The Magical Cheering-Up Power of Kittens

Ok, well this is a short blog. A very short blog. Possibly even shorter than yesterday's. It's a too-long-for-a-tweet, too-short-for-an-actual-blog blog.

So, who is feeling sad/grumpy/angry thismorning? Yes, i was too. It's generally quite a miserable day.

Anyway, i have something that might cheer you up a little bit.

I bring you...

...

...

...

Kitten In A Cot.



Awwww! Cute!

Oasis 'n' Stuff

If you've seen the news, you'll know that Noel Gallagher has left Oasis.

Oh Well.

I don't particularly like Oasis. I don't particularly dislike them. That is all i can say about them.

I am definitely not a crazy fan...

However, i have a hamster called Noel. Who used to have a brother called Liam (who was eaten, earlier this year, by one of my mother's evil cats)

I bet you thought i named them after the Gallagher brothers, didn't you?

Well, you're wrong.

Nope, little Noel is named after Noel Fielding - who is excellent. And VERY short! did you know that? - he's really really tiny! Anyhoo, Liam (who was a bit horrible) was named after Liam Gallagher. No, not THAT Liam Gallagher, Liam Gallagher from Shameless (that was my favourite TV program at the time).

The whole Gallagher brother thing was an (almost) unintentional mistake. Honest!

Arguments and Other Sad Things.

Grown-ups are strange creatures.

I seriously don't understand them but from what i have seen over these past 13 years, i have learnt this:

1) Grown-ups really like being grumpy.

2) Because they are grown-ups, they must always be right. even when they are very very wrong, they are still right.

3) Because they are always right, they see no reason to listen to anyone else.

4) Grown-ups love arguing.

I hate arguing. I just don't see the point. I never argue, i simply let the other person shout at me for a bit and I don't mind much because usually they have a good reason to be shouting, or, if they haven't got a good reason, at least i know that they're wrong. There is absolutely no point in telling them my point of view because they are so angry that they're not going to listen.

Does that make sense?

But what i really hate is other people arguing. It's sad because when you're not involved, you can see how silly it is. You can see that people are getting upset and upsetting each other over something that so silly that they've probably forgotten what they're actually arguing about.

Still making sense? Do stop me if I'm not.

And what i really really hate is my parents arguing. Especially as i know they've been arguing but they refuse to admit it.

*huff*

I'm the teenager. I'm supposed to be the one screaming and slamming doors.

I told them to stop arguing. Both of them looked at me and said,

"It's not that simple"

I think it is that simple.

I think if they both just say sorry, everything will be fine.

This morning, to stop me seeing that they were arguing, they went to the end of the garden and shouted at each other.

I watched from the window.

They really are silly.

Anyway,

Did you know that today in 1883 was the volcanic eruption of Indonesia's Mount Krakatoa?

That's sad... 36,417 people died.

Disney and Other Nonsense.

I've been singing this constantly for the last 3 days:

The wonderful thing about tiggers
Is tiggers are wonderful things!
Their tops are made out of rubber
Their bottoms are made out of springs!
They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
But the most wonderful thing about tiggers is
I'm the only one
Tiggers are cuddly fellas
Tiggers are awfully sweet
Ev'ryone el-us is jealous
That's why I repeat... and repeat

The wonderful thing about tiggers
Is tiggers are marvelous chaps!
They're loaded with vim and vigor
They love to leap in your laps!
They're jumpy, bumpy, clumpy, thumpy
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
But the most wonderful thing about tiggers is
I'm the only one
I-I-I'm , the only O-n-n-eee!

See. Annoying isn't it.

I was looking for it on youtube, i was going to put it in a blog so you could all have it stuck in your heads and you could share my pain...

however.

I came accross this...



i'm sure it's at least 7x better in Swedish.

Which made me think, which other disney songs would be better in different languages?

These are my favourites:

Failure

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that don't work"

More calendar wisdom.

I promise you that i have found way more than 10,000 ways that don't work for changing blog templates. Silly Blogger. It's still not how i really wanted it but it will have to do.

I made a header and everything - impressed? no? well you wouldn't be would you!

