I’m not normally given to writing posts about how amazing it is that it’s Friday – we all know that Fridays are brilliant and should be worshipped like the Gods that they are. But today I’m making an exception because I could not be more pleased that Friday is finally here.
This week has been strange to say the least. It has been characterised by intense highs, followed by crashing lows. I don’t think I’ve been on an emotional binge like it in quite some time.
Work has been pretty horrible, I found out that I’m probably going to be made redundant in May, I’m generally not happy there and have just felt drained by it constantly at the moment.
My home life has been plagued this week also with a few things going wrong that have caused me extra expense, stress and anxiety.
But in stark contrast to this I’ve had some amazing things happen to me thanks to you lovely people. When I wrote that post a week ago I didn’t expect my inbox to get quite so many e-mails offering me help. I had offers of clothes, offers of food, offers of aida, even the Crown Prince of Nigeria got in touch to say he had some money to send my way if I could help him out with some business...no. wait. That might have been spam.
If I was poet I would say that they were like spangly bits of sunshine in an otherwise rainy, stormy day, or that they were like a spoonful of sugar in the bitter coffee of life. But then I’d realise that I was a really crap poet and I’d settle for saying that they were just really nice things that happened, that made me smile and made me remember that life wasn’t a complete slimeball of grease and nasty stuff.
Like Heather who has introduced me to the delights of Graze.com and possibly sparked an obsession which could lead me into further financial ruin were I to succumb to the temptation of getting a weekly box delivered to work (instead I’m thinking maybe a once a month treat).
Or agirlinwinter who has made sure that my resolution to make a Christmas card each month is well and truly back on track for this year and probably in 2012 should I wish to go for it.
Or Her Royal Highness The Lady Mooncalf who has ensured the arrival of (amongst other things) skinny jeans into my life, meaning I’m only several years too late joining a fashion trend.
My moods might have swung like Tarzan over the past week but I every low has made me appreciate every high a little bit more.
Having said that, my goodness am I glad this week is over. Hopefully that’s an end to the extremes, I’d rather just have a level playing field from now on please.
Plus. There’s only one week left to pay day. I might be limping there like the poor child who gets their feet taffled up together in the egg and spoon race and arrives at the red tape sniffling and snuffling and snotting all over the place, but I’ll get there nonetheless.
Friday, 14 January 2011
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Parenting 101
The benefit of having a much older brother and sister is that you get the opportunity to observe them going through life and resolve to not make the same mistakes as them.
For instance: I watched my brother get married to his first love who happened to be a complete mentalist, only to end up divorced a few years later and never speaking to his father again – Note to self: Do not do that when grown up
For instance: I watched my sister climb the corporate ladder and get a very high powered job – Note to self: Do not do that when grown up (I’m not cut out for the hours that are required from that kind of position!)
But mostly I have picked up a litany of parenting tips. My first nephew was born when I was 13 so I’ve had a long time to slowly absorb things and file them away. I learned the best tactics for changing nappies, how to deal with temper tantrums, how to deal with whingey whiny snotbags and the importance of keeping up to date with your Maths skills to help with homework.
Last weekend I went over to my Mum’s to meet up with my brother, sister-in-law, youngest nephew and new niece. My niece is at a delightful age, 12 weeks, she’s no longer just a small baby-sized lump doing nothing but sleep and scream and is now smiling and interacting with the world around her. Everyone likes baby smiles.
My youngest nephew is two and a half and has now entered a phase where he actually likes me. There has been a long time where he would just bury his head and have nothing to do with me, mainly because I didn’t see him enough for him to know me, something which my poor little heart has struggled with. But now he knows me, knows my name and seems fairly happy to sit and play with his cars with me.
After a while my nephew went to lie down on the settee, exhausted by an afternoon of completing jigsaws and pushing cars about the floor and terrorising Fred and Lily. I was passed the baby and sat content in Auntie role, marvelling at how small her hands are and how long her eyelashes are and general baby-related nonsense.
My nephew suddenly sat up on Mum’s settee.
“He looks very pale” remarked his mother.
“He’s just tired” said my brother.
And with that, my nephew vomited all over the settee and himself.
There was a stunned moment of silence as all of us looked at him and then he did it again which galvanised everyone into action. My brother was instructed to take him upstairs, my sister-in-law started cleaning up and Mum started filling up the washing up bowl to start sponging down the settee.
