Waffle cake creator and lover of all things purple

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West Sussex, United Kingdom

Friday, 29 March 2013

Willpower? I "Lent" it out

Oooooph. I am finding it exponentially torturous to not chow down upon the silky brown deliciousness of my forbidden chocolatey life partner. Chocolate and I shall be forever entwined in a firey love/hate emotional tango. I hate to love it and I love to hate it.

The countdown clock to Easter Sunday is at just under 2 days, and they are the shaping up to be the longest days of my life, in no small part down to being a technologically savvy drunkface who bought a massive high sleeper bed online without thinking about how to transport it home or, more crucially, whether it will even fit in my Harry Potteresque living space, under the stairs.

***long sigh*****

This has been my most bountiful Easter, in terms of edible prolate spheroids, since being spoilt by the “vicar's daughter” chocolately cash/egg cow of my childhood. I have had to implement a “Draw of Guilt” where I have hidden the work based donations (each with their accompanying post-it notes of support/torment for holding out on my melty true love for nearly 6 weeks) and a “Car-boot of Wanton Desire” where I have currently encased my larger, more seductive chocolate naughties.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I've done well with giving up chocolate this far.
I just don't focus on it anymore. In fact, I can barely focus on anything anymore, since replacing chocolate with week-day wine and excessive cake consumption. Oooops.

Frustratingly, I just know that, come 00:01 on the Sunday morning, I will be face gap deep in a sick inducing gorgefest. In fact, it's suddenly occurred to me that we are losing an hour this weekend and therefore, perhaps, as I've been such a good girl, that maybe I can start at 11pm on Saturday instead? No? Pfffffft. Spoil sport.

On a completely unrelated note, ahem, I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that have, what *some* might consider, a “bit of a problem”.

Work colleagues are even starting to make comment about my completely uncontrollable expression of physical pain and almost tangible distress that emote "all about my baaaaaad self (brap brap)" when I forgo my diabetes kickstart treats for a day. Apparently, I made reference to cake about 20 times during one period of withdrawal. How tedious is that?! Ooooooh the shame. My office is always a hotbed beautifully homemade sugar filth too, which really doesn't help. (Just look at the cake someone made for paddy mcguiness day!)

So I'm taking hold of my "bit of a problem", tightly round it's sugar lumps, and will dominate the calories out of it , right into healthy submission.

My colleague and I are embarking upon the noble(idiotic) quest to completely rebuke and discard cake/chocs/sweets/treats/joy from our lives in the first week of May, just to see if we can.

I know, right? I'm the catalyst of fun.
****another long sigh******
Will power is hard :o(

Thursday, 28 March 2013

Late Night Blog Shift

Oh um, hi, 2am.
Didn't expect to see you here? Er yeah. Been a while huh?
I mean week nights? Really? I thought we were over all this silliness? Yeah I'm sorry we haven't met up in a while too, but you can't just turn up on a school night and expect me to pick up where we left off. I've moved on. Midnight and I are going steady now. I can't even imagine staying out when I could be in bed, by midnight, almost every night! (the saucy little minx).
I know this is a unique scenario, what with it being a leaving do with work colleagues, but in a way that makes this even harder. 7 coronas can't fix this for us, even if my colleagues say it could work out. We just don't get on in that way. You always seem to change into 3 and, in the worst case scenarios, 4am the next day! I can't even recognise you. And you aren't getting the best of me either. You're looking at a girl who impulse bought a 84" high loft bed frame that probably won't fit through the halway, let alone in the flat. Look, even the laziness in my eye comes out when we meet up.

We are a toxic combination.

Drunk me, there. On the late night blog shift.
Thanks for your, er, contribution. Oh. And for the little "gift" of dehydration, remorse, and a rather large (both in terms of physical size and financial commitment) ebay purchase you've left me to sort out today.

Drunk me is a twat.

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Party like it's 1992.

