Alcohol, condiments and cigarettes.

Bye Bye Blogger

2007-11-01T21:58:00.000+00:00

I know, I know.

I said I wouldn't be moving until the weekend, but the removal company had a cancellation, so it's happened a little earlier than I thought. I've more or less unpacked (the rest of the boxes are in the cupboard under the stairs!) and so my new home is ready for a party!

The champagne is on ice and there's beer in the fridge but someone else will need to bring the nibbles - I only have condiments or take away menu's!

My new address is http://www.alcoment.wordpress.com/

The party starts as soon as people get there and there's no knowing when it will end!

I hope to see you all over there!

A quick announcement

2007-10-29T20:22:00.000+00:00

I know I said that I would be back with a blog about my Saturday night at the local meat market, but too be honest I’m too tired to post properly. I’ve been up since stupid o’clock this morning to get down to London for training for work. And I’m back there again tomorrow (yes, I know. Moan, moan, whinge, whinge!).

The sofa and TV are calling to me, so that’s where I’m heading. I’ll tell you about Saturday night soon.

I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving.

Blog host sites that is.

I’m going across to Wordpress. As much as I loved Blogger when I started, I want more things to play with and Wordpress seems to offer more of what I want.

At the moment I’m only going across to Wordpress’s free host site, but it means that I can get my blog to look how I want it to.

I’m having fun playing around and working on the layout of my new home. I’ve still got a lot to do, but will let you know before I go and then we can organise a blog warming party!

I think there is some kind of redirecting thing I can set for people that come here, but I’ll have to look into it some more.

I’ll still be blogging here until it’s time to move across completely (probably the weekend), but I just wanted to let you all know what I was up to!

And it's another one!

2007-10-28T21:43:00.000+00:00

It really does seem to be Meme season at the moment!

This will only be my third one, but I was tagged for the last two in a very short space of time. These aren’t my favourite things, but I will join in.

This time I’ve been tagged for the ‘List of 7’ by Emmy from Inside Emmy’s Mind.

The idea is that each person lists 7 random facts about themselves and then tags 7 other unsuspecting people.

So, here goes:

I am obsessed with chewing gum. I can easily get through a box of 25 pieces in a day and get quite panicky if I run out.

I have a secret love of trashy magazines, full of nothing but celebrity gossip.

I can roll my tongue into a tube and raise one eyebrow, but would love to be able to wiggle my ears.

I have a habit of buying DVD’s and then never getting round to watching them. At the last count I have about 8 that I’ve had for months but have never watched.

I have a thing about being early for appointments and leave my house ridiculously early to make sure I get there in time.

I’ve only had a passport for about 2 years and the first place I went to was New York.

I talk in my sleep. Apparently, people have had some really interesting conversations with me when I’ve been asleep. I can never remember them and just hope that I’ve never given away any of my secrets!

That’s it!

Now, this is where I’m supposed to tag 7 other people.

No, stop trying to hide behind the screen, I can still see you!

I’m not going to tag anyone this time. Nearly every blogger I come across at the moment seems inundated with Meme’s, even if it’s not something they normally do. If you want to play then feel free to consider yourself tagged.

I’ll be back in the next couple of days with a blog about my Saturday night out and the perils of ending up at the local meat market!

Meme take two!

2007-10-25T18:32:00.000+01:00

So, let’s give this meme thing another try. I’m not overly fond of them, but seeing as I’ve only ever done one before, I better give them a chance!

I’ve been tagged for the ‘3 things you won’t let go’ meme by Stealth over at No Middle Ground Here

I’m supposed to talk to you about three things that I won’t let go of and, I guess, tell you why they’re important to me. I think I’m also supposed to put photo’s up too, I’ve done my best, but I’ve only really been able to do it for one thing – sorry!

So, here goes!

Certain music from when I was a teenager.

I was a teenager in the 90’s. Like most people, certain songs take me straight back to that time. I lost a lot of my music collection when I moved a few years ago, but am slowly replacing those that I sorely miss.

Blur, Pulp and Oasis featured heavily. At the time, you were supposed to be either a Blur or Oasis fan; I was genuinely both, much to the dismay of certain friends of mine. Nirvana was also played all the time. Also, specific tracks are linked to certain years. Take 1996. I was 16 and hearing Born Slippy by Underworld takes me back to the best summer of my life and The Prodigy’s Firestarter to the surrealist night I’ve known (I’ll tell you about them both one day!).

Both of these and many of the others are on my Ipod or in my CD collection. Now I’ve got them back, they’re not going anywhere!

This painting.

Please excuse the quality of the photo. I had to take it with my phone as I still haven’t figured out how to use my digital camera, despite having it for a couple of years!

My aunt painted this for me when I was born. As you probably can’t read what she has written, it says

“Wishes that are sincerely meant usually come true, may you have happy days, good health, good friends, all your life through”

It used to hang in my bedroom throughout my childhood and has moved with me wherever I’ve lived. It currently hangs in my bathroom, brightening up a very small space!

