Wednesday, 18 December 2019
The observationist: Age
The observationist: Age: Age before beauty? I mean, come on...i've seen some very attractive older people and some people who have aged horribly. Surely beauty i...
Age
Age before beauty? I mean, come on...i've seen some very attractive older people and some people who have aged horribly. Surely beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When folk say stupid shit like 40 is the new 20 or 50 is the new 30 i want to put pins in their eyes. 40 is always going to be 40 and 50 is always going to be 50. The only difference these days is that there are more injections you can have to lift your eyelids, stretch out your wrinkles and make your lips look fuller. You basically get chemically ironed. There are people who get a bit of 'work' done then deny it. Well how come you now resemble a cat and your boobs look thirty years younger than you? You may look slightly younger externally but your knees still make that weird crunching noise when you come down some stairs.
My lovely eldest daughter did my makeup for me a while ago and told me she was used to younger skin. How rude! Just because i've got that thirty year edge on her does not mean she can dis the lived in skin. I've seen stuff and lived stuff. My skin has seen and lived stuff. How very dare she?!
A friend of mine who is a more mature lady of a petite stature with funky blonde hair visited a well known supermarket (who shall remain ASDA) a few years ago. She was buying wine-don't judge her reader-and when she reached the till, wearing her large designer sunglasses, the much older shop assistant asked her for ID. My friend (who shall remain Kelly) lifted her sunnies and exclaimed 'excuse me?!' The much older shop assistant took a second look and said 'oh, sorry. It doesn't matter'. Cheeky bitch! I had a similar incident recently in the very same supermarket. I was also buying wine with my groceries. I approached the till and a 60+ woman was training a young slip of a lad. I put my shopping on the belt and when he got to the wine the 60+ said to the young lad 'now, when we're scanning alcohol we look at the customer-discreet like-and ask for ID'. She then looked me up and down and said 'on this occasion we won't bother'. Fuck me! I'm hardly hag like! I'm willing to put money on that it was the same woman that served my friend. Just because she looked like a well worn charity shop pleather handbag did not got give her the right to insult me. As you can tell, i'm still offended nearly 6 months later..
I find that as i get older i care less about what people think about me. That doesn't mean i don't still want to look nice, i do, i just don't have the energy to go for 15 mile runs anymore or resist that bavarian slice in the fridge.
People say 'you only live once' which is a ridiculous statement. You live every day but you die once. It just doesn't sound as succinct. YOLO is something the yoof say because they don't know any better. They're too busy pulling the middle out of themselves or 'aving it large in Ibiza focussing on 'finding myself'. Do me a favour. I didn't find myself until last week when i caught sight of my arse in a changing room mirror.
I haven't started looking around stately homes for fun yet but i do like a DIY shop. I also like to make sure my pantry, wine rack and freezer are constantly full incase it snows but i don't panic buy bread. I'm sort of on the cusp of old i think. I don't subscribe to anti ageing creams, tena lady or Saga holidays but they are looking more inviting every day.
When your'e a kid days seem like months and time passes by very slowly. All of a sudden you start to recognise fashions making a comeback and old songs being resurrected by some pop amoeba you've never heard of.
I remember, as a teenager, playing my choons so loud in my bedroom my dad had to climb a ladder up to my window to bang on it to tell me dinner was ready. My dad was a teenager in the 1960's and some of the crap he used to listen to back then was questionable at best. The group names like Dave,Dee,Dozy,Beaky,Mick and Titch and Manfred Mann were mental. Give me Goldie looking chain or Anthrax any day.
I walked past a shoe shop the other day and casually looked in the window. I saw a pair of flat boots and thought 'ooh they look comfortable'. Does that mean i'm getting old? I put my bra on the wrong way round and it fit better-is that a sure sign old is upon me? I don't know. What i do know is i can't hold a wee in like i used to and i like a dressing gown.
On a recent trip to my homeland, Dublin, with my bestie we wanted to go for a coffee. We must have walked about 10 miles extra around the city centre just so we could find a coffee shop that had two available seats so we could sit our decrepit bones down. Madness.
Once you get to 70+ there's plenty of help ot there if you need it. My nan used to be a home help where she would get paid to go around to old ladies and gents homes. She would do a bit of cleaning, run errands and cook them a meal. I went to stay with my nan when i was in my mid twenties so my nan would have been in her mid sixties at the time. One morning she popped her head around my bedroom door and told me she was popping out to see one of her old ladies. Bloody hell!!! If my nan was going to see who she considered to be an old lady, just how old was this woman? She must have given Methuzla a run for her money.