How did parties even happen in 1992 without facebook invites and twitter hashtags? Anyway, I digress (already. This doesn't bode well)

For those of you not in the know, I decided, as of Tuesday 20th March, to give up on social networking until Easter.

Nearly a week in, and all I want to know is where I can get my methadone equivalent of instant validation? I miss having an open forum for ideas through chatting to old friends and insulting new ones. I miss the passive and dilute accreditation a "like" or "share" imparts. I even miss those ridiculously mundane "greeting card quotes" and that old chap out of original trek space frontier whatsit.

I have enforced a detachment from the succulent bosom of digital social interaction in an attempt to push myself into doing wondrous things with all that time I'll save.


Sadly, the quality communication I was striving to rekindle as part of this initiative, has encountered a *couple* of hiccups. In the supermarket last week, I was interrupted mid cake quandary by "is this the naughty isle then?" from a gent who was, as it was later pointed out by my more astute friendshapes, probably wanting my assistance with an entirely different kind of "what's for desert?" Dilemma. Awkward.

Even the simple act of paying at the checkout was a bit of a farce. You know that glazed look of boredom and impatience you reserve for overly talkative shop assistants and the X-factor? Well I ended up on the painful end of that look after a conversation a kin to:
"Ooooh I'm really looking forward to this bottle of wine. It's a bit more expensive than the ones I'd usually go for, but I saw it there, with all it's awards and shiny labels and thought what the hey. I struggled picking a desert too. [This content has been removed to prevent catatonic boredom].... which is why I bought them both. Oh!.... Erm.....I'm sorry for going on, it's been a really quiet day at the office."
Yep. I apologised to sales assistant for rogering my brain tedium right up her. New low, right there. Well, it was, until I accidentally elbowed a pregnant woman right in the foetus at the weekend. But that's another story.

By Thursday, I was sleep by 10 as the airless vacuum of time that faced me was a bit too much to digest in one oppressive turdlump of empty.

Thankfully, Friday arrived and I finally remembered I have wine, er... friends! Proper 3D ones with houses, and movies and corkscrews and everything. I would like to say that I recalled the rest of the evening but I ended up filling my wine bottle with air in less than 2 hours and then "celebrated" by sending text based head dribble via blogger and SMS at god-earsnoseandthoat o'clock on Saturday morning. Oooops

Looks like the "wondrous things" I'd planned to achieve sans Facebook is going on hold for now.

Friday, 22 March 2013

Friday! all up in your George Forman! innit though, A RhD positive!

I have made what can, in all honesty, be labelled in the most broadest of terms as a fox pase:

(Ok. This works better in person as you would (as an astute, erudite and witty {[oh ok you got me, middle class] friend of mine} notice that a) I have polished off an entire bottle of 2001 Rioja Reserve to myself in less that 2 hours {mainly due to the glassware detritus I have left for you to recycle [because I can't be bollocked to] in your house} and b) this is a skit I do about "faux pas" allllllll the chocolateloving damned time)

Have not only forgotten how the hell grammar works, but I have also decided to leave my car at my friend's house so I can have a bit of a drinkipoo.

This plan (or flan, as you might accidentally type as a mildly intoxicated and carb addicted individual) is floored in ever so many ways.

Firstly, the metal death machine is now at least 3 miles walk away. Now this route is brightened by the presence of at least 12 licensed premises:

({alcohol licensed, not fishing rod licences or something. Although I'm pretty sure you're running late on those guys, so, you know. Renew at your local post office . http://www.postoffice.co.uk/rod-fishing-licence
[just check out those super duper air drowning benefits]}.
Well, I didn't count them exactly, but I certainly took a fairly accurate estimate of how many of these establishments *may* have screw-top wine bottles. This was after I decided, a few weeks back, my jog that way *might* be slightly easier if I took my trusty corkscrew out of my bag. {Only about 7 of the 12 do screw tops, just incase you're interested})

Which also lines the beautiful sussex countryside. Yet, last time I did the walk (alone and at night, I might add) I was haunted by two white clad hooded youths, clearly looking for ghoulish trouble in their ghostly realm, who stared errirly out from a 1st floor window, and some teenage rapscallions who seemed to brandish half drunk litre bottles of strong spirits, in brain mashing glass vessels, which terrorised the most dangerous level crossing, *engage clarkson* in....this....gaaaaaalaxy. I was a bit scared/old.

