Saturday 30 June 2012

Things to remember when swimming

I have had a long think. A think about my anger. I have decided that, rather than work out where it came from, it will conclude that I was having An Off Day and move on. The following are my new things to remember whilst swimming.

- I am here to have a nice time.

- Most other people don't think about things in such detail.

- Just keep going up and down, don't take any notice of other people.

- If people get in my way, just move around them and keep going. It's not a big deal. Don't flip out.

- If it seems like people are intent on ruining my swimming session by annoying me, just remember, it's only because they're jealous.

- If someone hits me by accident while swimming, don't hit back! It's just an accident. Two wrongs don't make a right.

- Holding people's head under the water to 'teach them a lesson' is NOT an appropriate reaction to a minor irritation.

- Sighing loudly and shaking my head to let people know I'm annoyed doesn't actually work in a swimming pool. Most people's faces and ears are under the water.

- All the other swimmers have not formed an allegiance with the intention of annoying me. It just seems like it.

- When I win the World Championship At Swimming and they give me a massive trophy, as big as my house, then all this will mean nothing anymore. I'll go back to that swimming pool and show them all my trophy, then they'll know. That'll show them.... Focus on the long term.

- If all else fails, take a couple of small piranha along and smuggle them into the pool.

Friday 29 June 2012

Considering anger management

I went swimming again this morning. I just got back and am feeling relatively calm again. Today's swimming session wasn't calm. It made me irate. It shouldn't have. But it did.

As I approached the pool I saw that it was mostly empty, just the lap lane was full. The front crawl lane and nice and easy lanes were both empty. Also, the massive end lane which can take about four people only had one person in it. So I got in the nice and easy lane and thought I'd just have a relaxing swim today because my shoulder was aching a bit. I was about ten lengths in when it started. It all fell apart.

A lady approached the nice and easy lane so I moved from the middle of the lane to the side of it, to make space for her. She also moved to the side, the side I was on! She stood there fixing her goggles then just started swimming!



This picture shows the situation. I'm in the end lane (the top one). The next lane, for front crawl, is empty. The next lane is full and the end one is almost empty. The lady has approached the nice and easy lane, lined herself up with me exactly, leaving the other half of the lane empty and set off swimming straight at me! Doing front crawl!

DOING FRONT CRAWL! She's come to share the nice and easy lane and is doing front crawl, when the front crawl lane is free! I quite literally went in to shock. I know it's irrational but I was livid.

I just kept swimming straight, even though I know she must've expected me to move. Don't people get it? When you're new to the lane, you fit in with the people there, you don't come in and shove people out of their space when they were there before you! Is it me? I'm worried about my anger, maybe I'm making up rules that are silly?

Anyway, I kept going, thinking she'd surely move. Surely. But she kept coming, doing a really clumsy version of front crawl, her hands kept splatting on the water like the noise you make when you belly flop. We eventually got so close that I had to stop and just tread water until she saw me. She did, obviously. She must've known I was there the whole time. She just looked at me like there was no problem.

"I guess I'll move then," I said, when it became clear that she hadn't noticed anything wrong. I waited for the penny to drop and for her to go 'O, it's ok, I'll move over here.' But no. It was unbelievable. We were near the stairs so I just got out and moved to the large end section and started swimming but I was all out of sync and couldn't concentrate.

I noticed the indoor pool was emptier so I went inside and started swimming. After about two lengths, four people came in together and squashed themselves into the lane I was in. One man was just standing at the end, holding on to the side, not moving. He was at the end of my section and didn't move away when I approached. So I had to swim around him to get to the end then swim back around him to start my next length. He just stood there.

By this point, it was getting silly, I hated everyone in that pool and wished they'd all just bugger off and leave me to swim. It was time to take myself out of the situation...

After I got out, I tried to work out what was wrong with me. I've had a bit of a toothache and have a dentist appointment fast approaching. Has that made me angry? When it was quite hot yesterday, I struggled to not get grumpy with everyone, so maybe it's the leftovers from that? I can't work it out. People do silly things at the swimming pool all the time and are constantly stealing your space, so why was I so angry today? Maybe the Swim Gods are punishing me for missing Wednesday by stealing the Fun Factor from today's swim? Or maybe I just shouldn't be around people...?

I'm going to drink some herbal tea and do some yoga, I think.

Thursday 28 June 2012

Big fat swim challenge fail!

It’s my first week of Being Sporty. So I thought a good starting point was to challenge myself to do something active every day for a week. I decided to swim. I am calling it my Swim Challenge Week. No sooner have I spent hours deciding what to name my ‘challenge’ and I’ve already failed it. I am here to ask for your forgiveness.

Day 1 and 2 went well. I just went after work. On Day 3, I knew it was going to be a bit of a squeeze finding time for it as I was working early, going straight to Yaya’s 4th birthday party, then going straight to a leaving party for some work friends. But I thought I might be able to squeeze it in somewhere. Off I went to work, then off I went to the first party. There was a pirate ship cake! There was a new bike! There were fun temporary dinosaur tattoos! (I obviously got one too. A stegosaurus on my left arm. I have officially joined the Cool Gang.) There was an amazing racing car game and a shooting gun thingy with foam thingies to fire at stuff! It was all huge fun.

But it was getting a bit late. The work party wouldn’t go on forever and I would have to go straight from one to the other if I wanted to make it. But what about the challenge!? I couldn’t fail before I’d even been doing it for long! I panicked slightly. I thought about just writing a blog saying I’d done it anyway but I knew I’d be too nervous of being found out.

Then I had a brain wave. I’d go to a swimming pool nearby and have a quick swim here, then when I left later I could just go to the second party, without trying to swim in between. So I pottered off to the nearest swimming pool. It wasn’t my local and it wouldn’t be outdoor with lovely trees around it so I could pretend I was on holiday. But it would be fine for now. I walk to the main desk and say I’d just like to go swimming please.

The lady at the desk says… Are you ready for this?….

“Yeh, it’ll be open again in 45 minutes.”

Fail! I don’t know whether she realised that, with that one little sentence, she had ruined my Swim Challenge Week and, hence, my life. Life ruiner. Ruiner of lives. I couldn’t stay for 45 minutes to wait and then swim and then go back to the party! I would have missed all the fun by then!

I didn’t say anything for a while. Then I mumbled something or other about it being ok then I left. It was NOT ok. It was really annoying. There I was, ready to swim. Towel and costume in bag. Goggles at the ready (that’s right, I have invested in some goggles, this is getting serious). But no. No swimming for me.

I weighed up my options on the way back to Yaya's party. Should I give it all up, blame others for my misfortune, start living off fast food and become house bound due to my depression over being thwarted in my efforts? Or should I swim every day for the rest of my life to make up for the guilt of having missed a day? Or should I just keep going tomorrow and not stress about the missed day? I’d like to say I chose the last option but in reality I’m leaning toward a mixture of the last two.

I swam this morning and did more than usual to satisfy the Swim Gods, who count your lengths and decide whether to punish you with a guilty conscience or not.

In other news = when I went swimming this morning, I was midway through doing a whole load of back stroke when I realised I still had my ‘cool’ stegosaurus tattoo on my arm, which I’d been lifting out of the water a lot. If anyone saw it, they must have thought I was dinosaur mad.

More news = Yaya got a bike for his birthday and had learned to ride it by the afternoon! Also, my name has become Lau-lau in babyspeak.



Wednesday 27 June 2012

Can I have a word? Part 4

Our regular guest blogger tackles the subject of 'Portmanteau Words' today.


It’s back to that subject of words and, in this case, some very special words. As you’re probably aware English is a kind of “made up” or mongrel type of language. The purity of whatever language the inhabitants of our island spoke has been watered down (improved?) over the centuries in a number of ways. It’s become a mixture of so many words that have come to us from other cultures and languages around the world. Since the Romans invaded brining their Latin words, more influences have come in from a number of other conquerors: Danes, Vikings, Angles, Saxons, Normans have all been responsible for changes in our language (and place names in particular) over hundreds of years. Immigration has provided more foreign flavours to the mix. Other words have come from the days of the British Empire and the countries it traded with. Some words we’ve taken in without modification (e.g. précis & fiancée from French, apartheid & trek from Afrikaans, ashram from Sanskrit and hundreds more); others have a kind of anglicised version but betray foreign roots. It’s estimated, for example, that 30% of English words have a French origin & 60% have a Latin origin; some duplication because of the Latin origin of some French words. A recent arrival into English (late 19th cent.) is the word safari which comes directly from Swahili where it means “long journey”; more recently Wiki (as in Wikipedia) from the Hawaiian “wiki wiki” meaning fast; Baboushka (also a 1980 song by Kate Bush) from the Russian for grandmother and Gulag which is actually an acronym in Russian for Glavnoye Upravleniye Ispravitelno-trudovykh Lagerey i kolonii; moped from the Swedish and short for motor and pedal. And there are, of course, hundreds more.

