Thiefree.net (formerly Almost Daily Exploits)

Niceness

2012-02-01T01:13:00.000Z

My romantic entanglements have, for the most part, ended before the other party became aware of their existence. It always goes the same way: inevitably, at some point, whatever poor guy I've been... not pursuing, as such, more... ogling with wilful intent, will have the following conversation with me.

Him: Let me tell you about this amazing new girl I met!

Me: Shoot (me).

Him: She's so nice, she's such a free spirit, she has awesome hair and she hovers three inches above the ground wherever she walks! All that is best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes, blah blah fuckitty blah (I'm paraphrasing here.)

This usually results in the following dichotomy.

Externally:

Internally:

This was my life in high school, and this has been my life for the year and a half since breaking up with my ex. For the past few months, I've again been staring at some oblivious dude, attempting to work out whether he was even single. Over Christmas, the matter was brought to a satisfactory conclusion when it was revealed that not only was he unattached, but that the lucky girl he'd had his eyes on was, in fact, me.

In the words of President Obama, "I got the sucker."

That was nice.
It's still nice.

Down the rabbit hole again

2012-01-25T04:20:00.001Z

If you have been reading my blog for a long time, you might remember that I was obsessed with an alternate reality game called "The LOST Experience." Now, despite being left on a cripplingly cruel cliffhanger (RACHEL BLAKE, if you're out there, get in touch), it was one of the most exciting internetty things I was ever a part of.

Why mention it now? Well, I recently started watching Chuck. I've started watching from the beginning, and in the second episode, while spouting countless military secrets, Chuck mentions that Oceanic flight 815 - the same airline and flight number that crashed in Lost - was shot down! And that little part of my brain that catalogued and cross-referenced every slight hint at the truth flared into life again.

I felt the craving for an ARG. So I had a quick look around, and, what do you know? A new series called Alcatraz has put out a rabbit hole and a twitter account for the inquisitive. I won't link to the twitter account. You'll find it if you go looking.

Wheee! *clicks heels*

Forgotten photos

2012-01-17T19:27:00.001Z

I took these in October and forgot all about them until yesterday. After some amateur post-processing, I'm pretty happy with a few of them! The whole set is here, but I've posted my favourites below. I'd love to know what you think!

Two-oh-one-two

2012-01-02T03:54:00.000Z

There is a plastic cup in my room. It is on the windowsill, catching drips. What these drips are doing in my room is anybody's guess; although the letting agency, before pawning our house off on another agency, got as far as deciding that it might be the guttering.

Yes, well done. It might.

I suppose it's damp, then, that's turning my wallpaper a mottled pattern of bleached and black in that corner, despite the best efforts of a dehumidifier my housemate's relatives have kindly lent us.

It makes me feel a rush of hopelessness whenever I pull soomething from my wardrobe and smell, or see, that it is going moldy. I can't afford to replace anything. Or pay my rent, actually, let alone cover bills and food. It's a miracle that I'm limping along as I am, despite sort of having two jobs (I have had no shifts at the first job in two months, and the second is unpaid(ish) for now).

My new year's eve was uneventful. I've been nocturnal and listless for a couple of weeks, and that meant I had no resolve to fight my unfortunate tendency to hide from parties. If I'm invited to one, I'll generally go, but if I'm invited to five on the same night, you can bet good money I'll be at home, in my room, by myself.
As was in fact the case.
It got bad.
I went on omegle.

All of this, basically, is my attempt at complete and brutal honesty. Some of you seem to be labouring under the misapprehension that I'm interesting, or even "awesome." Well I'm not. But you know what? I have been. And I can be. And, goddamnit, I will be. One way or another, I'll shift gears and change from someone who is surviving into someone who is thriving. I don't know if that means I'll be getting more money in (though, Lord knows, I do hope so), but at the very least I'll be living the way I want to. Trying new things, working on my meagre skills, playing to my strengths and the like.

At least I've been writing a lot of poetry in the last month. I was looking for one I could share with you, but I seem to have started dozens and not finished any, so you might have to wait. Or check out my idlescribe tumblr, that's an option too...

I was looking for blogs to recommend to you, ones that count as an inspiration, but my google reader seems to have had a panic attack and dropped all its proverbial biscuits, so I'll get back to you on that one.

Much love, y'all.

Festivities

2011-12-22T04:08:00.000Z

The buildup to Christmas is a long one. Even at the start of December, I was celebrating Not-Christmas at a friend's house. I got a full stomach and a stocking full of chocolate to remember it by, not to mention a pretty severe crush.

