Yes, I have essays. How did you guess?! Anyway, this is epic.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
The One
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gaid72fqzNE
I don't believe in The One. It annoys me when other people do, and give me pitying looks.
Maybe I'm the one who's wrong! Maybe I deserve the pitying looks...
Discuss.
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Running
I really miss running. I haven't run for a good few months now, and sadly the weather is no excuse since I have a gym membership- though the motivation to GO to the gym in the first place is admittedly lacking.
The thing is, whenever I lapsed before, I'd just force myself to go and I'd be back into it, absolutely loving it. I had to drop out of the half marathon I'd entered for February, and since then...nothing. No motivation whatsoever. I've been out maybe once, and it was hell, and I nearly threw up, and I hated it.
I don't know how to go about falling back in love with it. I don't think they do couples counselling for sports. But I wish they did. Any ideas? I miss it so much it sometimes hurts, but I just don't know how to re-find my love for it.
:(
The thing is, whenever I lapsed before, I'd just force myself to go and I'd be back into it, absolutely loving it. I had to drop out of the half marathon I'd entered for February, and since then...nothing. No motivation whatsoever. I've been out maybe once, and it was hell, and I nearly threw up, and I hated it.
I don't know how to go about falling back in love with it. I don't think they do couples counselling for sports. But I wish they did. Any ideas? I miss it so much it sometimes hurts, but I just don't know how to re-find my love for it.
:(
Friday, 9 January 2009
Apathy and lucky escapes.
Why are people so bloody unwilling to listen to professionals? Why do they take the easy route? Why do they think they're sodding immortal?
Say you thought you had something medically wrong with you. It turns out you don't have the serious thing you were worried about, but instead you have something else wrong with you which can be easily fixed through better diet and more exercise. What do you do? You make a deal with the doctor that you'll do more exercise (any exercise, actually, since you do absolutely fuck all, but you don't let him know that) if he gives you statins.
On the surface, this is a great idea. Exercise, statins. Problem (hopefully) solved. Except that as you nod and smile and say "oh yes, 30 mins exercise 5 times a week, yes, of course", what you're actually thinking is "ha, no bloody way...I'll just rely on the drugs, that'll be fine".
And when someone else later suggests that you actually bloody DO the exercise, you whine that you don't have time to exercise. Except that in December you spent about 20 hours carrying out a hobby that does not raise your heart rate enough to constitute exercise. That's about 10 hours more than the 30 mins of real exercise 5 times a week would take up. So clearly you do have time.
It's called sacrifice.
And then you come out with the classic line "But I can't". I have said this myself, before, and it was pointed out that I am not that special. I am a human and am built to move, to raise my heart rate and function properly. I can exercise. So can you.
"But I don't like exercise." How do you fucking know?! When was the last time you exercised? Oh, when you were 16? Well, that's only 42 years ago, I'm sure you're exactly the same person you were then! Maybe in 42 years something's changed. Maybe it was simply the classic dislike of team sports that you were forced to try at school. There are SO many other ways of getting fit that don't involve running round a freezing cold field in shorts kicking a bit of pig-skin. Don't be so ignorant.
"Oh, we'll probably buy a cross-trainer or something." Don't fucking bother. You won't use it, just like you won't change your diet, you won't drink less, you won't stop to wonder why the doctor suggested you do these things. What his motive might have been. Oh, I don't know, maybe it could be an attempt to stop you dying?
Oh, not a big deal. Fair enough.
Say you thought you had something medically wrong with you. It turns out you don't have the serious thing you were worried about, but instead you have something else wrong with you which can be easily fixed through better diet and more exercise. What do you do? You make a deal with the doctor that you'll do more exercise (any exercise, actually, since you do absolutely fuck all, but you don't let him know that) if he gives you statins.
On the surface, this is a great idea. Exercise, statins. Problem (hopefully) solved. Except that as you nod and smile and say "oh yes, 30 mins exercise 5 times a week, yes, of course", what you're actually thinking is "ha, no bloody way...I'll just rely on the drugs, that'll be fine".
And when someone else later suggests that you actually bloody DO the exercise, you whine that you don't have time to exercise. Except that in December you spent about 20 hours carrying out a hobby that does not raise your heart rate enough to constitute exercise. That's about 10 hours more than the 30 mins of real exercise 5 times a week would take up. So clearly you do have time.
It's called sacrifice.
And then you come out with the classic line "But I can't". I have said this myself, before, and it was pointed out that I am not that special. I am a human and am built to move, to raise my heart rate and function properly. I can exercise. So can you.