One of the things you might not have realised is that a word like moped is actually called a “portmanteau” word because it is made up of two other words or shortened versions of them. In fact, if you think about it, the French word porte-manteau is itself made up from two other French words: “porter” (meaning to carry) and “manteau” (meaning cloak). Apparently it was first used, in the context of joined words, by Lewis Carroll in 1871 (Alice Through the Looking Glass). Remember Freedom Literature, when I quoted, from Jabberwocky, these words “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe” – I wonder did you know that “slithy” means lithe & slimy? LC was also responsible for the following portmanteaux: chortled a combination of chuckled & snort; frabjous for fair, fabulous & joyous; mimsy for flimsy & miserable. In 1964, when the country of Tanganika joined with the islands of Zanzibar the new nation was called Tanzania, a portmanteau of the two original names; similarly when Europe and Asia are combined to describe the whole land mass they become the portmanteau Eurasia. If you look back to LLM’s blog, Z is for, you will see the word zonkey - a portmanteau of zebra & donkey; also there is a zorse, a zebra/horse crossbreed and her very own, but rather difficult to conceive (think about it), catterpony. LLM’s blog, Attempting 'sporty', mentioned having started NaNoWriMo which looks very “portmanteau-ish” to me. There was the interesting quidnunc from the K is for knowledge blog: that’s actually a Latin portmanteau taken directly into English. There are, of course, many others along these lines. (Btw, the French though, in their own language, don’t use the word porte-manteau this ‘joined-up words’ way).

Older residents of the UK will remember ‘O level’ exams called G.C.E.s; later came the exams for those not as academically clever – they called them C.S.E.s. Then in the rush to get everyone “on a level playing field” both exams went in the dustbin and the first portmanteau exams arrived in 1988 – the G.C.S.E.s

Probably one of the most recent - anyone heard of a turducken? (Not me!) It apparently arrived into the English language officially in 2010. It’s made by inserting a chicken into a duck, and then into a turkey. (Why would you do that?).

One of the most useless portmanteaux has to be guesstimate – it simply doesn’t help. When would you use it instead of estimate or guess both of which do the job of saying something or some figure is not exact? If you can help me out – please do.
As an aside, I suppose you could call this whole process LLW – lazylanguagewords. Why? Because it means the language (i.e. me & you) doesn’t have to come up with an original new word as such. You need a new word? Just grab a few existing ones and with a bit of welding & a few twiddles - hey presto! (You want to drive and travel – you dravel or drivel.)

The more you look into our language the more examples you can see. It got me thinking about how economical these words are: as I mentioned before, instead of saying something “is a cross between a zebra and a donkey” you just say “it’s a zonkey” – neat eh? Now I think we could use some more of these to save space and time when either speaking or writing. What next? ………Yes, you’ve guessed, I’ve been working on a few.

I was thinking of transport and how easy it would be to describe your journey with some new portmanteau words. Take this sentence for example (when you arrive at a friend’s house and they ask how you did you get here?) – “I came by bus, train and taxi.” This can be “portmanteau-ed” (see how I made a noun/adjective into a verb there?) into “I came by butratax”. Do you see what I did there? A triple portmanteau! But it’s also very adaptable because if the journey was by train, bus & taxi it becomes trabutax. Switch it round for any combo of the words. If you wanted to include the walk to the bus stop (so walk, bus, train, taxi) you could make wabutratax (a quad portmanteau). If you’re a cyclist and you ride then travel on the train and ride again you could make bitrabi and so on. If you’re going abroad you could add the flight by plane into the mix – so taxi, plane, taxi would be taxplatax.

Now you may want to say how each leg of the journey went: good, bad, rough or whatever. I’ve had some thoughts on this too. So, for example, “I came by trabutax and the journey was gobaro. Did you get it? The journey was good, bad & rough on each of the corresponding legs by train, bus & taxi. If all three legs were good or bad you’d get gogogo or bababa.

Suppose someone serves in a café (or deli) and a customer could ask for a latchesanchoca which is a latte, cheese sandwich & chocolate cake. (Imaginary scenario: Customer to LLM – Can I have a latchesanchoca without the sandwich? LLM grits teeth & thinks: “But then it’s not a latchesanchoca!”) When four friends, each wanting a different drink, come in they could ask for an escaplatam – you got it didn’t you? An espresso, a cappuccino, a latte & an Americano. (Eseseslat = three espressos and a latte and so on.) Easy eh? Imagine the questions you’d get if those were on the menu on the wall: what’s that? Why is an escaplatam so expensive? Are they all mixed together in one cup? Are they definitely all separate? We’re definitely in LLM nightmare territory here? Where was that café again? …..Oh yes, ELM St!

Now, strictly speaking of course, the grammar-savvy among you will know that these words of mine are actually neologisms (that is words that may be in the process of entering common use) rather than actual portmanteaux (plural as per French not portmanteaus as would be in English) because they haven’t actually entered the language yet. (Therefore, to be precise, you can say that I’m making some speculative forays into the world of neologisms rather than inventing actual portmanteaux.) However just as it’s a fine line between genius and madness so it’s also a fine line between neologism and portmanteau! A definitely blurred, but possible, final frontier between invention and reality.

I wonder if you’ve thought of portmanteaux as a kind of ‘final frontier’? Out there on the edge? Are you ready to boldly go where no blogger (linguist?) has gone before? Such an ‘enterprise’ would be quite a trek wouldn’t it? Lots of stuff to Chekov the list and some old stuff to Klingon to. Also you’d need to make sure with the doctor that your “bones” are the real McCoy. Still, no space to go into all that here. (See what I did there?) Remember, as Captain Jean-Luc Picard said to his daughter, “Seize the time, Meribor. Live now; make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again" -- (from the episode called The Inner Light). I’m just off to scan those transport suggestions again – “beam me up, Scotty!” (To the Starship Bloggerprise - of course).

But you can see how the language could develop? It’s exciting isn’t it? (Perhaps LLM could revisit her “Things to get excited about” mood before becoming too sporty? New items on menu in café perhaps?) And it’s happening right here! And you read it first here!

Now it’s over to you - perhaps you could have a think and post some of your suggestions in the comments. It would be great to see some readers’ inventions. I’m sure you can come up with some better efforts than mine. (I can speak to Messrs Chambers, Oxford, & Collins once we’ve collected our suggestions.) Let’s get on board the E.S.S. Bloggerprise and take our language forward to that final frontier– together! (This entry - using the most recent calculation method - is from the Captain’s Log: Stardate 2012.178)

Tuesday 26 June 2012

The problem with swimming

I am on Day 2 of Being Active week and, since there's an outdoor swimming pool near my house, I thought I'd try to swim every day this week. Yesterday went well. The pool opens at 6.30am so I woke up at 6am and was in the pool by 6.40am. I thought it'd be good because I might miss the rush. I've been a few different times in the morning and it's always pretty full. I was trying to find a time when it was a bit emptier so I could swim without crashing into people.

Of course my plan did not work. It was still quite full ten minutes after opening. 'O well,' I thought. 'I'll just swim in that one empty lane over there that no-one else is in. I wonder why no-one else is in it.'

Off I go, to the empty lane. All to myself. Ahhh, loads of space. Very exciting. I get in and I think maybe I'll be a bit adventurous today, I'll do back stroke. Seeing as there's no-one else in the lane, I can swim without worrying that I'll hit anyone. So I do one length, it's quite tiring for someone who's into the whole gentle-stroll scene.

And that's when I see it, the sign at the top of the lane, in massive letters. 'FAST LANE. FRONT CRAWL ONLY.'

O no! I'd just committed a swimming faux-pas. I'd done back stroke in the front crawl lane! I suddenly felt very self-conscious and looked around for another space in one of the slower lanes but there weren't any. Disaster! I checked the indoor pool but that was even busier. I looked at the lifeguard, ready to be told off, but she hadn't noticed. There was nothing for it but to keep going. Worse still, I had decided to do back stroke on my way up and breast stroke on my way back. So there I was, plodding along like a grandma, doing breast stroke in the FAST FRONT CRAWL ONLY lane. Boy, was I nervous! I tried doing front crawl for a length but it wasn't great. I know my limitations. At the moment, back stroke and breast stroke are my comfort zone.

Inevitably, someone wanting to use the FAST FRONT CRAWL ONLY lane to do front crawl came into the lane so I went into the one next to me as a space had freed up there and immediately I was exposed to all the minor annoyances of swimming around other people.

Why is that person swimming in a diagonal line? They've cut across my bit and now I've got to move to get around them. And now I've lost my space.

I'm swimming in this bit! Why are you getting in the pool and swimming in a straight line toward me? I guess I'll move out of the way although I was here first. And again, lost my space.

If you're going to swim in the lap lane, don't be the slowest swimmer ever, please. People are behind you, trying to get some exercise.