So, what do you think? don't say you liked it how it was before because i have no intention of undoing all of my hard work. 1 whole hour i spent, swearing at this computer and threatening to smash things. All for you. Yes, you.

I decided to change it a bit after i learnt that there are actually a few of you who read this... well, at least more than 4. *Hello*.

And for reading my blog, i will reward you with VERY INTERESTING FACTS:

Did you know that today in 1949, English author Martin Amis was born?

Bet you didn't know that!

Actually...

Do you know who he is?

I don't.

Normally i'd google him but today is one of those days that google changes to have a silly picture instead of the "Google" bit and that really freaks me out.

Sooo... opinions on new blog layout and information about Martin Amis, please.

What A Lovely Strange Man!

When i was very very young, i was taught never to speak to strange men. I think most people were, in fact i remember when i was 10, we had "The Life Bus" come to our school.

It was basically a smelly little caravan with a very miserable woman in. We were made to sit in this caravan and were talked at about perverts and people who would try to give us drugs and men with beards. Well, she tried to talk at us about them but as i went to a school full of horrible little girls who seriously believed they were better than everyone else because their parents were rich, i think she only spoke for about 10 minutes, then ran away crying.

Anyway, i had never spoken to strange men and had been suspicious of everyone with a beard, until about February. Now, on Twitter, i speak to strange men on a daily basis, i would even say that i am friends with some strange men. And from twitter, i have learnt that it's actually a very small percentage of the world that want to kill you/give you drugs/whatever else.

Since then, i have spoken to lots of strange people in real-life too and am no longer terrified and suspicious of everyone i see walking down the street.

Even so, i couldn't help but be a little worried when a strange man, wearing a hooded top (and he had a beard) started talking to me, as i was standing in an alley-way, waiting for my aunt on Wednesday.

Especially as he had crept up behind me (which made me jump) and the first thing he said to me was:

"Your hair looks very pretty".

CREEEEEPY!

To be fair, it was a very warm afternoon (that's why i was standing in the alley-way - to get away from the sun), i had just run from Greenwich DLR station to my aunt's office and my hair had escaped from the plait i had attempted to put it in and was sticking up at every angle possible, so i was looking in a mirror, trying to flatten it down.

I was seriously considering running away, or screaming but he then handed me a leaflet and told me his name was Reg and we continued to have a lovely conversation.

My Aunt works for a record company, turns out this man was handing out leaflets for some man that was doing some recording there. So, as i waited for my aunt, i went and peered through the window of a recording studio and watched this man do some recording:

www.myspace.com/termzymusic

To be honest, the music is rather shit. But i thought I'd write about it anyway...

(if anyone wants to talk to truly lovely strange man - and i think he has a beard... - could i please recommend Damien/damohopo)

A Rant

i haven't written a blog for ages. Well, it feels like ages! Today's blog is a rant. A VERY ANGRY RANT!! and it's directed at Tesco.

On Saturday, i went to Tesco - the one in Bromley and i bought something from their frozen vegetarian range called "bean pie". I thought

"Well, i like beans and i like pie."

So last night, i ate it.

I had once mouthful of the nice potato topping (even though i don't ussually like mashed potato, this was very yummy, sort of orange coloured). Then, as i went to eat a bit more, i saw something that made me feel sick and nearly made me throw my plate across the room.

The Devil's Food.

Evil in Vegetable Form.

Courgette.

Yuck Yuck Yuck Yuck Yuck!!!

I do not remember the packaging saying "courgette infested" anywhere! well, it didn't say it in big writing, and does anyone honestly read the small writing?

Then, because i was angry and sad that this nice looking food was now inedible, i counted up all of the beans and all of the pieces of courgette.

The ratio of beans to courgette was 1:5. THAT IS DISGUSTING!!

Why didn't they call it "courgette pie". then i wouldn't have wasted time and money buying and cooking it!

Why didn't they call it "Devil's Food Pie"

Or simply "Pie Of All EVIL"

As you can see, I'm still rather cross. In fact, i feel that a letter of complaint should be written. Meh, maybe later...

