Friday, December 31, 2010

That was the year that was...

Well, 2010 - you're on your way out aren't you?

It's difficult to know what to write about at this point. Do I review all the incredibly epic things that have happened in the world this year? Elections? Broken promises? Riots? Chaotic weather patterns? Murders? Royal Engagements?

I mean, as a nation we've been busy. If someone asked us to fill in a form showing our productivity as a nation for the last 12 months I think we'd be ok to say - "We've definitely done more than the odd the finger painting." We've even survived a recession. Most of us have survived the recession by wondering if we'd know we were surviving one without the papers to keep harbinging doom our way.

To be honest, I don't think I can remember all the stuff that's happened this year and The Big Fat Quiz Of The Year will probably shoe horn everything I had to say into a tight Jimmy Carr witticism anyway so I'm not really sure I need to bother.

I could review my year for you - it's been busy. Busier than the average. Returned from lapland, moved to London, got a job, got dumped (repeat that as often as necessary), moved house, went to Edinburgh, got a new job, moved house again...busy nah?

However, mostly my year has been absolute turmoil and me running around as though both my arse and hair were on fire going "Oh bugger bugger" In a terribly Bridget Jones manner. I'm not sure I want to subject you to reading that as large portions of my year were repeatedly giving into the same dumbass man and getting my self esteem battered. Yum, cod.

Well...not any more. Huzzah. 2011 is going to be...

...oh fuck off anyone that thought I was going to write some free spirited bullshit about how great and different 2011 is going to be. Of course it isn't. It'll be exactly the bloody same. Of course I'm hoping not to move house so much having found one with limited numbers of rodents. But let's not kid ourselves that I'll do anything like make good decisions or not be a whiny bitch about it once I've done it.

Good. I'm glad we're all on the same page.

Now, what are your plans for this evening? Excellent. Good work. I'm glad to see you're celebrating properly. If you need me I will be with my sisters playing Singstar and Cranium until the wee small hours and possibly singing Auld Lang Syne into a mug of wine. Or a beaker. One of the best things about being an Aunt is access to children's cups, meaning you can sup your alcohol in a wholly inappropriate fashion. That is, if you're not just drinking the wine straight out of the box.

So, New Year's Resolutions?

1. To always be having fun.

Anything else can go to hell.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Slow On The Uptake

Well blogosphere, how are we all?

I've a confession to make - recently I've watched the Twilight films. I watched them in the wrong order apparently, meaning that I've now seen Eclipse, New Moon (the 2nd and 3rd ones) but not Twilight (the 1st one).

They are not good films.

I know, I know. I'm about 6 months behind the rest of the known world in watching them and coming to this conclusion. I didn't mind watching them - I've tried my hardest to watch only films this festive period (films and Porridge, truth be told) so I quite enjoyed their epicness. They seem to get better the firhter you get into the series. Sadly for me, this meant that I watched it peak and since then have been watching the desire to live drain out of myself.

I've not brought myself to watch Twilight yet, although I'm going to have to, and soon.

I've bee doing a lot of reflecting the last few weeks. I guess when you find yourself doing a Christmas as a singleton for the first time in 3 years, you reflect on what it means. Never, I REPEAT NEVER, do this whilst watching the Twilight films. It will lead to a conversation like this going on in your inner monlogue -

Man that girl is boring.
And pale.
And definitely not fun.
Who is that pale man kissing her and delivering a constant soliloquy about how she is his reason for living?
Wow. He really likes her.
She is not fun. Why does he like her?
Ah, well. Let the boring folk run riot together in their grey little world.
Wait a minute...who is this beautifully sculpted man? Why does he have that squashy nose?
Never mind the nose, he's taken his t-shirt off again.
Why is HE kissing her now?
Why is he saying he'll never give up on her?
I haven't seen or heard her do a single interesting thing yet and all these men are in love with her?
She is not fun.
Wait, who is this beautiful man with a Tom Selleck like moustache?
He doesn't seem to be kssing her?
Oh crap. He spawned her.
I miss Tom Selleck.