There was a fraught 15 minutes or so as people took care of nephew and the cleaning operation (which had to be extended from the settee as my nephew had thrown up again as my brother was carrying him up the stairs, spraying walls and stair carpet).
Me? I was the rather smug member of the family who wasn’t obliged to do anything because I was fortunate enough to be holding the baby at the commencement of vomiting.
Note to self: Keep hold of the baby at all times when a toddler is also in the picture, they are bound to be less trouble.
(Extra note to self: When toddler is vomiting, don’t take him upstairs, remove him swiftly to the kitchen sink where there is at least laminate flooring.)
For instance: I watched my brother get married to his first love who happened to be a complete mentalist, only to end up divorced a few years later and never speaking to his father again – Note to self: Do not do that when grown up
For instance: I watched my sister climb the corporate ladder and get a very high powered job – Note to self: Do not do that when grown up (I’m not cut out for the hours that are required from that kind of position!)
But mostly I have picked up a litany of parenting tips. My first nephew was born when I was 13 so I’ve had a long time to slowly absorb things and file them away. I learned the best tactics for changing nappies, how to deal with temper tantrums, how to deal with whingey whiny snotbags and the importance of keeping up to date with your Maths skills to help with homework.
Last weekend I went over to my Mum’s to meet up with my brother, sister-in-law, youngest nephew and new niece. My niece is at a delightful age, 12 weeks, she’s no longer just a small baby-sized lump doing nothing but sleep and scream and is now smiling and interacting with the world around her. Everyone likes baby smiles.
My youngest nephew is two and a half and has now entered a phase where he actually likes me. There has been a long time where he would just bury his head and have nothing to do with me, mainly because I didn’t see him enough for him to know me, something which my poor little heart has struggled with. But now he knows me, knows my name and seems fairly happy to sit and play with his cars with me.
After a while my nephew went to lie down on the settee, exhausted by an afternoon of completing jigsaws and pushing cars about the floor and terrorising Fred and Lily. I was passed the baby and sat content in Auntie role, marvelling at how small her hands are and how long her eyelashes are and general baby-related nonsense.
My nephew suddenly sat up on Mum’s settee.
“He looks very pale” remarked his mother.
“He’s just tired” said my brother.
And with that, my nephew vomited all over the settee and himself.
There was a stunned moment of silence as all of us looked at him and then he did it again which galvanised everyone into action. My brother was instructed to take him upstairs, my sister-in-law started cleaning up and Mum started filling up the washing up bowl to start sponging down the settee.
There was a fraught 15 minutes or so as people took care of nephew and the cleaning operation (which had to be extended from the settee as my nephew had thrown up again as my brother was carrying him up the stairs, spraying walls and stair carpet).
Me? I was the rather smug member of the family who wasn’t obliged to do anything because I was fortunate enough to be holding the baby at the commencement of vomiting.
Note to self: Keep hold of the baby at all times when a toddler is also in the picture, they are bound to be less trouble.
(Extra note to self: When toddler is vomiting, don’t take him upstairs, remove him swiftly to the kitchen sink where there is at least laminate flooring.)
GRATUITOUS BABY PHOTO!
Monday, 10 January 2011
Overwhelmed
Overwhelmed: to overcome completely in mind or feeling. (source)
This is definitely how I’ve been over the past few days. I have tried several times to just think about what it is that I’ve wanted to say and have stumbled before I could even begin to make my fingers hit the keyboard. Then when I did begin to type it was a terrible incoherent mess (I'll tell you now, this final draft isn't much better. Apologies).
Sometimes there aren’t words, or maybe I just don’t have the words to properly convey the feelings generated by the responses to my last post.
Thank you doesn’t seem enough. Two little words. What a load of rubbish. We say them about a thousand times a day as it is, they don’t seem appropriate in this situation. If you were standing in front of me I’d yell them at you and hold my arms very wide and jump up and down while I said it but I think that might be borderline weird.
But thank you is all I have and I have really been bowled over by the kind words that people left me and the more than generous offers that came into my e-mail inbox. You must understand that that wasn’t my intention in writing that post to say “Oh please give me things.” The Inner Brat wasn’t even in work that day. That was just one of those posts that I (hopefully) don’t write too often where everything came out in one big sludge of crappiness.
