Oh god, that and the fact that apparantly I look like I constantly want to punch someone. I can't help it, that miserable face rears its ugly head again, har har! There's nowt I can do about it. If I am sat there looking at my computer screen, I don't give a second thought to what expression is on my face. I am concentrating!! But again, yes, I do have a miserable face, oh lordy!</p> <p>Byesey wyesey. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/26/where_are_you_from~2708176/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-25:/2007/07/25/tabasco_is_the_new_ketchup~2701732/MashedPotato2007-07-25T22:27:14+02:002007-07-25T22:27:14+02:00 <p>I grew up putting ketchup on everything. I was a fussy eater (sweetcorn is still the devil's food) and ketchup made everything taste better. Ketchup on chips, fish fingers, pizza, as well as spaghetti and rice. Now, it's tabasco. Have you noticed that? The older you get the spicier everyone wants their food! When I cook now, I throw tabasco in the mix. When I eat now, I throw tabasco on the top. Tabasco here, tabasco there, tabasco everywhere. Hmm, that was a bit dull.</p> <p>But I did just have a thought. When people say, 'Hi, it's so and so, I am your presenter for today', they should instead say, 'Hi, I'm so and so, I am your placenta for today.'</p> <p>So yeah, I am in the workforce proper like. Getting up at 6.30, getting home at 4.30. Then falling asleep. God, I hate being a worker! But, at least there are some financial gains and it means I am eating less (and smoking less!), so I am now not in danger of getting stuck in the chair. Imagine over eating all of a sudden and getting stuck in a chair. If it was a sofa, you'd be screwed. But, if it was a wheely chair, you'd be in luck. Literally, a wheel chair.</p> <p>Someone blocked the toilet at work today with a big poo. Someone else had to unblock it. You think if you block the toilet with your own poo you'd also unblock it?! </p> <p>What's the worst sound in the world? A mosquito buzzing past your ear. It's unmistakable. I remember two years ago when I was on holiday with a friend. There was a mosquito trapped in our room and it buzzed past my ear. We were trying to sleep and I complained about the noise of the mosquito. 'Mosquitos don't make a noise!' my friend said. Lo and behold, a mere five minutes later she screams. 'What the hell was that squeaky buzzy noise?'. Yes, that would be the afore mentioned mosquito I was talking about, chuckle chuckle. So then we had to chase it round the apartment and I ended up having it squashed on my book. Let me tell ya, my book was sooooo, like, totally pissed off.</p> <p>Do you know one of these people? They feel ever so slighty harrassed, and everytime you phone them, it's like their world is falling apart. You pop into the office to see them, because this person is your boss, and there they are, pulling their hair out, smoking because they are so stressed and their world is about to fall apart. They've grown stubble, because it's like, really physically affecting them. God, attention seekers suck the life right out of you. Who has time for them?</p> <p>Anyway, sleepy weepy time. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/25/tabasco_is_the_new_ketchup~2701732/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-23:/2007/07/24/title~2689758/MashedPotato2007-07-24T00:07:15+02:002007-07-24T00:09:24+02:00 <p>So, big day tomorrow. I enter the workforce yet again. I am in the highly esteemed position of administrator in a removal firm. A temporary worker. I had kind of got used to the idea of not working again in England, so that's just been ripped out from asunder. Gone are the joyful days of procrasinator, oh, how I loved those days, sniff sniff.</p> <p>Then I realised I had no black trousers because I dumped them all in Japan to fit souveniers and other unnecessary items into the suitcase, so I had to make a dash to the town centre. Time was tícking, the phone call for the job had come in late. I hadn't yet eaten my late lunch. Did I make it? Dum dum duuummmmm. Yeah, I did. Phew. I actually dumped a lot of stuff in Japan so now I don't really have any clothes. Somehow I still managed to get charged £100 in excess baggage. I'd already packed and re-packed three times and I wasn't about to do it at the airport. I was still a little drunk when I handed the cash over and it almost resembled Monopoly money so it didn't make too much of a dent.</p> <p>So that's it, early night tonight. I'm wide awake but got to try and sleep to get up at 6am, oh my god, I'm becoming normal, argh! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/24/title~2689758/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-23:/2007/07/23/from_take_that_to_father_christmas~2684059/MashedPotato2007-07-23T03:12:33+02:002007-07-23T03:12:33+02:00 <p>Yep, it's that time of night.