Some words just plain suck

Want to wind me up?  Use one of the following words or phrases:

• Amazeballs
• Awesomesauce
• Much
• My Bad
• Nom
• Not 
• Shitballs

I’d never seen “awesomesauce” or “amazeballs” before joining twitter.  The only prefixes that should be attached to the word “balls” should be sports related – soccer, rugby and so on.

Sentences that end in "much" or "not" show a complete lack of ability to write humorously.  Sarcasm isn’t even a tiny bit funny. It’s pathetic, weak and totally unoriginal.   Where the hell did “much” come from anyway?  “Not” was bad enough. 

By the way, have you ever thought about the word much – how it sounds, how it feels to say it? Much is actually a ghastly sounding word. Even the f-word isn’t as hideous to say or hear as much. Much is so fleshy and salivary to pronounce. In fact, it’s down right creepy. Much. Much. Much.

As for “my bad”...that drives me INSANE.  My bad is an appalling phrase that needs to be given the old heave-ho. Shame on all the script writers who have included it in their scripts. Shame on you.  Bad script writers. Go to the naughty corner.  Hearing it spoken on television and in movies just increases the desire of the masses to use it more.  Then, the more I hear it, the more I want to hunt down the little idiot who coined the phrase in the first place and string him up by his goolies.

But the one that grates on my nerves more than any of the others is “nom”.  Adults using “nom” to describe something appetising or to inform others that they’re masticating while tweeting is horrific.

Nom. What the hell are you? Three?  I feel embarrassed whenever I see it. Seriously embarrassed.  Surely rattling around in your vocabulary somewhere is a word better than nom. Look for it.

I was going to sign off with something witty that used all the words and phrases initially listed, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Diana

Fourteen years has now passed since my beloved Princess Diana passed away in Paris. Her death was the first 'celebrity' death that knocked me for a six. I was devastated. I was completely heartbroken. And, I was truly shocked at the level of my grief for an amazing woman I'd never met or even seen in real life.

Diana changed the British monarchy for the better. Out went the stiff upper lip, the haughtiness, the lack of real human connection. In came fun, laughter and style.

Her portrait is amongst my favourite belongings on my piano <3

There are so many things I'd like to say, but once again I'm blogging from my iPhone (which is a total test of perserverance). Instead, I'll leave it at this:

Diana, you were known as "The People's Princess". To me, you were a fairytale princess who became the most beautiful shining star in heaven.

Rest in peace

100% Blogged from iPhone

Jeepers! Blogging tonight is gonna be a challenge.

Several months ago whilst in a very 'friendly' mood, I shared my Speights with my beautiful white Sony Vaio laptop. I didn't realise that the Vaio had a sensitive system and was allergic to gluten (there's gluten in beer, right?).

Anyway, the Speights somehow sucked up into the screen and created a black hole the diametre of an average mandarin. To cut a long story short, I needed to find a gap in my study timetable and PR work to send it away. Today was that day, 366 days after purchasing it.

My beautiful Vaio has now sailed off on the courier. I'm fairly certain it will be written off. I hope I backed up everything correctly on the external harddrive :(

God bless insurance. And, God bless iPhones. How would I get my blogging fix without one?

I know you're wondering if have I learned anything from this episode? Why, yes...yes I have. Lesson: Don't share Speights with gluten free sensitive system Vaios. They'd probably prefer something less upsetting, perhaps Ginger-ale or Green Tea.

Meow...woof!

I had an absolute BRAINWAVE last night, and decided to blog the idea so it would be time-stamped for eternity.  As long as I get the credit for this idea, I'm happy for someone else to turn it into reality (and give me a freebie).

Firstly we have to go back in time to 1pm on the 14th June 2003.  I was innocently walking through the cattery at the Waikato SPCA, minding my own business. As I peered into a cage I'd looked in the week previously, the occupant looked up at me with two HUGE eyes, one blue and one yellow.  The week before the occupant had been curled up in a muddy ball fast asleep.