After that, I went home for a couple of weeks, which was as it usually is, i.e., lovely with regards to seeing my family, and fairly horrendous in terms of staying in that house. I live in hope that one day my parents will see sense and chuck out 90% of their stuff.

I've felt very guilty about presents this year. The sad fact is, this year I don't have enough money to cover rent and bills, or even food for myself, so I can't treat everyone to the nice things they deserve. But, for some reason, people care enough to give me things, because it isn't really about reciprocity, so I'm told. They love me and want me to know that, so they give me gifts.

Oh man, let me tell you, this year for the first time I got a gift from someone I've never met! Someone in America! Paul, a guy I've known for probably a couple of years now, sent me the most epic, tricked-out, bells-and-whistles sonic screwdriver set I've ever seen. It's got me thinking about designing my own Doctor look to cosplay! Most people seem to go for a female interpretation of an existing Doctor's costume, but I'd want to start from scratch. My first instinct was to see if anyone from the Doctor Who costume department is on twitter, but no such luck.

This is going to be my first Christmas with friends. I've spent one away from home before, with my ex's family, but I've never dealt with the full mixed bag of celebrating Christmas with vegans, pagans, and people who've lost loved ones / are missing their kids, etc. But we're doing it. I'm a little bit proud of us for that. If we can get through it without drama, I'll be even more so.

I'll also be spending the day with my aforementioned crush (a poor word choice, but anything more accurate would give too much away, and it's early days yet). I wouldn't mention it unless I thought it was going to be important. Unless I thought he was going to be important. We'll see, I guess.

Anyway! I've wittered on long enough. I'll let you get back to all that important hall-decking. If I don't post again beforehand, have a very merry one indeed! See you soon for the traditional New Year navel-gazing.

Merry GISHWHES, one and all!

2011-11-29T17:29:00.001Z

It's been a crazy ten days or so, running around performing nonsensical errands for GISHWHES. It's over, now; the deadline has passed, and it's time to start thinking about what we're going to do with the unusual side-effects of our quests.

What, for example, are we going to do with a golden plunger? Will I keep the monkey hat? Should we disassemble the kale chandelier, or just chuck it? Do you want some barely-used candyfloss?

We didn't even take it that far. Some dedicated team actually launched a Christmas tree aloft with only helium balloons, and made the news in a few places in the process!

GISHWHES 2011 pride

Anyway, as I've said, I'll share a few photos when we're given the all-clear.

The past few days have consisted of me being alternately grumpy and sad, interspersed with brief moments of Baileys.

Baileys makes everything better.

Please link me to something that'll cheer me up, I could really do with it.
Much love.

2011-11-23T15:13:00.001Z

"Why did nobody ever tell me blogging was this much fun?!" my housemate exclaimed, leading me to do a tiny wriggle of shame. He's recently discovered it, and is of course taking to it like a duck to water, or a bird to flying, or an excitable child to getting jam all over things.

And I feel bad about neglecting you, because I really have no excuse not to. It's been like that period after a breakup when you still want to text your ex every little thought that crosses your mind. I've still wanted to blog about things - I performed poetry, it went well! My hair is purple now! I've been to some very fun parties (and one that... was less fun)! I discovered an amazing book, and did you know we have a new office? - but there's been a veil of awkwardness not dissimilar to the stomach-lurch of "oh, we're not together any more."

I don't know why this is. I certainly haven't broken up with my blog. But I have... I have kind of been cheating on it. Tumblr, with its two-click reblogging and bitesized reaction posts, is so much less demanding. All I have to do is respond to stuff! I don't need to digest, assess and recontextualise information in an engaging and thought-provoking way. I'm not saying Tumblr can't be used for that - it certainly can! - but in my experience, one simply doesn't have to try that hard, and it's making me lazy. I'm going to make a conscious effort to come here instead, and put a bit more work into making my blog of 6 years (blimey) what it deserves to be.

This stuff would never fly in a relationship. "I swear, baby, I'll make a conscious effort to prioritise you over my mistress!"
"Oh will the fuck you?"

This week, much of my time is going into GISHWHES, an international scavenger hunt that's being arranged by Misha Collins. I am in two minds about him. He plays Castiel on Supernatural, calls his twitter follows 'minions,' and has a face that I would like to put near or around my face. And yet. I will never, ever call him Overlord, as some of his fans do. Mostly I want to usurp his crown.

Misha Collins: only human

Yes, that's basically it: I consider him a worthy opponent.
The prize for GISHWHES is that Misha takes your group of ten worldwide scavenger hunters out for a spaghetti dinner in Rome. That's... well, I mean that's pretty cool. Once the deadline's passed and I can share them without breaking the rules, I'll upload a couple of the photos I took in pursuit of this prize.