Let The Right One In

Last night, i watched a film. I watched Let The Right One In, as you will know from my blog about Harry Potter, i am not good at writing about films. So i will tell you exactly what i thought:

It was really good. It was a lot less confusing than the book but it was sad and lovely and really disgusting all at the same time. I liked it a lot.

My mother said it was weird and horrible and disturbing but she liked the fact she was watching a film that wasn't in English because it made her feel "arty" (i know, she is VERY strange).

My father did as he always does through every film and was asking questions every 10 seconds:

"Is she a vampire?"

"Is he really dead?"

"What's that in the bag?"

"She is a vampire, isn't she?"

"Who's that boy, the dead one?"

"She's going to eat him, isn't she?"

"Why isn't she wearing a hat?"

...And my absolute favourite question he has ever asked...

"Is this based on a true story?"

I would have watched it on my own but my computer didn't want to play the DVD. So i watched it downstairs whilst my parents were eating dinner. They were eating pizza.

I may have commented that a man who has burnt half his face off with acid looks a bit like a pizza. I know, I am sick. Sorry.


It doesn't take a lot to give me nightmares so inevitably, i had terrible terrible dreams last night. The only thing is, instead of dreaming about vampires and blood and falling from windows on the 7th floor, i dreamt that i lived in a flat with far too many cats and they were all smelly and vicious and inbred. And i think that scared me more than a dream about the un-dead would have. Mostly because, with my mad-cat-lady mother, it's not actually that unlikely.

What Beautiful Eyebrows!

I had my eyebrows waxed today.

I really don't know why. Now i think about it, it seems like a strange thing to do and a bit of a waste of time. My face is a mess, i have teeth that make me look a bit like a rat, an "overly pointy nose" - to quote a boy that i once fancied, eyes that can't decide what colour they want to be, wonky ears, my glasses are permanently filthy and hair that sticks up at unnatural angles, not to mention my skin-tone that makes me look constantly unwell. I don't mind, and I'm definitely not looking for sympathy - i think it suits my personality and even though i hate being called "cute" at least people don't run away screaming:

"MY EYES! MY EYES! WHAT IS THAT MONSTROSITY!?"

But now, to add to my badly thrown together features, i have very neat and pointy eyebrows. Which is odd. I'm sort of hoping that next time i go out, people will look at me and the first thing they will say is:

"Nice eyebrows!"

not because i like getting compliments - i hate compliments but it would make me laugh. a lot.

Someone who falls over as much as i do just sort of gets used to pain, i don't make a fuss unless something really really hurts. Having your eyebrows waxed really really hurts. Just a warning.

You may be asking yourself "why, if she thinks it's a waste of time, did she get her eyebrows waxed". Or you may not be thinking that, i don't know. Mrs Bodenham, one of the wisest people i know once told me never to make assumptions because they will ALWAYS be wrong. always.

Anyhoo, i got side tracked... Here is why: i was bored.

Honestly, i had absolutely nothing better to be doing, i have spent the last week, waking up at 12ish, then listening to music and staring out of the window for a few hours, going to the gym, doing a bit more staring, then going to bed at about 12.

So this morning, my mother came into my room and said, "Shall we go and play some golf today?" and i said,

"No. because golf is for old people in stupid trousers." I think that might have upset her a bit but she then looked at my face for quite a while, then in a very disapproving way said,

"You're nearly 14, you should do something with your eyebrows." Of course, i did think this was an odd thing to say, but as we've already established, in the land of the weird, my mother is the weirdest.

So, because i thought it might be an interesting experience, i said ok.

It wasn't really an interesting experience. Unless you think a woman with badly died hair and too much fake tan, looming over you with a paint brush is interesting. I didn't, i thought it was boring. Then we went to Iceland and i ran around playing "it" with my dad. That was much more interesting. (and i wonder why my mother despairs of me!?)

The picture is of me - i'm sure you guessed that. It shows me at my tidiest (i was about to go to my grandmother's house) it also demonstrates my dreadful mirror picture taking. Oh well, you're not really that interested, i can tell.