If you're going to come here and swim in public, make sure you can do it first. The big splashing nonsense that appears to be your version of 'swimming' is making me fear for my life. You also just kicked me on your way past.


So you see the problems of swimming in a public pool!? It's not as straight forward as you would think. You spend a long time, carving out a little space for yourself and then people come and invade it. Or you accidentally ignore the swimming social etiquette by swimming in the wrong lane. Or you get stuck next to someone who's all arms and legs and you have to flatten yourself against the side when they pass. There's lots to think about. I bet you thought swimming was a fairly simple activity? Well, I must warn you, don't bring your brain with you if you want a simple swimming session. There's too much to think about.

Today, I'm working early so will swim after work. Fingers crossed I won't talk myself out of it (I'm very good at talking myself out of things).

Monday 25 June 2012

Reasons why my big brother is cool

When the older years and younger years at primary school had play time together and my friends and I were playing with a ball, whenever I got it, I'd run over to my big brother and shout 'chuck it!' and he'd throw it really far. I remember thinking I'd never seen anyone throw a ball that far in my entire life.

When we got sweets at the shop, he made up a cool game where he was the bin. To play, I'd press his nose and his mouth would open. I'd press his nose again and his mouth would close. Then I'd press it and he'd chew the sweet. Then I'd press again and he'd swallow it. Inevitably, my brother cleverly got all the sweets and I got none. But it was SUCH a fun game!

He listened to way cool music. I went through a phase where I decided that I'd like exactly the same music as him, to try and extract some of his coolness. I listened to Fugees and Nas and didn't understand a word but I knew it was cool.

I used to sit and watch him play computer games while I'd write my little stories. I didn't really know what Championship Manager was about but I'd watch him play it for ages nonetheless.

We used to get up early on weekend mornings, put our duvets on the stairs and get a sleeping bag. One person would get into the bottom of the sleeping bag and the other would sit at the top and we'd bump down the stairs. It was WAY more fun than it sounds.

He and his friends would play football on the back field and I'd sit nearby, reading or writing a little story. When the ball would roll too far, I'd run and collect it for them. Like a one-girl fan club! Just lingering around, watching them run about and not having a clue what was going on.

Sometimes we were allowed to put up the two man tent in the back garden and sleep overnight in it. We'd hang out in the tent feeling like we were on a massive adventure. That was fun.

I heard my brother tell a joke once so I told it to everyone I knew. It went like this - What do you get if you go under a cow? A pat on the back. I honestly had no idea what was funny about it! I thought it meant that you were really brave for going under the cow. People laughed when I told it and I didn't know why. But because my big brother had said it, I said it.

My big brother was the coolest guy in his school when on the final year photos he did a cool hand gesture thing. I forget what it was. I just remember thinking he was pretty out-there and fun.

My big brother taught me how to ride a bike. I learned really late and was quite embarrassed about it and one day, he took me to the race track on the back field and taught me how to ride. Thanks for that, by the way!

When my big brother got married last year, he asked me to do a reading in the ceremony. Amazing. My cool big brother wanted ME to do a reading at his wedding. It is still the best wedding I've ever been to. Well, of course it was. It was MY big brother's wedding!

Happy birthday, big brother!

Sunday 24 June 2012

Attempting 'sporty'

I've decided that it's time to give my list of Stuff I'd Like To Do Post-Exams another go. I've done Getting Excited About Stuff, which was good. I think next I'll do Being Sporty. I mean my version of sporty, by the way. Which I think is most people's version of mild exercise. I'm ok with that.




Yesterday I went on the most epic walk along the river, which was amazing. I came across a boat race, a mariner's club open day, an outdoor art installation, open air theatre, a jazz concert, a music festival, an open-house day at a group of artists' studios, two schools' open days and a wedding in a gallery. It's lovely what nice weather can do. I discovered loads of things that I've been walking past for years but never gone in. Huge stately homes and beautiful gardens. Funny little islands and secret passageways. Fantastic statues and royal residences. It was such a lovely way to spend a Saturday.





Even when rain threatened to stop play and I didn't have a jacket, I soldiered through and it stopped in the end. Even when my shoes threatened to tear apart the backs of my heels (silly me for wearing the trainers I hardly use for a long walk), I found a shop and bought plasters and kept going. I had a London Walks guide book with me and had just picked the first in the list and was reading the information as I went around. It was great fun.

So I decided this week I am going to challenge myself to do something active every day. Not just a ten minute stroll to Waitrose. Actually active. I'll keep you updated.

I also started NaNoWriMo a few days ago (National Novel Writing Month). You write 1667 words a day and in a month you have a 50,000 word novel! Finding time for it is a bit of a challenge but I've kept it up so far.

Saturday 23 June 2012

Coffee

I'm a bit worried to say this because I know how passionate people get about this issue. But I think it's time to finally say it. I don't want my readers labouring under any illusions about me.

So let me just say it.

I don't like coffee.

In fact, I think it tastes quite horrible.

I've tried. I've really tried. I've worked with coffee for ages now. Sometimes I make a drink wrong by accident. So I think to myself, rather than waste the cappuccino, I'll drink it. And I always regret it. It's just not tasty. Sorry, coffee lovers. I just don't get the coffee thing. It's not tasty.

I used to go to a nice restaurant in central London sometimes, before an evening class I was taking and I would order a black coffee. I loved sitting in the window watching life go by and drinking my black coffee. Like a real grown up. I was not enjoying my black coffee at all. I'm useless with super hot drinks anyway, so it took me forever to take my first sip. Then I'd add sugar so I couldn't taste the coffee so much. So the entire exercise was essentially pointless, the only real point being to make me feel a bit sophisticated and, really, who was I kidding.

If I'm in work and I have a coffee, I go a bit mental. I talk very fast and run around trying to do everything all at once. It's not good

Recently, I decided to get into coffee drinking again. But my order ended up being so complicated that I could feel how annoying I was when I was asking for my drink. Because I don't like coffee, I thought I'd try decaf. I also thought that if I'm going to drink coffees often, I should at least limit the damage and get it with skimmed milk which, incidentally, steams much better than semi or full fat, it goes really smooth and silky. So I'm decaf and skimmed, awkward central. Then I've noticed that when I get latte or cappuccino most places, the foam on the top is really dry and I don't like that. I like it when it's creamy and got really fine bubbles. So I get a flat white.

A decaf skinny flat white.

Ridiculous.

I stopped ordering it after a little while because I could hear how stupid it was.

So that has been my interaction with coffee. I make it. I do NOT drink it. I wish I was more grown up and loved it. But I don't. I just don't.

Friday 22 June 2012

A childhood story

When my two friends and I were travelling around Asia, we got to know each other pretty well. As already told in Budgeting in Laos, we once stayed in a fancy-ish hotel and, after trying unsuccessfully to leave, spent two or three days there. One friend had a few bites on his feet and had got water in his ear when we scuba dived and a few other little things. Day two in the fancy hotel culminated in everything worsening at once and him being really quite ill. So we spent some time just hanging around in the fancy room chatting.

This is one of the stories my ill friend shared with us:

When he was younger, about six years old, all the other kids on his street used to come and call for him early in the morning and they would play out for a few hours until they had to go inside for lunch or whatever.

This one time, it was super early, before 7am, I think, and all the kids were playing in my friend's back garden. There was a little climbing frame thing and, for some strange reason, the game they had invented that day consisted of climbing along the frame until you got to the slide. You then sat at the top of the slide with your hands in the air and shouted as loud as possible, the word "Fanny!" while sliding down.

After a little while, these loud shouts became screams and the word 'Fanny' was echoing around the neighbourhood. They woke up my friend's mother as her bedroom window faced the garden. Shocked and still a bit sleep-dazed, she went to the window, opened it and was greeted by the sight of her son, hands in the air, standing at the top of the slide, mid sentence.

"Fan......" the word died on the air as Mum was spotted.

"What on earth are you doing?!" Mum yelled, or words to that effect. "Get to your room!"

My friend sheepishly scurried inside, face reddening, the delirium of the Fanny Game rapidly giving way to embarrassment. He was made to stay in his room for what felt hours. Eventually his Mum called from downstairs then he could come out of his room and come downstairs. He did that thing kids do, where you think that if you just move very slowly and don't say anything, people might think you're invisible. He did his invisible trick down the stairs and into the hallway. He had just about dealt with his embarrassment, he had learned his lesson, don't shout 'fanny' out loud. He would never do it again and he hoped no-one ever found out.

His Mum was in the front room chatting to a friend, they were laughing and joking. When she saw him, (for of course she did, his invisible trick did not go well this time) she said to her friend, let's call her Jenny, "I was just telling Jenny about you being naughty. You were being naughty this morning, weren't you?"

My friend nods, meekly.

"He's been shouting Fanny in the garden, haven't you?"

His cover blown, he nods again. The game's up, he knows this story will get told to all and sundry and he will remember it for the rest of his life. And he still does.