My aunt was in and out of my life when I was a kid, but I’ve always kept it. Now, my aunt is one of the main people in my life and she likes the fact that I’ve always kept the painting.

My memory box

At least I think that’s what they’re called, that’s what we used to call them when I was younger. I’d take a photo, but it’s really nothing to look at, just a plain box.

I guess it’s full of things that I don’t want to let go. It’s got stuff like old letters from friends, cards that mean something, cinema stubs and so on in there. Each thing means something, or reminds me of something I did or someone I know (or knew!).

Again, this is something that has moved around with me. I’m always slightly surprised that I’ve got one of these, I’m not overly sentimental and don’t tend to keep hold of things, nor do I feel the need to take millions of photo’s. I guess I figure that they’re just ‘things’, or props or something, but every now and again, I get an urge to put something in my box to have a look at again further down the line. God, I’m a soppy cow sometimes!

So there you go, there’s my three things. Now I’m supposed to tag some other people. I choose Fish, Heather and Emmy.

Sorry guys! If you don’t want to play, then no problem. Also, if anyone else sees this and wants to have a go, then feel free to grab it and join in.

Oh, and I was also tagged for the desktop meme by Rosie over at Nobody asked me, but unfortunately my laptop won’t play ball. Sorry Rosie!

About Bl**dy Time Too!!

2007-10-24T20:41:00.000+01:00

Hello, Good evening and Welcome.

Firstly, may I take this opportunity to apologise for my tardiness. I must confess that I have received one or two nudging emails asking me when I was going to post a bloggy thing as my audience was waiting. I suppose I could blame it on stage fright, but actually I reckon I must be one of the busiest students in England. In fact, quite possibly, the world.

The first time I went to university I opted for a 'student friendly' course - water-based leisure management. This translates as learning to windsurf and sail for two years on a part time basis and spend the rest of the time in the Student bar. Cracking. Then a year or so ago I had a bright idea and decided to relive my uni days for a second time. Bird, sorry - other half, is already a qualified nutty nurse and seeing as I wrote most of her essays I thought I'd have a crack at it as well. How hard can it possibly be? Regurgitate all the essays and fly through the practice placements and Robert's your father's brother - qualified. Then the reality of being a mature student on a course with a new curriculum. New essays, different modules, full time course, dismal bursary, mortgage to pay, loads of bills so working almost equivalent of a full time job on top of a full time course.

Now, I'm not one to whinge - honest, but this is hard work. I am now realising that there really aren't enough hours in the day. Yes - I know, women have known this for ages.

Anyway, now that I have made my excuses, I have an esay to write. However, I have noticed that a number of inaccuracies have been written about me which I believe amount to defamation of character. I shall aim to clarify and put the record straight on my next visit to this cyberbloggywebbynetty thing.

Sorry for all the hype. Bet you're all gutted now!!

Naked in the living room

2007-10-23T20:51:00.000+01:00

I am the only one in my group of friends who lives alone. Everyone else lives with their partner and/or kids. And I have to say that I think I’ve got the better deal!

On a pretty much daily basis I am informed by my friends about the latest issue their partner or kid (in some cases they seem to be the same person!) has created. The top complaints seem to be mess, not sharing chores, preferring work or the pub to being at home and playing video games all day (this one is committed by a 40 year old bloke, not a kid!).

I’m also told on a regular basis that I am lucky that I can do what I want, when I want, without having to check in with anyone else.

And I am.

However, I also have to endure questions about when I’m going to settle down, have I found Mr Right, do I believe in soul mates and don’t I ever get lonely.

So, for the record, the answers are:

* I have no idea, it will happen when it happens.

* No. There is someone I like but it’s just not possible at the moment.

* No.

* Yes of course, but so does everybody!

For me, the benefits of being single and living alone far outweigh the disadvantages. I have no one else to answer to, can eat what I like, when I like, there’s no queue for the bathroom and no arguments about whether the toilet seat should be up or down. There are no remote control issues, moans about me being on the laptop for hours, or the fact that that’s the third time in a week I haven’t got in until 3am! I can walk around naked anytime I want (and frequently do!), I can read or watch TV in bed in the middle of the night and use all the hot water!

And no one can complain about it!

Yes, of course there are disadvantages. I can only blame mess on myself and have discovered there are no little fairies that come and clear up in the night, there’s no one else to do the washing or food shopping and I have to carry all the heavy stuff myself. But I’ve lived with friends, family and (more or less) with a partner before and also endure the daily complaints from friends; I know that these issues are there whether you live alone or not!

So, for the time being, I’m going to stand by my view that I have the better the deal. I will listen to my friend’s complaints, smile sweetly and go home to my sanctuary!

Just to reassure myself it could be worse!

2007-10-21T20:37:00.000+01:00

Ok, so I don’t blog for a week and then make two posts in one day, there’s nothing like inconsistency!

I’m still vaguely obsessed with Christmas and organising the work Christmas party and remembered an email I had received from Student Nutty Nurse some time last year.