As our eyes made contact he said "Maah!".  I glanced at his information sheet.  It basically said something along the lines of "single white male".  I wasn't interested.  In my mind's eye, I wanted a grey, shorthaired female cat who I could name Roberta aka Bobcat or Bob for short.

Here was an extraordinarily fluffy white male with unmatching eyes, a pink nose and a caramel coloured chin.  The fluff was endless...fluff from here to kingdom come.

I walked on down the corridor and the single white male called out after me "Maah. Maah.  Waaah aaah maah" or something to that effect.  I turned back and asked him if the SPCA had reinstalled his voice-box. He kept gazing at me and "maah maah aaah waaah"ing. 

The attendant said "I think he likes you, how about I let him out for a walk around".  Before I could say a thing, she'd unlocked the padlock and he stepped out in all his fluffy glory and started (I kid you not) catwalking up and down the corridor, waggling* his tail.

Eight years later and this blue-eyed fluff ball is without doubt the love of my life.  We're addicted to eachother, so much so that my sister worries for the two of us.  He makes me laugh and laugh...he has such a funny little sense of humour. And yes, he still talks the legs off an iron pot.

But I digress.  The brainwave, wtf is the brainwave I hear you ask?  This:

Someone should set up a business whereby people who didn't get their pets as juveniles can send in a photo and in turn photos of their pets as kittens or puppies can be generated.  Kind of like a Benjamin Button photographic process for pet lovers.

I think my blue-eyed fluffy darling would have been the cutest thing ever as a kitten.  He was approximately 18 months old when he moved in. Whoever abandoned him in the first place should be ashamed, but without that occurring, he and I would never have met. 

Anyway, I'd love to have an image of what he may have looked like as a kitten.  Someone, make it happen.  With the right marketing, you'd be sitting on a goldmine.

*Waggling - its hard to explain how he does it, but think of him forming a question mark with his fluffy tail then immediately reversing the question mark, and so on and so forth, repeatedly.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Postscript: A friend on twitter tweeted me this image. Awwww! Thank you so much Martin, it made my day.

Wish someone had told me that earlier, ow.

There are countless blogs on the internet that offer suggestions and tips as to how to improve your life/business/marriage, etc, etc. They drive me crazy.  But, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I say.  So, here it goes...my top 3 lifestyle tips:

1.  Invest in blackout curtains
Even if you never own the house/caravan/trailer/car in which you regularly sleep, buy some blackout curtains.  They are honestly the best thing ever invented (even better than curly fries dipped in aioli and sprinkled with rock salt, and that's sayin' something).  I'd bet my last dollar that John Donne would have killed for blackout curtains when he wrote the following in the early 1600's:

THE SUN RISING
by John Donne

Busy old fool, unruly Sun, 

Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?

I had to analyse that sonnet at university (just to clarify - that was my first attempt at university, a combined Law and Arts degree.  Ended up getting a waaaaay better Business degree in the end). Anyway, in our English Literature tutorials, we spent so many hours on Donne's works, that ever since then I've automatically quoted those first few lines to myself whenever I've been woken up by that annoying blazing orange thing way up high, in the middle of the sky.

Seventeenth century sonnets at 6.13am after downing a case of beer in the previous 12 hours?  Yup, its all fun and games inside my head on those particular mornings 8-/

2.  Hide an emergency $20 note from yourself

My friends and I began doing this when we first started hitting the town.  All you need to do is fold up a $20 note and put it in a section of your wallet or purse that you generally don't look in for cash.  Twenty bucks can get you out of all sorts of strife.  It'll pay for a taxi, food and (these days) can be used to top up pre-paid phones.

There is NOTHING like finding that magical $20 note when you're drunk, sitting on the curb and just need to get home. 

The magical part? The cash didn't appear when you were at that last bar, it appeared when all hope seemed lost.

3.  Take up a hobby you enjoyed as a kid

Remember the good ole days before mortgages, bills, credit card debt and needing to work full-time?  Life was all about school, soccer practice, birthday parties and your next new set of wheels (of the bike, rollerblade or skate variety).