Thursday 21 June 2012

"I'm so different and unusual"

This is one of those things that doesn't need to be said. When people write in their descriptions of themselves on their 'About' pages for Facebook or something, "I'm really wacky and random," I just don't believe them.

If you really were so unusual and wacky and different and cool and funny, surely it wouldn't need to be said? It's not as though I'd be chatting away to you, thinking how normal you are, and then you'd suddenly say to me, "Omygoodness, I'm really wacky," and I'd suddenly think, 'O yes, yes you are. Now that you've said it I can see it.' If you have to point it out, it's not actually that noticeable, so it's not really true.

I went to university with a girl who I got on really well with. We stayed in touch a little afterwards. I moved to a different university to start a new course after one year, she left to go and live with a guy she met on the internet. I got a friend request from her on one of these social networking sites, it was before Facebook was really big so I don't know what site it was. I went on her page....




Awfulness. There was a photo of her doing slightly shocked eyes and jazz hands with a bit of a mad hairstyle and her description of herself went something like this:

"I love making jewellery, I live in Ireland with the best boyfriend in the world, I have the best friends ever, I'm totally wacky and I love being quirky. Take me or leave me!"

Now, this is not only annoying in the way that I have already explained. It is annoying on two more levels. One is that she is the furthest thing from 'wacky' I could describe when I knew her. She was just down to earth and normal. A little bit mumsy, if anything. She wore a sturdy but unfashionable backpack and long, heavy, war-time-ish skirts. She was lovely. I loved killing a few hours in the cafe chatting to her. I never noticed how she looked really. And then I got this silly friend request about how 'craaaaazy' she is and I thought about her and thought how definitely un-craaaaazy she is. And I just didn't believe her. I didn't believe her description of herself and I didn't really want to be friends with her anymore.

It reminded me of going to secondary school and getting all excited because I'd moved up a year so there were younger ones to boss around. You know, you suddenly get really full of yourself and think you're extremely cool and everyone else is thinking about how irritating you are.

It's like Danda says, "If you have to try for even one second to be cool, you ain't cool."

The second reason this statement is annoying is this whole 'best in the world' thing. This is so silly. Birthday cards that say, 'To the best sister in the world,' for example, are ridiculous. How can anyone possibly know that? Unless they have had every sister in the entire world and concluded this one to be the best. Yes, they might be great and kind and lovely but 'the best in the world'? Did they donate a kidney? Did they die trying to rescue you from a treacherous river? Did they carry you single-handedly across a desert to save you from thirst? Did they? Unless you know what every sister in the world has ever done done for their sibling, it's a statement you can't make. People say it on Facebook when it's Valentine's or something. So-and-so has got the 'best girl/boyfriend in the world.' As though we're all sitting there going, 'O well, I thought my boy/girlfriend was amazing but now I realise that person's actually is. I'm so jealous. I only have the second best boy/girlfriend ever.'

Wednesday 20 June 2012

The end of freedom

It's the last in the series on freedom from my regular guest blogger...


We now come to the 6th & final instalment of the series on Freedom. There is obviously a lot of ground we haven’t been able to cover but if you’re still with me thank you for persevering. What I want to do is try and bring the series to a close by drawing lessons from the first five parts but also by giving you some further food for thought.

I hope you’ve seen that each of the areas we have looked at (music, art, literature, internet) has its own problems with regard to freedom. However there will always be those who want more freedom than they have. What I’m about to say now may strike you as being a bit odd: total freedom equals total chaos! How so? Let’s look at a couple of examples from real life. Take the network of roads across whichever country you live in. Ask yourself what will happen if drivers have complete freedom? They can drive on whichever side of the road they want at whatever speed they want, they can ignore road signs and traffic lights particularly if they’re in a hurry and so on. What is the result? - Probably lots of accidents, no claims because everyone can do what they want so no-one is responsible, and therefore general mayhem. Roads & drivers, and indeed all road users (cyclists, pedestrians etc), need rules otherwise the system breaks down.

Now think of sports or athletics. In a game of football, baseball or whatever - what happens if you allow all the players to do whatever they want? What happens if runners on an athletics track can deliberately trip up other runners or ignore the lane they have been given to run in? - Once again chaos because there is no order to what is going on. Imagine watching a game or an athletics event with no rules! How long would you stay? Rules are needed for there to be a meaningful competition between opposing teams. It just doesn’t make sense to have no rules.

Try this one - Draw a circle or rectangle on a piece of paper. Put the point of your pen inside the line(s). Now move your pen wherever you want to within the boundary of the figure you drew. You can go wherever you want; you have complete freedom inside the lines, you could draw, sketch, paint, crayon or whatever. If I gave you a piece of canvas 77cm x 53cm (30in x 21in) what could you do? I would probably just have a mass of lines and colours not looking like much. (However, looking at some of the pictures in recent exhibitions featured in the news, I think I might have a chance!) Perhaps you would do better. Not many could produce a picture like the one of Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo – (Mona Lisa, in case you were wondering.) Da Vinci, in the early 16th century, did. The painting had to have boundaries and within those boundaries he produced a fantastic piece of work.

Transfer these analogies to real life and let’s ask the question again. How can society function if everybody does whatever they want because they want the freedom to do that? They do not want you or me or some authority telling them what to do. They don’t want boundaries on their behaviour. Why should the idea of rules be any different for a society of human beings than for any other activity they engage in. We must have rules otherwise we and our society can’t function. The real problem arises when we try to specify what those rules are or should be. Who is going to make them up? Who is going to police them? And who is going to apprehend & prosecute those who do not obey them? In a democracy we give that responsibility to the elected government & its law enforcement agencies – they are the law makers and enforcers.

Do you think it’s best to live in a democracy because that gives the most or the fairest rights to those living under it? Most will agree it’s better than say a dictatorship. We tend to believe that democracy equals good, non-democracy equals “not as good” or even potentially bad. Would you consider the following example and seriously ask yourself if you still agree after reading it? Suppose you’re on a ship and the ship is sinking. The alarm goes out to “man the lifeboats” and the crew begins loading people in and lowering the boats into the water. Let’s say each boat is built for say 10 people and has emergency food rations for that number. Once the boat is launched and has been rowed or drifted away from the sinking ship you find that there are 11 people in the boat. The boat is unstable with 11 (6 one side, 5 on the other), it’s too low in the water and there are not enough rations to support 11. A vote is taken on who the people think should be thrown out of the boat. It’s democratic and it’s fair and YOU are picked. Are you still a big supporter of democracy? Or are you now frantically trying to state your case? – Why you should be kept in the boat and someone else, who in your estimation, is less worthy should be thrown out. Do you see the problem? Democracy is great until it’s you that has to leave or be sacrificed for the greater good. This is not a “balloon debate” – this is real life. What gives them the right to throw you out? Errr..Democracy actually!

Another quite serious example from the TV last Sunday - would you or your town/area want nuclear waste dumped underground there (in safe containers of course)? In the area of Cumbria, where the Sellafield Nuclear Plant is located, in a survey, 68% of people (just over two-thirds) agreed with the proposal to use their area. A democratic result but those who oppose it simply won’t accept that. In other words, in a democracy when a vote is taken, you want (and probably have) the right to object to it. So a democracy which produces a majority decision must allow those in the minority to oppose that decision which means a democracy may not produce a democratic outcome. Or at least only a democratic outcome in certain areas because some people don’t like the result of the democratic vote. Hmmm….

Bring it, literally, nearer home – suppose the people in your street decide they don’t like you and don’t want you living in their street. You have to move. What gives them the right to force you to move on? Democracy again. It’s not as easy as you thought is it?

This is not a new problem. Almost 2,400 years ago Plato was considering exactly the same sort of issues in his work The Republic. Philosophers and thinkers down the ages have wrestled with the same problem. Plato believed the best way for a just society to function was to divide everyone into one of the following groups: producers (those who literally make stuff: food, objects, etc), auxiliaries (warriors or upholders of rulers wishes and making producers obey) and guardians or philosopher kings (rulers). (Social mobility is not allowed; once you’re in one group or class you stay there because that is your function. Seems like a precursor of the caste system perhaps? Also with the restriction of medical care to certain classes we see a worryingly early form of eugenics. Not a freedom, I hope, any would espouse. You might be surprised at some of the supporters of “The First International Congress of Eugenics” in 1912 which included our own Prime Minister at the time!) When the three groups, in The Republic are in the right relationships with each other, and the people in them understand and perform their functions, everything will be fine. Interestingly, personal freedom isn’t considered important and is subject to the good of society which comes first. He also believes poets need to be banished from this proposed ideal society (Book X). If you want to know why and the answer to other questions you might have but don’t fancy reading the whole treatise there is an excellent summary on the Sparknotes Website at:

http://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/republic/summary.html

So we can say quite clearly freedom has to have boundaries, has to have limits beyond which we cannot go. What that means is that you can do whatever you want within the boundaries – in a sport for example that’s where we can see the skill of a player. One person can do things another person can’t because they don’t have that ability. Look at footballers with their ball-controlling skills, watch them as they dribble around other players in a match because of their superior skill and applaud the goal or home run or whatever is achieved within the rules. A referee decides on penalties for those breaking the rules. The admiration comes from recognising their abilities working within the rules of whatever sport is involved. And so it is with society. It is just a fact that things will work better and people will feel safer if there are rules and people keep to them. Those who want to push the boundaries have a big problem – how far? And who says how far? And once one boundary is pushed are we then waiting for the next person to come along and push even further? Again, I have to ask, “but how far?” Each new level simply proves that people are never satisfied because they want always to push a little harder, to go one step further. (In the newspapers, a couple of days ago, we read of the fastest selling paperback since records began (beating Harry Potter & the DaVinci Code!). It is described as an explicit novel and last week alone sold over 100,000 copies. Another boundary pushed! I hope you can see the inevitable consequences of this pushing. They’re actually all around us in the state of our societies.

