Real Life... Blah... Who Needs It?

Ok, so I'm in my final year of university. Six months and I'll be off the party treadmill and onto something a little more serious. Joy. I had no objections to being neither rich nor famous but apparently in this day and age it is a requirement that the youth of the world make a name for themselves - or at least achieve something more than the "Most Drunk Person Last Night" award (which I am granted most weeks. Can I help it if I am an overachiever?).

It sounds ridiculous but after almost five years dossing about at Party Central I don't feel ready to leave. Surely I should be ready to be a grown up. Surely I should want to have a job, have money, have responsibility...?

Ha! No. Not a chance in hell! I do not want ANY of these things. I think I've spent so long acting like a teenager that I'm not ready to let it go yet. There is so much immaturity to be had still and the real world expects you to relinquish that playful innocence and act like an upstanding member of the community.

I think there are a number of things I will miss most about university:

1) Getting up at 3pm and then having a nap at 7pm

2) Eating dinner at 1am

3) Drinking at 11am without stigma

4) Falling through the back door after lectures wasted

5) Eating toast for every meal

6) Wasting a whole day on Facebook and thinking nothing of it

7) Listening to music so loud it reverberates nextdoors walls

8) Going to the takeaway at least three times a week

9) Only getting dressed twice a week, when you actually have to be somewhere

10) Waking up at 5am to a housefull of drunk people

I'll miss other things too. Like no one even batting an eyelid when you turn up at a club dressed as a pirate, a disney character, a baywatch babe, a moll...

Or getting so wasted you pass out at six o'clock in the evening and your friends take photographic evidence so they can laugh at you the next day.

University is often described as a stepping stone to the next part of your life. For me this is how I want the REST of my life to be. What's not to like? Ok so the money is crap and I hate writing essays but even so the rest of it is grand. I'm the original Van Wilder. I'm Peter Pan. I don't ever want to grow up. Ok, I can do without the trail of lost boy's looking for a mother figure but beggers can't be choosers, right? Hell if it keeps me in this bubble I'll take the kids, I'll fight the pirate and I'll save the day. I'll even learn how to fly and wear tights. It's a small sacrifice.

I think this is harder because most of my friends are first or second years. There are only three or four of us graduating this summer. So whilst we're off having a Stepford perfect life complete with briefcase, an office with a view and the dead husband under the patio they'll still be doing the childish running around at 3am and rearranging traffic cones.

My Green-Eyed Monster is snarling at the thought of it.

Seasonal Greetings

Christmas and New Year... Weird holidays. When you're a kid things are so much more exciting, there is a kind of magic to the whole period. I hate that age brings that loss of innocence. Whilst I enjoyed going home and spending time with my family, I felt like the whole thing just went too quickly. It's nearly time for University to start again and back into the long haul for my final year and really all I want to do is sleep all day.

But enough moaning.

Roll on 2008. Let's hope this year brings many more good memories than last.

Holiday Entitlement

As a casual worker at the museum, I was informed this morning that I am entitled to holiday pay. My initial thought was a resounding yippee! Money for doing bugger all is always good. However upon trying to decipher what the hell the conditions of this payment are I was left feeling rather bewildered. Working for the Council has both advantages and disadvantages - the main problem being that bureaucracy extends to all levels, even catering.

Seriously the letter is written like a solicitors case file. I'm sure I'm entitled to a whole load of money but how much I think will remain one of those mysteries, filed away with aliens and pixies.

I'm hoping my boss will shed some light on it. Would be lovely to get some dosh before Christmas.

Fishfinger Sandwich Anyone?

I'm not entirely sure when it got to the point were fishfinger sandwiches were considered a delicious cuisine. Maybe I missed the memo on that one. However, according to my housemate it is tres bien. I believe that remains to be seen and since it's something I will never try... well it will never be seen.

She's in a slightly more diabolical financial state than myself and was rather impressed by the fact £3.00 at Sainsburys buys five packets of fishfingers and a loaf of bread. Apparently this shopping trip will keep her going for the next few weeks. I raised a brow at this.

It wouldn't keep me going for an hour.

And I would rather eat gravel. Fishfingers are like eating boiled bones.

