New Year's Resolutions 2011

2010 is fading fast, 2011 is a mere 8.5 hours away so let's cut the crap and get these resolutions down!



1. Ride Mary-anne more.
Like I said in my previous post, this is a resolution which I failed to keep and is being carried over to 2011. I have a horse called Mary-anne. She is now 17 and for those who know to care a 14.1hh light bay cob mare of Irish descent. Since I moved to university 5 years ago I didn't want to be someone who's social life over took her hobby. I didn't want my old childminder Ina's prognosis of "boys taking over from the pony" and continual questions of "so are you actually still riding it or have you given it up yet?" to prove correct. I can't say that since I went to university I had as much dedication but I still went up on a semi-regular basis. In fourth year though (last year) I saw myself letting my work (no, not 'boys') take over the time allocated and I was seeing Mary less and less. I aimed to resolve that but I failed. I am hoping this year will be different, one less undergrad degree and one less wedding will hopefully allow this to happen. To be more systematic than last time I am aiming on average to visit her once a week to ride and if not groom and care for her.



2. Save up for a deposit.
To be more clear, I mean a hypothetical deposit for a house. It would be such a waste to sell our current home before the area improves enough to make much of the investment so we are looking to rent and buy a new place. A few years ago this would be easy enough but now a minimum 10% deposit is often required so all savings that can be made are pretty much hitting the ISA for this end.

3. Save up a Cats' 'instead of insurance' fund.
I hate insurance companies with every fibre of my being. All they do is make you pay them a fortune only to find a loophole when lo and behold you actually need to claim, so that they don't have to pay out. Im not naive about it, I know that's how they make profit, but I really don't want to then be the chump paying for it. So for pet insurance we are going to put the monthly payments we would have been paying into a savings account in place of insurance in case the cat's need the vet etc.

4. Keep Running Regularly.
Having completed the 10k run resolution in 2010 I aim not to go for another distance challenge but just keep it up. There was a point where it got a little insane training and I don't think going for a half marathon would be healthy. The problem is when there is no race day deadline finding the motivation to put in the work at the gym falls away. This year I want to stop being a yo-yo runner and run once a week as a routine.

5. Don't Succumb to Politeness if Ever Faced with the Former Bridesmaid Again.
5 weeks before my wedding my bridesmaid took a flakey and deserted her post. Whatever the reasons were she was unwilling to see an alternative point of view. This was a problem but not a deal breaker in terms of speaking to her again for me. That is until she basically managed to spin it so she took a lot of money that was not hers when she left the scene. Suffice to say I have no interest in this person being in my life. However, there are a lot of things I would like to say to her and none of them too pretty. Despite people's stereotypes of me I do spend a lot of time not having the courage to say what I really think when someone attacks me personally. I have no problem arguing when it's a matter of opinion and issue, but not when it comes to people I love, and let alone myself. I am fed up of being polite and reserved. Ok it is helpful if you have to see these people and there is no good in opening a can of worms but in this case, I wont let myself be polite. If I ever see her again I will have no hesitation in telling her exactly what she needs to be told.

6. Get a masters, get funding for 3 years and start my phd.
Self explanatory really. I am doing a masters I aim to complete. I intend to do a phd and I need to get 3 years funding for it. Then I need to start doing the phd.



7. Learn Something New: Latin.
On Tumblr I put up a post asking people to submit ideas for a kind of different resolution. A few people replied and one was from Jenny. She suggested I learn something new, offering candle making and meditations as one's she was going to have a stab at. Normally I would have said yes to something like candle making as I love doing creative making type things but I have already done this having had a candle making kit for christmas one year. In terms of meditation I have tried hypnotherapy and found it to be useful in a crisis but not something I could fit into everyday life. I know that's my being flawed because I just can't sit still for a minute, I have to be doing something. But I decided Jenny was right I have to try something new and that is to learn a new language. Seeing as I am already at University it would be ideal and make the resolution more likely to be kept should it relate to my studies. In order to tackle the 16th century fully for my phd, and not have to resort to the 17th century like certain academics want me to (thats right big mac!) I really need to learn old Scots latin to do so. Therefore I am going to try and get on a course and then aim to have a grounding in Latin by 2012.

8. Don't Rely on the TV to Get to Sleep.
I have gotten into a bad habit of not being able to get to sleep without the television on in the background at night. It happened gradually starting with music when in 6th year at school and became dvds on laptops at halls at uni and now is dvds on the television. My theory is that all those voices that keep you up reminding you of things you need to do or things you did that day when it's time for bed are so loud that I use the tv noises to drown them out and fall asleep. I know this is not good for my rest and that if I want to get to sleep outside of my own house this doesn't bode well. Therefore I am going to make a concerted effort not to have the tv on when going to sleep.



9. Bake Something, Once a Month, in the Shape of Gingerbread Men, and Share it with my Brother, Jamie.
Indeed this one was suggested by Jamie himself. I turned it around and made it into a resolution where we meet up once a month with Stuart too and have the baked goods and spend some time together. Since Jamie moved to the West End and I stopped working at Boots I don't see him as much as I'd like and hopefully the lure of gingerbread men made of anything but gingerbread (maybe scone dough, pizza, tiffin or cake) will help sort that out. Thanks Jim!

10. Never Buy Bread From a Shop*.
Recently I leared how to bake my own bread thanks to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's simple instructions and creation of a "bitch and bake" group on television. Since I first tried it I haven't bought a single loaf from a shop, let alone rolls or even a baguette. The home made bread is different and so much better. You can add anything you want to it, you can make loaves, rolls, ciabatta, bread sticks, garlic bread, seeded batches, fancy shaped bread, pizza bases and much more and all from a 50p bag of flour and some dried yeast. It seems like a long time to make it totalling about 4 hours in all but once the hard part of 10 minutes kneading is over its just moving it twice. If you do it in the evening you are in the house anyway and it makes little difference. So I have decided to keep this going. I will make some more to put in the freezer for just in case as well so we wont be tempted to buy any shop bread. * As a side if a specific type of bread is required i.e. gluten free or someone's favourite I have not made then shop buying will be allowed.

11. Grow My Vegetables More Efficiently.
Since I moved into this flat I have made the tarmac-ed back court into a pot plant filled area where I have managed to grow many vegetables. Never though have these vegetables rivalled my vegetable buying at the supermarket and they have more been a few meals worth if that. This year when I start out seeds from February onwards I am going to focus on the ones that I know will yeild enough to make a difference. No more "ooh PHYSALIS, that sounds fun to grow" or attempting to grow 6 different kinds and colours of tomatoes just because I could. I will pick out the exact veg to grow and grow them in large amounts. Not only that but I will make a big effort to plant continously in order that veg is ready in stages and not as a all at once glut. I hope to account for most of our own veg in the summer and some in the spring, autumn and winter. For the veg that I will end up buying in supermarkets I will buy seasonally and from the closest source possible and try to use the greengrocer on high street or at the fort even.

12. Once a Month, with Stuart, Cook a Home-Made, Joint Three-Course Meal.
This year Stuart started cooking from recipes and has been very successful. On a few occassions we made the effort to each cook a course and have a 2 or even 3 course meal served at the table at home. Stuart suggested to me I make it a resolution to do this and make sure we do it every month. It will make sure we spend some time together doing things other than watching dvds or working as well as advance Stuart's cooking skills and try to make me like cooking as much as I like baking.

So there you have it, my 12 point plan to a perfect 2011. I will try my best to keep checking back and updating about progress and of course I will put in the end of 2011 run down on the overall results. I may even sneak in a half time score in June. I'll keep you posted.

Thank you for reading my blog in 2010, I hope you had a spicy, festive christmas and wish you all the best for 2010.

Happy Hogmanay,

Helen x x x x

p.s. It took me so long to write this that it is now only 7.5 hours until 2011!!

Resolved

It's that time of year, the end of the year. A few people have blogged about resolutions that I have read now and it's about time I did the same. I also need to recap on this year as a whole as a lot has happened and aulthough things appear pretty much the same, a lot has changed for me in a non-tangible sense.