Plato had an idea that the values a society needs to live by could come from someone or somewhere outside the people living in that society. Now there’s a thought – what happens if we don’t really know best? Who’s going to admit that - musicians, artists, writers, bloggers? What happens if freedom really does exist only within the rules not outside of them?

That’s the end of our look at Freedom in various fields and in society as a whole. Whilst it has only been brief I do hope you’ve asked yourself some important questions and perhaps found some answers or at least the road to some. I’d like to finish with the proposition of Democritus who said that a life of contentment cannot be achieved through either idleness or pursuing worldly pleasures but only by being satisfied with what you have, giving little thought to envy or admiration. So there you have it – the freedom to be content! Or not? It’s up to you. More to it than you thought? Of course there is!

Tuesday 19 June 2012

Evidence of a misspent youth

I still know all the words to the ‘rap’ in Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre.

My Barbies and Kens had specially made (by me) paper underwear.

I know all the words to 99% of Backstreet Boys songs and can still do the dances that my cousin and I made up to about four of the songs from the album, Backstreet’s Back.

There are hours of video tape of me doing a ‘chat show’ on the camcorder.

My friend and I spent two weeks waiting anxiously for a reply to a letter we had written to PJ and Duncan (AKA Ant and Dec) saying we were going to their concert soon and were really good dancers and did they need backing dancers because we were obviously the people for the job. We had even made up some routines ourselves.

I have a drawer FULL of hair straightening products in my old bedroom… My hair has always been, and will always be, wavy/curly.

I have another drawer FULL of different coloured pens. I was extremely religious about what colour I underlined the date with, and whether it was a double underline or a squiggly line or a cloudy bubble thing.

There are hundreds of pieces of novelty wrapping paper dotted around my old bedroom. I never wrapped anything with them. I just kept them.

I have an exercise book full of ‘song lyrics’ I wrote (!). They were full of unrequited love and grand statements about life….. I was 14.

The vast amount of make-up I owned and the hours I spent in front of the mirror, with a copy of Cosmopolitan magazine, learning how to apply it… It always looked ridiculous and now I can’t remember the last time I wore any.

I spent at least 50% of my entire teenage years watching/re-watching/discussing/quoting from Friends.

I am now a Tetris demon.

I must have tried 5000 times to get past the big baddie at the end of the Starlight Zone on Sonic The Hedgehog and could never do it.

I spent a significant portion of my time wishing I was George from the Famous Five and pretending to be tomboyish. I even joined the girl’s football team at school and played half a match. Once.

I used to write and re-write (in different colour pens, with different underlining, in swirly writing or bubble writing) a list of the names I liked for my future children…. What a ridiculous idea!

Monday 18 June 2012

The big 100!

Can you believe it? This is blog post number 100! It has been an interesting learning experience. I originally started it because I was having one of those days. We've all had them. I went for a little walk. I had a huge essay to write and I thought I'd take a little walk and stretch my legs before I started. I walked to the river, intending to potter to the next bridge, cross it, then return. And I walked. And I walked....

And I walked...

And walked....

And kept walking a little bit more.

And I couldn't see any bridges. I had been out for hours. And my brain got ticking. I thought about my essay. I panicked. I'd never get it finished in time. I had no idea what to write. There was no way I'd get 4000 words out of the Corporate Manslaughter and Corporate Homicide Act 2006.

I had thought it'd be right up my street when I chose the question. Then I read the Act. It was not juicy and interesting. There was no gossip to be had. It was rules and regulations. Wordy ones. I worried about not finding it interesting as it meant my 'life plan' might be in danger. I was worried that my back-up life plan consisted of coffee making and that I'd one day be really old and grey, with rollers in my hair, and a Zimmerframe, standing behind a coffee machine, steaming milk. Forever.

I had a bit of a panic. How can I be approaching thirty and not be in charge of the world already?! I was slacking.

So, for the three and a half hours it took me to get to the next bridge (!) and the hour it took to get to a town centre on the other side, I felt pretty annoyed at myself. I couldn't believe I'd been trundling along doing 'not much' for so long. And I went into a bookshop because that always makes me feel better and somehow found myself holding a book called The Happiness Project.

The author talks about being honest with yourself about the things you find fun (having a book and free time, for example) and doing things you enjoy. She is a writer and enjoys writing so she starts a blog. I thought that I'd start one aswell as I enjoy writing, although I hadn't done any in years. I'd sort of been contemplating doing one for ages too but couldn't think what I'd write about. And that's how this came about.

There have been highs (getting to read Chat magazine and call it 'research'), the have been lows (eating everything in sight during revision). There have been silly moments (the invention of the catterpony), there have been serious moments (...wait a minute.... have there?). There have been various themes (freedom, the alphabet, Chat magazine, the way we speak).

But mostly, there has been.... lots of words.... and a high proportion of nonsense.

I am proud of my nonsense. The Happiness Project book introduced me to the idea of being honest with yourself about what you're good at and what you enjoy. And as much as I wish it were the opposite, making social commentary on the current political climate is not what I want to write about at the moment.

So, here's to the next 100 posts! I wonder what I'll be saying then???

Sunday 17 June 2012

One likes to play croquet, don't you know?

So we had a croquet match yesterday, us ladies. Yes, a croquet match. On the lawn. Not just any lawn. The Croquet Lawn.

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We each chose a ball and had the rules explained to us. My first few shots were played incorrectly so I was obviously messing around at the back of the class when we were having our Croquet Lesson.

Beige stepped up first, a seasoned croquetter and played a beautiful shot through the first hoop.

Yellow went next and played a rubbish shot which just sat next to the hoop.

Black sailed through and on to the next hoop.

Then it was my turn. I crashed straight into Yellow, who was next to the hoop. So I got two extra turns. I took two more turns and crashed into Yellow each time. Bloody Yellow. I got irritated. Yellow became my enemy.

Blue played last and kind of trundled through the hoop, not very spectacularly.

It continued this way for much of the game, Beige sailing effortlessly round and, ultimately, beating us all, and us trying to remember which hoop to aim for next and trying to find our balls in the bushes surrounding the Croquet Lawn.

Apparently you have to go through this hoop first, then this one, then that one then back through this one and that one.... And when you hit someone else's ball you get an extra turn and when you go through a hoop you get an extra turn and....

When this all started to hurt my brain and us amateurs had been trying to get through the same hoop for hours, we decided it the proper way, with a race around the trees.

Blue and I arrived back within milliseconds of each other, me panting heavily, Blue looking calm and unaffected.

And that's how it was decided. Blue and I came joint last. The Croquet Queen came first. Black and Yellow came second and third, I don't remember which way round as I was probably off in the undergrowth, trying to locate my ball....

I'd like to say we all went inside and lunched like ladies and discussed knitting. But that's not true. We got fish and chips and sat round the TV talking nonsense.

So all in all, a good time was had by everyone. What, what!

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Saturday 16 June 2012

Disappointing

So far, this holiday has been quite disappointing.

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Yes, dinner was lovely, but where was the burglary from the till at gun point?

Yes, the garden is huge and very impressive but where was the old war hero, hiding out in the disused chicken coop because he'd been rejected by society?

Yes, there's a lamppost at the end of the garden path which is EXACTLY like the one in the forest in Narnia and I got really excited, but where's the old wardrobe that transports you there?

And yes, the weather was quite nice and sunny, but where was the exciting thunderstorm that we could all be a bit scared of?

And ok, the drive here was great fun and we all sung very loudly to silly pop songs from our childhoods but that is beside the point! Where was high speed car chase and the lorry crash?

Yes! I am in book heaven and there are more books than I can count in this lovely house, but where are the strange voodoo dolls and torture equipment?

There have been no crimes, no mysteries to solve, no forays into another world and no inexplicable natural phenomena.