I'm looking forward to having a bit of time off so I can make things. I want to write poetry, maybe get back into songwriting (my voice is finally 85% returned after a nasty cough), and basically begin to challenge myself creatively again. I've come up with a tentative, unformed plan to leave Cardiff in favour of America at some point, too. I've never had ambition before, so I'm not really sure what to do with it!

Here is a song from Jukebox the Ghost, because I like the video.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, Robot

2011-10-18T13:42:00.000+01:00

The following movie reviews are not what you might call professional, because sometimes I don't pay attention.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy:
I really wanted to like this film. It's got Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, and Benedict Cumberbatch. What's not to like about that? It screams class and distinction, and I'm a cultured person who goes to the opera and everything, so I should like it, right?

Er, maybe.

It was very slow-paced, and the stiff upper lip mannerisms displayed by the main characters, while very in keeping with that time and world, serve to make the first half of the film drag severely. It's hard to engage emotionally when everyone on screen is doing their damnedest to act like feelings are for the little ladies. The saving grace of the first half was, in my opinion, a thoroughly enjoyable scene with Kathy Burke. I'd never seen her in a non-comedic role before, and was delighted and not a bit unnerved by her personable and slightly predatory character!

It did pick up towards the end, with Colin Firth getting to show off a bit more of his emotional range, but by the time the film finished I was left a bit unclear about what the whole endeavour had been for. My fault for going to the cinema while sleepy, I'm sure, but there it is.

Real Steel:
I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed this film. Oh, I know, I expected it to be rubbish too! I've heard the jokes: it's the movie adaptation of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots, and so forth, but honestly I haven't grinned through so much of a film in a long, long time.

Charlie, played by Hugh Jackman, is believable and likeable while still being deeply flawed. His son, Max, played by the unbelievably talented Dakota Goyo, had me thinking "that kid is SO BOSS" throughout the entire thing. He was born in '99, can you believe that? Ugh what am I doing with my life. And, oh yes, Evangeline Lilly as Bailey. I've only seen Evie as Kate in Lost before now, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that Bailey is much less annoying. I'm being unfair... she was amazing in this. Really.

There were moments - very very brief, unmentioned moments - that asked big questions. One shot of a robot facing itself in a mirror, motionless, sparked off so many questions that were never touched on, but the film is all the better for it. This is shameless fluff, and addressing machine sentience is a little out of its grasp. Well done them for not overreaching. Don't make the mistake of interpreting that as an insult: the thing about feel good movies is that they make people feel good! I left the cinema with my heart barfing regenbogen and pleading for a sequel. There will be one. I am delighted.

So what have we learned? That Anna is not cultured, and that Dakota Goyo has a bright future. Oh and regenbogen is German for rainbow.

Tumblr has been bad for me

2011-10-14T01:09:00.000+01:00

I have a tumblr. This is causing problems.

This post contains creepiness, swearing, and excessive lusting; so if you don't want your illusions of me shattered, or want to read me fangirling hard over gorgeous manfaces, ↓↓↓ scroll down to the kitty buffer. ↓↓↓

Otherwise, glad to have you with us and I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. This is my catharsis, ok? I write one, long, freakily obsessive post about Supernatural and then I never mention it again because you deserve better than this.

It started off innocently enough. People shared pictures and stories and opinions on their tumblrs, and a lot of them like the same things I do! They like Doctor Who, and Buffy, and this show I hadn't seen called Supernatural. Eventually, knowing that a couple of my friends really liked it, I decided to give it a go.

This was simultaneously the best and worst decision I've made in a long time.

You see, I love it. The story, the characters, the actors... but Tumblr doesn't leave it at that, oh no. It nourishes obsessions. So after the more immediate pleasures in discovering a new show to enjoy, I started discovering a few of the more... niche... aspects of the 'fandom'.

I discovered the slash fic. And I like it. Some of it is very well written. And from there I discovered RPS, real-person slash, which is... contentious, is probably the word. I like that too. I would probably keep very quiet about the fact if I ever met any of the cast, but still, there it is.

I discovered the lurid past of Jensen Ackles, and some of his more questionable fashion choices.
You have to understand just how gorgeous these people are. The whole damn show is oestrogen bait; the conventions are the lady-heaviest nerdcons I've ever seen.

Jeffrey Dean Morgan, aka John Winchester (and the Comedian from Watchmen!)