I started this blog on a whim. An old friend from school had started one based on her resolutions to track her progress and successes in trying to keep them. It wasn't really the resolution idea that I emulated - indeed, I never even bothered to post my resolutions on this blog when I started it and instead threw them into the black hole of facebook, never to be found again - it was more the honest out-pouring of her thoughts that I admired. I think I have always been an evocative person and putting my feelings into words and prose hasn't been an issue, but it was the outlet to an extent, and the actual process of doing it, which I had lost in the year or two prior. I had lost a lot more in 2007-9 that just that and being on the edge of the new leaf, a metaphorical blank piece of paper seemed very appealling. I added a quick scheme - later to be changed to match my tumblr or "lite" version of this blog - and was away. When I was young I would write. I would write stories, notes and random thoughts. I never had the decidation to the scheme that the journal keeper or diarist had, but I still keep some old notebooks with quite lyrical text scrawled in. I lost this when I went to university. Seeing all these blogs with their curious themes and imaginative protrayals of their keepers inspired me, not to mention the fact someone I used to see at school most days was laying down more of her life on a daily basis that I was in a year. I admired the openness with which she typed and the fact she was able to put her honest self out there and not care what people thought of her. I suppose it is a far cry from days past. This was what I tried to repeat, only with my own personality as the guide. I think one of the key themes which has characterised this year for me has been the fine tuning of my personality, well, what I mean is my acceptance and willingness to promote it.

So, getting down to the resolutions themselves! I'm going to use some styling here for e f f e c t. I am also not going to go into terrible detail for some as I feel my older post in the sunshine and in the shade has already done this to some extent. I also would like to note this as what I think of as my most accomplished blog this year, the one which matches what I outlined as setting out to do most successfully.

1. Play with Molly and Maisie more so Molly isn't too fat
Stuart and I got Molly and Maisie almost two years ago and we were attentive cat-parents. Part of this was reading the side of the bag of - the most vet recommended, and expensive I might add - cat food and doling out rations in way prescribed based on our cats weights. Suffice to say we were a bit shocked when the vet blatently told us that Molly was overweight. But we did what the - very expensive and YOU recommened - cat food bag instructions said! No, no, no. You see, our cats are indoor cats, to avoid car squishings of little meatbags, and they don't expend much energy, especially seeing as they sleep basically ALL the time, and that's too much food. So we were to experiment with "indoor cat" (i.e. reduced calorie) cat food, smaller amounts more often and exercize. Yes, that's right for all you who want to lose weight, human or animal alike, you eat LESS and exercize MORE and you WILL lose weight. I can testify to it. So can little Molly. It worked and Stuart and I were delighted when we went to the vet to find that Molly was the perfect weight and very healthy. We were even more delighted by the fact that the vet liked their collars and was glad to have "some cuddly ones" for a change. So in terms of this resolution I can declare it to be well and truley kept.

2. Ride Mary-anne more.
This resolution represents basically the opposite of the previous one and a failure. My horse, Mary-anne, is happy as larry at grass but I always feel I should be up there much more. And I should. With university, wedding, running, cats, irractic car ownership and my general laziness I have not been riding Mary more. In fact, if anything I have ridden her less. Never one to like to fail, I will carry this resolution to 2011 and work harder on it next year.

3. Run a 10k.
In 2009 at the start of August my Mum invited me to take part in a charity 6k road race with the school she is a teacher at. She intended to walk it. We decided we would at least run it and soon started actually training and did run the 6k in full. Stuart did it too and we finished in 38 minutes. After this I thought, well if I can do that I can do a 10k too - only 4k more! So I aimed for the May 10k but that fell through. As I had made this resolution and May went by I felt bad. I was doing a lot of finals, sitting, studying, putting on a study belly, and with a wedding approaching, and not running. As soon as exams were over I signed us up to the Great Scottish Run 10k in september, the weekend after the wedding. Stuart and I combined training with wedding preparations and spent the summer this way. In september we completed the 10k in 1 hour and 8 minutes which I deem a very acceptable time, especially since I had the cold and suffered a nose bleed mid race! So I managed to keep this resolution. My aunt who also runs said to me, you know what they say, if you can do a 10k you can do a half marathon. I have decided not to add this to my resolutions for 2011 though, as I want my shins intact for the rest of my life.

4. Get Married.
This one was easy! Well, I was engaged when I made this resolution and we had set the date. I added it as a joke but the joke was on me with the ridiculous amount of minutiae that had to be organised for the event. Even still, I suppose I can mark this as a kept resolution too.

5. Graduate.
When I made this resolution I actually meant deep down to add "with first class honours" to the end of it but not only would that have been a jinx, it also seemed so big headed, especially when everyone around me would come into uni and go "a 60!?!... BRILLIANT" when I had just received the same mark and nearly died in disappointment. It all turned out ok though and I got the following marks for my classes: 84,78,75,70,68,65 which equates to a first :). Now I am doing my masters happily and it has kept me off the dire job market which it just fine by me. So, it is kept.

All in all I think that 4 of 5 kept is pretty good and like I said the one not accomplished will be carried over with me. I could easily put down my new resolutions here but for now I will hold off. It's only the 27th and I would like to make that post on the 1st of January, first post of the new blogging year. I get the feeling that my friend with the resolutions will also have had quite a lot of success in her keeping of them too and wish her the best. After I type this I will prod her to blog her results too!

As a round up of the year I really have to emphasise that 2010 has been the best year of my life. So many exciting and good things have happened and I don't know that I could have imagined anything else better at the start of the year. I've become more myself in my own body/mind this year that I have ever before and feel so comfortable. This has a lot to do with certain social aspects of my life and the realisation of certain truths that I have decuded from the array of events thrown at me this year.

I have finally understood what I view as the myth of friendship. I know who the meaningless people are, and I can accept that everyone is out for themselves. Several people have revealed their true colours to me this year and I am glad because not only are they no longer clouding my life, they are no longer clouding my judgement either. They have taught me more about human sociability and it has allowed me to keep the few true friends I have on my terms. I know not to need everything from a friendship, and I can value when a friend actually makes an effort to show their real intent. Lesley, Kirsty, Fiona and Jenny have in different ways been good friends to me on different levels and I appreciate that. I am happy to have my best friends - Stuart, Molly and Maisie. I am also eternally happy not to give a shit that my best friends are my husband and my cats - one is family and the others are linked to me like family in a social heirarchy which can't be abolished. I love them dearly. Molly is accompanying me currently to me left, purring like a machine and looking into my eyes with a look of need for love she so often has.

Along with this appreciation of the truth comes a new outlook. The idea of karma has connotations of either hippies, or my name is earl. Both good in different ways- but both fail to describe what I want so I will neglect that term. I believe in people getting out what they put in. If you put in nothing, you will get back nothing. If you do bad things, bad things will catch up with you. This is not a literal exchange nor immediate as often protrayed. It seems to be almost a balance that touches the general outline of life. It's not quite realise-able unless you really look for it. Good people have gotten good things this year and the bad people have gotten what's fair in return. Kidneys, boys, financial quagmires, psychological impediments to normal life. Is it wrong to feel like everything is right in my world because of this? I don't know, but what I do know is that I tried hard to do the right thing, and be a good person in 2010, and it worked out. I'm not going to question that in 2011.

Adrenaline

Some people can't handle their drink, and some can't handle drugs. Some people can't handle stress, some people can't handle other people, and some people can't handle anything at all. I can't handle my own adrenaline.

I know the science behind the body's production of adrenaline and I know of the 'fight or flight' terminology. I understand that the production of this stuff is necessary, helpful and for some completely exhilirating; something to be sought. For me it is altogether more complex than science makes it out to be. That's because it's not just the body that feels the presence of adrenaline - it's the head too.

Without sounding like a broken record to those who know me, or have heard this tale before, a few years ago I was unwell. I was unwell for months and this culminated in what I deem a deserved pessimistic attitude. I was entitled to it, and it was a period of feeling down. I assert it was that and no more, but there were doctor's who thought otherwise. Suffice to say I was persuaded with a line more akin to bt credit card foisting telephone sales people than people who got 5 A's at 5th year and spent 7 years in university. And I was prescribed. All your troubles will just be lifted! All your fears will dissolve like an Alka Seltzer! You'll feel yourself again..