</p> <p>Hmm, any inspiration from moi? Going out for a ciggy - to take a moment and breathe in some of that fresh, tar filled air - and to ponder my smal place in this big, big world. Man, being deep really isn't me. </p> <p>So now I am back, I was flooded with things to write now I've forgotton them all. But for some reason I was pretending I had my own radio show, maybe on Radio 2 when I am in my thirties, and I was talking about Take That. I imagined myself saying the saddest one of them all is the ex-member, Robbie. Yes, he's the richest, but he's not really a real person. In interviews he's very much jack the lad, ooohh, I'm an entertainer. But yet he's been in re-hab (I think?) and just never really seems content with life, griping about something. Personally I think his ego is quite big. And the other members of TT seem quite happy. Personally, I don't own anything recorded by TT, they just aren't my thing, but they are enjoying their renewed fame and fair play to them. See, deep really isn't me (and that was a song by East 17 anyway - hey, these groups were part of my youth!!).</p> <p>I often imagine my future, where I will be and what I'll be doing. Definitely not in England. I hate the pressure of being amoungst other Brits, do this, do that, wear this, wear that. Argh! Take me to a place where fashion is not on the forefront. I'd rather spend my money socialising, a person of the people, getting to know others and finding out what makes them tick.</p> <p>I would ideally like to be writing something, hence I am doing this now, as a log for what I am thinking - inspirational, but only for me! But I just don't have the dedication right now. I find my brain works faster than what I can type (as I guess do most peoples') and then when it comes to penning thoughts on the computer (paper is just sooo last year) I forget and my mind goes blank and I get distracted. Therefore I don't in any consider myself to be a writer at the moment. I think a writer is someone who makes money with their craft, it's their job. I can say writing is one of my hobbies, that's ok. But mention that you have ever written something to someone and they all assume now that you are a writer. I'm not. Neither am I a photographer, but I love taking photos. Both areas (writing and photography) need plenty of work, more practice and dedication.</p> <p>My ideal job would have been a war photographer. I guess that sounds bad. War, of course, isn't a good thing (slightly underestimated but I can't quite think of a proper alternative right now), but it fascinates me. I don't know what part, it's nothing specific. I read the autobiography of Don McCullin, a news photographer. Of course it doesn't sound glamorous or safe, but a bit on the edge. Adrenalin pumping without being in the actual line of fire unless you really put yourself out on a limb (and maybe lose a limb in the process). And I guess this ties in with feelings of wanting to be a journalist too, but I don't know enough about the world to write anything of substance. In fact, sometimes I think I don't know anything. And also for journalism you have to have a real passion for a story, hunting it down at all costs and I just don't have the drive. So ideally a photojournalist. Guess I could've just said that eh?</p> <p>Whenever there are debates I always have lots of questions. I like the people that take the time to answer the questions. Oh my god, what annoys me is when you ask a simple question, and get a lengthy reply back full of extra information that you didn't want to know so you switch off and never actually hear the answer to the question. Or, when people are having a discussion and all they want is to get their opinion heard so they don't answer your question.</p> <p>I think I (don't we all, I guess) learn a lot from discussing subjects. You might hear something about a subject you didn't know before, or simply hear someone else's opinion. But please, people, don't talk at me 'cause I'm not stupid, and don't lie to me if you don't know the answer.</p> <p>Ahh, that brings me to another point. When you're growing up, and you ask parents/adults a question, they often tease you with something that isn't the right answer. Now, you may laugh, but you also take it seriously. And that stays with you. Be honest with children, is all I can say. I can't think of any specifics now, but imagine being a child on the school playground. A child is still convinced at the age of 10 the moon is made of cheese. The poor thing might get the shit kicked out of him for being so stupid. I mean, Father Christmas is ok. Sometimes I am still convinced he is real. What did I just write? Ok, so slinking back to my carefree, childhood days!