Please don’t have visions of me fighting the pigeons in Hull City Centre for scraps of food (apart from anything I’d kick their arses, they’re all malformed in some way). I can feed myself for the next two weeks. I won’t be doing much else and let’s just say that these last few pounds that I want to lose will probably not have any problems in disappearing, but I won’t be lying on my bed, too weak to type, or getting arrested for stealing my shopping like certain Cheeky Girls.
I have a bit of a problem with my pride. This little independent streak of mine, that most of the time I would deny I have, comes into full force when my back’s against the wall. I very very very rarely ask for help and will only very rarely accept it when it’s offered. I struggle with feeling like accepting will mean admitting defeat whilst not accepting is kind of a rude thing to do. I don’t know where it’s come from, most likely my Mum, we want to do things ourselves, but that unfortunately does not stop us complaining about it in the meantime.
When people were offering me help on the blog my first reaction was to completely freak out. I felt like I was a fraud that had conned you all into offering me help and that if I told you it wasn’t that bad then everyone would hate me. I spent most of the weekend trying to work out how to issue a retraction.
But I realise that was mainly my pride talking (as if having the Inner Brat wasn’t enough to deal with) and that actually things are pretty shit at the moment and it’s ok to admit that and it’s ok to accept help where it’s offered. I’m pretty sure I’ve contacted everyone who did e-mail me and most of those e-mails were along the same garbled, embarrassed acceptance lines.
All I can say is thank you for all your words and advice and just general support. They were incredibly touching and I really haven’t known what to do with myself or how to deal with it (as has probably become clearly apparent in this ridiculous post).
To answer some of your questions/advice however:
JOBS: Believe me I know my wage is crap. And I am absolutely looking for new jobs and am desperate to relocate. I know I go on about how much I love Hull but that is purely because I have to love Hull, I’m here, I’m dealing with it. I haven’t wanted to be here since I was forced to move back from Manchester 4 years ago. Unfortunately social science research is not particularly well funded so jobs don’t come up often or at all. I would (reluctantly) abandon my career and do something else but have no idea what to do and get overwhelmed at the possibilities. I would be more than willing to do PA and admin jobs which often pay more than my current wage, but guess what? They don’t accept me because I’m over-qualified. But I am looking. Especially as it’s looking likely that I’ll be redundant in May (yeah I hadn’t even touched on that! A woo hoo!)
DEBT: My debt is not the traditional consolidate your debt kind of problem. My student loan was a Career Development Loan taken out to finance my MSc. Unfortunately you can’t defer these bad boys, part of the reason I ended up back in Hull when those £180 monthly repayments started. I was hoping to do a bit of balance transfer jiggery pokery with my credit card but unfortunately my crappy credit history has put paid to that. It’s just one of those things, if I don’t put anything more on it then hopefully in a year or so that will be gone.
LIVING SITUATION: I have thought long and hard about moving back in with Mum. To be honest it’s not an option, I couldn’t live there rent-free, she’s a pensioner so I’d end up paying her similar to the amount I currently pay (which is incredibly tiny by the way, I’m lucky to be in the situation I am in with Dorothy). Plus I would be further out from the centre meaning more transport costs and the termination of any small social life I do currently have – Stitch and Bitch would be right out of the window as I wouldn’t be able to get there.
E-BAY/CAR BOOT SALES: When I moved out of the flat with the ex, I took what I needed and that was it. Everything else was left behind. All my possessions are in the room I have in the house and that’s it. I understand that I could sell anything but there really isn’t anything to sell.
I will continue to look more at Moneysavingexpert – I might pick up something useful and at least be able to get some social activities going.
I will be fine. To be honest this post was going to be written last month when I really was almost screwed but I figured no-one wanted to hear about that kind of nonsense in the run up to Christmas. I knew that January was going to be tough, we were paid a week early in December (thank god) so I’ve gone an extra week without pay, plus the various costs of fun and merriment that went on over Christmas have to be taken into consideration. Things will slowly get better as I try and struggle to get control over my situation.
But thank you. Again. I know it’s not a lot but it’s literally all I have to give. When things get better I will make it all up to you. I promise. My pride won’t let me not. Let’s call it a Pride Promise.
Ok. Time to be quiet now.
Thank you.
(Shush.)
I have no idea why the font has gone so weird all of a sudden. This is not a good Monday.
Friday, 7 January 2011
"I've got no money"
What does that phrase mean to you?
It should be straight forward really. It means that you have no money surely? You have no money to spend on anything.