Matt Cohen (@mattcohen4real), aka young John Winchester (and others*)

Jensen Ackles, aka Dean Winchester

Ackles' frackles

Jared Padalecki (@jarpad), aka Sam Winchester

Misha Collins (@mishacollins), aka Castiel (and others*)

No but seriously though, his face

Richard Speight Jr (@dicksp8jr), aka the Trickster (and others*)

Rob Benedict (@robbenedict), aka Chuck Shirley, aka Carver Edlund

Mark Pellegrino, aka Lucifer

Sebastian Roche (@sebroche), aka Balthazar

Jim Beaver (@jumblejim), aka Bobby Singer

Mark Sheppard (@mark_sheppard), aka Crowley, aka Badger from Firefly, aka Canton Delaware from Doctor Who, aka Romo Lampkin from Battlestar Gal- actually you know what I'm just going to leave this here, it would be quicker to list the things he hasn't been in

Also I think there are some female characters? Apparently. (Although not many. The fans don't seem to like 'em...)

One of the unexpected side-effects of watching all the Supernatural (ALL the Supernatural!) is that the phrases "blue-steeling like a motherfucker," "male modelling sons of bitches" and "sweet merciful Zeus" have all become permanent fixtures in my mind.

*Spoilers, sweetie!

RIGHT KITTY BUFFER and then no more fangirling and / or lusting after strangers.

In other news, my birthday celebrations (cue update guilt, it feels like quite a while ago) went very very well indeed! I got sent on a fantastic treasure hunt that involved deciphering clues and getting the next one from whichever friend it pointed me to. I got a treasure chest at the end of it full of Lush products, which was just about perfect! The charity shop scavenger hunt I 'planned' went brilliantly; we got fancy hats, snazzy ties, and ugly ornaments aplenty.

Oh yeah, the ugly ornaments... the front-runner was a pottery bear-house that contained three little abominations. I mean, that thing is UGLY. But we had a surprise winner when the creepy pierrot-ish clown ornament turned out to be a music box. It's the most sinister thing, if I can I'll take some video of it because that thing needs to be in your nightmares as well as mine.

We went back to my house with the loot and had a barbecue / party / social gathering that really made my day. By midnight, when I actually turned 24, we had eaten, drunk and been merry, and continued to do so until bedtime.

I will attempt to curb my Tumblr dependency and update this more often, because there's not a shred of doubt in my mind that this is the more worthwhile endeavour. Something something tallest dwarf.

Hobbit wars

2011-09-26T19:28:00.001+01:00

I'm just gonna leave these here.

So, this:

And then this:

Culminating in this:

No word on video of my poetry reading yet, I'm afraid, but I'll keep y'all updated.

You can watch me perform my poems, apparently!

2011-09-20T22:57:00.004+01:00

This Saturday, from 1pm, a poetry event called 100 thousand poets for change will be taking place in Shot In The Dark on City Road. Not all of you live in Cardiff, of course, but the event will be (gulp) livestreamed here oh my goodness.

The theme is "the doors of perception," and I'll be performing at rrrroughly quarter to 2, but do get online / there from 1pm. There's going to be some QUALITY wordsmithery going on. In fact, right after me, Leeum Johnson is performing, and you know what I think of him (hint: he is ammmmaaaaazing).

Also, and this is so so exciting, the headline act is Labi Siffre. This Labi Siffre.

THIS LABI SIFFRE.

This may sound cheesy or whatever but this song used to make me cry when I was a teenager and still felt feelings right. That I'm going to meet the man who wrote these words AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

and all after that was incoherence and panicking

I better come up with something GREAT. At least I'm not reading after Leeum, I really don't think that would go well for me.

So yes, come if you can, sign up to Bambuser if you can't. Entry is free, any donations made will go to Lapidus Cymru. I'm nervous.

FoF: Tackyman

2011-09-20T20:43:00.000+01:00

Tackyman the Deer Whisperer, originally uploaded by tackyshack.

Have I told you how amazing Tackyshack is? If not, I should have done. Marvel at his skill with lightpainting. MARVEL.

I'm performing at a poetry event on Saturday! Don't know what I'm reading yet, might be something as yet unwritten... wish me luck :S

A vastly superior day

2011-09-16T14:57:00.001+01:00

Yesterday was a day of wonderful things.

I wandered around the grass expanse of Bute park, toes clenching and relaxing in the lush grass, treading happily on loose dirt, or my outstretched legs splashing shallow in the river. The barbecue smoke washed through my hair, which I don't mind at all - for the rest of the day, every turn of my head would remind me of it - and the music flowed from the macbook.