I obviously haven’t saved it, but finally tracked it down on Boreme.com. You’ve got to love the internet!

Anyway, urban myth or not, I’m so glad that I don’t have to organise a Christmas party on a large scale, else I think I’d have the same reaction as this woman!

Enjoy.

It's still that time of year!

2007-10-21T16:35:00.000+01:00

Obviously with trying to organise the work Christmas party, Christmas has been on my mind

However, I don’t seem to be the only one.

The shops have been trying to convince us it’s Christmas since about August and now nearly every shop has its Christmas goodies out and a nice shiny catalogue by the door.

I always get slightly confused by the shop’s decisions on Christmas gifts. I don’t really understand why they seem to think that every woman wants nothing more than a box set of gaudily packaged toiletries that they wouldn’t use at any other time of the year, or every bloke wants a body spray and shower gel set or a leather wallet and keyring! I wouldn’t buy these for friends on their birthdays, so why would I buy them at Christmas.

My usual routine for Christmas shopping is to wait for the pay day before Christmas and then go round the shops with a prepared list and very strict time limit. If I do it any other way, it becomes unmanageable and rarely ends well.

I may have to try a different tact this year, as the list of people I need to buy for appears to have grown at a very unhealthy rate since last Christmas and I’m not sure I can face the shops. I’m leaning much more towards the joys of internet shopping. Me, my credit card and a very large drink certainly seems much more enticing than me, cash and scary strangers with a very disturbing determination to get the last Terry’s Chocolate Orange on the shelf!

Some people seem to be much more organised.

Scarily so.

Best Friend is one of these. I know for a fact that a lot of her shopping has been completed and there is a plan in place for the rest! Best Friend adores Christmas and all the preparation for it. She buys the most fabulous presents (even her work Secret Santa ones hit the spot each time!) and revels in the whole thing. She works to a time scale and knows when she will write and send her cards (I randomly send them when I can be bothered and then inevitably have to send out more when I receive one from people I have forgotten!). She also knows when she needs to order things from the butcher and already knows what she’s going to cook on Christmas Day. I’m more than happy about this as I will be spending the day with her and her family and she also tells me what to buy for our mutual friends – thank you, that saves me another head ache!

Don’t get me wrong, I do like Christmas, though I prefer the actual lead up to it rather than the day itself.

I can get quite sentimental and, if I’m in a good mood, even smile when I hear the brass bands playing carols. I like the decorations, the parties and how people seem willing to talk to people they usually wouldn’t. However, I do long for the ease of Christmas when I was a kid, when all you had to do was send cards to your classmates, buy something for your parents and Santa did the rest!!

It's that time of year again!

2007-10-15T21:59:00.000+01:00

As it is October, it is obviously time to start thinking about Christmas.

At least that’s what the shops are trying to make us do.

I have an issue with the shops and the way they try to control the seasons, but that’s for another blog.

The reason why I know it is October and October equals Christmas, is that preparations have begun for the Work Christmas Party!

Unfortunately, this is my task every year and I have to begin now to try and accommodate the whole list of do’s/don’ts/needs/wants/random and strange requests into one night. And it takes a hell of a lot of research. Luckily this year I do have some help.

You really wouldn’t have thought it would be that complicated to arrange one night out (let me repeat that; ONE night out) for 10 people.

But it is.

So far, the only consensus is that it should be a meal.

However, in that, I have to try and find somewhere that can accommodate the following requests (or instructions, depending on your point of view!):

* Not a chain.
* Not too noisy or busy, but not deathly quiet either.
* Doesn’t serve a traditional Christmas Dinner, but does serve traditional English food (Bloody fussy eaters!).
* Not too expensive, but not cheap either (Damn, I was aiming for MacDonald’s, but wait, then what would the vegetarians do?!).
* Plays music but not “Stupid Christmas Carols”, “Modern stuff” or “Lift Music”.
* Has a decent range of cocktails (That’s my request – I’m definitely going to need the aid of alcohol by the time the night actually arrives!).
* Only serves food on blue plates, preferably square with a gold trim, and drinks in glasses hand etched by fairies wearing dresses made from flowers (Ok, I made that bit up, but it would probably be easier to try and find that, than satisfy everyone else!).

I am seriously considering setting everyone up with the internet and a webcam. That way, we can all sit at home, listen to what music we want and eat what we like, still say we’ve had a party and there won’t be the risk of me being convicted for GBH!

Any ideas anyone?

The musical air cooler

2007-10-13T14:32:00.000+01:00

I think I’ve told you before that the basis of mine and Student Nutty Nurse’s friendship is arguing and playing practical jokes on each other.

Even though we have not worked together for several months now, he is still managing to play tricks on me at work.

The office where I work is in a converted garage. As you can imagine, it’s cramped and, in summer, it’s hot. We have an air cooler to help us not completely melt in summer, but obviously it’s not necessary in winter and it lives under one of the corner desks.