And yet it’s surprising just how many meanings this simple phrase has. You hear it all the time and over the years I have discovered some of its varied meanings.
- There was the friend who always claimed he “had no money” but seemed able to go out drinking every Friday and Saturday night.
- There was the friend who claimed she “had no money” but still managed to go shopping at the weekend and buy a new wardrobe of clothes.
- There’s the person who claimed they “had no money” when what they actually meant was they weren’t adding to their already overflowing savings account.
- There’s the person who says they’ve “got no money” but then reveal that what they mean by that is that they’re approaching the point at which they will go overdrawn. Not reached their overdraft limit, but will go into the red. (This is my personal favourite by the way).
- There’s the person that says they’ve “got no money” but still manages to go for meals out and buy themselves an unbelievable amount of treats.
Those are the most common variations I have come across the past few years. It’s no wonder then that when I say “I’ve got no money” people tend not to take it seriously but just nod and go “Yeah I know what you mean.”
Do you? Do you really get what I’m saying?
Because when I say “I’ve got no money” I mean, I’ve got no money. I mean that I’m at my overdraft limit (I haven’t been in the black since my first year at uni). I mean that I’m worried about buying food. I mean that I can’t afford to get the bus this week. I mean that I feel constantly sick because I’m worried I won’t be able to pay my bills. I mean, I’ve got no money.
I wouldn’t mind if it was because I live a wonderful jam packed lifestyle with nights out every weekend and a wardrobe bursting with clothes and a cupboard stuffed full of yarn and cross-stitched goodness. But I don’t have any of those things. Nights out are few and far between, once a month, if that. My wardrobe is laughable, nothing fits me anymore (something I am aware I should be celebrating) I’m left with a pair of leggings which are now too big for me as well and I can’t do anything about it (and please please please don’t tell me to go to Tescos or Asda or Primark or charity shops, read my lips – I’ve got no money). I’m supposed to be cross-stitching one Christmas card a month to fulfil my new year resolutions but that won’t be happening for long because I’m about to run out of aida.
What does my money go on? Debt. Debt that I accrued getting degrees that haven’t helped me in the slightest. I’m not profligate by any stretch of the imagination, I just do not have a sufficient income to get by on. I earn £16k which I am aware is enough to live on, but people don’t realise that £350 of that goes out on a career development loan and a credit card debt I ran up getting my masters degree. Get rid of those and yes of course I’ll be a happier person.
The people who tend to not get it are more often than not the people in couples. The people who may not consciously think about it, but know deep down inside that they have someone else to lean on if things get a bit rough. Someone else to share the cost of living with. When I was living with my ex I was earning the same amount of money but I was quite the comfortable person, ok I wasn’t loaded but I was managing to save each month. I was aware that when I left, things would be more difficult, I would be paying more out on living costs than I did when we were together and there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in my budget and I accepted that but had I honestly honestly known how tough things would be I cannot say hand on heart that I would have made the decision to leave.
Because I’m miserable. I’m more miserable now than I ever was with him. I wasn’t even miserable at all with him, that’s the hilarious punchline to this tragic joke.
Of course I know I made the right decision, I didn’t love him and it speaks volumes that the only reason I’m missing my relationship is because of my financial difficulties and the one thing I didn’t want to be was someone who was with somebody just because of the security they offered me.
But right now? At this moment in time?
It’s wearing me down.
(Wait. In this interests of honesty I feel I should tell you that I did deign to spend money on myself this Christmas, I bought two pairs of shoes from Primark for a grand total of £20 - one pair is still in the carrier bag with the receipt so I can take them back next week when things get too bad. Silly me for trying to buy myself something nice.)
It should be straight forward really. It means that you have no money surely? You have no money to spend on anything.
And yet it’s surprising just how many meanings this simple phrase has. You hear it all the time and over the years I have discovered some of its varied meanings.
- There was the friend who always claimed he “had no money” but seemed able to go out drinking every Friday and Saturday night.
- There was the friend who claimed she “had no money” but still managed to go shopping at the weekend and buy a new wardrobe of clothes.
- There’s the person who claimed they “had no money” when what they actually meant was they weren’t adding to their already overflowing savings account.
- There’s the person who says they’ve “got no money” but then reveal that what they mean by that is that they’re approaching the point at which they will go overdrawn. Not reached their overdraft limit, but will go into the red. (This is my personal favourite by the way).
- There’s the person that says they’ve “got no money” but still manages to go for meals out and buy themselves an unbelievable amount of treats.