Haha, yes. I was getting back to nature in true filthy-footed hippie style, and my cute, skinny, indie-boy friend was playing music on his macbook. I have more cute, skinny, indie-boy friends now than at any previous point in my life. They sure know how to make me feel flabby and uninteresting (on my worse days. Today, I felt nothing but enjoyment of their company. Take that, insecurities!).

The food was great, the company was wonderful, the music, and the grass the grass the grass - my feet were filthy by the time I'd stopped wandering around. Honestly, get one cider in me and I'm so much happier! I even clambered about on the stones in the stone circle grinning happily to myself. I do love Bute Park.

These photos of the park weren't taken yesterday, but they're mine and I like them. So there.

And then, and then, a poetry event! Word4word in the yurt at Milgi. There were bad poets and good poets, a couple of stunningly funny monologues, Leeum doing his thing (that makes me feel like I've been set on fire with language), and one poet who made me take an intensely strong and personal dislike to him. Words have power, kids: they can make me decide you're a dick.

They can also leave me with a burning desire to write. I'm glad I took a notebook with me. It may look pretentious, sitting among poets and scribbling down poetry, but the ideas come thick and fast at those events and they never stay put for long.

To everyone who's comforted or checked up on me since the last blog post: thanks for caring. You really don't need to worry, though. Very soon after writing that emofest, I saw a song by Goldfish that made me dream that I'd decided to stop wallowing and get on with shit. So get on with shit I shall!

Taciturn, melancholy, doleful, blue

2011-09-07T01:22:00.003+01:00

If you know me in person, I'm sorry for being a little bit out of sorts lately. It seems like, in the past few days, a switch has flipped inside my head and now I'm fed up of being alone again.

I won't try to claim that I hadn't been looking for anyone prior to that, but I was essentially okay with being single. I got my share of attention, and while it never led anywhere, it was nice to know that some people still found me attractive. But there have been moments - today especially - when I've heard a second- or even third-hand account of someone falling in love, and have been consumed with misery at the reminder that I'm not anyone's favourite person any more.

It doesn't help that, upon recovering the data I'd thought lost when my laptop died, I discovered old photos of holidays with my ex that I'd forgotten about. It sucks to ask myself when's the last time I looked that happy and (crucially:) relaxed. I still do feel happy, of course, but more often than not it's an oh-god-please-like-me kind of smiley, all bright and tense and desperate to be accepted. I watch myself doing this. Half of me is craving positive reinforcement, and the other half is convinced I don't deserve it.

This sounds awful, doesn't it. Self-indulgently emo, and with no good reason. But I'm willing to bet that you know what I mean, because we've all felt it, and for me this left-on-the-shelf feeling is back in a big way like I haven't felt it since I was nineteen.

Well, this is just tonight. Maybe in the morning, or in a day or a week, I'll have an entirely different outlook. I hope so.

THAT'S RIGHT LET'S ALL FEEL SAD FOR POOR LITTLE ME

Ukes, cats, comedy and a beard.

2011-09-06T01:09:00.000+01:00

Tonight I played some Magic: the Gathering on a sticky pub table; then I went to my second Ukulele Night at Gwdihw, a Cardiff bar that I've otherwise never set foot in. The people were so friendly, and so interesting! I hope to join them for next month's jam session. I'll bring my lovely uke along and show them what little I can do.

Ukulele + cats = maybe heaven?

I've also been watching a documentary about Bill Hicks (this link is good for another 24 hours if you're in the UK). I've seen the occasional glimpse of him before - saying strange things about the nature of reality, or verbally abusing hecklers - and I've been too scared to hear him out, but I think I'm a different person these days. The past few years... I've experienced a lot more. I'm not claiming to be a better person than I was, but I understand him better now.

"I need my sleep. I need about eight hours a day, and about ten at night." - Bill Hicks

As requested, this post contains more kitty than my previous one, and a game about Scroobius Pip's beard that I think is absolutely fantastic. Give it a go!

Found no results for Scroobius Pip + cat. Nice going, so-called GOOGLE.

Recap

2011-08-31T02:02:00.000+01:00

I really have been neglecting you, haven't I. I'm very sorry about that. I think it's because my life is full of people now, so I rarely feel the need to reach out to the internet.

It all changed rather abruptly; I moved in with a friend from uni and his housemates, and suddenly it was as if I'd pushed off downhill in a shopping trolley. Sometimes the road steepens and sometimes it levels out, sometimes the road is especially bumpy, but I love the ride. And extended metaphors.