A couple of days ago, I was in the office with a client and a colleague, when all of a sudden we heard ‘Happy Birthday’ playing, swiftly followed by Highland music! After some investigation, we could only narrow it down to the air cooler.

By this stage, I was getting quite frustrated and decided that there was only one course of action. Watched by a very bemused client and an equally bemused colleague, I fetched a screwdriver and dismantled it. It would not shut up.

Sitting on the floor, surrounded by bits of the air cooler, I began to think I’d made a bit of a mistake. Especially when my colleague lent over, took the batteries out and silence reigned.

Ah.

I tried to figure out what had happened. Why had it been playing music? It had never happened before; I didn’t even know that it could.

There only seemed to be one possible solution.

I phoned Student Nutty Nurse.

“You know the air cooler in the office?”

“Yes!”

“Does it play music?”

“Yes!”

“Did you set some kind of timer on it to make it play?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“I wanted to surprise you for your Birthday”

“My Birthday’s not until March. You know that. When did you set it?”

“About ten months ago. I wondered why no-one had phoned me about it!”

So even though we no longer work together, he is still managing to get me into trouble. I managed to repair the air cooler, but I’m not sure it will ever work in the same way again.

However, I have found the instruction book and now I know how to set the timer. I can feel some Christmas music coming on!

Leave the chocolate alone!

2007-10-09T19:33:00.000+01:00

I see that the manufacturers have been at it again. They’ve been messing about with the chocolate.

I bought some Galaxy chocolate today, feeling in the need of a reward (which was a bit unnecessary as just by being awake I feel that I deserve some chocolate!). I noticed that on the wrapper was the announcement that they had improved the recipe and it had a new shape.

Oh, shit. I hate it when they do this.

Luckily, it’s ok this time. It tastes the same and they haven’t done too much. They’ve just changed the shape to a slightly wavy one. It’s quite pretty really.

But it got me thinking about how often the manufacturers see fit to go and mess about with the things we know and love, even if it’s just the name. There never seems to be a good reason to do this, I’m sure it’s just to confuse us and make us think that they’ve released a new product.

I mean, take Snickers. They always used to be called Marathon. Now, that name made sense. What sort of name is Snickers?! Marathon always implied that the chocolately, peanutty goodness would help you keep going. But Snickers? What does that mean?

And Starburst. They were always Opal Fruits (well, they still are in my head – just because they change the name, doesn’t mean that I have to agree with it!). Everything else is the same, they just changed the name. Is there a point to it that I’m missing?

The other thing that annoys me is when they just take products out of action. Does anyone remember the Peanut Butter Lions? They were great and saw me through many hangovers in college. Now they’ve disappeared and I can’t find them anywhere!

I don’t mind them adding new things though! Just stop messing about with the ones I like.

A lost art?

2007-10-07T19:19:00.000+01:00

I was reading the back of my conditioner bottle in the shower this morning (it’s amazing what you do to amuse yourself whilst you’re waiting for a deep conditioning treatment to work!) and noticed what was written under the ‘Contact us’ bit.

The bottle encouraged people to “Give us a ring, send us an email, or why not go mad and pick up a pen – and combat the global disappearance of handwriting”.

It got me thinking, I rarely write letters anymore and I’m not sure I know anyone else who writes them either. Sure, I write quite a few at work, but they don’t really count, plus, they’re typed. In fact, I only write two personal letters a year, both at Christmas, to two family friends. But when I was younger, letters and notes were a common thing.

When I was kid, every Birthday and Christmas I would have to write ‘Thank you’ letters to anyone who had given me a present. As much as I knew I had to do them, I hated it. I mean, when you’re a kid, what else do you say when you’ve got as far as “Dear Great Aunt Mable. Thank you for my book token. I have put it towards a book.”? I would sit there for ages, trying to turn 20 words into a letter; I would often end up drawing a little picture, just to fill up space.

When I was a teenager, it was all about passing notes in school (when I was there, I played truant a lot!). The notes were far more important than whatever class we were in, but mainly consisted of “Jamie is soooo fit”, “Are you coming for a fag at break?” and “Lucy snogged Darren on Friday!”. Exciting stuff!

It just doesn’t cross my mind to write a letter. Now, if I want to contact someone and don’t want to phone, then I will send them an email. It’s quicker than writing, but I guess it’s kind of sad that no one writes letters anymore.

Please excuse me for a moment!

2007-10-05T23:36:00.000+01:00

I'm a bored blogger!

I'm playing around with my blog (I'm going all girly!) as I appear to have blog block. However, I seem to have lost all the little bits that are usually in my side bar! Please bear with me whilst I carry on playing and try to get everything back to where it should be.

Normal service will resume shortly, I just didn't want you thinking you'd come to the wrong place!

Hunting in packs

2007-10-03T21:10:00.000+01:00

I’ve heard several blokes say that one of the scariest things to see on a night out is a group made up purely by women. I have to say that a group of blokes is just as off putting.

When I was in London for the day with Mr Flirt, we ended up sitting outside a pub in Camden. It was a pleasant evening, only marred when a group of lads took up residence at the next table.