</p> <p>It's only when you are older, at Christmas time, sitting on Santa's knee that you realise there is a Santa in every shop in the high street - how does he get everywhere in one day? Bet I didn't ask that question, probably too focused on trying to convince Santa I had been good that Christmas and would he please, please, drop off the barbie in the chimney, many thanks.</p> <p>Oh, time to go. Early night tonight. Erm, kinda ... !!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/23/from_take_that_to_father_christmas~2684059/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-22:/2007/07/22/sports_at_school~2681362/MashedPotato2007-07-22T16:48:06+02:002007-07-22T17:21:22+02:00 <p>I just had a flashback of being at school. In fact, now several are rolling in.</p> <p>I remember sports day. Year 10 I think it was. As a class we had to allocate different people to represent the different sports. The girls were exceedingly outnumbered by the boys, so instead of opting out I was gently prompted into doing the high jump. Because I was tall. Yes, that is how sport works. If you are tall you can do the high jump. If you have big leg muscles you can do the 100m. If you are stupid you can do the cross-country run (remind me of that one later, another great story).</p> <p>So there I am. Amoungst seven other girls, each representing their class. Secretely excited, and also secretely thinking I've got this one in the bag. I looked around. There were a few shorter than me, a few a bit heavier. Yeah, no problem. And what happened? The infallible scissor action let me down. No, it wasn't the fact I was extremely unfit and hadn't attempted the high jump for about two years. I came 7th. SEVENTH. Out of 8 people. All the shorter and heavier people beat me. See, that's what happens when you get cocky, you become unstuck and the scissor legs let you down.</p> <p>Now back to cross country. The most stupid thing to do for PE, because most people walk round the route and end up being late for the next class. So anyway, school being school they chose to do it on a day when there had been some heavy rain, maybe in the morning or the day before. It was a time when it was 'cool' to not tie the laces on your trainers, so a lot had them tucked into their shoe. So of course, we all run over a muddy patch. Except no-one is running because it's so muddy. In fact, people are stopping to exchange mild conversation about how shit this lesson was. See, complaining gets you nowhere - in fact, it gets you stuck in the mud. Because, unbeknown (is that a word?) to the complainers, they were mildly sinking and slowly becoming stuck. Then it came time to move on and move their feet. And what happened? Oh, the legs moved no problem, it was the shoes that were stuck. I remember someone asking me as I squelched past to help them. Fuck that, I wasn't stopping for anyone for fear I would get stuck too. Oh, those weren't the days.</p> <p>I do remember playing hockey. There were several divisions of boys and girls clases. While the boys played rugby, cricket and football, we played netball, hockey and basketball. I got so angry (I tend to get mildly competitive when playing games, you honestly might not recognise my normally mild-mannered self), I was shouting up the cement pitch (sometimes we played on grass, sometimes concrete) which pissed a few people off, I didn't realise at the time, people came up to me afterwards and asked me what the hell did I think I was doing, and I hit my hockey stick on the ground and broke it. Poor, wooden stick. What's even funnier is that I was pretty average in everything at school. I wasn't really disliked, I was pretty meek, not a horrible person but not a push-over either. So when these 'tough' (aka stupid idiots) start asking me who did I think I was giving them orders on the pitch, I actually couldn't believe it. Of course, at the time, I slinked away, it wasn't worth it, but looking back now I chuckle, I must have got them quite irrate. Amusing. The meek girl is shouting at the tough girls. Ho ho ho.</p> <p>I was good at the javelin. Think that was because my arms were long. Nothing about skill. Jeez, I've already told you how sport works. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/22/sports_at_school~2681362/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-22:/2007/07/22/title~2681076/MashedPotato2007-07-22T15:59:32+02:002007-07-22T17:21:55+02:00 <p>Cringe.