One of great things about being a kid was not being afraid to try something new (especially if the popular kids were doing it).  And nah, I don't mean secks, drugs and rock'n'roll, I mean music lessons, playing sports, delving into fine arts.

My sister and I kept ourselves flat-tack after school with with piano lessons, clarinet (for me), trumpet (for her), netball practice (for me), soccer practice (for her), ballet, gymnastics, Girls Brigade, Sunday School, horse-riding, cooking, sewing, water-colour painting and origami classes.  Hell, I even had Mahjong lessons!

In the last few years, I've started playing the piano again, painting watercolours (of cats and deer, mainly), doing some origami and have taken up tap dancing.  All of these things have made my life fuller, and definitely more fun. 

Many of my school friends who I've connected with on facebook have also reaped the benefits of going back to activities they enjoyed as kids.  A couple of them are even posting their Nike app running times to keep the other runners inspired. 

So, drag out Mum's photo albums, check out the stuff you were doing as a kid (except eating worms, Perrin) and pick up one of those activities again.  I swear you'll wish you'd done it sooner. Promise.

Pinky promise, even.

Pigeon holes and Eagle eyes

A friend posted this absolute gem on facey the other day "Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle".  On the first read, I felt complacent.  But for some reason I read it again, and it literally sat me on my ass.

I immediately began thinking about EVERYONE and started figuring out their battles.  Most were easy - financial, ill health, weight, employment, loneliness, time management, addiction and relationship battles.  But there were a few people that I just couldn't pigeon-hole.  What could their battles be?  These people seemed to have it all* - success in their chosen field, good health and happiness.

The solution? Stalking. I started to stalk.  I went back and read their online profiles with an eagle eye.  I tried to delve into their online thoughts that had manifested out of their fingertips.  I literally puzzled over these few people, even in the dead of night when sleep evaded me.  Battles, where for art thou battles?

Even though I couldn't quite figure it out, I asked myself one question "would I want to be that person?".  In every case, the answer was a resounding no. 

Some battles can never be won, but with age comes wisdom and I'm beginning to accept that I need to adapt to certain situations and learn to cope.

And, just by simply typing that admission, I then had this...ding!...a lightbulb moment.  Maybe these unpigeonholeable (yes, I take full responsibility for that extraordinary addition to the English language) people had adapted? 

Perhaps their coping mechanisms were so well honed that in fact their battles were now just par for the course?  Perhaps they did have massive financial worries, but had been to the bank, sorted out their finances and were living on a strict budget?  Maybe their loneliness was being fulfilled online?

That was the answer :-) Those few people whose battles I couldn't quite suss out had learned to cope.  So although their problems weren't as obvious to the rest of us, they were indeed fighting battles too, but just fighting them on the d-lo. 

Hallelujah, no longer will these people keep me awake! God bless blogspot.

So, in closing, I'd like to maturally finish with: Nyah, nyah unpigeonholeable people that have it all*, I have got you sussed.  You too, are battling "something".  I know it.  I don't know what. But I know you've got it under control.  I can rest easy now.



*My own interpretation of "all".

PS. For those who are interested, the quote is attributed to both TH Thompson & John Watson.  However, that absolute legend Plato said the following waaaaay before those dudes "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle".

Guinea Pigs, Crocodiles & Boogie Monsters

Occasionally I like to do experiments on myself to see how I cope with fear, stress and stepping outside my comfort zone.

My most recent experiment was to overcome a childhood fear today at 2am (of course).  The experiment failed and I tweeted this:

WriteOnNZ

I still cannot sleep with 1 foot hanging off my bed for fear of the crocodile that lives under my bed eating said foot during the night

Then a friend tweeted back to say that she has to close the wardrobe door so that the monsters can't get out while she's sleeping, which then lead me to tweet this:

WriteOnNZ

I HAVE to check the wardrobe for the boogie monster before I get into bed, even in hotels, friends houses etc. Just did it now

I enjoy reading your comments.  Now, I'd love it if you'd confirm that I'm not mad, and that you also struggle with such issues.  Please tell me that crocodiles and boogie monsters are commonplace in bedrooms around the world ;-)