Those are the most common variations I have come across the past few years. It’s no wonder then that when I say “I’ve got no money” people tend not to take it seriously but just nod and go “Yeah I know what you mean.”
Do you? Do you really get what I’m saying?
Because when I say “I’ve got no money” I mean, I’ve got no money. I mean that I’m at my overdraft limit (I haven’t been in the black since my first year at uni). I mean that I’m worried about buying food. I mean that I can’t afford to get the bus this week. I mean that I feel constantly sick because I’m worried I won’t be able to pay my bills. I mean, I’ve got no money.
I wouldn’t mind if it was because I live a wonderful jam packed lifestyle with nights out every weekend and a wardrobe bursting with clothes and a cupboard stuffed full of yarn and cross-stitched goodness. But I don’t have any of those things. Nights out are few and far between, once a month, if that. My wardrobe is laughable, nothing fits me anymore (something I am aware I should be celebrating) I’m left with a pair of leggings which are now too big for me as well and I can’t do anything about it (and please please please don’t tell me to go to Tescos or Asda or Primark or charity shops, read my lips – I’ve got no money). I’m supposed to be cross-stitching one Christmas card a month to fulfil my new year resolutions but that won’t be happening for long because I’m about to run out of aida.
What does my money go on? Debt. Debt that I accrued getting degrees that haven’t helped me in the slightest. I’m not profligate by any stretch of the imagination, I just do not have a sufficient income to get by on. I earn £16k which I am aware is enough to live on, but people don’t realise that £350 of that goes out on a career development loan and a credit card debt I ran up getting my masters degree. Get rid of those and yes of course I’ll be a happier person.
The people who tend to not get it are more often than not the people in couples. The people who may not consciously think about it, but know deep down inside that they have someone else to lean on if things get a bit rough. Someone else to share the cost of living with. When I was living with my ex I was earning the same amount of money but I was quite the comfortable person, ok I wasn’t loaded but I was managing to save each month. I was aware that when I left, things would be more difficult, I would be paying more out on living costs than I did when we were together and there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in my budget and I accepted that but had I honestly honestly known how tough things would be I cannot say hand on heart that I would have made the decision to leave.
Because I’m miserable. I’m more miserable now than I ever was with him. I wasn’t even miserable at all with him, that’s the hilarious punchline to this tragic joke.
Of course I know I made the right decision, I didn’t love him and it speaks volumes that the only reason I’m missing my relationship is because of my financial difficulties and the one thing I didn’t want to be was someone who was with somebody just because of the security they offered me.
But right now? At this moment in time?
It’s wearing me down.
(Wait. In this interests of honesty I feel I should tell you that I did deign to spend money on myself this Christmas, I bought two pairs of shoes from Primark for a grand total of £20 - one pair is still in the carrier bag with the receipt so I can take them back next week when things get too bad. Silly me for trying to buy myself something nice.)
Thursday, 6 January 2011
Bad planning
Train fares are ridiculous aren’t they? When scoping out the prices of trains from my beloved Hull down to my beloved’s Bognor I was bloody outraged a little dismayed to discover that it was going to cost me £104. Or rather it wouldn’t have cost me £104 at all, because I would have had to have stayed at home and cried into my pillow.
My saviour came in the blue and yellow form of Megabus who promised to take me all the way from Hull to London for just £9 one way. Then it was just a hop, skip and a £35 train fare to the seaside.
I came back with That Person (that can be his name for now I think) as far as London, at which point we parted ways, him to the wilds of Preston and me to the sanctity of the Humber Bridge. However I had rather a long wait in London until I was transported back home. As in 5 hours.
I decided this would be good. I would have some me time in London and be brave and go and do something. Except in the post-Christmas haze my brain just couldn’t think of anything it really wanted to go and see. I settled on a trip to the Tate Modern and after putting my luggage in storage (Well recommended if you don’t want to lug your suitcase round with you all day. £8 for 24 hours and they’re in most of the London stations I think. Although man are you guys getting ripped off again, I could have put my luggage in storage in Manchester Piccadilly for the same amount of time for £5. Ridiculous. Did you know your Boots Meal Deals are more expensive than up here too? SCANDALOUS.) I made my way there. I had already thoroughly planned and memorised my Tube route – I’m still a little scared of the Underground you know.
