Travel Plans

Plan 1. 
Do a 6 week Trek America trip.
Pros: You see 38 states, meet new people, do unforgettable things.
Cons: V.Expensive, could only do it in the heat of the summer and may melt.
Note: If I save like crazy & stand in front of an oven every day in practice for the sweltering heats, this is doable.

Plan 2.
Do a 3 week trip around Italy.
Pros: Own itinerary, family in Milan, the most delicious food ever known to man.
Cons: Can't really do it alone for fear of Naples, Italian men, mugging and lunatic drivers. Can't really do it with anyone else because of boyfriends/lack of funds/inability to commit.
Note: If I find someone willing (because a holiday to Italy requires such a strong sense of will...) this is really quite possible, and very exciting.

Plan 3.
Drive around Ireland & N.Ireland for a couple of weeks on a solo photography trip.
Pros: Photographer's paradise, can do it alone, probably cheapest of the three.
Cons: Will only have been driving for a year, potential for lonely boredom, no guarantee of decent weather.
Note: This all of course depends on me not wrecking my first ever car in my first year of driving. If I manage not to, it'll be a fun/interesting experiment to see how much I really can stand my own company...

So as always, I have too many plans and no way of following through on them all. What to do, what to do, what to do.... suggestions. Please. Further ideas welcomed.

Happy times

I'm a sucker for a bit of self pity. It's easy, it's comfortable, and it often involves Ben and Jerry's. But it's also boring, and annoyingly self indulgent. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn't make you feel better, doesn't help your state of mind, and in my case adds pounds in the form of Phish Food. I think I'd rather focus on the happy.

Don't panic. I'm not going to rant on the benefits of positive thinking, positive vibes, positive thoughts, positive affirmations, positive pregnancy tests... The leaders of this new age mumbo jumbo have made a lot of money taking you the long way round, on the motorway, through the roundabouts, behind the car park, over the level crossing, until they finally drag you into 'Happiness.' The shortcut? You know, THROUGH the car park? Don't be such a fucking martyr, and just BE happy!

How dare I say it's that easy!? It's important to stress, I am not judging those with severe depression, anxiety or other psychological challenges. I know people who have lost friends and family to depression, and it is no joking matter. My issue, is that anyone using a sad face in a text can diagnose themselves as 'depressed.' In this day and age, not having a date on a Friday night can spark major ice-cream binges and claims that 'life isn't worth living anymore.' The problem is, society (as soon as this word pops up, you know an important sociological topic is being debated....pfft.) has become far too accepting of this sort of behaviour; encourages it even through TV and Film. Sadness is expected. You're a robot until you've been vulnerable, ideally on a reality tv show in front of millions, and accepted that being sad, is good.

Bollocks.

Yes, everyone should have a good cry. Everyone does indeed get sad, and feels down on occassion. It's human emotion, and it happens. But for the love of Ben, Jerry and your expanding hips, stop bloody wallowing! Stop complaining! Stop blaming the world for your misfortune and, more often than not, your actions. If you're single and miserable, do something about it! Maybe stop being so controlling and expecting Mr Fucked-Up-But-Eligible-Grey to show up on your doorstep. Not getting a job? Re-asses! Get advice! Fix your CV, get experience, and stop posting how unfair your life is on facebook- employers will 'stalk' your page, and no one wants a moaner on staff.

I for one, am going to try and focus on the little slitherings of 'happy' that creep in, ever so subtly, into every single day. Today it was a really good drive. Yesterday, a particularly satisfying glass of cold diet coke. Tomorrow it might not be more than an inch of pink in the sky that manages to bring a small smile to my face.

There's plenty wrong with the world. I'm sure there's plenty wrong with your life, as well. But it is life. You are in fact living. It's easy to forget that when you're busy crying into your ice cream pot because once again, Friday night you're going nowhere and all the lights are changing, green to red.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWbrVWxW-7A

If you want it, come and get it. For crying out loud.

The Olympics

There's something very ironic about watching great athletes do what they do best, whilst lounging about on a comfortable sofa. Catholic guilt kicks in, and I feel like I should be rowing, swimming or... judo-ing? Instead I'm chilling out in pyjamas, cat on lap, box of Special K on standby.

Still, I like to think that while my body isn't experiencing any physical exertion, my subconscious is kicking into high gear and is being motivated as I sit. So that when I do eventually stand, perhaps I'll jog up the stairs instead of crawl. Maybe I'll jump over my coffee table- broken neck, optional- instead of strolling around it. And maybe, just maybe I'll make it out of the house and up the road to the corner shop.

But then again there really is no need to exert myself. I'm no Olympian.

Oh yeah, I have a blog.

I clearly have issues with commitment. The stacks and stacks of unfinished 'books' I've written are constant reminders that I'm not great at seeing things through, and which explain my significant absence from this little blogget. 

However, having abandoned my blog in February, it was nice knowing that when I returned I wouldn't find it had packed its suitcase and shacked up with some leggy blonde who knew how to treat it write (a little stupid wordplay, anyone?). The beauty of the internet ladies and gents; always there for you.