There's a lot of things I can't write about for privacy reasons. This blog is connected to my real identity and pseudonyms wouldn't protect the anonymity of anyone who knows me and my my friends, so to a certain extent I've had to curtail my desire to write about my experiences.

Let's see, what shape is my life right now...
I work in retail, in a job with great customers. It doesn't earn me much because it's only around two shifts a week. I'm also working as a volunteer for a Cardiff-based publishing company! I've mentioned that, I'm sure, but it's great and exciting and scary and stressful all at once.
Every week we have Drunken Sunday, where loads of our friends come over and we talk, drink, laugh and generally make merry. Drunkenness entirely optional, of course. Sometimes I'm in the middle of everything, flirting outrageously and loving the attention, and sometimes I sit in the corner and just smile because I feel so lucky to be there.

I am, you know. Very lucky. My friends are passionate, interesting, talented people, and easy on the eye to boot! Truth be told, sometimes I feel unworthy. The ol' self-esteem is kind of at an ebb right now. So it goes. I've gained a bit of weight over the past year due to not cycling any more (some helpful person put Ben's 5-digit lock on my bike, so it needs some trial-and-error codebreaking and an awful lot of TLC before I take it back out on the road). It shouldn't matter, and it's not like I think I'm ugly, but every time I see my body I'm disappointed and low. Such a shame. With a bit more confidence, I'd be having a lot more fun!

I am having fun though. Trying new things, going on adventures... On Monday morning (after two hours' sleep and a Drunken Sunday), I went up Garth mountain with my friends. Admittedly I was, er, bringing up the rear - as I say, I'm not in great shape at the best of times - but I made it up eventually and thoroughly enjoyed the whole day. And the night was just magical. It's rare to feel that close to a group of people.

I hope you're all well, and again, I'm sorry for the rather lacklustre attempts at blogging lately. You deserve better. I'll try to up my game!

Love,
A x

Got mad?

2011-08-01T14:57:00.001+01:00

The California milk board recently launched an advertising campaign saying that milk can help relieve the symptoms of PMS. However, rather than targeting this campaign at women, they've taken the indirect approach by roping in our boyfriends to help tame us crazy bitches.

Other taglines include:
"I'm sorry for the thing or things I did or didn't do."
"I'm sorry I listened to what you said and not what you meant."
"Let's agree to disagree with me." and
"We can both blame myself."

Now, this is interesting, because my first response is "Well, this is sexist, offensive, and demeaning to women." It may sound like a feminist kneejerk response, but you only have to have your opinion dismissed with the words "it's her time of the month" a couple of times before you want to remind the world that our opinions don't magically become irrelevant just because we have uteri. The whole wandering womb syndrome (the ancient Greeks' explanation for female hysteria) was disproven some time ago, you know.

Luckily Steve James, executive director of the milk board, has foreseen my response. The following quotes are taken from the New York Times article on the subject:

That the campaign is intended to be “funny, good-natured” ought to defuse criticism, Mr. James says, and “the humor will allow people to laugh at themselves.”

“If you do a microsite about how cute puppies are,” Mr. James says, “you’ll get feedback that says, ‘You’re exploiting puppies.’”

Mr. Goodby [co-chairman at the ad company responsible for this campaign] was reminded of some criticism six years ago of the “Milk to the Rescue” commercial as sexist.
“I wish I could say everybody’s got a sense of humor since then,” he says.

Great. Not only am I irrational, terrifying, and in need of careful placation, I am also minus one sense of humour. They're passed it off as an attempt to "start discussion," but unlike the product they're trying to promote, this leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Good news, everyone!

2011-06-25T04:17:00.000+01:00

celebrating with expletives

I got a 2:2, which is what I expected (when I was stable enough to not be expecting failure, the disapproval of my friends and loved ones, and being put down for my own good). My mum was so excited! And my dad told me that he's been published, which is SO fantastic. My dad's pretty much the best.

Ben got the First that he SO deserves, not to mention a bajillion exciting authorial opportunities. That boy's going places, I'm telling you. B. John Shaw Liddle, keep an eye out.

Also, gay marriage is now legal in New York! Seems to be a good day all round, really. I hope you've got something to celebrate, wherever you are.

I went to a fancy dress party last night, actually wearing a fancy dress for once. It was SO fancy. I haven't uploaded the photos yet, but here is an artist's impression:

Much love to the incredible @irkafirka for that picture! Trying to remember which children's illustrator this reminds me of. It's a bit Horrible Historyish, but I don't think that's it... answers on a postcard please. Anyway, yes, I'll upload photos at some point. I've been taking a lot more lately, which is a lot of fun! They're all going up on my Flickr account, as usual, but here's a couple of recent ones I like:

A friend of mine had a bit of a squabble with Mock The Week's twitter. She doesn't think women are as funny as men. I disagree. Knowing you're a comedy junkie, I'm here to ask you what your thoughts on this generalisation are. (Is? Are? Dammit!) Thoughts?