Anybody have any suggestions? Or does anyone wish to squire me about town for an afternoon and prove to me that London is amazing?!
My saviour came in the blue and yellow form of Megabus who promised to take me all the way from Hull to London for just £9 one way. Then it was just a hop, skip and a £35 train fare to the seaside.
I came back with That Person (that can be his name for now I think) as far as London, at which point we parted ways, him to the wilds of Preston and me to the sanctity of the Humber Bridge. However I had rather a long wait in London until I was transported back home. As in 5 hours.
I decided this would be good. I would have some me time in London and be brave and go and do something. Except in the post-Christmas haze my brain just couldn’t think of anything it really wanted to go and see. I settled on a trip to the Tate Modern and after putting my luggage in storage (Well recommended if you don’t want to lug your suitcase round with you all day. £8 for 24 hours and they’re in most of the London stations I think. Although man are you guys getting ripped off again, I could have put my luggage in storage in Manchester Piccadilly for the same amount of time for £5. Ridiculous. Did you know your Boots Meal Deals are more expensive than up here too? SCANDALOUS.) I made my way there. I had already thoroughly planned and memorised my Tube route – I’m still a little scared of the Underground you know.
I got to the Tate and saw the latest exhibition in the Turbine Hall. My tiny little brain simply could not comprehend what I was seeing. This whole space is filled with sunflower seeds made from porcelain? Each one hand crafted in China? Really? Nope sorry, now I must explode. Kaboom.
Ai Weiwei's Sunflower Seeds - mind boggling
I started to walk around and then it hit me. I’m really not that big an art fan. I’m sorry I feel like a terrible person saying it out loud but it just does nothing for me. Particularly the ‘modern’ stuff. What the hell was I doing in there?! This was stupid, I would wander around, not appreciating it and then spend money I don’t have in the gift shop.
Plan aborted.
New plan: Go to St Paul’s. You can handle that, you can see it from where you’re standing for goodness’ sake! Trot across Millennium Bridge, get into St Paul’s, realise that yeah, it’s a big church and you can’t see the good stuff without paying money. Light a candle and hope that Jesus doesn’t hate me.
Plan aborted.
Get out of the way annoying tourists!
I stood on the steps for a while feeling a little bit lost. I still had a few hours to kill but had no idea what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go or how I would get there. This is quite a problem when you’re in London. I tried to just blindly walk into the City but got The Frights and scampered into the Underground at St Paul’s for safety. I did my best navigating-the-Tube-all-by-myself-on-the-cuff ever and got back to Victoria where I picked up my suitcase and went to St Pancras where I sought out the comfort of a seat with some tea and a sandwich and read my book for a couple of hours before heading Hull-ward.
Just call me Mistress of the Underground
On the whole? Not a great success. I could have done a lot better. But this Megabus revelation has opened up a whole world to me – I could totally go to London for the day for £18! I’d arrive at 11.30am and leave at 6.00pm but that still leaves 6.5 hours in London, which to be honest is probably all I could take. Now I just need a better plan with what to do with my time.
Anybody have any suggestions? Or does anyone wish to squire me about town for an afternoon and prove to me that London is amazing?!
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Wedding Dos and Don'ts
I’m not the biggest fan of New Year’s Eve normally. Whilst I’m always up for a big night out, don’t you find that the nights out that you hype up in your head tend to be the worst? New Year’s Eve is the biggest hyped night of the year, it’s no wonder the poor sod never quite lives up to my expectations.
2010’s NYE saw a first for me however, my first NYE Wedding. The Person That I Don’t Talk About On My Blog (I really need to think of a better nickname for him) lives in the deepest, darkest South of England and one of his childhood friend’s was tying the knot so I braved my way down there to join him for some belated Christmas celebrating.
I was pretty pleased about the wedding being on NYE – you can’t go wrong with a wedding can you? They’re always fun.
Well.
I have come up with a list of Wedding Dos and Don’ts for anyone who’s planning an upcoming wedding.
DO choose a beautiful setting and they don’t come more beautiful than Arundel Cathedral (even if it is at the top of the world’s steepest hill)
DO remember to warn people that Catholic weddings go on for approximately a million years. I had completely forgotten and wanted to eat my own arm off when it got past the 1 hour mark. I almost went up to get a blessing when they were taking Communion because I felt I deserved having sat through all of it.
DO have possibly the most awesome wedding car ever.
DO exercise the bride's prerogative to be late, but DON'T take the piss. 10 minutes is fine. Half an hour, not so much.