</p> <p>A word teenagers use but something I do very often. Sometimes I get flash backs to things I said/did and my body seems to shrink as I wish I could take that moment back. I wish I was one of those people that this didn't happen to. They stretch back as far as school up til now. Why oh why did I do that/say that. I mean, the moment is fleeting, I don't dwell on it, but it's there all the same. Probably monthly, so bo biggie. I must confess, mostly when I have been drunk. Logical thought goes out the window, you don't notice things you normally do, until the true light of day hits, and slowly, with friends serving as prompts, things start to gradually hit you. But, there is always reassurance, as chances are everyone else was as drunk as you and is not worrying about you did, but what they did. A vicious, unneccesary circle! </p> <p>I have a mix of cringeworthy moments, like dancing on speakers like an idiot (the least cringey, and in all fairness, maybe not at all) to abusing others whilst is seems like everyone else is sleeping but actually they are hearing everything you are saying, and remind you, not in times of need, exactly what you said.</p> <p>Someone told me you shouldn't regret anything you've done. I don't regret it. I just have moments when I am fleetingly embarrased. It doesn't affect my day to day life, before you therapists get onto the case.</p> <p>And speaking of therapy, etc, does it really work? How do you know when you are cured? Is there a cure? I suppose therapists is extremely Americanised of me. I do apologise. Form here on in we shall refer to them as counsellors or psychologists, depending on how my mood takes me.</p> <p>If I were a counsellor I would find it hard not to go to sleep. Late nights and such taking their toll. Unless someone had a very interesting problem. Oh, that sounds bad eh?</p> <p>You see, I think I know a lot about myself as a person. I love hearing things about me, good or bad. I take criticism extremely well, so long as it's not needlessly malicious. I take on board suggestions, I won't use all of them. My friends are always going on about my hair. All friends. I wake up, shower and wash my hair, and let it dry within the wilds of the natural wind. Sometimes it dries excellently, other times, well, it dries a bit horribly. You see, my hair has a natural curl, nothing corkscrew or excellent like that, more of a wave if you like. When it's humid it goes much curlier, and when it rains lightly also. If I am going out, I might straighten it. But I often forget about my hair on a day to day basis. Until I go to the toilet, when I might glance in the mirror and think what the hell happened here? Two seconds later it's forgotton until I next look in the mirror. Someone suggested why not have it chemically straightened. No, I don't want to. Who wants dull, straight hair every day? Someone else suggested making it more curlier; I really can't be arsed, you know?</p> <p>Anyway, enough is enough is enough, I can't go on, I can't go on now baby ... </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/22/title~2681076/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-22:/2007/07/22/cat_and_mouse~2678662/MashedPotato2007-07-22T02:39:24+02:002007-07-22T02:39:24+02:00 <p>Back again.</p> <p>A bit early tonight. Maybe I should come back later.</p> <p>It's weird the differences you notice between the day and the night. When I go smoking at night, because the world has quietened down, I hear the back door creak as I open it so go out for a cigarette. It's something I only notice in the evening, because I always think I am somehow squashing the dog, or some extra house inhabitant, like a mouse. But during the day I don't hear it. I also see a lot more frogs and mice at night. Guess they aren't scared to pop out of their dwellings. Now the cat has passed onto the fluffy clouds high up in the sky there are lots more four legged species roaming the garden. </p> <p>I remember when the cat brought in a mouse once, and played with it. It was awful to watch, but also fascinating. It then properly killed it and ate it, and you could hear it munching on the bones. Reminded me of when I used to live in Battersea. It was a bit of an old, decrepid house. Moss green carpets, the strangest wicker sofa ever and mismatched furniture. Well, we had a mouse. So we fed it quavers. I know, I know, stupid thing to do. But we turned the telly off and you could hear it munching. I think it liked the melt in your mouth cheesy sensation, because the next day there were two of the buggers, and so of course we had to exterminate. But despite being vermin they were cute!</p> <p>I've got a raving headache today. I'm addicted to coke (that's Coca-Cola if you don't mind!) and drink several cans a day. So today, having had none, withdrawel symptons have kicked in. In the end I stopped the cold turkey and shot to Tesco and purchased more. I guess it's like coffee. I've heard the same thing happens with that, though I can't say for sure because it gives me a dodgy tum and I get scared of farting ...</p> <p>Mmm, just eaten a bag of monster munch, tasty! Oh, and I have just learnt/learned (?) how to burn a CD! I know, I am slightly behind with the times. It's great! I can now put all my favourite songs onto one CD and play them over and over again until I get sick of them, but then I can compile a new CD! I win every time!