Chocolate Cake and The Kray Twins

Today, i have been to the gym. Not because I'm a mental middle aged woman desperately trying to not look like a middle aged woman. No, i went to the gym because my mother is a mental middle aged woman desperately trying to not look like a middle aged woman and she's also a little shy. So i said that if it would make her feel better, i would go to the gym with her and make sure none of the bigger mental people pick on her. I did this because i am a wonderful daughter, also so that next time she starts shouting at me for being rude/untidy/forgetful/an awful human being, i can bring up the fact that I've sacrificed much of my precious sitting-in-my-room-being-a-moody-teenager time to go to the gym with her so that she can be a size 10 by Christmas (i have asked Christmas in which year but got a dirty look and no answer).

To prove that I'm definitely not a mental health obsessed person (also to annoy my mother just a little bit), i came home and ate a slice of the most wonderful chocolate cake ever invented. yummy. I enjoyed it even more as my mother sat next to me, glaring at me in a way that clearly said "i hate you". Just as she stood up to go to the kitchen and get herself a slice of cake, my calendar's daily wisdom came in useful once again, i said:

"Winners never quit. Quitters never win."

I'm not really sure what that means but it seemed like a good thing to say. I thought it was a nice, encouraging thing to say, but the response from my mother was "You sound like a fucking life coach." followed by much stomping about and cake-eating.

(I don't think she even appreciated the excellence of the chocolate and Guinness cake as much as she should have - if you don't believe me, ask Kathy. (ohhh! i can do those link things! excting!)

The gym was rather boring. But I showed my wounded arm to a random man who was doing some rowing (not actual rowing with water and stuff - he was using a rowing machine) and kept making weird noises. he looked at it, then said "ooh! that looks nasty." that pleased me, that's the most sympathy i've got since i fell over.

"Today in 1982 - The notorious Kray Twins were allowed out of prison for their mother's funeral."
i watched a documentary about the Kray twins once, i don't remember much about it except they killed a man called Jack The Hat, which is an amazing name - how do you get a nickname like that?!

why i can't sleep

when i close my eyes i see scary things...
so i try not to close my eyes...
i try very very hard - just staring at the wall.
but.
then.
by accident.
i blink...
AHHHH!
there they are again...
being scary...

Turtles and Sticky Situations

"Behold the turtle; he only makes progress when he sticks his neck out"

That's what my calendar is telling me today. I may have said before, but my calendar is one of the smartest people i know. Everyday, he shares a little of his wisdom as well as an interesting fact that always makes me go "Oh! i NEVER knew that!". For example, did you know that today in 1977, Queen Elizabeth II visited Northern Ireland for the first time in 11 years? I bet you didn't know that, did you? Once you have a lovely little fact like that, you can use it in conversation, not only does it impress people but it sometimes baffles them (to your advantage), it is also a very very good awkward silence filler. I know, it's a lot to take in, so i'll give you some examples:

Eg. 1

(there was some conversation before this - it would be weird otherwise)

..."Yes, my dog used to do that all the time when he was a puppy"

"Oh, that's nice, what's your dog called?"

"Francis... He's dead now."

"I'm very sorry to hear that!"

"It's ok, he was a horrible little thing so i shot him."

*very long and awkward silence*

You: "Did you know that today in 1977, Queen Elizabeth II visited Northern Ireland for the first time in 11 years?"

Eg. 2

"Stephanie, you STILL haven't found your maths book?"

"erm... no"

"have you even looked for it?"

"err...well... did you know that today in 1977, Queen Elizabeth II visited Northern Ireland for the first time in 11 years?"

"really, i NEVER knew that!"

See, my random facts have got me out of many a sticky situation.

Anyway, my point is (yes, this does actually have a point)... i like my calendar very very much. where did i get it? i stole it from my father's desk. which proves that stealing is probably a good thing.

(actually, that wasn't my point, i went to eat dinner just after i wrote "i like my calendar very..." and when i came back, i'd completely forgotten what i was going to say)

also, do you like that turtle picture? he's called George, he's 70 and lives in Ras Mohammed. i met him, he's awfully nice :)

proof

i wanted proof that my darling little Noel was alive and well. so i got it, here it is:



i really hope it works. watching it has made me sad, can't wait until friday when i get back home and i'll be able to give him a hug.