My teenagers think anyone over the age of thirty is old which doesn't bode well for me. When they were little and asked how old i was i used to tell them i was 21. One day they asked and i repeated '21'. They both said 'so is nanny!'. Rumbled. It's hard for kids to guess an adults age because it's an alien concept to them. Grown ups are old and that's it. We tell them that one day they'll be our age but they don't care. They're too busy taking selfies and doing vlogs or some shit. I like to remind my kids that it wasn't that long ago they were sitting in their own poo and breast feeding. I particularly like to do this if they show off in front of their mates. Keeping it real.
In conclusion, age comes to us all at some level. We creak, get grey hair in places we were not warned about, our gums recede, our bladder gripper gives up, we make noises getting up from a chair and when we get refused entry to a nightclub because we are too old we say 'thanks mate because my feet are fucking killing me'.
Grow old gracefully or disgracefully, the choice is yours. Age is just a number and you are still alive so live your best, much slower life.
Dum spiro spero (while i breathe i hope)
My lovely eldest daughter did my makeup for me a while ago and told me she was used to younger skin. How rude! Just because i've got that thirty year edge on her does not mean she can dis the lived in skin. I've seen stuff and lived stuff. My skin has seen and lived stuff. How very dare she?!
A friend of mine who is a more mature lady of a petite stature with funky blonde hair visited a well known supermarket (who shall remain ASDA) a few years ago. She was buying wine-don't judge her reader-and when she reached the till, wearing her large designer sunglasses, the much older shop assistant asked her for ID. My friend (who shall remain Kelly) lifted her sunnies and exclaimed 'excuse me?!' The much older shop assistant took a second look and said 'oh, sorry. It doesn't matter'. Cheeky bitch! I had a similar incident recently in the very same supermarket. I was also buying wine with my groceries. I approached the till and a 60+ woman was training a young slip of a lad. I put my shopping on the belt and when he got to the wine the 60+ said to the young lad 'now, when we're scanning alcohol we look at the customer-discreet like-and ask for ID'. She then looked me up and down and said 'on this occasion we won't bother'. Fuck me! I'm hardly hag like! I'm willing to put money on that it was the same woman that served my friend. Just because she looked like a well worn charity shop pleather handbag did not got give her the right to insult me. As you can tell, i'm still offended nearly 6 months later..
I find that as i get older i care less about what people think about me. That doesn't mean i don't still want to look nice, i do, i just don't have the energy to go for 15 mile runs anymore or resist that bavarian slice in the fridge.
People say 'you only live once' which is a ridiculous statement. You live every day but you die once. It just doesn't sound as succinct. YOLO is something the yoof say because they don't know any better. They're too busy pulling the middle out of themselves or 'aving it large in Ibiza focussing on 'finding myself'. Do me a favour. I didn't find myself until last week when i caught sight of my arse in a changing room mirror.
I haven't started looking around stately homes for fun yet but i do like a DIY shop. I also like to make sure my pantry, wine rack and freezer are constantly full incase it snows but i don't panic buy bread. I'm sort of on the cusp of old i think. I don't subscribe to anti ageing creams, tena lady or Saga holidays but they are looking more inviting every day.
When your'e a kid days seem like months and time passes by very slowly. All of a sudden you start to recognise fashions making a comeback and old songs being resurrected by some pop amoeba you've never heard of.
I remember, as a teenager, playing my choons so loud in my bedroom my dad had to climb a ladder up to my window to bang on it to tell me dinner was ready. My dad was a teenager in the 1960's and some of the crap he used to listen to back then was questionable at best. The group names like Dave,Dee,Dozy,Beaky,Mick and Titch and Manfred Mann were mental. Give me Goldie looking chain or Anthrax any day.
I walked past a shoe shop the other day and casually looked in the window. I saw a pair of flat boots and thought 'ooh they look comfortable'. Does that mean i'm getting old? I put my bra on the wrong way round and it fit better-is that a sure sign old is upon me? I don't know. What i do know is i can't hold a wee in like i used to and i like a dressing gown.
On a recent trip to my homeland, Dublin, with my bestie we wanted to go for a coffee. We must have walked about 10 miles extra around the city centre just so we could find a coffee shop that had two available seats so we could sit our decrepit bones down. Madness.