</p> <p>Oh, and another thing. Cloud 9 is supposed to be happy right? I jsut wondered why it isn't cloud 7, seeing as 7 is a generally accepted lucky number? Or is it that luck and happiness are very different? Gosh, one just isn't sure is one?</p> <p>I love flip-flops. Flip-flops are without doubt my favourite shoe. Being tall, it means my friends nearly reach the same height as me which is a bonus. And they are cheap, and you have no problem with them not fitting either. Although I was wearing flip-flops when I was running, tripped over a curb and instead of putting two hands down I put one hand and my face (see post below for results - 8 stitches between my eyes if you can't be arsed). But they were strange flip flops, and it was obviously my fault for not seeing the curb in the first place (it was dark - and no, I wasn't drunk).</p> <p>Wow, I am still wide awake, I could go on for hours and hours and hours. </p> <p>Something midly amusing. This story is thanks to a friend. When I was teaching in Japan, one guy used to go into his classroom every time and say 'hello chaps'. Eventually, he started getting complaints, and when it was looked into it turned out the students thought he was saying 'hello Japs'! Har har, worth a mention.</p> <p>My toes are now cold, which is the only problem with wearing flip-flops. I even wore flip-flops to a wedding once. Looking back now I am slightly embarrased, but hey-ho. Everyone kept looking at my feet, although I wasn't sure if they were looking at my shoes or the blood blister on my big toe (again, from the same fall as mentioned earlier). Maybe I should have put a tick box on my forehead to resolve the issue. Got another wedding this summer, won't be wearing flip-flops. Gotta find an outfit though, bit nervous about that. Money, money, money. The good thing is there are loads of dresses around at the moment so it shouldn't be too hard to find something nice. I'm just worried I'll have the same dress as someone else, that would be annoying!</p> <p>Anyhow, off I trot. Ta ta.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/22/cat_and_mouse~2678662/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-21:/2007/07/21/title~2673915/MashedPotato2007-07-21T04:16:32+02:002007-07-22T17:22:39+02:00 <p>Hmm, I promised amusing things and nothing much amusing has been written, though I do find it mildly so, and that's what important.</p> <p>Strolling around Sainsburys in the fresh produce aisle, and some poor person took out a plastic bag, put two carrots in it and they dropped right through and fell onto the ground. So suprised was I that I laughed quite loudly without meaning to, it just erupted from me so fast that I felt a bit mean afterwards. Then I thought they should do that more often. Put in a whole load of plastic bags with no bottoms and see what people do. Man, I should write for one of those sketch shows. Channel 4 here I come. Or maybe Big Bro, you get more money that way. Oh lordy, I'm as shallow as a paddling pool!</p> <p>I don't know why I write this time of the night, it's almost like time to go to sleep, lets stretch it out a bit longer. And then I have to read a chapter of my good before I sleep otherwise it never gets read. I'm trying to be stern with my routine. Eat, sleep, eat, sleep. There sometimes just isn't enough time in the day to do everything.</p> <p>You may have noticed my tongue in cheek type humour. If you haven't, then I suggest you don't read anymore, because it means you don't get me and you don't get life. Choose life and try to understand. Either way, with my tongue in my cheek I'm constantly spitting. Rah.</p> <p>Trying to think of other amusing things now. Why is it when under pressure you can never think of anything, so now I am thinking my life's dull even though it's no way near. Ish. If I try and think about what I laughed at today, I can't pinpoint anything but I know it's been a good day.</p> <p>A girl I went to school was pretty miserable (sorry, onto that again) and she never really, honestly laughed. You know, when you throw your head back, you can't breathe and everything sets you off. I love people with infectious laughs. The best is when you aren't supposed to be laughing and you end up making weird snort noises. When I was in school, my French teacher sent me out for laughing. My friends and I had already been split up and sat in four corners of the room. She asked for my homework and I started laughing and I couldn't stop. She sent me out. So I sat outside, huddled in the corridor between the wall and a row of lockers, praying the head of year didn't walk past.