DON’T invite people to the wedding ceremony and reception but tell them there’s no room for them at the wedding breakfast. People will feel obliged to attend the wedding ceremony and will then be left with hours and hours of dead space to try and fill. And linked to this...
DON’T have your wedding on New Year’s Eve if you’re not going to feed them. Pubs stop serving food early on New Year’s Eve, meaning that the guests not eating with you will be forced into a tea room because it’s the only place open. (But thank god it was a tea room that served wine.)
DON’T have a jazz band with the combined age of 93 providing the only entertainment all night. Yes it may be classy but it gets incredibly samey after about half an hour, what’s wrong with just having a bit of cheesy disco?!
DO feed your guests in the evening. Small home-made pies does not a buffet make. Especially when your Lost Guests only managed to find a tea room serving food.
DO give all your guests Chinese Lanterns to set off after midnight. It was a nice touch, even if people did go slightly insane in the rush to the little bonfire to light them and nearly set themselves alight.
2010’s NYE saw a first for me however, my first NYE Wedding. The Person That I Don’t Talk About On My Blog (I really need to think of a better nickname for him) lives in the deepest, darkest South of England and one of his childhood friend’s was tying the knot so I braved my way down there to join him for some belated Christmas celebrating.
I was pretty pleased about the wedding being on NYE – you can’t go wrong with a wedding can you? They’re always fun.
Well.
I have come up with a list of Wedding Dos and Don’ts for anyone who’s planning an upcoming wedding.
DO choose a beautiful setting and they don’t come more beautiful than Arundel Cathedral (even if it is at the top of the world’s steepest hill)
DO remember to warn people that Catholic weddings go on for approximately a million years. I had completely forgotten and wanted to eat my own arm off when it got past the 1 hour mark. I almost went up to get a blessing when they were taking Communion because I felt I deserved having sat through all of it.
DO have possibly the most awesome wedding car ever.
DO exercise the bride's prerogative to be late, but DON'T take the piss. 10 minutes is fine. Half an hour, not so much.
DON’T invite people to the wedding ceremony and reception but tell them there’s no room for them at the wedding breakfast. People will feel obliged to attend the wedding ceremony and will then be left with hours and hours of dead space to try and fill. And linked to this...
DON’T have your wedding on New Year’s Eve if you’re not going to feed them. Pubs stop serving food early on New Year’s Eve, meaning that the guests not eating with you will be forced into a tea room because it’s the only place open. (But thank god it was a tea room that served wine.)
DON’T have a jazz band with the combined age of 93 providing the only entertainment all night. Yes it may be classy but it gets incredibly samey after about half an hour, what’s wrong with just having a bit of cheesy disco?!
DO feed your guests in the evening. Small home-made pies does not a buffet make. Especially when your Lost Guests only managed to find a tea room serving food.
DO give all your guests Chinese Lanterns to set off after midnight. It was a nice touch, even if people did go slightly insane in the rush to the little bonfire to light them and nearly set themselves alight.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
The Not Really Resolutions
Every year, January 1st seems to sneak up on me, which is ridiculous for many reasons, not least the fact that it happens every year. (No. Wait. That is the only reason it’s ridiculous.)
Faced with people asking me on the spot I come up with something either entirely rubbish or generic or something which is never going to be achievable. I once swore that I would take my make-up off every single night and then woke up the next morning with the remains of New Year’s Eve smeared under my eyes.
This year I decided I would be prepared for 2011.
Also I didn’t want to do work in the weeks leading up to Christmas so spent an awful lot of time staring into space, contemplating what I wanted to achieve next year (perhaps finding a new job should be on the list?!).
I have come up with a number of resolutions. Or not so much resolutions as just things that I want to achieve. Some are big, some are ridiculously small but all of them I think are important in their own ways. I hesitated before posting about them because I knew that the second I hit publish I was making a commitment and I could readily be held to account for any potential failure.
But I’m going to do it. I’m going to put this list up here. I’m going to give it a little page all of its own and I’ll cross them off as I do them and you, if you want to, can keep track.
So with a deep breath, the following I hope to achieve by the end of 2011:
1. Run a 5km race – most likely the Race for Life (and I don’t mean run for 5 minutes and then walk the rest of the way, I would like to keep moving at pace for the whole thing)
2. Crochet a Ripple blanket
3. Back up all my photos on to CD (this sounds ridiculous I know but if my laptop were to break, my gut-wrenching screams would be heard the world over, I have got to do this. Putting it on the list is the best way I can think of to galvanise me into action.)