It got me to thinking about the weird things I have eaten as a student. Mash is a staple food. Seriously, its fluffy goodness that comes in powder form. Excellent. But my menu has ranged from rice with ketchup in to tinned curry on toast. Not so weird when you consider a friend of mine who tried to make a cooking sauce using milk. Not only gross but highly ineffective. It tastes rank. Don't try it.

It's nearly as bad as a girl I knew who dipped toast in hot chocolate. This wasn't a poverty thing but a taste preference. Either way, it still turns my stomach a little just thinking about it, but then I have put soup in a tortilla before. Not quite Mexican, and incredibly messy, but still, it did the trick.

Stereotyping.. Redneck Americans...?

Well what prompted this was a link I was sent about a TV quiz show in America, staring Kelly Pickler from American Idol.

Its one of these wonderfully droll programmes about whether or not a 10 yr old kid is smarter than an adult. So I dutifully watched the video and laughed a lot. The question was... 'Budapest is the capital of what European country?"

Naturally, before the woman had answered, I muttered 'Hungary' under my breath. Simple question, easy answer. But the woman was clueless. Her initial undoing was when she said, '...I thought Europe was a country." Ooook, so that really made me laugh. She then dug herself a bigger hole by saying '...I know they speak French there... I wanna say is France a country...?"

I proceeded to titter for several moments, watched the end of the clip and then scrolled down to see what the comments were. I have to say I was a little shocked by the response. Ok, so clearly the woman is uneducated but even so the comments were awful. Three pages worth of America bashing, slandering of 'redneck' Americans and so forth followed.

It got me to thinking - as things often do - and as always I intend to share my opinion, whether or not it is wanted.

Her ignorance is not the only ignorance here. Naturally the Hungarian's were pissed off that this woman didn't know where their country was but even so, their responses were somewhat uncalled for. Not every person from the United States is stupid, nor are all southerners rednecks. Do they not have some of the most prestigious universities in the world over there? Stanford, Princeton, Harvard? Surely the people who attend these places have an IQ higher than an amoeba.

It is no different from saying all Brits talk like the Queen and drink tea all the time. It is that kind of stereotyping that leads to half the problems in the world these days. Clearly the woman needs to go to school or at least pick up a text book but these stereotypes are as stupid as her thinking Europe is a country.

Here is the video anyway.

Technology...

Technology and old people.

It should seriously be a comedy on the television. There is nothing quite so funny as watching a technologically incompetent person trying to work any electrical appliance, ranging from remote controls, VCRs, DVDs (or CDVs as they have become known in some households), sky TV, and my personal favourite, Mobile Phones. There is actually nothing in this world to compare to the humour that can be achieved by watching a techno-phob trying to text someone. It goes beyond the pale of good comedy value and right into the side splittingly hilarious.

Even more amusing is watching them trying to decipher what text language actually means. You are forced to wait for a week for a reply because they cant even remember how to open their inbox and you end up with a reply a month later saying. "What does that mean? Will you be back for tea or not?", at which point you're cursing yourself for not ringing them and wasting a text message.

However, that said, even when you do ring them, you have to do it about seven times whilst they try to remember which key is the one that picks the phone up (hint for those who don't know, its usually the green telephone. Don't branch to phones that don't have this key, you're only making life hard on yourself).

The best thing i have seen is the military operation that is trying to record something off the TV. Whether its some shitty documentary or some crappy film made before you were even a twinkle in your parents eyes, I'm almost distressed by the amount of effort that is going into trying to commit that heap of shit onto tape when really it shouldn't even be broadcasted on TV in the first place. But that's another story altogether. Either way, it is almost frustrating to the point of wanting to rip your own arm off, frustrating.

Step one is as follows:

Locating the subject matter

This is basically the stage you and I would call finding the correct channel you wish to record. Even this simple task can prove a mission in itself, resulting in cursing and hurling of electronic equipment.

Step two is the more complex of the stages, what i call the:

Getting the subject on the radar.

This step proves the most difficult for techno-phobs who feel the best way to do this is to push every single button they can on the controller and hope something happens. Even if the tape only rewinds, it is seen as a great victory for them.

By step three the techno-elite have taken the remote and set the video up to record, fearing that the techno-phob actually will blow up the video player by trying to manually rewind the tape with a screwdriver and a pair of pliers.

But anyway, moving onto my personal favourite. The PC.