</p> <p>I do remember my head of year having a go at me once, for having my tie tucked into my shirt. I mean, it was all the rage, everyone was doing it. The next time he saw me he apologised. What was the point of that? I have no respect for people in authority when they can't do their job properly. If you're gonna have a go at me (ok, so I might have given some lip back) at least stand by it. As a teacher, and head of year, don't apologise unless you think you are in the wrong. You could say he felt bad because I was generally a good student (well, I wasn't beating people unconscious or kicking holes in doors), but still, stand by what you say. Oh, the kicking in the door thing - that was a good student too, honestly. He got expelled. But we'll keep the drug dealers and the bullys in, because they give the school their good reputation. How messed up is that?</p> <p>Last day of school. Lets give prizes to all the people in the year that make everyone else's life a misery. To be honest, I didn't really notice they were doing that until someone piped up that's what it was. It was the same teacher I mentioned before, wanting to keep people on his good side, wanting to be popular. Who cares if the idiots like you? Reward the people that give the school the reputation (pretty average!) and get the good grades and that generally behave!</p> <p>I was always awful for homework. Especially maths. Always completing it when I got into school late, drawing parallelograms under the desk when the register was being taken. Well, obviously in my book. Chewing gum goes under the table.</p> <p>Is it true that if you swallow chewing gum it stays in your stomach for seven years? Hmm, I'll have to Wikipedia that one.</p> <p>Ok then, time for sleep. Slater. (The last word is a sign of how cool I am and how 'down with the kids' I am. Yes sirreee! This one shows how I'm not. See, again, contradictions!).</p> <p>PS - I can never be bothered to edit these things. I re-read the other posts and think OH MY GOD. Well, more like oh my god. But it's such an effort, you know. And I've already explained how bisy my life is and that I am unemployed and I find I have no time for nowt except procrastinator. I am self employed and work for 'Sloths-R-Us'. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/21/title~2673915/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-19:/2007/07/19/misery~2661264/MashedPotato2007-07-19T02:30:45+02:002007-07-19T02:30:45+02:00 <p>I don't understand why some people are always so miserable. You go into a shop, sometimes the same shop every day, and the person serving you is miserable is sin. Look, we all have bad days but seriously, every friggin day? You just wanna slap them one and tell them to smile.</p> <p>Actually, I get that a lot. 'Smile love, it might never happen'. Even my Aunt told me the other day I hardly ever smile. I was suprised (but then I see her about every 18 months!). I do genuinely have a face that if I am not smiling I seriously look miserable as sin. It's not my fault, it's my genes! No-one can smile 24/7, they'd have serious face ache!</p> <p>Oh no! Have I just contradicted myself in the first and the second paragraph? That's another bad habit when I'm writing, contradicting myself. One must keep a check on that yah? But, it's not actually contradicting. Here is the difference: miserable looking people that are rude, miserable looking people that are polite and friendly. Guess which one I am? Yup! The latter!</p> <p>My first job when I was 15 was in a shoe shop, selling shoes (thought I'd help you out with a handy description - your welcome). My boss used to tell me to smile. I'm smiling on the inside was my reply. So basically standing in the middle of the shop I looked miserable. I must confess I had a stare out competition with a small child in this shop. I think I won because he started crying. Honestly, if I'd have known he would've ended up crying I'd have passed on that competition and tried to win a car instead! Anyways (I must stop digressing) as soon as a customer popped their foot through the door I was extremly polite, helpful AND smiling. You see, it does make a difference.</p> <p>I'm a positive person, and always look for the positive things. I'm not hopelessly positive to the point where a friends house burns down and my comfort reply is 'don't worry, the back to the future car is real and you can unplug that faulty wire and there will be no fire'. Random? I hope so! Half full is my cup. Time to get another one in then eh? Mine's a pint you stingy bastard.</p> <p>I am talking about miserable people because I went to the post office today, a local village type store set within a small newsagents. Working in the newsagents was this woman, and on the way out I smiled and nodded to her. She looked at me like I was from Mars, her eyes moved into slits like I was going to steal something and she made no acknowledgement, not even a one degree inclination of her head to the south. Miserable bitch were my exact thoughts.