My trail of thought will trail off here and I might end up watching 3 Men and a Baby or Meet The Robinsons, but you catch my drift.

Now I'm going to have to watch the first film to find out what she did in that film that was so great that she can act like a drip for two more films and there will still be a puddle of hottie around her ankles humping away wildly and begging her to stay.

I'm hoping she had some kind of super awesome cat fight where she clawed the face off a ho and then stole her fledgling porn career. Poor Selleck-tache-Dad would be gutted but it'd make great viewing.

Of course this blog won't make much sense if you haven't seen the films but then maybe it'll save you the pain of ever being curious enough to watch them. I certainly wish I hadn't. If you see me in 2011 with lank hair, no make up, no smile, and a penchant for doing the stupidest option have available to me then you will know that I have cracked and sacrificed everything in order to snare a manbeast.

Not that either of her options are particularly appealling. Pale face talks faaaarrr too much about 'His reason for living' (ie - MiseraBella) which is all very well and good - but it's not fun.

Hey Reason For Living, fancy doing karaoke?
I can't, I'm contemplating eternity.
Hey Reason For Living, do you want to watch Crocodile Dundee with me?
No, I just can't bear to watch such peril. It reminds me of when you were stupid enough to risk your life over an angsty row we had.
Hey Reason For Living, can I do you from behind?

Reason For Living, are you still there??

But she wouldn't still be there. She would be away somewhere else, because she is not fun. Not that agreeing to be done from behind is a prerequisite for being fun (unless the toilet wall is your bible - 3rd cubicle, paragraph 19)

And the buff one that loves her? WHY IS HE HAIRLESS LIKE A BABY?

He is meant to be a werewolf and yet he has been waxed within an inch of his life. This is not good. Not good at all. Real men have hair. Just take a look at Selleck-tache-Dad...he knows how to do it.

So there you go, now I can go back to my Porridge reruns and a trip bowling with my family. I am an awful bowler...

Monday, December 20, 2010

Call me Macauley...

It's a worrying week for my nerves. The entire world has gone ballistic over the snow...the media is barely content with criticising the government for the financial world crisis - we are now being led by morons incapable of stocking up on enough grit to keep us safe in these Arctic times. I'm biting my tongue. I'm not asking the obvious question - "Hey Daily Mail, if we did have enough grit supplies to deal with this weather would your headline by any chance be - AFTER TEN YEARS OF WASTING MONEY ON GRIT INSTEAD OF USING IT TO SEND PEOPLE BACK TO WHERE THEY CAME FROM IT FINALLY COMES IN HANDY".

It's not that I want the country to be at a standstill - far from it. I'm currently on my way to Leeds - havign got up at 5:30am to be delayed by 90 minutes with no real idea as to whether I'll even be able to get back once I arrive at my destination. I'm sort of imagining a Home Alone style Christmas at this point where I'll have heaps of fun, cause some damage and then learn something poignant. Only it'll happen in Leeds. Which might mean I'll need to glam it up a bit. Glam? Is that the right word?

Last time I went to Leeds I got licked by a hobo. Sitting, incredibly hungover, in the foyer of my hotel trying to remember where I lived and why I was in Leeds I was set upon by a man insistent on showing me his tummy. Once he'd shown me his tummy I was licked. Joyeaux Noel.

Even If I do get back from Leeds today, I still have to make it back to Somerset on Friday. Friday - Christmas Eve - at 5:30pm when I finish work. Sheesh when did being a grown up become such a ball ache? I don't even have balls! Am I not meant to be rolling around in the snow, playing with family and preparing to be snowed in, not out?

With any luck there'll be plenty of snow to go around but it will just manage to happily miss the stretch of the M3 and A303 as I desperately try to be in my bed by midnight to wait for the big man.

Fingers crossed.