4. Paint my frog (remember him? I need to get on that!)
5. Go to the cinema on my own (time and time and time again there are films I want to see that I never end up seeing because I can’t find someone to go with me or find the time when our schedules meet up. I need to just suck it up and go on my own.)
6. Complete Project 365 (take a photo every day, upload it on to Flickr, I get the feeling that it’s going to be quite the pain in the backside, but I’d like to document my year photographically as well as on the blog.)
7. Make an album/scrapbook of my photos from 2010’s trip to France. (I have everything I need, I just need to print the photos out and wield some glue)
8. Go over to Belfast to visit my family because I haven’t seen them in a ridiculously long time and it’s only over the freakin’ sea.
9. Read 12 classics throughout the year (having been faced with everything that I've read over the past year I feel it was a little too light on the heavyweights so I am resolving to expand my reading, and hopefully my brain, a little further in 2011)
10. Cross stitch at least one Christmas card each month (that way I’ll have made at least 12 cards by the time Christmas 2011 comes along and won’t feel like a complete crafty failure like I did this Christmas!)
So, you know, wish me luck?!
-------------------------------
Faced with people asking me on the spot I come up with something either entirely rubbish or generic or something which is never going to be achievable. I once swore that I would take my make-up off every single night and then woke up the next morning with the remains of New Year’s Eve smeared under my eyes.
This year I decided I would be prepared for 2011.
Also I didn’t want to do work in the weeks leading up to Christmas so spent an awful lot of time staring into space, contemplating what I wanted to achieve next year (perhaps finding a new job should be on the list?!).
I have come up with a number of resolutions. Or not so much resolutions as just things that I want to achieve. Some are big, some are ridiculously small but all of them I think are important in their own ways. I hesitated before posting about them because I knew that the second I hit publish I was making a commitment and I could readily be held to account for any potential failure.
But I’m going to do it. I’m going to put this list up here. I’m going to give it a little page all of its own and I’ll cross them off as I do them and you, if you want to, can keep track.
So with a deep breath, the following I hope to achieve by the end of 2011:
1. Run a 5km race – most likely the Race for Life (and I don’t mean run for 5 minutes and then walk the rest of the way, I would like to keep moving at pace for the whole thing)
2. Crochet a Ripple blanket
3. Back up all my photos on to CD (this sounds ridiculous I know but if my laptop were to break, my gut-wrenching screams would be heard the world over, I have got to do this. Putting it on the list is the best way I can think of to galvanise me into action.)
4. Paint my frog (remember him? I need to get on that!)
5. Go to the cinema on my own (time and time and time again there are films I want to see that I never end up seeing because I can’t find someone to go with me or find the time when our schedules meet up. I need to just suck it up and go on my own.)
6. Complete Project 365 (take a photo every day, upload it on to Flickr, I get the feeling that it’s going to be quite the pain in the backside, but I’d like to document my year photographically as well as on the blog.)
7. Make an album/scrapbook of my photos from 2010’s trip to France. (I have everything I need, I just need to print the photos out and wield some glue)
8. Go over to Belfast to visit my family because I haven’t seen them in a ridiculously long time and it’s only over the freakin’ sea.
9. Read 12 classics throughout the year (having been faced with everything that I've read over the past year I feel it was a little too light on the heavyweights so I am resolving to expand my reading, and hopefully my brain, a little further in 2011)
10. Cross stitch at least one Christmas card each month (that way I’ll have made at least 12 cards by the time Christmas 2011 comes along and won’t feel like a complete crafty failure like I did this Christmas!)
So, you know, wish me luck?!
-------------------------------
As you may or may not have guessed, this is a scheduled post that I set up a while ago (because I'm an organised freak) I'm currently not in Hull, but away with that person that I've said I'm not going to talk about on this blog, spending New Year with him. I shall be returning up North on 2nd January and will hopefully be blogging again after that.
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that reads and comments on this little ol' blog of mine - I love you in a very creepy and probably inappropriate way and look forward to continuing that creepy and inappropriate love in 2011.
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that reads and comments on this little ol' blog of mine - I love you in a very creepy and probably inappropriate way and look forward to continuing that creepy and inappropriate love in 2011.
Happy New Year!
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