Well no, actually, I felt more unlike myself than I ever have and more like a screaming banshee whose brain was in a blender and body performing a marathon workout. By the time I was rescued from this state and taken to the pyschological safe house that was my Mum's livingroom my eyes were like glazed needle heads and I felt like a ghost. I know this description sort of makes light of it now and that's an ok way to deal with it but I must outline that it was the most scary thing to happen in my life and the one event which more than anything fills me with rage. I feel like someone who has been attacked, conned really.

Anyway, what I experienced then I now know was a panic attack brought on my god awful prescription drugs that disorient not only your brain but indeed every single fibre of your being until you trust nothing and no-one and not even your own perception. My whole body was confused as my brain teetered on the edge of reality and it was scared. I like to think of my brain and my body as conjoined twins; two seperate entities with their own system, sharing a space and a little clairvoyance. As my brain lost the plot my body couldn't handle it and it reacted in the only way it knew how that didn't involve long term physical repercussions: the phenomenon known as a panic, or anxiety, attack.

A panic attack involves a certain situation resulting in the creation of a large quantity of adrenaline in the body. To me it seems like the body reacts to this adrenaline in an abnormal way. When normally the reaction to the situation would be get the hell out of here or get them right now, a panic attack turns this to where do I go I can't even move and I know I should get you but I don't know who you are, who I am, what I am... When people suggest it feels like a heart attack I suppose that is an accurate description of the physical manifestations, it increased heart rate, the breathlessness, the hotness and shooting pains and cloudy, dizzy head. But for me, I can liken it much more to the view that it is like going insane. You feel like everything you knew about yourself, the people you know, your views, your environment and the world itself is being turned on it's head. It's like you've been led on your whole life and suddenly up is down and the grass is blue. It feels like you can't handle even the smallest thing and a light breeze would blow you over the edge. There is the regular part of you who is fighting this, holding on with raw palms and ragged nails, trying to get back. But there is also this other part of you which just cries to let go, lacking the energy required to stop sinking in the sand.

Of course this feeling alleviates itself after a time, within half an hour, more often than not a lot less time than this, though it feels like you've been in that hell for a lifetime. And once it's over it's still not over. Depending on the severity it will come back to haunt you. For me it was the same time of day. I had my first panic at night and that's when I would get one. The next day the same feeling would rise, but the physical symptoms would be reduced, a miniature wave of panic that would echo the original, though not the full intensity. At the end of a wave you begin to feel positive again, like it's going to be ok. I view it as a poison bottle, the panic attack fills the bottle and the waves of panic every night after for days or weeks empties out some poison. The first night after a lot is emptied, so the next night is easier, and each night more until it is just a vague incling that those feelings exisit. Then you forget it and the bottle is empty. Dealing with the symptoms is important and developing the ability to know that a panic attack is just a panic attack is important. What's more important though, it being able to handle your adrenaline.

Adrenaline is like alcohol for me. You know how for some people drinking enhances their current mood? Like someone is happy and they drink until they are extatic, or they are sad and they drink until they are depressed and crying? Or even angry and drink until violent? Adrenaline is like that for me. If I'm in a normal mood and adrenaline emerges it helps me get stuff done that is urgent. If I'm not in a stable mood though, it can have a very bad effect. But really, that's now a thing of the past. I suppose its a bit of time and a bit of coping techniques but it all works out.

The point is, I hate the way that adrenaline can make it's way in when you don't have any reason to expell it. I have a deep hatred and anger for the doctors who caused the first panic attack which I really doubt would have come at all if not for them. I hate how the idea of doing exciting things like rollercoasters or even climbing walls still gives me the background feeling of panicy dread - not for the acceptable reason of the fear of the activity but for fear of the fear that adrenaline causes itself. I suppose we are all at odds with our bodies in some way and this is mine.

The reason I discuss this is because tonight I dealt with adrenaline in a completely normal way and I didn't even think about it until after it was done. I think that's the first time that the aura of panic that clouds the back of my mind has failed to existed. In the last few years I feel like a lot of my living has had the aim of getting back to where I was when I was 18 and life was totally in sync. I know that's rose tinted viewing now but I don't want the bad things that have happened to stop me from getting back to where I had advanced to before. One of these things was the adrenaline/panic attack issue and I think I may have gotten back on par tonight.

bowlie and beyond

Oh dear blog it's been a while and there haven't been many words flowing, this shall be remedied. There are a few things that need laid out just now.

I have just returned with my husband from a holiday to Butlins. Not just to Butlins though, to Bowlie 2 - a music festival curated by Belle and Sebastian. I really can't be bothered typing in the history of this event for two reasons, one being I have just added hundreds of covenanters to my database this afternoon and my fingers don't want to type anymore, the other being I didn't know about the first Bowlie and it did not subtract from my enjoyment of the event. I really dislike those people who think they are better than you because they were at the first one, or they knew the band before the band or they saw the famous concert. Whatever. So basically Bowlie 2 is/was a music festival at Butlin's Minehead where you get a chalet and can do all the Butlin's stuff as well as see three days of gigs, it's pretty good to be sure.

We decided to drive there which was I suppose our only logical option seeing as the train station is still ages from the venue and 9 hours on a bus? No thanks. So we we had to decide between taking Hamish - Stuart's car - who is new, safe and not so fuel efficient and the Bug - my car - who is old, rattly but very fuel efficient. We took Bug. Stuart wasn't insured but that was sorted and we managed the trip from Glasgow to Minehead on only one tank of fuel per journey which is pretty amazing. The trip consisted of driving a little too fast on those straight bits of road which in our defence offer you no option but to do it, you feel you have to keep up. It also consisted of ridiculous car games such as eye spy where the thing spied kept on dissapearing out of view too quickly due to speed and became basically something beginning with: R - Road; T- Tree; B - Bridge; or C - Car. We had slightly more success with naming through the alphabet with a specific catagory (e.g. Cars, A- Astra, B - Bugatti, C - Clio etc) but we quite speedily started choosing categories such as "stationery" and ended up putting Abacuses and Underwear on our metaphorical desks to fill in gaps. By the time we resorted to the number plate game it was hour 5 of the journey back up and we were just shouting words as they came into our heads - JOP "JIM ORANGE PIANO" GDR "GOD DILLPICKLE RAG" - or even worse we were simply dipping into the profanity bag and pulling out these beauties - SAP "STUPID ARSE PISH" BJB "BIG JOBBY BAWS" and so on. We did make quite good time though. Traffic impeded us on the way down but on the way back we made 7 hours INCLUDING breaks, at the end of which I think I may have started seeing things but that's neither here nor there as the Bug bombed along the straights of Abington and Lesmahagow.

The festival itself was brilliant. It was so grown up. I can illustrate just how pleasant it was with these comparisons between it and my other main festival experience of T in the Park 2005: Tents become Chalets. The ground becomes a bed. A plastic cupboard of diahorrea becomes a neat bathroom. A bottle of water and a tictac becomes a shower and toothbrush. Cheap boxed wine and £5 falafels become Coca Cola and soup. Grass and mud becomes fancy carpets. Getting pissed and falling over in a puddle becomes swimming in a wave pool with space bowl flumes. 500 feet from the stage becomes 5 feet from the stageCrushed bones and elbows in your ear become clean people maintaining your personal space. And most importantly, distorted and vague sounding bands become perfectly sound checked and levelled hand picked bands.

I'm not going to go into immense detail of the performances, only to note the following bands as either brilliant, or a good surprise: Belle and Sebastian (especially Judy and the Dream of Horses and Sleep the Clock Around), The Go! Team (especially Ice Storm), Sons and Daughters (especially Rama Lama and Taste the Last Girl) and Dirty Projectors. See my tumblr for photographs and videos. The other amazing thing at this festival was the laid back nature of the bands and the security. I don't mean laid back like lots of crap happened, I mean the bands staying in the chalets too and wandering about all the same as us. Us being allowed to wander through the venues as bands sound checked and rehearsed was another plus.

Aside from the music, there were other things to do including swimming, walking on the beach, and specially selected television programmes by ATP or Belle and Sebastian in your chalet. Here are some of the highlights of the weekend for me. Writing postcards on the floor in the Pavillion while Belle and Sebastian rehearse in front of us on stage. Swimming in the pool, jumping 7 foot waves, crazy flumes. Going under the water with Stuart and singing a sing and guessing what it was. Eating supernoodles with bread sticks. Taking oranges with me everywhere. Alex Kapranos's obvious envy of my fuzzy hat. "winning" 10p (and losing like £2 of 2ps) on a penny falls machine called Hot Dog. Losing at air hockey. To be honest the only dissapointments of the weekend were when the candyfloss machine took my £1 and never gave me the floss and when the machine that takes 1p and stamps the words "I love dinosaurs" on it was jammed and I couldn't use it.