2011-06-21T18:12:00.001+01:00

Are. I do have thoughts on this subject! Big, uneducated, confusing thoughts!

I can see why the question gets asked. Ask anyone to name the three most famous / popular comedians, and I'd be surprised if a woman's name gets mentioned one time in a hundred. I think a lot of it's to do with the way it's televised. Look at any stand-up show, any quiz-comedy-panel-show, and you'll see one woman. Maybe two. Women are underrepresented in mainstream comedy, and that can lead to three possible conclusions: either 1) women aren't as funny as men, or 2) women are being excluded because society discourages female comedy.

2) might sound implausible, because we tend to think "that doesn't happen any more", but how many things has society assumed women don't want to / can't do? How many times has it been wrong?

I still haven't worked out why there are things that people find funny from men that they don't like hearing from women (though this is just my gut feeling; I haven't researched it), but hopefully we'll see the gender gap close in coming years.

I submit these videos as evidence that some women are, in fact, hilarious.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6aYLOf8CUQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTRTXhX0ee4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCzRRakqQWU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arJ4Uwf009k (This one has Hugh Laurie in. I make no apology for this.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7IW7mbvDdk (This one's barely even funny but it's got Johnny Depp in it, and I think I've lost sight of why I'm doing this.)

Also, I want to thank you for giving me an excuse to watch lots and LOTS of Smack the Pony videos XD

Play

Ask me things! (Questions preferred.)

Pretty sure I'm marrying Bruce

2011-06-17T15:19:00.000+01:00

Guys! Guys, I just got the most AMAZING OFFER from a man who, I'm sure, is going to become a dear friend of mine. Check it out!

Dear Manager,

(Alright, admittedly I'm not a manager. But I DO come across as quite managerial in my personal and written communications, something that Bruce here clearly picked up on.)

This is Shanghai Eyescomfort Co.,ltd, specializing in making ANTIBACTERIAL, SKIDPROOF, BREATHE FREELY NOSE PADS with high quality and pretty competitive price. The latest fashion nose pads is unprecedented, such as:

Keeping eyeglasses in place,

Keeping your nose pads far away from dirt, and be clean and hygienic,

Keeping your nose skin fresh, natural, healthy.

(See? See what I mean? Ah, Bruce, you know only too well the pain and suffering that non-fresh nose skin can cause. You mean you've found a solution for this, Bruce? Oh Bruce, what was my life before you?)

Our products are all-new designed, which are more suitable compared the traditional product(PVC,silicone) for human skin. Besides, we have the patent for the nose pad. FREE SAMPLES are available.

The attachments are the pictures, please kindly have a look.

Best Regards!

Bruce

Pictures? Yes! Check it out!

Stylish!

Ergonomic!

I don't know how he got my email address, maybe from that nose pad appreciation forum, but boy I'm glad he did. Email me again, Bruce, and soon. I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your insights on which substances are suitable for human nose-skin.

Your loyal friend and customer,

Anna.

a barbecue and a waterfight

2011-06-15T16:24:00.000+01:00

"More or less exactly" is an oxymoron that I find myself using lately. As in, I've been single for more or less exactly a year. I can't be sure of the date because I didn't blog about it at the time, and without the internet to serve as my external memory I'm more lost than a puppy filling out a tax return.

I was seriously thinking about writing a "how I feel about stuff and things" post, but to be honest I don't have anything interesting to say about the subject. I lost my faith, and that was the only dealbreaker. Fin. So instead I want to share some awesome stuff I've been doing!

Two nights ago some friends and I had a beach BBQ. It was honestly the loveliest sunset I've seen in a very long time. Here are some pictures of that:

And then yesterday we had an epic waterfight, of which there are no photos, because I was too busy watergunning fools (and getting cups of water thrown over me because Aston's a dirty cheater.)

This but with guns and laughing

I'm really looking forward to seeing my family in a couple of weeks; we're going on a sort of road trip holiday thing so that'll be cool.

Much love to y'all!

Bristol: JoCo

2011-06-13T16:52:00.001+01:00

Bristol, you are so good to me.