"But I don't like exercise." How do you fucking know?! When was the last time you exercised? Oh, when you were 16? Well, that's only 42 years ago, I'm sure you're exactly the same person you were then! Maybe in 42 years something's changed. Maybe it was simply the classic dislike of team sports that you were forced to try at school. There are SO many other ways of getting fit that don't involve running round a freezing cold field in shorts kicking a bit of pig-skin. Don't be so ignorant.
"Oh, we'll probably buy a cross-trainer or something." Don't fucking bother. You won't use it, just like you won't change your diet, you won't drink less, you won't stop to wonder why the doctor suggested you do these things. What his motive might have been. Oh, I don't know, maybe it could be an attempt to stop you dying?
Oh, not a big deal. Fair enough.
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Christmas
It's predictable, yes, but I would honestly like to wish you little lot a very happy Christmas. I hope you've had good days, and will enjoy the next few too.
Two of the many many highlights of my day (I got so many amazing presents):
A rhyme which was on the gift tag of a present from a certain friend; his family have a tradition whereby each gift is adorned with a rhyme/riddle that describes either the person it's for, or the object enclosed within. It's the first time in 8 years of friendship that I have been honoured enough to get a riddle! So I thought I would share it with you...here it is:
In 40 years, when you are old
(if I may be quite so bold)
when you have a housewife been
to the needs of children seen
then from this you'd take a sip
and as it passed across your lip
you would think "how right for me!
This housewife drink that I here see!"
By now you will have guessed, I fear,
what lies within the paper here.
So all I say is raise a glass
to 8 years forward
and 8 years past.
And another highlight- my aunt and uncle and cousins gave me some beautiful bracelets, and they wrapped the box in French newspapers, and string- they told me they'd saved a special page for me, and this was it:
And now I shall go back to watching Doctor Who! Best wishes to you and yours.
When the days are the shortest, the nights are the coldest,
The frost is the sharpest, the year is the oldest,
The sun is the weakest, the wind is the hardest,
The snow is the deepest, the skies are the darkest,
Then polish your whiskers and tidy your nest,
And dress in your richest and finest and best...
For Winter has brought you the worst it can bring,
And now it will give you
The promise of Spring!
Two of the many many highlights of my day (I got so many amazing presents):
A rhyme which was on the gift tag of a present from a certain friend; his family have a tradition whereby each gift is adorned with a rhyme/riddle that describes either the person it's for, or the object enclosed within. It's the first time in 8 years of friendship that I have been honoured enough to get a riddle! So I thought I would share it with you...here it is:
In 40 years, when you are old
(if I may be quite so bold)
when you have a housewife been
to the needs of children seen
then from this you'd take a sip
and as it passed across your lip
you would think "how right for me!
This housewife drink that I here see!"
By now you will have guessed, I fear,
what lies within the paper here.
So all I say is raise a glass
to 8 years forward
and 8 years past.
And another highlight- my aunt and uncle and cousins gave me some beautiful bracelets, and they wrapped the box in French newspapers, and string- they told me they'd saved a special page for me, and this was it:
And now I shall go back to watching Doctor Who! Best wishes to you and yours.
When the days are the shortest, the nights are the coldest,
The frost is the sharpest, the year is the oldest,
The sun is the weakest, the wind is the hardest,
The snow is the deepest, the skies are the darkest,
Then polish your whiskers and tidy your nest,
And dress in your richest and finest and best...
For Winter has brought you the worst it can bring,
And now it will give you
The promise of Spring!
Tuesday, 16 December 2008
Love, actually?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/edinburgh_and_east/7784366.stm
I am swamped by essays, so I will simply ask you to read, and tell me what you think!
I am swamped by essays, so I will simply ask you to read, and tell me what you think!
Friday, 28 November 2008
Cosmopolitan
I know, I know...two blog posts in as many hours, bad me!
Anyway, I have a confession to make. My name is Claire, and I have an addiction to glossy magazines. Company, Elle, Glamour...but especially Cosmopolitan. This is the one magazine that is universally hated by men, and I can be oh-so-cynical about the women who read these magazines, but to my shame, I am one of them. I just love the mindless laziness of curling up with a cup of tea and 304 pages of girlyness.
However. I just laughed myself silly at an article in the December edition. Sadly it's not online so I shall have to type up bits from it...
All I want for Christmas...
...isn't a boyfriend, thank you very much, says Tracy Ramsden.
Okay, fair play. Christmas is a time of couples and love, and sometimes it's bloody depressing to be single.