</p> <p>The best jaunt into town was again to the post office, nearly two years ago now. The week before I had fallen over and cut my face between my eyes (had to go under the knife with the plastic surgeon and I got me 8 stitches, boy, was I proud. Well, not really, but none of that is the point). So anyway, from this I had a piece of white tape to protect my stitches, lots of swelling and two yellowy7black/blue eyes (I had to go back to work because I was temping, poor, and no sick pay). All the grannies in the post office were staring at me, it was hilarious, and all eyed me with suspicion. What's this young thug doing in the Post Office, ready to mug us?! Although I exaggerate, there were a fair amount of sympathy stares too. Oh, the excitement.</p> <p>Tired. Off to bed. My eyes are closing and I can't see. Well, that's not true either, because I can blatantly see the keys on the keyboard. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/19/misery~2661264/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-18:/2007/07/18/iit_s_all_me_me_me~2660979/MashedPotato2007-07-18T23:47:55+02:002007-07-22T17:23:03+02:00 <p>Oh my god, I love Caffreys. It's so smooth and creamy, and lulls you into an extremely satisfying mellow drunkness. Spirits are the worst for me. I can get hyper and start shouting. Beer and wine are fine, happy drunk - the best drunk. But why do I get drunk? I don't know, analyse my life and tell me if you disagree with what's about to come. I like being drunk amidst large groups. It's a coping mechanism. I become less aware of myself and more chameleon-like, feeling like I blend into the surroundings.</p> <p>I don't understand why some people are so judgemental. I watch Big Bro and I read Heat magazine. Have you classified me yet? I suppose you have. What if I also told you in my CD collection there are numerous pop and dance albums. Yes, you can put your brain on auto-pilot and decide what kind of person I am. It's a natural reaction. A short-circuit to the brain so we require less thinking time. The official clarification? A stereotype. We all do it, I know I bloody well do it. What annoys me is the people that look down on me for watching Big Bro or reading Heat. Sure, that's where some people stop. But then if I told you I read biographies about dead Russian presidents or that I have in my CD collection anything and everything from Paul Simon and Miles Davis to ?. Or is that me over-analysing others' reactions?</p> <p>Think abouy it. A conversation. We are going to take Heat magazine as an example. I read Heat magazine. You can see the reactions of others. Some raise an eyebrow, some ask why. Why not? Sure, it's the gossip, it's about the only crossword I can do without asking someone else the answers and it also has the TV guide. I don't need to justify it but for people who can think they are better than me, will (in an obvious way) look down their noses at me. It's fun, it's light entertainment, and god, after all the crap that happens on a day to day basis we could do with something light.</p> <p>OK, so then we come onto the morals of such a magazine. It's an invasion of privacy, blah de blah. I guess it is a vicious circle, I can't jutisfy it. The media do create and maintain a celebrity's status. But I do think it is part of the territory, and some people crave it. For example, the whole world seems to know a lot about Posh & Becks. What do we know about Tom Hanks?</p> <p>I digress, but the point I want to make it don't judge me on it.</p> <p>I loved the film ??? (forgotton it's name - Robin Williams is the therapist with the two young guys who also wrote it), and his character explains go out there and breathe the air of a country, soak in the culture. Basically live it, don't read it. I've just spent over a year living in another country. I can talk about the people of that country, their values, but I will also never know what it is like to be bought up such a country. Even if I moved there when I was 18 and lived there for the rest of my life, took their citizinship, I would never have their in-built cultural psyche. </p> <p>For people that visit another country and get frustrated (and I mean REALLY frustrated) don't go there. Respect the country you are in. Respect the people, respect the values.