ANYWAY

I feel I need to tag this on here too so I don't forget. Last year I made New Year's Resolutions. I do every year, some times with more vigour than other years, but after a completely dismal 2009 I hoped that acheiving these would stop a bad streak and turn over a new leaf of luck. I did this in response (aka copying) my friend Jenny who has done the same on her blog Another Year's Words. Seeing as 2010's demise is nearly upon us I intend shortly, probably in my next blog, to give a round up and review of the year structured around my resolutions and the new outlook I have on life, which I never seemed to seek, rather it sought me. For now, here are the resolutions as well as I remember them, and we will see how well I have done.

Play with Molly and Maisie more so Molly isn't too fat
Ride Mary-anne more.
Run a 10k.
Get Married.
Graduate.

For the end, soon.

a feast fit for christmas

yes, so tumblr is down today and i feel i must continue my advent of christmas activites so i will put such 'lite' issues on bobbenblog itself today. this one is about making a roast dinner. we did this yesterday - me and my husband. my husband who is stranded at work over night tonight due to 6 hours of non-stop snow blizzards today from 9-3. it's very odd being in the house with the girls and not him but i will cook and bake myself out of missing or worrying about him. last night we had a wonderful roast dinner of pork with crackling, oven baked cheese filled portobello mushrooms and roast potatoes. here it is...

pork - score the skin and add oil and salt. the salt features juniper berries. add marmalade to the bottom of the pan which will make a sweet sauce. cook for the appropriate time, the first 2/3 under foil and the last 1/3 without the foil to make crackling.



mushrooms - put portobello mushrooms in a pan and cover with oil. half fil them with breadcrumbs then fill with cheese. we used cranberry stilton. cook in the oven for about 30 mins

half new potatoes and put in a pan with a shallow layer of oil. add honey, rosemary, and chopped red chillies. cook for 1 hour. use a pastry brush to mix the marinade on all the potatoes as they cook.

room

One day there was someone who had a room to themselves, someone who was able to close the door and be completley alone. People would knock before being able to come in or receive a frosty welcome if they did not. Inside the room there was a lot of noise. There was music that radiated out but inside made the room feel like a capsule of white and glowing red where every inch of the music was reverberating against the walls and back into the head of the inhabitant. There was a girl in the room and she did all her being there. She would dress there, she would think there, she would mimic a breakdown there, and she would sleep there. In the mornings she would crash, to the window, through the door, to the floor. She would move things and use things and try things and discard things and leave in a whirlwind. It was always the last place in the world that wanted leaving. It sought every fiber of her then. In the afternoons there was return and light and heat and sustinance. Revival took place and each day as darkness shrouded the room activity stuttered and night brought a different mood. Noise grew louder and throughts grew thicker, obscuring. The room lost its dimensions and became fog in a forest. The room became a house and the house became a world. The girl hid in the underworld, she made it herself and let the noise engulf her. The world let her write, it let her think, it helped her not to think and then it let her cry. Somewhere there were other feelings, but the world focused her. It made her assertive, it made her a killer. Her eye was on the prize. Deep throbbing bass kept the walls pulsing, the world was alive and she would not leave. There was deep blue, purple and silvery light. She let the world break her down into building blocks and lie exposed in the corner. She let the world keep her up until her eyes felt like pinpricks and her head ached to a shreik. She let the world take over and make what happened before seem like a grain of sand. It obscured the view, but finally exposed the reality and the truth. And she slept there. When she woke in the night the world had retreated, still holding her, but wider and grey and white in light. She saw things she didn't know to be true or untrue, and she wrote them down. In the morning the world was a room as square and as rigid as she felt. She stepped out of the door and it seemed never to have existed.

Each night she grew a milimetre, and each day she emerged with steel in her veins. And no-one ever suspected her. And no-one needed to know but she.

Poor Little Blog

I just realised I have been neglecting bobbenblog in the midst of business, snowiness and christmassiness. Probably been spending too much time making up words but that isn't my fault. Currently I have been spending a lot of my time researching. For work/my masters/the sake of scottish history, whatever you want to call it. Without boring anyone unneccesarily, I've been researching the crimes committed by members of the covenanting movement in Scotland in the restoration era (from 1660). Basically covenanters are Presbyterians whose religious ways have been supressed after 1660 as the crown enforced an Episcopalian church structure on Scotland. So the covenanters decided to, amoung other things, have big unlawful religious meetings in houses or feilds (conventicles), make a mockery of the establishment by robbing, scaring, hurting and ravaging lawful ministers, as well as, y'know, rebellion and rising in arms against the crown. Day to day stuff for a covenanter. But anyway, it's a lot of work cataloguing all the names, dates etc and trials of these guys but there are some highlights to be found to keep you sort of smiling.

Yesterday, Stuart and I were working on it and we found a poor man who had his clockbag stolen. Sadly it turns out it isn't a bag for his clock, but some elaborate way of a bookmaker to keep betting slips safe. Suffice to say the ruffians were apprehended and said clockbag ordered to be returned.

The names are quite funny too. Here are a few notable ones: Mungo Kaip in Evandaill; James Greive in Mahill; and of course Andrew Darling in Apletreeleaves. Such Characters have diverse and amusing occupations. Indeed you will find shoemakers, cordiners, meilmakers, those who "keip an alehouse", nottars, wodsetters, and...wait for it... periwigmakers!

They do some ridiculous things too, take for example the man with the clockbag, well a bunch of lads happened be involved in a "henious riot seizing John Durrie of Grange and his horse, arms and clockbag; winding him".

Anyway that is what i've been up to and I'm sure there will be more fun times for all in the register of the privy council soon. Apologies to my blog, I itend to update it in festive ways as the season progresses

haw bobo... elvis just scored

The alternative title is "male bonding?".

My dear husband came home from football training last night and had a bath. I asked him if he had a good time and he was dicussing what happened when he mentions that "taz" took the cardio training part. "taz?" i asked. What kind of a name is Taz? Of course, I should have known. This is a bunch of men, from the West of Scotland, who congrogate to train for an amatuer football league. Other information to mention is that where Stuart comes from most of the men base the majority of their lives around football, and on the days of their matches many of these men are hungover and smoke on the sidelines at half time.

It turns out that Taz was not the whole story. Taz isn't the captain but he is the vice captain or whatever. I ask more and find out that Taz comes with a Baz. Taz and Baz, football kings. This is fairly funny to me so I ask what the other ones are called. He goes through those on his side this week. Of course there is Coyle - who I know as Martin, because you see in the real world we call eachother by our first names -, Baz was on his team, so were Rab and Jimmy. And the other side?

"Taz, Bobo, Elvis..." Stuart starts.

Hang on one wee minute here... Taz... BOBO... E L V I S? Say what? The king isn't dead. And Mr Burn's teddy bear from the simpsons now resides in Coatbridge?

"...oh and Boulder".

Boulder? WHAT THE FUCK? The guy is called Boulder. I think about it:

"Is he a big guy then?"

Stuart: "No".

"Ah, a small guy... it's ironic"

"No."

Oooookay. So aside from these stunningly named chaps I inquire as to the rest of the team who don't attend training. There is Rick, whose name is so boring to me at this point, and Manus. Of course, Manus is his last name, well his last name is McManus but for the sake of male bonding it is shortened: Manus. This is followed with Clark-y and Ford-y. Seriously if you ever want someone you know to know they are your pal but that your definately still have testicles, just add a y to the end of their name. If their name already ends in a y? Try Breezeblock, or Forklift (size need not matter).

I was getting quite into the swing of it then so I started my own suggestions: Was there a guy named Jonesy? What about Steve-o or John-o? YES, there is indeed one called Hanso - this reminded me of Funzo. There is Bobo, is there Rolo? What about Bovril? Big Pieman, Fat somebody? Oh of course, Chubber from school. Big Boaby? Is there a Big Boaby? There's got to be a BIG BOABY?! Apparently not. Prince? Shaking Stevens? How about Pebble, to go with Boulder? And while we're at it bam-bam, I bet him and bobo are thick as theives!