So in the interest of passing on useless information and keeping it short & sweet, here's a mini rundown of my last five months:

Slept.

Ate. 

Did some running. (The production kind, not the exercise kind)

Passed my driving test.

Went to the gym.

Stopped going to the gym.

Took photos.

Slept.

Sold at a number of car boot sales.

Re-painted furniture.

Put together furniture.

Decorated.

Slept.

Cheered on the Olympic Torch.

Stepped out of character.

Joined an agency. (Not of the sexy and/or dating variety)

Went on holiday.

Got brown.

Turned old. (Twenty One and Twelve months)

Got a job.

Won two pounds on a scratchcard.

Slept.

Which of those events was the most exciting, it's hard to tell. It's a toss up between the scratchcard win and sleeping I think.

Having now rediscovered my piece of internet estate, I'll hopefully be visiting more frequently and writing more words that (fingers crossed) form coherent sentences. Then again having said that, in the coming weeks/months I have to write countless personal statement drafts, officially apply for my PGCE, re-learn most of what was taught in English at school (what the hell is an adverb?), socialise (it's a hard life), sleep some more, take my pass plus driving course, get a car, take more photos and read Fifty Shades of Grey (let's see what the erotic fuss is all about, hmm?) If, after all of that, I manage to find time to write about doing all of that, then this will be where it happens. Stay tuned if you feel so pointlessly inclined.

Creative Writing Challenge

Stumble Upon is responsible for hours of procrastination and I LOVE IT. In my latest round of stumbling, I discovered this little creative challenge:

Today, we're heading to the dictionary for a creativity boost. Here's what I want you to do:
You're going to select six words and use them to write a story of less than 250 words. You will select your six words from:

• page 52, 11th word down
• page 111, 2nd word down
• page 144, 1st word down
• page 199, 9th word down
• page 255, 12th word down
• page 243, 6th word down

Now, that you have your six words, open the dictionary at random, close your eyes and select a word. That word will provide the subject of your story.

Use the first three words in your opening paragraph. The last three words may be sprinkled throughout the story.

So, with far more important things to be doing- like finding a job- I decided to accept this challenge instead. A 250 word piece of flash fiction is tricky enough, but add into the mix the most ridiculously random collection of words and you've got yourself quite a task. What I managed to come up with is by no means perfect, and I'm well aware that the end is slightly rushed, but with the words I found I'm pleasantly surprised with the results.

----

words: anisomeric, bargain hunter, blacklist, calcium chloride, caterwaul, checkroom.

subject: menopause

Standing on the roof of my high rise council estate, a few seconds away from eternal Catholic damnation, I contemplated my anisomeric existence.  Although there had been brief spells of promise, they had quickly dissolved in debts, blacklists, accusations and divorce. I had gone from being the perfect family man with a 60K payslip, to a regular car boot-er, desperately flogging my possessions to seasoned bargain hunters. And it had all started with the onset of my wife’s menopause.

June 2004. My wife’s 50^th surprise birthday party was supposed be getting underway in less than an hour. I was putting on my dinner jacket and practising my “our reservation’s at eight and we need to leave time to put our coats in the checkroom” speech, when I heard a horrendous caterwaul erupt from the bathroom.

“Jennifer!?”

“Who is she!?” came back the scream as she threw the door open, brandishing a bottle of fabric softner.

“What...?”

“Tell me or I swear to God I’ll drink this entire bottle!”

“I don’t...”

“Cationic Acrylate, Calcium Chloride Dihydrate... pretty sure it would kill me, don’t you think!?”

We never made it to the party. Her paranoia increased, I lost my job due to depression, and I was served divorce papers within the year. My wife's hormones had marked the start of my demise, even though I had talked her out of suicide.

And as I flew off the roof, I only wished she'd been there to talk me out of it too.

---

It's a bit of fun for anyone who considers themselves as 'having a way with the words.' Plus it's a great time waster that still manages to make you feel productive! If you feel like giving it a go, I'd love to see what you come up with so post it in the comments below :)

The Iron Lady (2012)

Main Cast: Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Richard E.Grant, Anthony Head

Plot Summary: Suffering with dementia, one of England's most notorious Prime Ministers, Margaret Thatcher, looks back at her life.

The Good: - I will always find it hard to fault Meryl Streep. The woman's a phenomenal actress who completely immerses herself in her roles, including this one. For those who remember Thatcher, Streep's portrayal is eerily accurate. As my mum said, "sometimes you weren't sure if you were looking at Maggie or Meryl." It's all in the details, and Streep obviously did her research pre-film, bringing Thatcher's nuances to the screen in a captivating performance.

-The rest of the cast were also successful, and supported Streep's starring role well. Alexandra Roach as the young Margaret and Olivia Colman as Carol Thatcher, both played their parts with determination and precision, not to mention Broadbent who is always so lovely to watch. 