So unfortunately, thus far, it's just been loads of fun and really nice.

Friday 15 June 2012

Lots to get excited about!

Ok, I've been making a point to be more excited about things recently. I found some good stuff too. Joan Rivers' birthday, Donald Duck's TV debut, the Jubilee....

And today I have yet more to be excited about. This morning I went swimming. Again? I hear you all say, in admiration. Well yes, again. That's three times in a swimming pool in the past few weeks. If I keep going at this rate, I'll need to get some silly goggles and one of those tight caps in a loud colour, like yellow or red. O wait, there's more. Not only did I go swimming, but I went in the outdoor pool today! How hardcore am I? Actually it's lovely there because it's got lovely trees all round it and the sky was blue and the sun was shining on my face and I could almost pretend I was on holiday. I also did a few more lengths than last time so am thinking of letting the Olympic Games committee know to count me in for next time around.

So after a fabulous start to the day I came home and baked some muffins.... Well at least it's even stevens now. If I hadn't been swimming then it would have just been the muffins and I think it's generally frowned upon to just bake batches of muffins every day without at least pretending to do some exercise to have earned them.

They are banana bread muffins but I made them chocolate flavoured and put lots of cherries in them.

Another reason to be excited is because one of my other post-exam goals was to be more sociable and this weekend I have got that covered too. I am channeling my inner country bumpkin and spending the weekend in wellies with some uni friends.

Now the 'lazy' part of my username betrays itself a lot in my friendships. I am unfortunately quite a lazy friend. I've worked since I moved to London. Even around my full time undergraduate course, I was also working full time and volunteering part time. And when I was at uni, it was easy to see my friends because we were all in the same place. Then we all left, and my schedule didn't get any less busy, and I didn't make up for it by ensuring I kept in touch with everyone. So I'm very very guilty of having friendships that I don't invest as much time in as I should. I will dedicate some time soon to seeing people more often.

That's partly why this weekend will be so great. The main reason is of course that I'll get to spend it hanging out in a tractor in wellies. That's obviously the MAIN reason. But it will also be lovely to see friends again.

Double excitement then! Swimming and weekend away. Woop! I'm off to pack my going-away bag. Lots of waterproofs and warm jumpers! I love an adventure!

Omg, we could solve a mystery or something and then it really WOULD be adventure! I could live out one of my many childhood dreams, to be George from The Famous Five. Hopefully there's a crime this evening when we arrive!

Thursday 14 June 2012

I touched the key and....

Ok, so I'm still not done with this week's Chat magazine. You'll be glad to hear we're revisiting it and this time, I'm heading to the 'Spirit World' section, with Chat's medium, Tony. Now every week, there's a picture of a key.



The 'lucky things that happened to readers' last week were....

Kate baked the perfect chocolate cake for her son's birthday.

Peggy learnt to ride a bike (she's 60).

Maggie's dog has finally stopped chewing her shoes.

Apparently those things happened because of touching the key. Amazing. So if you're reading this and you want some amazingly good luck (if you are going to make a cake, ride a bike or get a dog, maybe) close your eyes and touch the key and report back the lucky things that happened to you as a result of it. Let me tell you about my day yesterday after I touched the key. The luckiest day ever!

I woke up at 4.15am to do an online exam, my last thing for my law degree, and my computer didn't break in the middle of it! Wow!

I made a cup of tea and didn't spill any of it on myself! Amazing!

I wasn't late for work! In fact, I was three minutes early... Lucky!

I was very tired but I didn't fall asleep standing up! Omg!

I had five coffees but didn't have a heart attack! Gosh!

Someone annoyed me at work but I didn't punch them! Brilliant!

I had a sleep when I got home from work and didn't fall out of bed! Yeh!

I made a tasty banana bread! Fantastic!

I made a nice dinner for a friend who came over! Fab!

The football was on but I read a book instead so I wouldn't get bored! Great!

The washing dried on the line outside so I had clean pyjamas for bedtime! Amazing!

You see? All you sceptics out there. I bet you're eating your words now, aren't you? See how LUCKY my day was after I touched the key? I might write in to Chat to let them know how much they helped me and they might put me in their Lucky Key column.

I heart Chat.

Wednesday 13 June 2012

Freedom Internet

The next installment of our guest blogger's thought-provoking series on freedom....


After Freedom Rules, Freedom Music, Freedom Art & Freedom Literature we now come to Part 5 which I’m calling Freedom Internet. As you probably guessed I’ve been covering elements of what most people call popular “culture” (music, art, literature). I think we have to accept that the internet has now become an element of culture in its impact and coverage. Not only is it an element of the culture here in our society but it also affects most cultures in societies across the world. Wikipedia has become the ubiquitous reference tool despite not having the reliability of the printed encyclopaedia. In the past, print had to be far more rigorous in what it published but today’s Wiki sites have only to say: “No ref” or “Citation needed” to indemnify themselves against claims of being conduits of false, confidential or potentially malicious info. And here lies a far bigger issue – unsubstantiated info appears alongside verified stuff with the result that people end up not being able to tell the difference.

The first thing to notice is that “the internet” or, as its altruistic creator Tim Berners-Lee called it, the World Wide Web, does not exist as a separate entity or area like which previous freedom subjects did. Remember his original idea was simply to enable scientists to share info & research without having to resort to paper, telecoms (telex, fax, at the time) & postal connections. There is no unique place called the internet. It exists only on computer chips, in telephone lines and on many different servers across the world. It is actually an open network of linked servers with various files which can be shared. It’s a bit like a library, not of books but of other libraries all across the world.

From that point of view what you see as “on the internet” may not be what someone else sees: take China, North Korea & other nations who severely restrict the access of their inhabitants to it. Their “internet” is not the same as mine or yours. One server owner may agree to content which others may not. These server owners then become the arbiters of what will or will not be released into the public domain. Quite simply they have now become the ones who, to put it mildly, “push the boundaries”. More bluntly they have become the source of much of today’s morality and the setters of standards apparently deemed acceptable. How so? Well think of it this way - to whom are they answerable? There is no ruling body for “the internet”, no high council (or committee) who decide the rightness or wrongness of putting a particular site up for public viewing. It is completely in their hands. The internet is an open network with no controls – except the consciences of the server providers! Comments made in print, film or artistic endeavour are more rigorously scrutinised because of the potential for libel claims. Where the internet is concerned, people can just “hide” behind made up names and identities.

The potential for criminal activity is greatly increased. I don’t suppose there are many of us who have not received an email telling us that upwards of $100,000,000 is lying in a bank account somewhere in Nigeria and that we are the only ones who can unlock this vast store of money. Why would you believe a totally anonymous stranger would want to give you a huge chunk of money? Most don’t; email deleted, move on, no worries. But, and it’s a big but some DID believe it and sent their bank details. Their accounts were emptied, no-one was caught; they suffered the complete embarrassment of being taken in by the scammers. Then there are the internet sellers who simply take the money and no product arrives or, if they’re buying, receive the product and stop the payment. And so it goes on. Starting up a proper trading company takes a lot more effort than sitting in front of a keyboard and conning people. Are we surprised so much of it goes on?

Then there are the “Munchausen Syndromers”. The internet has many forums for people with various illnesses and disorders. It’s an ideal breeding ground for attention seekers. A recent UK radio prog discussed the issue and interviewed people who had gone onto cancer sufferers’ web forums pretending to have cancer and how they were managing day-to-day. Not only was their condition fictitious but they often invented other family members: girlfriends, boyfriends, children to make their situation seem believable. (I think most people will agree that it’s one thing to pretend to like sport on a sport website forum but quite another to pretend to have a terminal disease.) People were befriended and some completely taken in by the person who was not ill at all just pretending they were. (LLM’s “Chat” blog from yesterday referred to it in para 3 without actually naming it.) There is a further condition known as Munchausen by proxy but we don’t have space to go into that one here. In the internet world Munchausen’s Syndrome has become known as MBI (Munchausen by Internet). Those duped by such people are (rightly) devastated to learn that they have been conned, sometimes out of money they offered to help a situation which really didn’t exist. How can the forums’ hosts check out everyone who joins them? They rely on the trust and truthfulness of those who join to give the site the credibility so that people can feel secure revealing details, often very personal, of their condition and their feelings about it.

In real life, meeting someone talking like this you would pick up a number of signals from their body language, facial expressions and the like. On the internet all these human interface reactions are not on show. You are, or you become, what you type because no-one can see you. Only the perceptive or the ones who’ve been through a similar experience and pick up on stuff that doesn’t ring true will see through the lies. That incidentally is how a number of these cancer phoneys were found out. Very soon after they take their details down, disappear and some admitted they just create a new identity and begin the whole process again.
Recent surveys in the UK highlighted the age at which kids admitted they had first viewed pornographic material on the internet. Some admitted seeing it between 10-12 years old and from that I think we could assume that they had done so at a younger age but were wary of confessing to that so they said an age that to them seemed acceptable. Is a button asking them to confirm their age going to deter them?