</p> <p>Oh, time for a ciggy and TV viewing. Catch you later. From one semi-insightful person to another over and out (that's from me to me, har har). </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/18/iit_s_all_me_me_me~2660979/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-18:/2007/07/18/ego_centric~2659760/MashedPotato2007-07-18T20:13:24+02:002007-07-18T23:22:55+02:00 <p>I'm lucky. Generally, I'm a stress free, laid back, relaxed and somewhat lazy person. In the days when I was a commuter on the tube and there were delays, mainly on the way home, I would sit watching and listening to people tut, moan and gripe. Sat there for twenty or so minutes on a train that isn't moving, what can you do? Get stressed or sit and read your book/someone else's paper/the products Argos has on sale. Erm, the latter please.</p> <p>See, these things make me laugh. Life has it's ups and downs, over the years, and in the space of twenty minutes. Sometimes, it's beyond your control, so you just have to ride it out.</p> <p>That's me at the minute. I'm on a bit of a downer, but I know there is light at the end of the seeminglessly endless, narrow, claustrophobic tunnel. So as long as that wee little Argos torch doesn't break I'll be onto a winner! Let me out, let me out. It's a bit like being a fish in a deep puddle.</p> <p>What I love even more is that I don't make sense. There is no rhyme or reason, but there doesn't need to be. All this crap about form, style, rules in everything we do. If you're good at something, you're good. It you're crap at something, you're crap. You can learn goodness from crapness, or merely enhance the crapness. If you know you're crap you're onto a winner. If you enjoy the crap then do it anyway. I know this is non-sensical, but do you know what? This is my blog and I just don't care. Ego-centric, gosh, I think so, don't you?! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/18/ego_centric~2659760/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-18:/2007/07/18/title~2658753/MashedPotato2007-07-18T17:33:43+02:002007-07-18T17:40:42+02:00 <p>Oh, I am so overwhelmed.</p> <p>Looks like the plans are slowly forming for the next phase of life. Was starting to get a little worried there, honest.</p> <p>I do think I have serious problems which need to be addressed, however. I can hold my hand up, in amongst this little blog circle, and say without hesitation 'I am addicted to Scrabble'. God, just saying those words I feel the pressure lift off my shoulders like the letter tiles sat precariously on them were made of tin foil. Phew. Maybe now I can move on and leave this soul destroying part of my life in the garden shed, where it belongs with the lawn mower and the carcus of the mouse the cat caught pre-2007 when it was still alive.</p> <p>Crikey, it's raining again. Oh, I must say, the grass has never looked greener. And those birds! Look at them hopping about after a shower! Bet they never had it so good. Worm central the back garden is now! Hop on board the worm train, choo choo. Come on birds, buy one get one free! Save your seat now! Terms and conditions do apply (or should that be worms and conditions?).</p> <p>Ahh, the release. Going for a ciggy and a poo, catch you later.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/18/title~2658753/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-18:/2007/07/18/tired_a_wee_bit_yes~2655157/MashedPotato2007-07-18T03:46:19+02:002007-07-18T03:46:19+02:00 <p>I'm actually pretty tired. Just had a late night jaunt to the petrol station and to the coach station where I live. Wild, yes sirree. Not many folks on the road at this time of night, just the odd drunkard who insists on using the white road markings as a pavement. A bit like bowling really. The drunk as the skittle and me in my car as the ball. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/18/tired_a_wee_bit_yes~2655157/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:a-musing.blog.co.uk,2007-07-17:/2007/07/17/title~2654693/MashedPotato2007-07-17T23:27:02+02:002007-07-22T17:23:44+02:00 <p>Gosh. I feel under pressure now about what to write. </p> <p>As a member of the illustrious 'unemployed but highly employable' group within the small collection of islands that make up Great Britain I needed something to do with my time, so, a-ha! Take On Me you blog thing you. And here I am. Withering and dithering until the heavens open up again (the way the weather is at the moment probably in, oh, I dunno, 'bout five minutes?). Pitter patter, pitter patter. See? Time to take my leave.</p> <p>Wow-wee. The excitement has gripped me and taken hold. Excuse me while I burst into song 'twinkle, twinkle, little star'. Whoah, now I've got that out of my system I can continue.</p> <p>No, it hadn't started raining yet. I was just joshing with you. Are you keeping up? Oh, I've just noticed a little counter counting all my wee letters. Bless it. Better not type too fast or it might lose count. Whoopseydaisy. Bet that one threw it off, chuckle chuckle.</p> <p>Over and out. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://a-musing.blog.co.uk/2007/07/17/title~2654693/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>