Stuart was kind of wanting to get back to his bath at this point so I retreated with these names intact smiling like the doofus I am.

"I'm going to write Bobben's oh so middle class take on male bonding and football related names" I said.

Poor Stuart.

But seriously, ELVIS???

materialism

I really like things. Don't get me wrong I know what is most important in the world but when everything is settled and what's most important is safe, then the love for possessions reigns. And why shouldn't it? Sometimes you can be out and see something that just jumps at you where something about its design, its look or its feel in general is shiny and you are a magpie. For me sometimes it really isn't things that are expensive or specifically desired for other fashionable reasons. For example, I love to collect broken suspensions you find at the side of the road (Someone else has probably found my broken suspensions over the west of Scotland as I seem to go through them nearl every year). I like to rescue things people have lost outside and pick up stuff lying on the ground. Some people find this disgusting, some find it beneath them, some find it trashy; but if there is something someone has dropped and will not return for, that could be rehomed and reused then why not? When a neighbour throws out things and there is something of use I'll take it. When I'm walking along and I see a dropped phone sock I'll pick it up. Maybe I'm scum to you now but a wee whirl in the washing machine and it's as good as new.
Aside from this yes I do like to buy things too. I enjoy shopping. I like shopping for things for the house, changing the colour scheme or adding some new items that make your house feel fresh and revived. I like to shop for clothes, little dresses that make you look like a medieval backsmith and fingerless gloves of all different coloured stripes. I like to go to shops that are too expensive to buy a lot of things in and get one special item, like hoody dresses from American Apparel or my yellow coat from that shop Joy on Queen street which closed down too quickly. I love to buy presents. For most people the idea of christmas shopping seems to elicit either waves of stress or the groans associated with children dragged out to the supermarket. I love buying things for other people. Getting something I think they will like based on something they previously said or something I have tried and love and then wrapping it perfectly to see them open it and hopefully really like it. That's how I can support my case for the atheist christmas; reciprocal giving.
With that said then all I leave is a few pictures of some of the lovely new possessions I have after my recent birthday, thank you materialists.

the life and times

I was thinking about it recently and my blog seems to consist, in the main, of mostly me delving into the past and linking it to the present, or angry rants primarily aimed at the shape most resembling a bullseye in the logo of many popular retail outlets. I realise I don't seem to blog about my current affairs that much and if I do it becomes awfully poetic, involving some sort of philosophy on my life/life in general and thus my blog becomes a neurotic paradigm of my life. In order to remedy this I'm going to discuss what's going on just now. I am going to bypass the need to illuminate the reader as to the contents of my breakfast and who said what behind who's back &tc.

Currently I feel very frustrated in my ability to communicate what I'm really thinking. This isn't due to my not being vocal but is about the channels through which I am able to do so being blocked. I guess that people all have multiple interfaces in which to communicate - different people (work, family, friends, strangers even), face to face, phone, letter, email, social networks, blogs - and I am sure that people use each of these sources to converse in different ways about a multitude of varying issues. I mean, we all have friends or acquaintances who we are completley superficial with. Sometimes this is due to the depth of that person, be it in terms of the relationship or, sadly, brain power and sometimes it is due to the context. For example see my old blog about having silent companions at the gym or take Stuart who has a lovely woman at the canteen at work who enthusiastically asks about his life despite seeing him for at most 5 minutes a few times a week. And then at the other end of the spectrum we have those most intimate relationships, partners, family, close friends, and indeed even such as social networking where a lot of time and effort is exerted and the layers of interaction are dense and related.

For myself, recently I feel I have lost not only many superficial layers, but also some of those more impenetrable lines of communication, and I'm at a bit of a loss because of it.

This is going to sound so pathetic: I've lost facebook. Now I'm not an idiot, and I don't live my life through this website, but I do enjoy going onto facebook as part of my internet routine and seeing what's been happening. Ok I know facebook reminds most people of social butterflies with hundreds of friends arranging nights out and posting the drunken photographs resulting the next day, but there are a lot more subtle things I like. I like being able to send stupid jokey messages to stuart throughout the say (yes, even though i see him ALL THE TIME); I like getting absurd news stories linked on facebook and having little chats about the content within; I like to keep up with people who I hardly ever see but am able to feel like if I did meet them again tomorrow they wouldn't be a complete stranger; I like to be able to post up what is on my mind at any given point in the knowledge that those who care will see it and those who don't are at their own free will to ignore it, or remove me from their wall or even friends. Contrary to popular belief, removing a friend on facebook really isn't the stab in the back it is made out to be. The point is I like that I can be myself. 99% of the people on facebook for me are superficial acquaintances. The other 1% are (meant to be) the people who don't mind me being completley honest becuase they like me for who I am. Recently this has changed.

There have been additions to my facebook friends of people who normarily wouldn't use facebook. Friends of friends who you don't know but you know they know the original friend well. (new) Family. Remember that time when a member of your family was taught to use facebook and you thought "good for them, they will be able to KEEP IN CONTACT"? Well that's just it, now every status, every link, every remark is watched from the multiple cctv cameras of family with facebook. I know I am making my family sound like people who I can't be myself around and that's mostly untrue but online me is different to offline me. Offline me knows that integrity is important but that getting people's noses out of joint over stupid little arguments over it is not. Online me doesn't care about context and just really hates something and has to type it IN CAPITALS PROBABLY right now, sparing no detail or profanity, just to get it down and off my chest. Offline me knows that you acknowledging someone when something shit has happened is a caring person who is there for you without forcing herself all over the situation. Online me knows that no longer can she passivley "like" something for fear of it being interpreted that I actually LIKE the fact that something shit happened. Offline me is able to interpret people's tone of voice and body language when communicating and send the applicable signals back. Online me is able to do this with other people who were raised on the internet in a very subtle way, but some how always ends up failing to communicate the fact that I HATE WHAT YOU LIKE is a different sentiment online to offline. It's all oh so complex and I'm really feeling like I can't express myself via facebook now for fear of offence. I think the problem with facebook is that it tries to mesh the internet friend world with the real life people. The internet friends are friends quickly and the crap you post is a test to see if the friendship is worthwhile. When the real life friends join you some how stop seeming like a person with clear ideas of what they like/dislike and more of a self righteous dick who just can't let go. In fairness to myself though, sometimes things are utterly problematic. I do not like football. There are people I know who really do. In real life I would refrain from talking about it with them, avoiding strife. Online you are all just a bunch of facebookers and you know what I REALLY DON'T LIKE FOOTBALL and why can't you just let me say it and ignore me please. If you don't have anything nice to say and all...

Apart from this I've also felt like I have lost another two of these communication tubes, swimming pool flumes, if you will, in terms of people. I have two friends who recently have started to feel a little more like acquaintances. One friend was having a hard time and I felt so bad for her, like I had already been there somewhat and wanted to lend advice or at least non-judgemental support, so I did. And she replied, in a nutshell that she was busy and couldn't get back to me for a little while. A little while turned into a long while and during the long while I noticed that chatting to me was too much but being online in general was not. And that's ok, her choice not to talk to me, but I feel sidelined, like I wasn't good enough to help. She seems to still be in a bad place but I don't really want to help due to being fobbed off last time. I don't know, maybe I'm getting too prissy about it but I kind of expected that my help would be more worthwhile when time was lacking that image after image about tv shows and food. I guess that's the internet reality, a facade to be maintained. And I do feel bad for her, and I want to be there, but I've been the doormat in the past and I made a pact that if the only way I could be a friend to someone was to be the one always doing the running, then I wouldn't be the friend any more.