Yet, the main bastard of this narrative resides in the fact that I have to overtime at work tomorrow and I have (at the very least) got a 45 min excruciatingly hungover walk/stagger required to collect my leg saving husk of dinosaur guzzling mayhem during tomorrow's A to the M

Who the frickidy frick thought that would be a good idea? Oh yeah. The super snazzy "multi award winning" shiny label of lovely red stuff. I remember. Bastard.

Man. That's a long winded way of saying, "fuck! I need my car in the morning and I'm going to have the most horrific, self induced and lonely hangover.

I should probably get it *oooooon* (is that what people say now PJ and Duncan are no longer rap god heroes?) with some cool as ice bit of H2"motherrespecting"0 about my Godfearing bad self.




I forgot to disengage Clarkson!!

Quick! Everyone say something about equal pay for females. That ought to sort it!

Sunday, 17 February 2013

Wakey wakey!

I'm back. I decided to do writing stuff again YAY. It's been a heck of a while since I have put time aside to get my thoughts down on paper, or erm, uploaded and globally accessible on the digiverse.

 Honestly. Back in my day if someone so much as saw the cover of your inner head warble book you'd be mortified, but now if you don't get some emoticon based form of recognition from your old primary teacher and your friend's puddy cat's social media presence you feel like a failure.

I feel like popularity, and the constant strive for it, has increased in intensity later in life, and that the digital age of instant procrastination has played a fundamental role.

For one, there are more areas of competition as you grow up. Family / relationships / career / possessions / achievements / physical appearance / finances / intelligence. The list of things that one strives to achieve "first" or "best" seems to grow exponentially with what I have decided to refer to as "experience". ( I'm getting quite touchy about -AGE- urgh. This year marks a milestone birthday. more on that at a later date.)

 The "keeping up with the jones'" effect has been prominent in society for as long as I recall, but I think social media had enabled this to reach disgustingly dizzy heights. With news streams full of scan photos, holiday snaps, new job updates, relationship statuses and "how much do you know about theoretical physics, I bet it's less than me, you idiot" quizzes, is it any wonder that people feel pressured into conforming with their peers? I know I have fallen victim to it too. I feel genuinely put out if people haven't enjoyed something i consider a bit quirky or witty I've shared on my Facebook. (Don't worry though, it's a rare occasion where I don't get recognition for my genius). Just yesterday I took a quiz "how many words do you know" because a comedian, whom I've not even seen perform, posted that according to the quiz they knew 45,000 and I wanted to see how I compared. (Worse, annoyingly)

 I just worry that our need to "upload" and "update" can have a negative affect on self esteem. Not everyone can afford holidays. Not everyone can get pregnant. Not everyone has found their special someone. The constant stream of "look what I've done, I'm doing life right" can create a falsified pressure on individuals within social circles to comply. Ever noticed how you seem to have one wedding after the next to go to? Or how many "congrats on your new parasitic life form" cards you send out in quick succession? Seeing others in your social circle achieving in certain areas tends to instigate these actions and milestones in your own life.

20 years ago, your social circle would include a few of the people you knew growing up, or who live near you, or you work with. With the addition of social networking, your circle can include people who share an interest from all over the world, people who your mum's friend used to babysit that one time, even people who just have the same name as you because, wow you're so RAD n'that. We are receiving social pressure from people we don't even know.