They were a typical group of lads, out on the piss and on the pull. They were quite loud, having already had plenty to drink and clearly felt, that as they were obviously undisputed Sex Gods, they were in a position to comment on every poor female that happened to walk past.

We sat and listened to their conversation for a while, not that we had much choice. After enduring a few minutes of tales about “shagging some bird” and some stuff about football that I didn’t understand at all, I turned to Mr Flirt and commented that this group of fine male specimens was an example as to why some women prefer to be single.

He just smiled.

A few minutes later, a group of girls (I can really only describe them as girls) came spilling out of the pub. By this stage, the only seats left outside were on mine and Mr Flirt’s table. They asked if they could share with us and we agreed.

We were then subjected to a mixture of screams and squeals over one of the girls’ new top, the sad news that the bloke one of them had met last week hadn’t called and the problems someone’s sister was having with her new partner. After a while, Mr Flirt turned round and informed me that this was an example as to why some men prefer to stay single.

Touche!

Is there a sign on my forehead?

2007-10-01T18:20:00.000+01:00

Is there something about me?

Do I have some kind of sign on my forehead that I can’t see?

Why do I always attract the loony?

I can be anywhere and the random mad person will find me. It doesn’t matter where; on the bus, in the supermarket, in the doctor’s waiting room, it makes no difference; they will track me down and start talking.

Even when I’m walking to work I’m not safe. In the mornings there is a lady who walks through the city centre at the same time I do. On a regular basis she comes up, tells me a joke (it’s always something about dicks, socks and the cold – I’m sorry I can’t be clearer, but it just doesn’t make sense!) and then wanders off, apparently happy with our interaction.

When I am training for work I will attract the one person on the course desperate to talk about their ‘issues’ and they will spend the entire day trailing around after me and then want to walk back to the train station too. They have also been known to ask me if I want to go for a drink afterwards as I have “been so helpful and understanding”.

No, I don’t.

If we did that, then there is a distinct possibility that my responses will change from the professional ones ingrained into me, to the ones that are actually in my head. I’m really not convinced you want to be told that either; 1) you’re clearly insane or 2) need to stop acting like a moaning idiot and get off your arse and do something about it!

I know I work in mental health and should understand, but it’s no different from a doctor getting asked to diagnose people at parties or a taxi driver being a chauffeur for his kids. You just don’t want to do it. A lot of my friends also work in mental health and say the same thing. It appears that some people do have a sign saying ‘If you are mad/desperate/love to talk about yourself then feel free to come and talk non-stop to me for as long as you want’ stuck on their forehead.

The problem is, that unless I can actually avoid being engaged in conversation from the start, I don’t have it in me to stop them. I nod, smile and make appropriate noises when I’m really inventing elaborate escape plans or writing my shopping list in my head.

I can successfully manage to avoid the charity and survey clipboard people in the street, so maybe I need to employ the same tactics with the random mad people. In the meantime, maybe I should pay attention to what they say and see if there’s any blog fodder in there!

Delete, delete, delete!

2007-09-30T14:47:00.000+01:00

I think I’ve told you before that I love technology and all that it can do, but that I am aware of the down side to it as well. One of the main downsides is that unless you remember to delete things you don’t want people to find, there is a good chance that someone will discover it!

Best Friend has a new mobile phone. It was given to her by another friend, who had just upgraded to a shiny new one.

The friend who gave it to her is quiet and has a certain ‘good girl’ image. She’s not. And we now have proof.

It is important to remember that if you give a friend your old mobile, removing the sim card is not enough. You need to check what has been saved on the phone itself.

And delete anything before you hand it over.

Best Friend was playing with her new toy, figuring out how it worked, when I suddenly heard a gasp and then hysterical laughter.

She handed the phone to me.

There was a message from Quiet Friend’s boyfriend. It was a picture of him in a state of…um, excitement and the (completely unnecessary) information that he was horny and waiting for her.

Best Friend doesn’t feel that she’s going to be able to look at her (or him!) in the eye with a straight face for quite a while! I think she has some excellent blackmail fodder…

Blogging Against Abuse - Rape, it can happen to anyone.

2007-09-27T17:01:00.000+01:00

Today is the day that (hopefully) hundreds of bloggers will unite to blog against abuse. This is my post for Blogcatalog’s Blogging Against Abuse campaign.

It’s taken me a long time to decide what to write about, but in the end I decided to talk about something that has affected me personally. I decided to write about rape.

Rape has nothing to do with sex but is all about power.

When many people think about rape, they think about a woman (or man) being attacked by a stranger. However, the majority of women are raped by someone they know, whether that is a family member, friend or partner.

When I was 17 I was raped by an ex-boyfriend. Though we had split up, we still occasionally slept together; we just didn’t work in a relationship. On the night in question, he decided that ‘No’ didn’t apply to him and that he had the right to do what he wanted anyway. He couldn’t believe that I meant it when I said no or that he was doing anything wrong by continuing.