This pact leads to the other friend I am dissapointed in. A good friend has gotten a boyfriend and a part time job, and suddenly it's as if I'm invisible. I understand this of course I do I basically spend my life with my husband and even if you have the time when you are working you do just want some time to yourself. However it's the pretend friend dance that gets me. As if I am a child being told 5 more minutes over and over while hour after hour elapses. If I invite you to something and you don't feel like it, it's ok to say no. If I text you a time and a place, it's ok to say I can't rather than leave me hanging knowing that you never said no and I may still turn up. What's not ok is to not bother with my birthday. What's not ok is to say heyy we'll do something next week ok? and then just never get back. Just tell me you are too busy, just tell me you aren't feeling like it, just tell me you don't want to be my friend; it's fine. I just hate the dancing around the subject. I'm dissapointed again and I know if I really wanted I could press the issue and be more forthcoming in trying to arrange a time to meet up but alas my doormat pact is in place. I really like you and I understand your reasons for not seeing me, but I don't like to be deceived and I beleive that is what's going on. Honesty wins I swear.

So that's the reason I feel so frustrated and unable to express myself. True to this is the fact I've been searching for the phrase "express myself" the whole way through typing this and never quite being able to find it.

Do you ever feel as though the relationships you have made and the friends you know are slipping gradually like sand through your fingers? Right now, I'm just looking the other way.

cool

Today I posted an article I found on tumblr about a man who had chosen to forsake the necessity he felt to be and act "cool". It was quite a good article basically outlining how his 39 years on the earth had mostly been dominated by life choices based on what was "in" and on what everyone else thought. He decided to change gradually away from this as he was getting too old to pretend he was still a twenty-something hipster in uncomfortable clothes and uninspiring places. Fair enough. It's probably the sort of revelation people make often as they get older only their concious isn't quite aware of it being so overt.

However, I'm not quite so convinced. You are meant to read the article and consider the man to be striving to reclaim his own identity and you are meant to be proud of him for doing so. I didn't feel so. I'd done more to find myself by the age of 15 than he had by the time he was 39 and no-one cared. I have a big problem with the idea of popularity and being cool or trendy, and I think people who spend their lives attempting to be so (regardless of to what extent they succeed) shouldn't be pitied for having to do so, they should be pitied for the lack of free thought they exhibit.

The world is an oppressive place. Social structures and heirarchies attempt to shape behaviour in so many ways and everyone acting within society plays a part in reinforcing these ideas. Some people do this more willingly or are more aware of doing it than other blissfully ignorant people are. Here is an example. Stuart came home and told me that at work one of his colleagues criticised him for being too eloquent, only said colleague didn't say "too eloquent", he said something along the lines of "using big words to try and sound smart". At first glance this interaction may seem run of the mill, but it is really extensive layers of "whats cool" social culture reacting to the slightest divergence from the norm. Stuart's coworker disliked Stuart's use of his admirable vocabulary as it was different. Either it made Stuart look better than him, or he thought it made Stuart look negative and to be putting on a show. His response encouraged Stuart to come home and mention this in passing to me. Undoubtably this wont cause stuart to change his behaviour (as he is lucky to be someone comfortable enough in being his own person for it not to) but it was still impacting on him. The coworker has clearly been impacted on by cultures which have emphasised to him that a large vocabulary isn't a good thing, or that it is a threat. Stuart may seem cleverer than him, Stuart may seem to be "uncool" because of it. Someone else may have reacted to Stuart and this has effected said coworker. Either way, the culture the coworker has been involved in has clashed with Stuart's way of speaking, and made him no longer blend into the background.

This isn't specifically a critique of either person's views here, it is merely to highlight that people act in ways they do not explicitly understand to correlate with their own views or opinions. Namely: Peer Pressure.

Peer pressure, a topic first given this title to me in P.S.E. classes at high school, has been one of those ideas which irritates me due to the connotations which are always negative. Peer pressure is feeling obliged to act, and indeed even think, in a certain way due to the overwhelming opinion of those around you. For me at high school this was as follows. You had to look a certain way. You wore tightly fitted black trousers, tightly fitted white or blue shirts, preferrably with a "ben sherman" logo on the pocket but no other, and nike trainers. You wore makeup and styled your hair each day. You spoke in certain ways, using slang where appropriate. You didn't run or play games, you weren't interested in sports, you would walk in groups with girls, sometimes linking arms and you would "hang out" in certain areas where you were meant to in a group. You would have lunch in the town at the chip shop or deli, you would not have lunch in the canteen. You would however use the canteen for a snack between classes. You would not be clever, you would not try to answer questions in class, you would avoid getting top marks in classes and would attempt to blend in by getting average marks. You would not talk to teachers, you would do token "bad" things, you would talk about hating school, hating teachers. You would pretend it was cool to drink or smoke or have had sex regardless of your age or aversion to such activites. You would pretend to know rude slang terms and use them as much as possible so to divert attention from the fact you didnt know them. You would like the music played on clyde one, you would have to dance like a slag and at least dance, you would DIE if you couldnt go to the school disco even though you hated it, you would wear the clothes the cool kids wore, you would go the places the cool kids go, you would like the boys the cool kids liked, you would shun the friends you had a year ago because lo and behold they were now losers and you were to avoid them like the plague or be shuned by association. You were to try and look like everyone else so you couldnt be picked out the crowd. You were to try and talk like everyone else so there wasn't a stray voice. You were to try and do the same activities, imitate the rest so there wasn't a lone figure moving slightly off beat. You had to press the off button on your imagination. You had to hide your face when you weren't doing something worthy. You had to batter your brains in to sink to thier level. You had to damage your emotional well being to stay faceless. You had to spend each and every day constantly with people, trying not to do anything at all remarkable so you didn't step off the kirb and fall into the limelight for all the wrong reasons. You had to try and do all this without wanting to just go home, go to bed and just never wake up again.

School is an incredibly oppressive envrionment for anyone with an individuality. For the people who thought school was ok they probably havn't got the blinkers off yet. Either they are in denial about their whole lives or they haven't got the brain power to realise how they have been moulded to be just like everyone else. And indeed in essence that is it. Fitting in; there is no such thing. Fitting in is infact the stripping back of yourself. It is a bonfire of your identity and background. Fitting in is burning the germs off of a metal instrument with which to perform surgery. It is a purge and it is repressive.

Not long after I went to high school I began to realise the intense brainwashing that was indeed taking place curtosey of the inherent social structure and the hundreds of faceless idiots promoting it without second thought. Unluckily for me no-one else seemed to notice such dogma and this made my life rather hellish; though I bet no-one would have noticed while I was there. I am glad though. As much as school was the worst time of my life, I am glad it wasn't a walk in the park. I get to be someone who isn't a faceless moron like the majority.

I look at everyone I see as I go about my day most days and they all are the same. In town all the girls wear skinny jeans because they have been told to from so, so many angles. OMG this loser is wearing an aviator jacket in a magazine or on a picture in the front of topshop; now its a MUST HAVE. I can't belive these people don't realise themselves how they are being manipulated. And the other side is just as bad, oh yea I wear "uncool" clothes. It's cool to wear trousers too short for you becuase its "uncool". You are just as idiotic. Don't get me wrong I am not anti-fashion and I am not immune from the lure of advertising, but what happened to looking at something and going with your gut. Ask, do I find this item to be aesthetically appealling? is it a nice colour? does it have a great design? do i just like it because I've seen it a lot? or someone "cool" has it? or do i like it because the "I" on the inside of me wants it?

Why can't I turn around and say: hey guys, I hate the band nirvana. I just do not like the sound.

Why can't I turn around and say: I like to be clever, in fact, I have based all my acheivements on this and I got 84% for my dissertation. I am better than every single other student I competed with and thats ok.

Why can't I turn around and say: Actually drinking makes me vomit, so i dont drink and why would i want to go out clubbing where the bad music is too loud, people spill drinks on you and old men leer?

Why can't I turn around and say: I like GARDENING. I like to grow things for no other reason than to watch it happen. I like to BAKE. I am basically your gran. No I don't like whiskey it tastes like arse and I do like sherry; i have a sweet tooth.

Why can't I just do all these things and not have everyone make a big deal about how odd it all is? Why can't people just accept that just because one person doesn't like the thing everyone else seems to like it doesn't make them a freak.

I've been who I am all my life. With the exception of a few years after primary school where you weren't allowed to be a child any more, and before I just gave up trying and did what the hell I liked around the age of 15 I have been myself. I pity those oppressed people out there going out every single day and putting on an act. It is insane that the man who wrote that article took THIRTY NINE YEARS to realise he didn't like the things he pretended to like. I have no sympathy because he had no guts. Do something different, be yourself, what is actually the worst that could happen?