For some reason this simple piece of equipment flummoxes even those with a basic knowledge of technology but it is by far the funniest of all the technologies to watch. Most people over 45 think that surfing the World Wide Web has something to do with an Australian sports tournament... a common misconception amongst the technologically inept, to whom address bars and double-clicking means nothing.

The funny thing is that whilst these people are squinting at the monitor, and typing one key every three days, in classes around the world, ten year old's have mastered the web and are using it to look up their homework for school and when you tell them this all you get is a "we never had all this stuff when we were kids", well no, that is true, but i never had a DVD player or used one til i was about 19 and i can still use it. I have not disappeared into the black hole of "i cant use anything with more functions than a Biro"

Still this age of technology is coming thick and fast and i often wonder how the techno-phobics of the world will fare in this new age of electronics. Every week some new appliance comes out and with more functions than you would ever physically need or want. Mobile phones will soon not only be able to take photos, videos, play music and games, sooner or later they will be able to pick up your laundry and wipe your arse in the process. I shiver with anticipation at the thought of what cruel devices companies can come up with next to confuse our middle aged compaderates.

Remember techno-phobs, technology is not something that happens to everyone else! It can happen to you too!

No Smoking Diaries: Day Eight

Day Eight (and the intermittent period)

Smoked: 0
Pints drank: ... would u believe me if I said 2 units?
Rants: 3
Of which rational: 0
Calories eaten: Equal to a small cow

Ok, so day eight. I missed a couple of days out because as weird as my behaviour is, the intermittent period was just me moaning about fags and ranting.

But yes... day eight. Strange that I made it here at all since I've spent all week with what I call phantom fag syndrome. I keep thinking I'm either smoking one, (and its so goddamn real i can even feel myself inhaling), or I'm reaching for my packet to have one.

Its strange.

You would think that after a week it would all be out of your system but I could quite easily pick up a pack of tens right now and flame through the entire lot in about 2 hours. But then I am still on patches and to be fair I keep forgetting what I've got on so the other night i went to work with two on from that morning and then I put another two on before I went, forgetting about the original two. Its no wonder I'm daydreaming cigs. I'm probably bloody OD'ing on nicotine substitutes. Although to be fair i haven't seen hide nor head of a pink elephant so i figure I'm doing ok.

The strange thing is that even though I haven't smoked in 8 days I'm waking up most mornings and i feel like I've been on a night out and smoked 40 in the space of 4 hours. Its really bizarre. Hopefully that will pass soon. Fingers crossed.

The worst temptation was going to the pub. everyone who smokes will understand this...
pint and fag.

It's like the strawberries to cream... the horse to the carriage... and other equally cheesy shit that fit together that i cant be arsed to think of.

My point is that should have been my biggest test. To drink, get drunk and not want to buy cigs. I tell you it was damn damn damn hard. We sat in no-smoking so that was a little easier but the friggin fag machine is in the no-smoking section!

GO FIGURE?!

Were the logic in that is, I do not know. But, ah, that damn machine was taunting me all bloody night, looking at me with its neon lights shining the way to my brand. It was difficult not to run over, whack my dosh in, light up and run. I was drawn to it like a stupid moth to a liquefying flame. But I resisted. That was on Monday I think... hmmm...

By Sunday (which was last night) I had been the pub every day apart from Saturday (and that was only missed because i was working).

GREAT!

Instead of smoking I have now developed an alcohol addiction and also a pool addiction which is worse than the alcohol dependency (to be fair that was always there!)

Yes, a pool addiction.

Seriously this week I have spent about 20 quid on playing. It's daft but it keeps my mind off smoking and keeps my hands occupied with something that wont get my bar'd! Bah!

The only real difference I've noticed is that I seem to find money all the time in my purse, pockets, floor, bag... anywhere really. AAAANNND that I'm not choking my poor passive smoker friends to death.

Bad side of it is that I'm going to be 10 stone heavier for my holiday. NOT GOOD! I don't really feel healthier. I cant smell or taste better but i am having freaky friggin dreams still which for a person who rarely dreamed is FREAKING me out. Seriously. some are nice and normal(ish) well the pink one was the most normal. Make your own psycho-analytical B.S on that. But some are bloody horrible. I don't know what that says about my unconscious mind...

But anywho. Day Eight. No patches left today. Woke with a blinding headache. Lets see who cracks first.

Me or the world.

The World has like 60 billion years on me mind you, but whose counting...