I never reported it to the police and it took me several months to even tell a friend. I didn’t feel that I would be believed. The lifestyle I led at the time would have been held against me. Unfortunately, many women do not report they have been raped and, for those that have the courage to do so, there is no guarantee that it will even reach court. In fact, research has shown that women are more likely to report domestic violence than they are rape. For many women, the fear of not being believed, or the fear of being judged, stops them. We’ve all heard the comments of “She was asking for it, look at what she was wearing” or “She accepted drinks from him, what did she expect?”.

Over time, I began to tell a few friends. I was lucky; the majority were very supportive and believed me immediately. Only two people said it was my fault, one said that I had no right to call it rape as I had been sleeping with him anyway, and the other said I had no right to deny him sex as it was ‘expected’. Bullshit. I was also lucky that only one person didn’t believe me at all, saying that I was trying to get back at him for breaking up the relationship. Though her perception was not right, I can sort of understand why she needed to view it like that. My rapist was her brother’s best friend, he was in her house a lot and I think she was scared.

I’m not saying that I knew it was not my fault straight away. I spent months feeling that it was my fault; that I should never have put myself in that situation or that I should have never said no in the first place. At first, I didn’t even know that it was still classed as rape if it was done by someone you knew. It was only through talking to friends, reading and, eventually, getting into counselling, that I saw it for what it was. All I knew at the beginning was that I hadn’t wanted it to happen.

Rape is always rape. If one party has said no, then it is not consensual. That is rape. It does not matter what relationship you have with someone, if they force themselves on you that is wrong. I have a friend who was systematically raped by her husband for many years. She eventually worked up the courage to leave him, though still does not feel able to go to the police. Mainly, because he was her husband and she does not feel that people will consider it to be rape. It was.

I have not written this as a ‘poor me’ exercise. I am trying to show that anyone can be raped, by anyone. Rape is what it is and it is never right or the victim’s fault.

If you have been raped and need some support or information, there are lots of places out there that can help. Just speak to someone, if you can’t talk to a friend then try one of the help lines below.

Rape Crisis
Rapeline

What not to tell your parents

2007-09-25T21:12:00.000+01:00

Parents and hangovers don’t mix. Especially if you already have a terrible habit of opening your mouth before engaging your brain.

I’m afraid I have traumatised my parents and I’m not entirely sure they will recover from the shock.

My parents visited me on Sunday and took me out to lunch. I’m sure you’re all thinking that sounds lovely and a nice way to spend a Sunday. And it would have been, if I hadn’t have been about to be awarded the prize for the worlds biggest hangover.

Saturday night had been spent at Best Friend’s house, celebrating another friend’s engagement. True to form, we consumed a lot of alcohol and I finally got home at stupid o’clock in the morning.

When my parents arrived, I attempted to make conversation, but was more than happy to just nod and smile whilst I was brought up to date on the village’s latest news and the developments with various people’s ailments (I don’t know these people, but apparently it is essential that I know all about their lives!).

By this stage, we were at the restaurant and I was trying to prepare my stomach for the fact that it was about to encounter solid food and convince it that it would be fine with this. My parents were asking me about what I had been up to, commenting that I seemed to be very busy. I explained that I was, but that it was ok and I had some more projects in the pipeline. As all good parents should do, they expressed an interest and asked what I was planning.

This is when it happened. I still don’t know why I said it. I can only think that my brain had gone back to sleep and had left my body to try and cope with the situation alone.

I informed my parents that I was going into business with Best Friend’s Bloke as a porn baron.

Well, more porn administrator really.

The world seemed to stop for a few moments and then reality came rushing in. All I could hear was the woosh as the entire restaurant whipped their heads round to stare at us.

Dad went an odd shade of purple, coughed slightly and then started eating as quickly as he could. I think he thought that if he carried on eating, time would reverse itself and this would never have happened.

Mum sat there with a fixed, slightly manic, smile on her face. As she reached for her drink and downed it in one, my brain made a very brief appearance, realised what was happening and fled.

The more I tried to explain, the bigger hole I dug myself. Best Friend’s Bloke works as a vision mixer on the local TV station’s porn channel. A lot of the women have asked him to develop their websites and I’ve said I’ll help him.

Of course, the more I attempted to reassure my parents, the worse I made it. Until it sounded like Best Friend’s Bloke ran a porn empire and I was his newest recruit, about to give up the day job and become Crystal Chandelier!

I gradually trailed off and we sat in silence for about a year. The silence was so great, that I could hear the man on the other side of the restaurant picking bits of food out of his teeth.

The only thing I could think to say was “So, Mum, how’s Fred and his hernia”.

Apparently Fred’s fine.

Take one chef, add a dash of TV...

2007-09-23T21:14:00.000+01:00

There are so many cookery shows on TV. Ready, Steady Cook, Saturday Kitchen, Master Chef, you can’t seem to change channels without coming across one.

As much as I don’t cook (unless you can call heating things in the microwave cooking), I have occasionally watched these shows and I’ve noticed a couple of things that irritate me.