So whenever anyone talks about popularity, or trends, or being cool it makes me so angry. There are so many people out there creating a fake image of themself be it fashion victims out in town, faux "tortured artists" at the school of art, or band/tv show worshipping people on the internet, uploading select pictures of themselves so they come across in a certain way. Stop doing these things and stop ridiculing the people who dont because as long as you do that, any time you look at the "what was she thinking?" page in heat magazine and laugh you are reinforcing the whole system and then you have no right to complain.

I refuse to let this finish on a cliche, but if you get my drift you will be able to insert the most applicable here: .

viruses are gay

I seriously cannot stand being sick. being ill. being unwell. being poisoned. even being that annoyingly childish and english term, poorly.

Every year, without fail, I get ill. And by ill I mean either a) the flu b) some sort of/combination of infections (be it urinary, chest, kidney etc etc) or c) the imfamous virus. Of course I get the minor ailments we all get, colds, upset stomachs, being run down, rashes and the like throughout but I also seem prone to these epic, flooring illnesses which I bet some snotty child passed onto me.

Just now it's a "virus" (which is the doctor term for I don't know what's wrong with you, but it sucks). It's always a fever (or temperature whatever), it's often a messed up bowel, sometimes cough/runny nose/sore throat/sinus bother, always hot and cold periods, sometimes achey, ALWAYS NAUSEA. Always.

If there is one thing I just cant stand it's nausea. If there is one thing worse it is actually being sick. Since I was young I have hated it and gradually I have developed a paranoid fear of throwing up. I think it probably started when I was young and my brother went through a period where he was physically sick a lot. It probably was only a few stomach bugs he had or something but you always make things seem a lot longer, or more dramatic when your young. My bedroom door was right opposite the bathroom door in the house and anytime anyone was sick I could hear it and I couldn't stand it.

I remember feeling sick and sitting in the study/spare room in the house on this old sofa which was really bulky and round with very firm cushions bound tightly. I sat upright with a duvet on this sofa because I was scared if I lay down I would feel more sick. I fell asleep upright.

I remember if I was ever in my own bed feeling sick I would distract myself from it by imagining riding horses in a riding lesson (which I did when I was young) I would choose the horse and play out the exact sequence of the lesson in my imagination to quell it.

I remember not vomiting for about 3 years straight and bragging about that record which would be broken only days later.

I know its all psychological but I can't stand it and I can't stand other people and I can't stand tv protrayals either.

Aside from that being unwell in any degree is just totally depressing. You think that it seems fun, not having to work/study/whatever, being able to just watch tv, read, do nothing, and sleep during the day. It's never like that though. Maybe it is for other people but I hate it and would rather be working any day. Watching tv is depressing because its either your sensitive to sound and its too loud, or the distraction isn't enough and your too shit to watch it so you just have to sleep it off. Reading is only likely if you feel up to it and even then reading for ten minutes tires you out so much that you feel ten times worse. Sleeping is ok if it makes you feel better but it either makes you feel worse (ie lying down with a cold, being unable to breathe) after or you end up sleeping away four days of your life with nothing to show for it only that you can wear clothes that aren't pyjamas again. You probably cant eat properly either. Take just now for example, this "virus" I have means I can only eat the following food: bread; pasta; rice; crackers; bananas; potatoes. And you can only eat them if you dont already feel so nauseous that the mere thought of a banana makes you gag. Also, who wants to eat plain pasta? I hate carbhydrates so much. When I feel a little better I have these immense cravings for a giant steak. Which I cant have. Of course I can have liquids, joy of joys. You have to drink LOADS of liquids for some reason, even though it makes you pee like every 10 minutes so you have to get up off the sofa and stumble dizzy like through the house which in turn makes you nauseous again and the giant steak seems like hell itself.

There is literally nothing good about being ill. I defy you to tell me I'm wrong.

I hate it so much and I just want to be better.

I know this was a very depressing and whiney blog but I'm sick so I don't care.

Also.. why does my body decide that NOW is the perfect time to plague me with the hiccups every bloody hour?

the best kind of days

It's been a very odd, very trying weekend. And yesterday morning's wakeup was marred with the cold shivery-ness of still having to do that f-ing book review. I needed to sort out both of these things tout de sweet to keep my brain from jumping a level down on the happy-o-meter. What I mean is that when things are going well you advance up levels of happiness in your head and with every graduation, wedding and funding grant you bounce up another level. Problem is that once you get there you get used to it and it is also more instable each level you go up so little ruptures in the landscape tend to upset far more easily and you can fall down a lot quicker. So to remedy these problems I sat down first thing and wrote the arse out of that book review. I don't think Ian Cowan should expect a rave anytime soon. However, to solve the former was and is a lot more troubling. Without going into the detail of the weekend (hospitals, chinese commie-hackers, broken parties, people bending, expectations waning...) it was a lot harder to fix than doing the book review.

So first I cleaned the house. I don't know if it's the same for anyone else but cleaning is kind of theraputic to me. I like to clean. You don't need to use your brain in any real way to do it. It is menial work, yet it's not wasted on the slovenly public but cherished on my own humble abode. It's light exercize and I am a firm believer that a tired mind needs a tired body or the balance is all off, and rest will be bi-polar. It is satisfying to the n-th degree. Your house is messy and you clean it and it makes everything feel more at ease, in order and lacking the disarray that inhibits calmness. So yes, first I cleaned the house.

Secondly I went to the gym. I had to go to work for 1.5 hours first but then I went to the gym . Infact I invested in the university gym membership that morning (it only took me 5 years) so I didn't have to find change. Also I was out in my Van Morrison t-shirt which is a bright yellow neon type one and instantly makes you feel of sunny disposition. At the gym I ran 5k and for some reason it was on the crazy hill climbing setting so I had to climb hills too. This made me sleep very well which is all part of it.

Thirdly and finally I came home and watched tv for a while, ate warm food and hid under blankets with mollycat for a couple of hours which is always good.

Despite all my efforts yesterday though I still feel a bit off and I always tend to brainwash myself. Sometimes this is by watching television and sometimes it is a bit more introspective. Here it is: I worked out one of my favourite days. And I'm going to describe it.

22nd December 2009

It was 22nd December 2009. It was me and Stuart's four year anniversary but that wasn't the point. It was a week or so into the crazy snow. Well, the crazy snow that had covered most of Scotland, lots of England and even bloody London - all except Glasgow. And this 3 days before Christmas. So I was angry and frustrated at the lack of snow and I was waiting on Stuart getting home. I can't remember if he was at work or if he was doing something else but I was waiting on him. Anyway we had been planning to go to the Christmas market at St Enoch Square with Jamie and about an hour before we were heading out... it started snowing!

So by the time we left there was a covering of snow. We donned our winter items, hats, scarves, gloves, coats and boots, and headed out.

We walked into town and hit george square as a myriad of horizontal flying snow, traffic and fair ground rides.

We were meant to be going ice skating but it was snowing heavily now and not exactly being experts we settled for drinking mulled wine in the tent they have. The tent has picnin benches with rugs, blankets and cushions on the seats and a disco ball inside.

Then Jamie arrived! And we headed to St. Enoch Square.

We got to the Christmas market and it started hammering it down with snow. It was like fog and you could hardly see the other side of the stalls.

We proceeded to make some crazy faces then headed in to the new Hamleys store for some snowy respite.

We wandered for a while then Jamie left (i think he was working?) and Stuart and I headed home via Georege Square again. They had turned on the lights and everything was perfect.

Then we walked back to Jobe and made a snowman in the back before heading inside to drink sherry and bacardi with cats and hotwaterbottles.


I don't think theres anything wrong with wishing for a white christmas. I don't think theres anything wrong with emulating a Victorian style christmas either. Last year I was worried I was getting into the christmas spirit way too early and limited myself to not doing anything Christmas prior to November (including shopping). This year this isn't as much of a problem - it is already mid October. Stuart and Dad's birthdays are past, Halloween is around the corner and my birthday too. From then on out it's Christmas time. If something is so important, so great and so fussed over you may as well extend it and enjoy it. I'm so anti grinch this year.

antidote to soul destruction

Indicators and arrows to December, which will be imitated throughout


The whole sky soaked up in a puddle of water, where you can see the mirrored life


Those grown from themselves will destroy your soul, unlike those grown from the ground


Steady, reliable and remaining. Some things never let you down; though you are not meant to love them so


These little people, with their little hands


Sometimes it's hard to distinguish good from bad. And sometimes you just use your gut, and you know the truth


Why would this one emerge as good, and one so similar emerge tainted?