The first time I ever went to Bristol, I met a bunch of awesome beatboxers, and I somehow manage to go back to Cardiff (yay!) instead of Plymouth (boo) where I actually lived.
The second time, more epic beatboxing, and a hug from Hobbit (who BY THE WAY is @hobbitbeats on twitter),
The third time, I met Mr. Jonti Picking aka Weebl, and nerded all over the place for a full weekend, not to mention taking some awesome photos that I'll show you as soon as my friend uploads them (meaningful looks at Dave),

And last Thursday I finally got to see Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm performing.

Ici, la photobomb.

I'll say it again, Bristol, you are SO good to me.

A hundred years

2011-06-06T00:10:00.002+01:00

Today we rowed on Roath Lake. We got the hang of turning. We went around the tower twice, avoiding other vessels. We joked about pirates.

It's a big lake, lined by willow trees, but the great grey beauty was held in such a little moment - when a tiny signet, following its swan mother, shrugged and wriggled and flapped its stubby wing-nubs. I stopped rowing, wanting this moment - passing by these tiny, fluffy bird-pups - to last as long as possible.

We didn't fall in.

Then we went into Roath Park Conservatory where it was so warm that we fell asleep on a bench for a hundred years.

To my older self

2011-06-02T13:01:00.000+01:00

When you are older, Anna, and working hard, and you look back on your university days with wistful nostalgia, I want you to remember how you felt now. Remember that the world caved in on you and you almost caved with it. Remember the feeling that any way out is better than writing another essay. It's not true objectively, it's just a temporary stress-based madness...

If you really do start to miss the drunken sundays and days off and creative coursemates, remember that it came with chaos, wasted weeks and deadlines that cracked your head.

Rose-tinted glasses won't suit you anyway.

A letter to Laura*

2011-05-31T14:46:00.001+01:00

*names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and me.

You know, there’s a saying about the Queen that she must think everywhere smells like fresh paint. The world turns itself inside-out for her, and she must just think it’s normal. You’re a lot like that, Laura. You must wander through life thinking that men fall in love at the drop of a hat, but that’s not how things are, that’s just you. Men just fall in love with you. I’m not blaming you for that; you can’t help it, but the way you handle it leaves them broken, no good for anybody else.

And I’m cursed to have the same taste in men as you, and to watch them mooning over you while you dance over their fucking hearts. Eventually, maybe, one of them will realise that they’ll never have you, and will settle for me. But why should that be enough for me? Should I make peace with never being their first choice? I don’t want to go for your sloppy seconds. I’d much rather not. But still, when these sweet, kind men get tossed aside by you, sometimes I reach out to them for a moment before realising that you’re still not done. You still aren’t finished with them. So what do I do? I back the fuck off as you pull them back in, because I don’t want to make things even more complicated, and watch you complicate it all by yourself.

I don’t think I owe you a confession, but here it is anyway: I really, really liked your ex. He was coming out of your two-year relationship with his self-esteem hitting rock bottom. I had just broken up with my partner of three years and needed some comfort. So we kept each other company some nights – just that, no funny stuff – and I did the tactful thing and made sure not to mention it around you. It would have been cruel to say anything. But how much of that was fear and guilt?

Do you remember the night we went out dancing at the Welsh Club? Rach kept saying that she really, really liked your ex, but there’s no way she could do that to you, because you were friends. Imagine how that made me feel. You broke down in tears that night and said you wanted to kill yourself; it’s the first time you’d admitted missing him. I decided then and there that I wouldn’t be spending the night with him again, and I felt a calmness and clarity of purpose in that decision. I made you my priority. Bros before hoes.

It was different when Alex kissed me. You hadn't been together that long anyway, and it was after you'd been broken up for a while. He’d already asked me to clarify what I meant when I said I was “very fond” of him, and we’d both made it clear that it wasn’t worth complicating things over. I never pursued him. The kiss was a surprise, as much to him as to me, I think. It was nice. We were hanging out at the metal night the guys were running for a while. Alex is good company.

I don’t need to apologise for Mark. Nothing happened between us, nothing at all, and that’s not for lack of trying on my part. You knew I like him, but he’s crazy about you so you went for it. I’d probably have done the same damn thing in your position. Or in his, for that matter. It could have been a good thing! For both of you! It could have been fun and sweet and uncomplicated, but you’ve already begun lying and hiding and being reckless with his health as well as his feelings.

You’re magic. That’s why they fall in love with you. You dance like you’re made of music and you dress like you’re not afraid of anything, but I’ve never known anybody more scared.

So, yeah, I’m jealous. And I’m angry. But most of all I’m frightened, because when you hurt these men you hurt yourself too. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? Come home safe.

Yeah, dude. Yeah it is.