Firstly, one of the themes that seems to come up a lot is the ‘let’s use your store cupboard basics’. I never have these things in my cupboard. In fact, I only know two people who have things such as risotto rice, garlic salt and different types of mushrooms in there. Now, if they could show me what to do with a tin of beans, some instant coffee and a bit of slightly mouldy cheddar then they may be on to something!

And the chefs never wash their hands! All they seem to do is give them a quick rinse under the tap and then carry on. So what are they saying? Is E-coli a new type of seasoning now?

Oh, and I want to know where to get one of those magic ovens. For those that like to cook, imagine how much time could be saved. These are very special ovens where you can put raw food in, open it again two minutes later and, hey presto, your food is ready and piping hot!

Then we come to the final act of tasting the delights that TV Chef has just produced. Apparently, TV Chefs never make anything that doesn’t taste divine, delicious or like little angels waltzing across your tongue (Yes I did make that last bit up, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it one day!). I would love to hear someone say it tasted bloody awful, rather than practically have an orgasm over a plate of pasta with a side of listeria.

Unfortunately, all that generally happens when I watch these programmes is that I sit there wishing my pizza would be delivered faster…

Avoid eye contact

2007-09-21T20:30:00.000+01:00

I have spent a lot of this week on a train, travelling to and from London (hence the lack of blogs). As much as I like travelling by train, it never fails to amaze me the lengths people go to so they don’t have to share their seat with anyone.

Over the years, I have noticed there is an unwritten code of practise for train travel. I don’t agree with it, but it’s there. It basically boils down to the fundamental rule of; unless there is some form of emergency, you must NOT acknowledge your fellow passengers. This can be quite a complicated process and everyone seems to have their own tactics, but there appears to be common techniques used by the majority.

You sit on the seat next to the window, with your bag on the aisle seat, then, either look like you’re reading, put your i-pod on or talk into your mobile. Or all three at once. It doesn’t matter if you are actually doing any of these things, as long as it looks like you are, then you may fool the people that get on at the station after you. One of the most important parts of this process seems to be that you must not make eye contact with people trying to get a seat. If you do, then the good old British sense of duty may kick in and you will end up moving your bag and having to actually sit next to someone for the duration of your journey.

If you find yourself on a commuter train, you will have no choice but to sit next to someone. You will find yourself squashed up against a random person, whilst you all desperately try to avoid the reality that someone you don’t know is about to sit on your lap. However, the tubes are worse in rush hour. There, you are very likely to find yourself in the position of having your nose in someone’s armpit whilst someone else uses your back as a convenient place to lean.

One of the most popular ways to deal with this seems to be to go to sleep. And snore. And dribble. On your neighbour’s shoulder preferably. Then, when you reach your station, you must suddenly leap up and trip over your fellow passenger’s feet as you try and get off the train before the doors close.

Your other alternatives to try and convince yourself you are in fact the only person on the train (or at least irritate the others enough so they might move) are; chat on your mobile, telling whoever’s on the other end that you are on the train (Really? Bloody hell, my mistake, I thought we were on some kind of magic carpet!). Put your bag on the overhead rack and then stand up every five minutes to get something out of it. If you can drop something on your fellow passenger’s head whilst doing this, then that is a bonus. When you have to sit in one of the blocks of seats that face each other, ensure that you place your legs in a way so that no one else can put their legs in a natural position. This way, when you stand up, you will be the only person not to fall over due to the complete lack of blood flow to the lower limbs for the last hour.

Trains are supposed to be a convenient way to travel around the country. Sure, as long as there’s not the wrong type of leaf/snow/rain/cow on the line, then they can be great. However, it involves such a complicated set of rules, that I feel that everyone should be made to take a test before travelling to avoid mistakes!

Public dancing solution!

2007-09-19T20:28:00.000+01:00

Some of you are aware that my sense of rhythm is sorely lacking. I have made some progress recently thanks to dancing in Best Friend’s kitchen and embarrassing small children, but there is still vast room for improvement (though I did manage a Burlesque-like shimmy type thing the other day!).

I will not dance in public, unless I am under the influence of a serious amount of alcohol, and even then it’s pushing it. But I think I may have found a solution!

I have recently heard about these things called Headphone disco's. It seems that when you enter the venue, you are immediately issued with wireless headphones. Two different DJ’s play at the same time and you can choose which one you listen to. There is no music pumped into the club, it only comes through the headphones. So if you take them off, all you will see are people dancing to…nothing.

I guess it looks a little odd at first, a bit like a Mime’s disco, but imagine the potential. No one would be able to tell if you were a bad dancer as they would just think you were dancing to different music to them. However, I guess it could also make a good dancer look bad, but I don’t really care about that!

I need to find somewhere where they are using these. Not only could I dance in public without embarrassing myself or anyone who knows me, I would willingly pay good money to see those that think they can dance look as silly as me!

Oh! Thank you!