Once you get to 70+ there's plenty of help ot there if you need it. My nan used to be a home help where she would get paid to go around to old ladies and gents homes. She would do a bit of cleaning, run errands and cook them a meal. I went to stay with my nan when i was in my mid twenties so my nan would have been in her mid sixties at the time. One morning she popped her head around my bedroom door and told me she was popping out to see one of her old ladies. Bloody hell!!! If my nan was going to see who she considered to be an old lady, just how old was this woman? She must have given Methuzla a run for her money.
My teenagers think anyone over the age of thirty is old which doesn't bode well for me. When they were little and asked how old i was i used to tell them i was 21. One day they asked and i repeated '21'. They both said 'so is nanny!'. Rumbled. It's hard for kids to guess an adults age because it's an alien concept to them. Grown ups are old and that's it. We tell them that one day they'll be our age but they don't care. They're too busy taking selfies and doing vlogs or some shit. I like to remind my kids that it wasn't that long ago they were sitting in their own poo and breast feeding. I particularly like to do this if they show off in front of their mates. Keeping it real.
In conclusion, age comes to us all at some level. We creak, get grey hair in places we were not warned about, our gums recede, our bladder gripper gives up, we make noises getting up from a chair and when we get refused entry to a nightclub because we are too old we say 'thanks mate because my feet are fucking killing me'.
Grow old gracefully or disgracefully, the choice is yours. Age is just a number and you are still alive so live your best, much slower life.
Dum spiro spero (while i breathe i hope)
Wednesday, 20 November 2019
The observationist: Social Media And The Internet
The observationist: Social Media And The Internet: The age of digitisation is upon us and it's everywhere we look. The internet has it's good points, bad points and very bad points. G...
Social Media And The Internet
The age of digitisation is upon us and it's everywhere we look. The internet has it's good points, bad points and very bad points. Good for finding out pointless trivia, bad for being a conversation killer. Such as, did you know that Bob Holness, host of TV quiz show Blockbusters, was the first ever James Bond on South African radio in 1956? But did you also know that Sir Bob of Holness also played the saxophone solo on Baker street by Gerry Rafferty? No? Well that's because he didn't. It was Raphael Ravenscroft. There you go, conversation killer. I hate Google gonads. They are very boring people with absolutely no imagination. I wonder how often the look up 'why have i got no friends left'. I use word hippo a lot when i'm writing mainly because i've run out of amusing noun synonyms. I looked up a British favourite 'dickhead' and the word 'langer' came up. It amused me for 5 minutes but then i discovered a myriad of other words which i have now stored in my 'names to call Audi drivers' part of my brain. Words such as clod, chode, nyaff, shitfucker and asshat. You, dear reader, are welcome.
I'm not knocking the internet because i use it a lot, especially when doing research. The internet is great for a lot of stuff like doing my kids homework. We shop on-line, play games, slag off celebrities, watch videos, do our banking and wanking and a million other things but the most common thing we do on-line is use social media.
The most used social media platform is Facebook with around 2.8 billion users. 2.2 billion people use at least one of the Facebook off shoots every day. I only know this because i looked it up using my preferred search engine-Dogpile. I ain't no google gonad! This does, however, beg the question...what the fuck were we doing before the internet? The mind boggles...think i'll look it up.
Social media can be amazing for connecting people to long lost friends or family but more and more we see keyboard warriors who have nothing better to do than cyber bully other people they often don't know. Asshats, the lot of them! I can't abide bullying in any form but at least have the decency to flush my head down the loo or take my dinner money or give me dirty looks. Don't sit at home with your screen of choice typing bile and hate slowly eating away at someone's self esteem reducing them to sleepless nights and self loathing because you don't have the actual balls to step outside of your safety bubble and enter the real world. Chances are if you did you would probably have an asthma attack while eating a gluten/dairy/sugar free rice cake because you chose the wrong pleather sandal...that's if the sunlight doesn't kill you first. Man the fuck up princesses. Even the term 'keyboard warrior' pisses me off. There is nothing warrior like about these pathetic turd skins.