 This has even become evident in how celebrities have evolved from secretive god like apparitions, to flawed, needy children vying for attention. The pressure to have the most digi-stalkers, most "likes" "shares" etc has hit most areas of society, encouraging all people, from your next door neighbour, your local MP right up to, I don't know, NDUBS? to divulge areas of their private lives in the hope of receiving recognition and to feel validated.

I'm not saying we shouldn't share our precious news and achievements online, but I think we a) shouldn't feel compelled to
and b) we should be aware of our motivations behind it.
Sharing news via social media because distance is a factor between you and your friend is slightly different to deliberately posting about a new romance hoping your cheating scumbag of an ex sees how much better off you are without them, or showing off your promotion to people who doubted you. Not that I've done that of course. *awkward*

I think we should also try and remember that "just because everyone else has, doesn't mean we should". Being the best "you" is what we should all strive for. Not to tick off milestones because everyone else has.

Anyway. That's the end of my little rant. I shall attempt a more light hearted blog next time :-)

Saturday, 7 May 2011

~:: 'AV it, you slaaaaag ::~

(now there's a headline the Sun will be gutted they didn't think of :-p )

Part 1: wednesday night waffle

Hiya. I hope you haven't been waiting long. I just got a bit, well, caught up with things.

I am lying in bed, with over 2 nights worth of sleeplessness boring into my very core, whilst battling with the stark realisation that if I want to do my civic duty tomorrow, I need to be out the house before 7am. For tomorrow is the vote for the right for votes to be counted right night (or day if you wish to be more abstract in your poetic structural form....and accurate). I know this is important and that if I don't go, I don't earn the right to voice an opinion about political decisions in the future, but.... I really need some sleep.

Sleep has managed to elude me for the past few nights. Maybe it's the pressures of my job, maybe it's the obscene amount of chocolate I accidentally consumed before remembering that chocolate is full of caffeine, sugar and regret... Who knows. All I know right now is my "Bubbliness",
( which I can only assume is the envy of skinnyminnies everywhere as I have not once heard a chickstick describe herself as "bubbly" (look... Being bubbly is fun, and fun things make me smile, and smiling burns more calories, ok? Ask anyone)) <--- (hehe that looks like a double chin!....erm....anwho..)
, has become a lot less bubble and much more bitch. I am a complete nightmare to be around right now. I'm kinda wishing the BFG was real so he could lock me away with all the other bad dreams until i learn my lesson.


Part 2: Saturday morning remorse

Today is now Saturday. I wrote the above on Wednesday night, back when I still believed this country gave a damn about fairness and innovative ways to achieve it.

I have seen the result of the av and I am completely shocked that only a third of voters wanted to see their votes count for something. Even Brighton, the first elected green seat in national elections, voted No. It's painfully ironic though, as I believe there were only 450ish votes in it. This is where your vote counted to make future votes count. I am tired of my vote being worth nothing based on the fact I live in a blue zone.

This is the nail in the coffin for liberal representation in the current political decision making process. I am strongly opposed to the lib dem u-turn on education but the coalition means there is an additional level of discussions that needs to be entered into before the tories can legally "get their laaaaw, ov'a our countr'e" (see edl march anthem on YouTube to appreciate reference)

This political kick in the face for a liberal (fair and correct) way of counting votes has weakened the UK's faith in what the lib dem side of the government can achieve. This is a bad thing, and worries me. I can't currently see how the lib dems can recover from this.

It is looking very much like the blues have won the battle and the war.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iWaffle

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Fat Tuesday on a Monday - Previews

I truly have no idea where to start with this. I was completely blown away by the performances of both comedians last night, that I’m struggling to find a way to structure my thoughts.

Kevin Eldon. How the hell can you sum that man up in a few measly words?
I will start by saying he is definitely a face of comedy rather than a brand name. A surprising number of (sub par) people will not necessarily recognise him by name, but show them a photograph of the chap and they will be able list a whole ream of Kevin's comedy gold appearances.