Where will you go? Will the path split? Which way will you choose?


I have chosen

I really don't like HMV

The time has come that I tell it like it is vis-a-vis the music retailer, HMV. For a long time now I have been growing increasingly dissatisfied with the ability to buy audio products on the High Street. Aside from HMV's crappiness, there is a distinct lack of good shops in which to buy cds. Note: cds. I am sure there are loads of places to shop if you are a snobby moron who listens to records, not cd, because oh man it's the only way to do it. I'm sorry, but they are big, they are old, the sound quality isn't as good. Fair enough enjoy your records for some old stuff but hello it's 2010 and the world moved on like over 15 years ago. And I bet you all these recordites are funding apple and illegally downloading cause how else would they be listening to music out of the house? Ripping each record to mp3s individually? Yeah, sure. Anyway, I don't think there is any point in buying records. I hate bands who do record only singles - THANKS IDIOTS. I also don't like downloading music, wheres the sleeve, and what happens when your computer decides it's just too much in this world for the third time this year? It's bye bye downloads time. Yes I have an external hard drive. No I don't update it every day. I don't like downloads, I like cds. Now that we have this covered I can tell you there is basically no where to buy cds. I live in Glasgow. When I moved to Glasgow I could list these great places to buy cds:
Music Zone (I think it was called) - basically above McDonalds on Sauchiehall Street, lots of cds and dvds always decent prices, good staff.
Virgin Megastore - giant selection, prices ok kind of hit or miss but they WOULD invariably have what you were after, student discount and good staff.
Fopp - used to be SO COOL, good cds for £7, £5, £3 a decent alternative selection outwith the perpetual sale and good staff.
Avalanche - really really great shop, had a lot of alternative cds and very good second hand area they used to even put the second hand in with the new so you could search it that way easily, if they didn't have it you could order it and the guys were so helpful, knowledgeable. It used to be brilliant.

Now, Music Zone is gone, Virgin became Zavvi which spewed gift cards, bit the dust, and became a weird online sort of retailer, Fopp is now HMV and seems to have been rather marginalised (of which will be discussed later) and Avalanche apparently has new owners, the second hand is muddled and if they don't have something they wont order it they are just like SORRY, BYE. thanks. So after this what do you have: HMV.

HMV has pretty much 100% of the cd sales market in the city of Glasgow and they have become really, badly arrogant.

Firstly, as you may have noticed in my old list of retaillers, all had good staff as a feature. This is something HMV is so far from ever having. All the staff in HMV seem to be metallers. Girls with black hair, black eyes, black lips and peirced everythings who are often always overweight with giant breasts it seems. Guys with black hair, jeans that sit not on the waist, not on the hips but no, on the PENIS, so you can see all of their creepy underwear and they are also heavily peirced with those freakish i've got a hole in my ear lobe you could stick your fist through earrings which make me want to be sick then die. I'm pretty sure getting a job at HMV on tills is like this: 1. Write a cv with nothing on it but a cover letter stating "oh man i am so passionate about music its like MY LIFE, yknow?". 2. Go to the interview dressed like a goth and walk in with your earphones in. 3. Get the job and then act like a perpetual sore arse for the rest of your working days.

Here are two recent (last 3 days) customer experiences of HMV for me.
Firstly in the Buchanan Street HMV (which used to be the sacred Virgin megastore and now is tit central) I was in with my Mum who was buying two cds, we found them and went to the tills beside the rock/pop stands. At the far end of the tills one of the above described girls stood with one of the above described guys. We hovered for a moment, they didn't give any indication they cared, so we approached the end of the till they were at. The girl then looks up and goes, "actually its at this till up here" signalling to the other end of the tills, and buggars off. We follow, then she takes the items and scans them and bags them, no eye contact, constant scowl. "£19.98" she spits at us, staring with a face like someone just told her she was a fat gothic loser straight up. So we pay then she hands the back to Mum and walks away. Like we are actually the bane of her life and should be dead. I have worked in retail so if you are thinking "yeah, but some customers..." then don't bother, I'm not a bad customer... unless I am given reason to be.

Second Example: In the HMV store at Glasgow Fort shopping centre in Easterhouse. We go in and I find the dvd I am after then take it to the till. Guy (above description still applicable) says "next" we approach hand dvd he scans and bags. I ask "hmv doesn't do student discount, does it?" he replies "no, it does a loyalty card instead which replaced it" I say "ah, I remember always coming in and they said they did do student discount but were all out of cards or something before..." "yeah, they used to only get a certain amount of cards, I used to work in Dundee and there was a big student population but only like a hundred student cards for them..." "Ah I see". At this point I pay and all is well. Had it been "ok, thanks bye" I probably wouldn't be writing this blog. So I said nothing then the guy goes "infact, a lot of people get very uppity when i say there is no studnet discount" I say nothing "I mean your not, but some people are like 'why not?' and i'm like well to be honest why SHOULD you get it? Im a student, and why should there be a discount? what makes YOU deserve it? It's not like you do anything for it? Some people get really uppity but they shouldn't have the reason to, why should HMV do student discount??!" So he spews forth this insane tirade and i merely respond "well I guess they dont need to but it would be frustrating if some people could get the discount and others not cause they ran out of cards..." to which he responds by using they "yer, but-" and reitarating the whole line of his arguement again. By which point i have the product in bag, change and receipt and stuart is shuffling away from the counter with his hand on my arm. "ok bye" i say and leg it. what a maniac. and he had those earring things but not in so his earlobe looked like a floppy piece of leerdammer cheese.

So thats been covered: HMV has bad staff and bad customer service. Here's what else I hate: Poor stock, Poor Prices. The stock in HMV is so geared towards current pop culture and whats "in". If I wanted whats in the charts I would go to WHSmiths, not HMV. They have a GIANT store on Buchanan Street yet instead of putting varied music in it they stuff it with stupid boutique style "im so unique i wear a led zep t shirt" type clothing and rows of cult books about bands and teenage character crises. Not only that but the stuff you do find to buy is insanely priced. Sometimes the cd is 3 for £20 or £12 each or something so you have to take all f-ing day finding 2 other cds or wasting all the money and based on their products that can be very hard. Basically you traul all the best ofs to see what you dont have. Other times you go and look at an old album you need to get or replace to find its like £17.99. £17.99 for a cd that was out like 4 years ago and the band isn't particularly popular? WTF? It really is hit or miss and the worst thing is there is no competition so they can basically do what the fuck they like knowing some people don't like to shop online and then it MUST be HMV or bust. I used to go to Argyll street and go in hmv then virgin and compare and buy the cheapest. Can't do that now. More often than not with HMV i come out not having seen the cd I'm after or having decided to put that £20 towards my pension than bankrupt myself trying to buy all my music at HMV.

As if this wasn't enough while you are in there dealing with these awful circumstances, the context of your visit it always marred with some ridiculously loud, bone chilling, migraine inducing drum and bass type moron music, forced into your ears at ridiculously loud levels. I find it an anomoly that in terms of hiring HMV opts for gothic/metaller types yet in terms of the sound track to its stores it chooses the kind of music that people with cheap cars yet expensive sound systems play at 1am on a tuesday morning driving by my flat.

Finally I must comment on the alternative. If you do some how find the cds you want but just cant face going into the hell hole that HMV is you can always shop online. You can always select seasons 4, 5, 6 and 7 of the west wing online, have seasons 5, 6 and 7 delivered in a week then wait for A MONTH for season 4 because they are having bother with their supplier. Note: this really means we have run out of that item for the offer that was on the website. To buy a copy direct for you would lose us money, even though its our oversight, and we would rather gently prompt you to cancel your order with us even though it is that season which is preventing you from watching the other 3 you bought. Stuarts advice: NEVER GIVE IN. Create a fuss and screw them out of money by thier own ineptitude. MORONS.

Yes, morons indeed. I really do hate HMV. Its probably only still viable because all the competition happened to go bust first. From now on its play.com all the way for me - screw you HMV!! The end.