Further areas of intimidation or “cyber bullying” as it’s called have resulted in a number of suicides over the past few years here in the UK and I suspect in other countries as well. How can it happen? Simply because if one person wants to call another person names or say things about them which are untrue they can. Until a complaint is made any comment is allowed, it seems. Even then the damage can be done and taking the comment down does not reverse the effect on the person hurt.

Without an overall arbiter of web content we should not be surprised that things have gone rapidly downhill in the moral sphere as well as the practical. The genie is well and truly out of the bottle; closing the barn door will be no good, the horse has clearly bolted and we’re not going to catch it. But how many really want to catch it?

Imagine standing at a bus stop and a bus comes along but it has no destination on the front. Would you get on or would you ask the driver where it is going? Even if it’s going the right way would you like it if the route was decided by the passengers shouting out where they want it to go next and not by the bus company. If I travel from say Glasgow to London I will see signs along the way telling me, as I get nearer, that London is 400, 300, 200 and so on miles away. It’s there on a blue metal road sign at the side of the motorway. I know where I’m going and I know how far it is. As you’re reading this you’re obviously on the “internet bus” and probably got on some years ago. Are you just on to enjoy the ride? A Magical Mystery Tour? Perhaps serendipity? Or do you worry about where the bus is going? Will you get off if the bus starts going down a road you don’t like and get on one that doesn’t go that way? A different service provider for example.

The internet has done so much good in many different areas and undoubtedly is greatly beneficial in the realm of study & research, commerce, communications for families and so on. That is to be welcomed and applauded. However we will reap what we sow and sadly we’re seeing a lot of negatives. Whilst I can only raise a few pointers to the current situation I hope you can see that unless controls are introduced the whole thing will continue down the road of decline. Freedom on the internet has had very serious consequences for us all. In a way it is breaking down societal norms and the differences between societies because those with unrestricted access can see what others are doing or how they are behaving. They then press their governments for change and, if successful, their society and culture changes. But to what? - To be more like ours? Why should ours be better than theirs?

Perhaps I can finish with some crucial questions: “Where do you think we as individuals and society in general are heading in this very difficult area? Are we, in reality, just being led by the internet? Can you see any signs? Is freedom helping us get there?”

Now moment of truth! If you look in a real mirror you see what you really look like. If you could look into an “internet mirror” what would you see?

Are you who you are or are you what you type?

Tuesday 12 June 2012

Evil cows, Peppa Pig brides and handy tips

It's that time again, everyone! Time to delve into our favourite magazine! That's right, Chat! I know you've all come to love Chat and probably have a subscription to it so I don't really need to go over this week's best stories, because you already know them. But for the few who haven't yet joined the Chat party, here's the lowdown this week.

The main headline today is:



That's it. Straight to the point. Evil cows! "Hang em!" said a friend, in true Chat spirit. It just seems a little juvenile, calling someone a 'cow'. That's what you'd call the other girls in school when you were 14 years old and they'd been spreading rumours about you.

Well anyway, there's always the obligatory 'I fell in love but she/he fooled me' story in Chat and these aren't much different. One is a woman who pretended to have kids and look after the guy's ill mum but she didn't really have any and she was buying a load of stuff with the mum's credit card. (The story has a Shock Factor of 9.8, so you know it must be serious!) The second one was a woman who got married 14 times and stole stuff from each person then buggered off. Pretty standard. This second story is called 'Behind The Big Crime!' I feel like maybe that's been overplayed, don't you? The 'Big Crime'? If they were talking about solving the mystery behind Ted Bundy's murders, or finally arresting and charging John Wayne Gacy or the Yorkshire Ripper perhaps, I'd see what they meant. But a bigamist who stole a few thousand dollars? The 'Big Crime'? I think they might have gone a bit overboard there.

The standard 'I was fat but now I lost weight and my life is better' story came from the 'Real Life' section of the magazine. Wait a minute - isn't it ALL real life? That's the point, surely? Anyway, back to the story. A woman talks about meeting a man, loving takeaways, stuffed crust pizzas are her fave, she loves chips, she loves chocolate, she loves noodles, she eats lard for dinner and drinks it down with oil, etc etc. She gets married, she feels great, she feels happy, she loves lard etc etc. And then the wedding photos arrive and....



Now, she's pretty massive in the pictures. She tells us she weighed 15 stone. And she hadn't noticed she was big, she says. Well, I'm not saying anything, just that when I hit 11 stone, I noticed! Anyway, then she joined Slimming World and twenty years later, she'd dropped to 14 and a half stone. Yeh! Woop woop! No, it was a year later and she dropped to a reasonable size.

There are some handy tips in the 'Blimey! That's Clever!' section, that I want to share with you, to help you around the house. One is that if you wear one of your rubber gloves out faster than the other, turn the other one inside out and it will go on that hand. You'd have to wear through two pairs though, wouldn't you? To have two left ones and no right ones, so you could do this. And to be honest, who does enough washing up to wear through two whole gloves?? You'd have to be storing your one old left one for ages, to wait for the new right one to wear through and throw away so that you could revive your old left and turn it inside out. A pair of Marigolds is only about a pound, it's not like you're saving a load of money by storing your one dirty old glove in the cupboard, waiting to use it again. I don't even use Marigolds actually. I'm tough.

Another tip, called 'Easy Squeezy' tells us to use a rolling pin when the toothpaste is almost finished, to get the last few dregs out. Again, I brush my teeth upstairs and have my rolling pin downstairs. It's very unlikely that I'm going to run downstairs with my toothpaste to roll it out on the table and then go back upstairs to get one last little bit out to brush my teeth with. What's a lot more likely to happen, is that I'll chuck that tube in the bin and open the new one. Not saying it's a rubbish tip. Just saying I'll never do it.

PS. I think Chat have been reading my blog! Remember when I wrote a story to send in to Chat? Called Asparagus Fingers? Well, if this advert for next week's Chat isn't a total rip off of my story, then I don't know what is!




There is also this story coming next week. It's not really to do with anything I've talked about. I just thought you might like to see it.


Monday 11 June 2012

The most annoying woman ever?





Ok, I've got an exercise DVD in my cupboard somewhere which is gathering dust because I refuse to watch it. I'll tell you why.

Where to start? Firstly, its Kettlebell workout which, when you start to watch it, turns out there's not a kettlebell in sight. She uses a dumb-bell, which isn't used the same way at all. She keeps telling me to hold it by the base or the handle and it's always wrong. So already I'm swallowing down extreme annoyance just to have it on.

The main reason though, is because this woman never stops talking! And I mean, never. It's constant. Just a flow of nonsense words. Here is a sample minute from the workout:

"Ok, we're going to do some renegade squats now! We're renegades! Moving side to side. They're not static squats. We don't stay still. We're renegades. They're renegade squats! Like we're in the army! We're on the move! Renegade squats! Ok, four more of these. They're really good for your thighs. Renegade squats! Working our gluts! Hold that weight! Squat! Ok, put your weight down. Great. We're just going to do some lunges. Over to your left. Put your back foot back (yes, she says that, what on earth is a 'back foot'?). Reach, reach, reach, feel the stretch. Ok, get your weight again. I want you to hold it by the handle in your left hand. And curl, curl, curl. In kettlebell training this is called a clean. So clean! Clean! Clean! Great. That's great. You're doing great. Ok, and squats. Static squats this time. We're not renegades. Amazing. You're doing a fantastic job. And legs together and twist from side to side. We're twisting from our hips here. Holding our weight. Working the waist. Yeh, working out that waist. Can you feel it? On the waist. We'll have nice toned waists. Your body shapes the way you move it. If you move it in a long lean way, it'll shape that way. Ok, let your biceps take over with this one. They'll guide the movement. That's the thing about kettlebell, your body moves in a co-ordinated way....."

On... and on.... and on....

And that's just one small section. Often I can tell what I need to do from watching her so she doesn't need all this talking. It's beyond irritating. I once stopped the video so I could sit down and write a bad review of it on Amazon. It's ridiculous.

I thought about whether to get it out this morning and have a little workout and then I remembered. I remembered how my equilibrium is always unbalanced after watching it because it annoys me so much. Maybe I should try watching it muted and putting my own music on?? Ah! I may have hit upon something here.

Sunday 10 June 2012

No...! Another..? Me..? Another award..? No!

Well, it's a tough job. But someone's got to do it.

I'd like to thank David McGowan yet again, for another award! David's book, The Hunter Inside is fabulous. I'm in the middle of reading it at the moment and can't recommend it highly enough.

I've been nominated for the Reader Appreciation Award. The rules for this one are that I must tell you all what I've been up to recently and nominate six other blogs that I enjoy reading.