Most notable, to me at least, is his collaborations with Bill Bailey, both in live performance and in shows such as Black Books. The two of them play off each other like a beam of light reflected off a watch face, teasing the audience with their brilliance much like you can tease an over excited kitten with a blob of sunshine.

I arrived a little early to Fat Tuesday’s Monday Special. On my rather tedious journey, I had decided to personally name the evening "Morbidly Obese Monday", but then realised it sounded more like a government funded awareness campaign or Gok Wan’s new TV series than an amusing play the original title of the evening, so decided to keep my new made up name for the evening a secret. Wise move on my part.

Arriving early to an event quite often happens to me when travelling over 50 miles to see a bucket load of funnies. Luckily, Rosie and Tiernan are lovely and let me sit upstairs to stay out of trouble. Kevin arrived soon after, laden with a bag of mystery and a guitar. Whilst he set up, he let slip that this was his very first preview of his very first solo show. He seemed genuinely nervous about sharing his newly written show-child with a room, soon to be filled with 60 paid up audience members, all ravenous for quality entertainment. Reflecting back, the reality of performing untested works in front of people who've paid to see it must be terrifying.
Tiernan reassured Kevin that the Fat Tuesday crowd of attendees are well versed in the way of “The Preview” and that on the whole, we are all good eggs.

The mob of giggle starved individuals started to take to their seats, eagerly awaiting their gargantuan feast of comical genius. I hadn’t been this excited about a show for months. I try not to get too full of bubbly anticipation, just in case my expectations of awesome and wonderment end up being greeted by the stale, desiccated pangs of disappointment, but I just couldn’t help it. Kevin Eldon! I have wanted to see this guy strut his funky stuff for years and now I get to be a part of the “First Preview” experience. I sat there, trying to reposition my expectations to an achievable level, before anxiously awaiting kevin to bring the magic.

I am not going to talk about the show for fear of spoilers but WOW can that man BRING IT! His nerves seemed to melt into nothingness and the multitalented man of many voices, delivered a practically seamless show of highly intelligent and witty spheres of utter genius. We were hit with musical interludes, intellectual musings, terrifyingly accurate impressions; it was an honour to behold, and one which you should all seek out. Go! Go now!

The second preview of the evening was performed by the loveliest of ladies, Tara Flynn.

Tara is a miniature whirlwind of Irish charm and beauty. She has melted many a chocolate lover’s heart as the voice of the Caramel Bunny in Ireland, recorded sketches for Stewart Lee’s comedy vehicle and more recently entertained students / housewives / layabouts with her rather saucy character performance on the daytime soap opera Doctors.

I have seen Tara perform a number of times at the London Comedy Improv, but this is the first time I'd seen her perform her own show, and more surprisingly, the first time I'd ever seen her sing.

For her new show “Big Noise”, she has returned to her original comedy roots and written an abundance of quality songs, each with a clever and insightful twist of humour. Tara seemed a little bit nervous, which may have led to the occasional stumble over links, but the quality of her song performance was outstanding. As soon as the musical introduction started, you could feel her passion for the song devour the whole room. Throughout the show, Tara demonstrated her envious ability to adopt and dominate a range of different musical styles ranging from 80’s throwback to varying parodies of modern day musical embarrassments. The songs were accompanied by a wave of satirical dance routines which were theatrically performed with all the vigour and gusto of someone who is truly in love with what they do. It’s incredibly refreshing to see a comedian/musician who graces the stage with such fervour for their art. The room was incredibly hot, which started to affect tara’s voice slightly towards the end, but I can honestly say I have not heard a live performance with such a rich and luxurious vocal tone for quite some time.

If you like songs by the likes of Bill Bailey, you will love Tara’s show. Please go and see it when you visit the Fringe festival this year.

I really love seeing the Edinburgh previews. They are a delight to witness as you get to see things evolve and grow whilst feeling like an important part of it.

The Fat Tuesday team are playing host to a number of previews on the run up to August. Do check out their website for further details.