...But the more I thought about it, the angrier I felt about the negative messages dropped on us during December. There'll be the obligatory EastEnders scenes where the latest Albert Square dumpee drowns their sorrows in a whisky glass, and newspaper articles banging on about how to 'survive' the loneliest time of year, all because there's this myth that single equals miserable. But the truth it, it's not 2001 anymore and Bridget Jones is long gone. Single girls won't be spending Christmas day alone in their PJs and a crumped up paper hat watching The Vicar of Dibley with a bottle of wine and a family pack of mince pies.
At this point, I was thinking "yeah! Girl power!" and other 90s catchphrases...
...And Christmas is the season of hope. While your coupled-up friends have Christmas all planned out, we have no idea where we'll be or even who we'll be waking up with. And that's got to be more exciting than arguing with your boyfriend over who's going to stuff the turkey.
Er, right, because all couples argue over such things...but never mind, she's still being positive and advocating being happily single...
If you can rise above the niggles, you'll see Christmas really is a time for giving and recieving (phone numbers, hopefully!).
Wait, what? Suddenly she is planning to hook up with a man for Christmas? I thought she didn't
want a man...and so the backtracking and confusion begins...
I once met a cute guy (who I later dated) after he let me wear his jacket in a freezing-cold taxi queue. You see, you never know who might pop out of your cracker!
...Aaaaand it's all over. She has predictably slipped straight back into "never mind dear, you'll find someone soon. He'll probably be a drunk twat who will eventually break your heart, but hey, it's better than being alone at Christmas!" mindset that characterises Cosmopolitan writers. And then, the article ends with an absolute gem:
Next month: Tracy goes in search of Mr January!
Ugh. Clearly this woman is distinctly unhappy being single, but for the sake of pop-feminism, has tried (and failed) to make it seem like not having a boyfriend is great!
Newsflash, people. Being single can be great. Being in a relationship can be great. Being single can be shit. Being in a relationship can be shit. And now I'm off to read my christmas horoscope with extra added lovescope!!!111!!1!1!oneone111!!
Anyway, I have a confession to make. My name is Claire, and I have an addiction to glossy magazines. Company, Elle, Glamour...but especially Cosmopolitan. This is the one magazine that is universally hated by men, and I can be oh-so-cynical about the women who read these magazines, but to my shame, I am one of them. I just love the mindless laziness of curling up with a cup of tea and 304 pages of girlyness.
However. I just laughed myself silly at an article in the December edition. Sadly it's not online so I shall have to type up bits from it...
All I want for Christmas...
...isn't a boyfriend, thank you very much, says Tracy Ramsden.
Okay, fair play. Christmas is a time of couples and love, and sometimes it's bloody depressing to be single.
...But the more I thought about it, the angrier I felt about the negative messages dropped on us during December. There'll be the obligatory EastEnders scenes where the latest Albert Square dumpee drowns their sorrows in a whisky glass, and newspaper articles banging on about how to 'survive' the loneliest time of year, all because there's this myth that single equals miserable. But the truth it, it's not 2001 anymore and Bridget Jones is long gone. Single girls won't be spending Christmas day alone in their PJs and a crumped up paper hat watching The Vicar of Dibley with a bottle of wine and a family pack of mince pies.
At this point, I was thinking "yeah! Girl power!" and other 90s catchphrases...
...And Christmas is the season of hope. While your coupled-up friends have Christmas all planned out, we have no idea where we'll be or even who we'll be waking up with. And that's got to be more exciting than arguing with your boyfriend over who's going to stuff the turkey.
Er, right, because all couples argue over such things...but never mind, she's still being positive and advocating being happily single...
If you can rise above the niggles, you'll see Christmas really is a time for giving and recieving (phone numbers, hopefully!).
Wait, what? Suddenly she is planning to hook up with a man for Christmas? I thought she didn't
want a man...and so the backtracking and confusion begins...
I once met a cute guy (who I later dated) after he let me wear his jacket in a freezing-cold taxi queue. You see, you never know who might pop out of your cracker!
...Aaaaand it's all over. She has predictably slipped straight back into "never mind dear, you'll find someone soon. He'll probably be a drunk twat who will eventually break your heart, but hey, it's better than being alone at Christmas!" mindset that characterises Cosmopolitan writers. And then, the article ends with an absolute gem:
Next month: Tracy goes in search of Mr January!
Ugh. Clearly this woman is distinctly unhappy being single, but for the sake of pop-feminism, has tried (and failed) to make it seem like not having a boyfriend is great!
Newsflash, people. Being single can be great. Being in a relationship can be great. Being single can be shit. Being in a relationship can be shit. And now I'm off to read my christmas horoscope with extra added lovescope!!!111!!1!1!oneone111!!
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