2007-09-19T20:07:00.000+01:00

The wonderful Fish has given this to me!

Fish, thank you so much. It’s very much appreciated. I’m getting all embarrassed now so I’ll stop there!

It's not a secret anymore!

2007-09-17T10:22:00.000+01:00

So how many people know you blog? And what’s been their reaction when they’ve found out?

When I started blogging, I never intended telling anyone what I was doing. But it didn’t quite work out like that. It started off with just a couple of close friends knowing and spread from there.

Generally the thing I hear most is “Blogging? What’s that?” and when I try to explain, it turns into a glazed look and “Oh, you’re writing your diary”. Umm, no. But I’ve more or less given up trying to explain and am considering having a series of cards printed so I can just hand them out and save my breath!

One friend, who had a vague idea of what blogging was, informed me that she had always felt that blogs were only “ego trips for inconsistent thinkers”. She now reads my blog, but has yet to tell me whether her opinion has changed!

Another common reaction from people who have at least heard about blogs, is the question “Am I in it?” How do you answer that? If you say yes, then there is a Spanish inquisition about what you’ve written. If you say no, then you’re suddenly faced with a hurt expression and the unspoken question of “Don’t you think I’m interesting enough?”

The other reaction I’ve had was the beautiful back-handed compliment of “I was really surprised at the quality of the writing”. Thanks. I think. But we sorted that one out and I now know what he meant!

And that’s the other thing. When I’m out with friends that know I blog, I’m always being asked “You’re going to blog about this, aren’t you?” The short answer is yes. If it makes me laugh or annoys me, then it’s likely to end up here at some point. Very little is sacred.

So what started out as my own little secret is becoming common knowledge. Yes, there are people that I would still prefer not to know about it, as I don’t think their reaction would be a favourable one. But the internet is a small place and people are renowned for not being able to keep quiet. There are people that won’t be overly happy about some of the things I’ve written about, especially about the names I have given them and I know I will have to deal with that at some point. My plan when that happens is just to brazen it out and ask if they’re offended because they recognise some truth in what I’ve said!

The things they say

2007-09-16T18:35:00.000+01:00

What did you used to believe as a kid? I’m not talking about Father Christmas, The Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, but the seemingly random things that you used to believe.

I came across this website the other day. It’s a place where you can submit all those things that you used to believe; either the things your parents told you or the things that made perfect sense in your head but no one else seemed to get. You can now find out you were not alone!

My Mum and Dad were just like any other parents in that they took great pleasure in telling me things, just to be entertained by my reaction. It seems to be a perk of the job which can provide many hours (or sometimes months!) of entertainment.

There seem to be standard things that ALL parents tell their kids; crusts make your hair curly, carrots help you see in the dark, you’ll stay that way if the wind changes and if you swallow chewing gum it will take 7 years for it to digest. The ones they were probably told as a kid too.

Then there are the ones that parents make up themselves. My parents had two, both of which I believed for quite a while.

In the town where I lived as a kid, there was a huge statue of Issac Newton which stood outside the town hall. My parents used to tell me that at night he would get down of his stand and roam about the town. I was never clear about what he was doing on his nightly trips, but it all sounded very realistic to me and I used to lay awake at night, waiting for him to come down our street. Part of me would be wishing that he would come, so I could see for myself what he was doing. The other part was terrified; convinced he was some kind of relation to the more scary giants in the BFG!

I was quite a gullible kid and also believed them when they told me that the cat’s eyes in the middle of the road were actually cat’s eyes! The story was that this was how the cats made their living and if I looked very carefully at dusk, I would see all the cats walking down the road to their station, where they would then lay in bed for the night, just looking into the road, to help drivers stay on the right side of the road. I never saw the cats.

I don’t believe either of those things now. My only concern is that I can’t find anyone else on the site who believed anything even remotely similar…

Hard hats are optional

2007-09-15T15:12:00.000+01:00

I quite like puzzles and board games, but the problem is I’m really quite competitive.

At one point I became mildly obsessed with Sudoku and did the one in my newspaper everyday. When Student Nutty Nurse and I used to work together, we would photocopy the puzzle and then race each other to see could complete it the fastest. It was pretty much 50/50, though he will still maintain that he won more.

I also have a soft spot for Scrabble. Best Friend also likes a game, but will now only play with me if she can wear protective clothing, or at least some kind of hard hat. We used to play on a fairly regular basis but things turned ugly one day.

She disputed one of my words and I didn’t react well.

I had put down Qi and was quite pleased with myself, having managed to get it on a triple word score! (Before anyone disputes it, it is in the official Scrabble word book – I don’t want a repeat of the incident!)

Our argument became more and more heated and I’m afraid to say that it ended with me pushing the board off the table and onto the floor (yes, I am embarrassed, but I can be a stroppy cow when I want to be!).

Best Friend maintains to this day that I actually threw the board (hence the hard hat), but I’m honestly not that bad. However, it certainly wasn’t my finest hour!

I now try to stick to things like crosswords. I think it’s much safer this way.