The Bad: - Overall, the story line was badly constructed and the general premise misguided. Choosing to show Thatcher as she is now, struggling with dementia, was a poor decision. Firstly, it's unfair on the living Thatcher, her friends and family. Secondly, it means focusing on a part of her life which is by no means the greatest, and which simply ends up highlighting the flaws of old age, rather than concentrating on the historical figure that Thatcher is. With 11 years in Parliament and many achievements (and failures) throughout, there was much more that the film could have considered.

-Although the use of flashbacks is an easy way to look at part of Thatcher's history, it meant the film was greatly lacking. The most famous aspects of Thatcher's leadership were only briefly shown and most were simply skimmed over. It seems a shame that when there is such a story to be told, it was wasted on flashbacks and images of an old lady talking to herself. 

Memorable Moment: -Prime Ministers Questions. A good example of where Streep excelled at portraying 'The Iron Lady.'

Score: 4/10

Verdict: Other than Streep's excellent impersonation, the film is very forgettable with a badly chosen focal point. If director Phillipa Lloyd wanted to make a film about dementia and old age, she needn't have pretended to make it about a living legend. If however she'd chosen to do a true biopic of Thatcher, the dementia and pathetic little old lady aspect was totally unnecessary. As someone who didn't know the extent of Thatcher's history going into the film, I learnt nothing having seen it. All 'The Iron Lady' succeeded in doing was reminding us how amaze-balls, Meryl Streep truly is. 

Christmas: Am I losing my touch?

In the immortal words of a festive music legend: IT'S CHRIIIIISTMAS.

Nearly, anyway.

It's no secret that I'm a Christmas fanatic. Come boxing day I fall into a deep depression with the knowledge that it's a whole year away. Sure, leftovers help ease the pain for a while, but they're only a small plaster over the gaping bullet wound that is the end of Christmas. And then while everyone else is mourning the end of summer ('oooh it's getting cold!!'), I'm growing more excited by the day at the prospect of jingle bells!

My love of the season probably isn't all that healthy. I mean, what does it say about me? I'm superficial, too focused on the shiny things in life instead of reality, too materialistic? Yes, yes, yes. I like the superficial silly things, I definitely prefer the shiny glitz to the boring grey of daily life, and I enjoy tangible joys. During the year I have to tone down these negative qualities and focus on the positive, but at Christmas? HA. I can go crazy and not feel guilty about it! I can get excited over finding a stray Santa decoration I'd forgotten existed. I can squeal when I find the tinsel and realise I have just the right length to decorate my entire room. And I can most definitely enjoy the over crowded, over stressed and over the top shopping experience. I love it all.

My favourite thing however, has failed to be effectively expressed in the John Lewis Christmas ad. There's been a fair amount of criticism over it- my main issue is that a kid that age is not going to be affording anything from John Lewis for his parents. They'll be lucky if they get a coat hanger shaped into something other than a coat hanger. But I understand the general idea behind it, because my genuinely favourite part of Christmas is the giving of presents. Now I know that's not what Christmas is about bla bla bla, and thank you Jesus for being born all those years ago, but I love that feeling you get when you know you've hit the present on the head. I've always considered myself quite the present giver, and that's because I analyse people for the few months in the lead up to Christmas. I listen a little more carefully to their stories, and amidst all the general crap that is chit-chat, I get ideas for their present. So when Christmas finally comes and Person A can tear open my expertly wrapped gift (most of my talents revolve around this season...), their reaction is totally worth the effort of paying that little bit more attention.

Which finally brings me to my point. I fear my skills haven't effectively been put to use this year. Usually around this time I'd have most of my presents sorted, with only a few loose ends needing to be tied up. That's not the case this year. I have a number of the smaller gifts, but I'm totally stuck on the biggies. Problem 1: A severe lack of funds. Despite the recent acquirement of a job (WEHEY) I am well into my overdraft. Not good. Problem 2: An even greater lack of ideas!! This is my field, my talent, my greatest advantage!! And yet I find myself having to ask people what they want. I never ask! I always find and fulfill a need that may not have even been known. But now here I sit, head in hands, begging the fat man in the red suit for inspiration.

Of course, I know none of it really matters. Christmas isn't about the presents, and my family don't care what's under the paper. But that's not the point! When I give a present it's not about the actual physical item, but the time, thought and effort that's gone into it. That's what I love giving, and that's what everyone appreciates receiving. This year I feel like there is no time (I can't believe it's December already...), my thinking hat isn't fulfilling it's job description, and I seem to be making no effort to fix the situation. This has left me feeling all a little overwhelmed. Of course it doesn't help that every time I think of a possible solution, I forget it before I have the chance to write it down. Dear Santa, this year I'd like a new brain please.

I'm hoping that as they did with all my essays, the ideas will start to flow with just enough time to spare. In the meantime I plan to go overboard on the Christmas music, write my Christmas cards, and enjoy the festivities. Because for all it's commercialism, money-making and present stress, 'tis the season to be jolly tra la la la la la la la la!!