Ok, what have I been up to? Well, I've taken up swimming (by 'taken up,' I mean I've been in a pool twice in the last week, I don't know if that counts) and it's quite liberating. After some time being only fully clothed in public, to wear a swimming costume and nothing else seemed a bit daunting. But I have now overcome that and am working on a way to deal with the post-swim fuzzy-hair issue that seems standard after being in the pool.

I have also been baking. In the house at the moment are chocolate, orange and ginger flapjacks, cranberry and pecan muffins, a banana bread and half of something called a German Friendship Cake. Oo and some jam, I made orange and ginger jam.

I have been reading a lot too, mainly things of the non-factual type. I had my final exams of my law degree recently and can't cope with facts for a short while in my recovery period. Fiction, novels, light-heartedness, silliness. That's where I'm at. I'm kind of in the middle of all of the following books:

F. Scott Fitzgerald's short stories
The First Husband by Laura Dave
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel by Deborah Moggach
Murder at the Academy Awards by Joan Rivers and Jerrilyn Farmer
Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
A Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
The Hunter Inside by David McGowan

And now for my six nominations. Well, I guess I enjoy reading all the blogs I read so it's hard to pick out six. But I guess what I'll do is nominate my favourite new blog discoveries, so I'm not repeating anything I've said before. Ok, here goes.

1. blackberriesandbloodoranges - I love reading it because it makes me mouth water. The latest post, Strawberry and raspberry sauce in pictures, looks ridiculously good!

2. prettygirlscook - I cook, therefore I am pretty? This blog is great fun. I was extremely jealous when I read the post about the Tuscan Wine Society Tour. I wanted to run away and live in a little old farmhouse in the Italian countryside when I read it.

3. towels packed, will travel - I love reading this blog. It has adventure, excitement, exotic travel and is written well. Everything you could want to perk up a dreary day.

4. Joe's Shitty Ideas - This blog is just funny. You should read it.

5. clotildajamcracker - It's honest, it's humorous and I really like reading it. The lunchtime in my soul is written well and really enjoyable reading.

6. Where are Danny Bent's books? - This man cycled to India. Cycled. To India. On a bike. Then wrote a book about it called You've Gone Too Far This Time, Sir! It's fantastically written and a joy to read. The blog is about some of his books which are currently travelling around the world. If you're stuck for a good book to read, I'd recommend this!

Ok, that's me done. Enjoy your Sunday!!


Saturday 9 June 2012

Murder at the Academy Awards! And Donald Duck...

Yesterday's Getting Excited About Stuff was relatively straight forward = It's Joan Rivers' birthday. Get hold of a book by/about Joan Rivers and read it.

Well, there wasn't one at the library and I thought about walking along to the book shop but I was a bit knackered after my long swim (my legs and arms ache a bit today, I kind of entered a trance and just kept going then realised I'd been in there for absolutely ages!). So I headed home and looked around on Kindle on my phone and found a book by Joan Rivers called Murder at the Academy Awards! (There was also one called Men Are Stupid... And They Like Big Boobs but I thought Murder at the Academy Awards looked better.) Can you imagine anything better than a few hours with your head in a potentially-trashy probably-rubbish book called Murder at the Academy Awards?! After the onslaught of Serious Facts and Textbooks that became my life recently, I have been revelling in the more frivolous side of life. I got stuck in.

It's told from the point of view of a reporter on the red carpet trying to snatch interviews with A-listers arriving at the Oscars. It's actually told quite well. I was surprised to read on Wikipedia that Joan has a degree in English Literature so what I was expecting - a loud-mouthed Hello! magazine but longer and with more insults - was not what I got. Of course it's brash, of course the insults fly (Cameron Diaz is given the what-for for wearing a dress that 'not even Winona Ryder would shoplift') but it's done quite well. Don't get confused here, I'm not telling you all to run out and buy it because it is a work of literary genius. But it's a fun read for an afternoon off work.

I'm only half way through so the mystery of how the star of the show dies, a young actress who spends her time in and out of rehab, is yet to be solved. The hilarity of the situation that the main character is now in is entertaining reading. She's having herself admitted to a rehab clinic with a pretend addiction, so that she can dig around and find out some gossip about how the starlet may have died. And she just lost her dog when taking it to the vet. And her bodyguard loves pantsuits. And she loves plastic surgery. It's all going on in Murder at the Academy Awards!

And so to today. 9th June. Would you believe it? In 1934, on 9th June, Donald Duck made his debut in The Wise Little Hen! So today, I shall spend some time getting excited about Donald Duck. I've read up on him. I know all about him and his rivalry with Mickey Mouse. He gets over it eventually and they are the best of friends. I know all about his career in films and his educational programmes for children. I know that he struggles with his temper. I even know what his sayings are. "What's the big idea?" is his most used. I also know about his health issues, he's quite lazy and all his friends think he needs to get some exercise. But one time he knocked a shark out with one punch so he's still pretty strong, even if he is lazy....

I hope you enjoyed that little fact-onslaught about Donald Duck. I feel we would all benefit a little from knowing more about Donald.

So today I am going to dress as a sailor. Well, not really. I'm just going to wear white trousers and a blue jumper. And say "What's the big idea?" to people. And maybe I'll watch The Wise Little Hen if I can find it on Youtube.

Friday 8 June 2012

When not to fall asleep (and a little bit of Joan Rivers)

Back to my gap year today for some handy hints on how not to behave when in a position of importance.

We ran a newspaper, Lucy and I, which was the only town newspaper. It was important that we reported all the local events as people in the town were quite proud of their little local paper. I can't tell you how many HIV/AIDs workshops we went to. Everything that was happening, we were at.

So the biggest and best event of the year had arrived. Independence Day! Everyone had been looking forward to it for months. Plans were under way, the kids from the local schools had fantastic little routines organised, the mayor would be there, the country's national football team would be there. It would be AMAZING.

The day before we had been at the local Crayfish Derby, which was massive fun. But it was quite a way out of town and we had had to leave midway through to walk back into town for a meeting about youth empowerment and small businesses. After the meeting we had then walked back out of town, quite a trek, to the Crayfish Derby to finish reporting on that. Walking under the sun is quite tiring.

The next day, we woke up early to go to the Independence Day celebrations, which were just at the bottom of the hill we lived on. Easy. We arrived, found some seats in the stadium and waited. It's quite normal to wait a while for most stuff but it takes a little bit of getting used to when you first go there. They played a bit of Celine Dion, they loved her there. Some kids did some dancing. We waited. The sun beat down on our faces. We feebly made notes in our notebooks. And kept waiting.

And then we made that fateful decision. We needed some water, we were far too hot, we were going to faint, it was urgent! We left our seats and saw a good friend arriving. He looked puzzled about why we were walking out, not in. We explained that we'd be back in a mo. We just needed some water. We were far too hot. See you soon!

We staggered up the hill, gasping. When we got home we gulped tons of water and sat down for a second to stay out of the heat until we had recovered.... And then we woke up, disorientated, and ran out of the house, and looked down the hill. And the celebration was over! Oops! We'd been asleep for the whole day!

We had to write about it for the newspaper though. Everyone would be expecting it. And it had to be front page, it was the biggest event of the year. Damn.

We had about three photos of the kids dancing before the celebrations had started. We blew them up really big so they took up loads of space, meaning we didn't need to write as much. We worked in a few of the local schools so we knew they had been organising a special dance routine, so we mentioned that. We had a fairly good idea of what the mayor had probably said, given that we had sat in on a lot of speeches she had made. We talked about people who had been there, like the football team and a few others we had seen before we left. And summed it up by saying it was a great day and loads of fun! Then put it on the front page and hoped no-one would notice. Loads of stuff must have happened that we didn't mention. Thankfully they didn't notice but I still wonder how we got away with it!

The moral from today is = Don't fall asleep when there's something of national importance happening and you write the most popular newspaper in town.



Feedback from yesterday's Getting Excited mission, which was to celebrate all things Filipino by wearing red and blue (two of the colours on the flag) and saying Hola to greet people (NOT how they say hello but there's a Spanish connection and I figured people would at least know what I was talking about) and by having fish for dinner (I remember eating a lot of fish in the Philippines). So in my not-very-spectacular way, I did all of these things and, while it didn't cause any great variation in my day, it did make me think of my friend who's birthday it is every time I did something. And that was nice. Because she's a nice friend. It was nice to be more conscious of reasons why the day was different to the others, instead of being all same-old-same-old.

Today I have two things to get excited about. One is that I'm going swimming when I've finished writing this... twice in a week after years of not even owning a swimming costume! I'm doing well. The other is that it's Joan Rivers' birthday today. (And the world's smallest man, but I can't do very much in terms of getting excited about that. I'm already quite short.) So Joan Rivers it is. On my way back from the swimming pool, I'm going to stop in the library and see if they have any of her books and I'll spend some time this afternoon being excited about Joan Rivers' birthday by reading a book she wrote. Maybe I'll get plastic surgery in honour of her as well....