Other social media platforms like Twitter, Instatwat, Snapwank, TikTok, pinterest, Flickr, WhatsApp, Tumblr, Visco and Youtube are really popular but they are all based on how many 'likes' or 'retweets' or 'shares' the user gets. This particular aspect doesn't matter so much with well rounded adult users but a lot of teens use it like a life manual and put themselves under enormous pressure to get the most hits on their accounts. Teens suffering from anxiety because not enough people 'liked' their photo of their dog taken during 'golden hour'. Golden hour, for the uninitiated, is the time of day when the sun comes up or goes down producing the best natural light to take a photo with optimum clarity. I only know this little gem because i have two selfie obsessed teenage daughters who have trampled me under foot in their rush to get outside during golden hour to take photos. Me? I just look out of a window using my eyes. Proper old skool. Because of this fake popularity contest,amongst mainly teenagers, Instagram have recently changed their policies to restrict or hide the amount of likes a post gets.This hasn't gone down well with folk who rely on the amount of likes they get so they can flog their wares or just get through a day. Do me a favour. The world has gone mad! Some Facebook users add people as 'friends' just so they look good in the popularity stakes. They don't know them but when these people they don't know don't respond to a post they have a meltdown. If i see one more post on Facebook which says something like 'if you don't give me any attention i'm gonna delete you because i'm a needy twat' i'm probably not going to notice anyway. These sheeple should probably delete themselves from the gene pool or try getting a life where they don't have to rely on someone blowing smoke up their arse or clapping their hands shouting 'ooh look...they done a fing' which to be honest chances are they didn't do themselves anyway. These sycophantic, self serving shithouses are making me quite bilious. Now fuck off and get some real mates who love you no matter what. Who'll tell you when your'e being a dick then tell you they love you, who'll laugh in your face if you fall over then help you up, who'll cry with you when your'e hurting, who'll give you their last £ when your'e skint, who'll be there for you at your worst and your best, who'll come round to see you then nap on your sofa after stealing the love of your pets, but most of all the good people who will cross oceans to be with you. We should all be more ocean.
I researched other apps for the purpose of this blog just to see what else was out there and i was surprised to find some really useful ones but unsurprised to find some really weird ones. Useful ones like Cafemom which is for young mothers and expectant mothers which offers great advice unlike the patronising tones of Mumsnet. FourSquare is a great local search app which helps you find the perfect place to eat or shop or pretty much anything based on your location. this one has around 40 million users but i'd never heard of it until now. Cellufun and Discord are apps with over 250 million users for the gamer community. Thedots and DeviantArt are apps for the art community, reverberation is a great app for musicians and professionals to connect within the music industry. Funnyordie is a good app for comedians of any genre or discipline and a lot of celebrities follow this particular platform. A few of the less popular or useful to the masses apps are ravelry which is for knitting nerds, Care2 is for sandal wearers and people who think they can save the world by eating tofu and sucking the milk out of an almond, Classmates is an app for finding old classmates but is most likely used to stalk ex boyfriends or to see how fat that slag, Sue, has got.
Dating sites and apps are as popular now as when they were first launched. Match.com, meetup, badoo, tagged, meetme, muzmatch, elitesingles, e-harmony and plentyoffish are a few of the tamer ones where you might meet someone nice, go for a drink maybe have a bit of a snog. At the other end of the spectrum you have Tinder, blendr and Grindr. Tinder is for straight guys and gals who are basically looking for sex. You swipe like, exchange phone numbers, meet up and get pumped in the back of a vauxhall vivre. Classy. Grindr is for for gay/bi/trans guys and gals who want a quicky. This is my all time favourite app. I mean, where else can you get a mobile alert that lets you know there's someone 3 feet away that wants to suck you off? Bloody brilliant. I am definitely coming back in the next life as a gay man. Blendr, invented by the same guy who gave us Grindr is just a free for all.
The one thing i don't like about some dating apps is the ease of flashing. Gone are the days of some dude with a beard (always a beard...why?) jumping out from behind a hedge with his lad out. Nowadays blokes flash their nobs via a phone with alarming regularity and at the drop of a hat and women flash a boob like they're breast feeding the nation. I call it 'the Rasputin effect'. Nobs and knockers all over the gaff whether you want them or not. Rasputin the infamous sex pest who happened to have a beard.
To conclude, social media and the internet are an almost necessary evil and used at some point in our daily routines even if it's behind the scenes. Use them both wisely. Remember that nothing is ever permanently deleted even when you think it is, don't be cruel, love one and other, take lots of photos, create conversations-don't kill them, make friends, find friends, buy stuff, sell stuff, be kind, learn new words but most of all stop flashing at strangers. What would your Nan think?
I'm not knocking the internet because i use it a lot, especially when doing research. The internet is great for a lot of stuff like doing my kids homework. We shop on-line, play games, slag off celebrities, watch videos, do our banking and wanking and a million other things but the most common thing we do on-line is use social media.
The most used social media platform is Facebook with around 2.8 billion users. 2.2 billion people use at least one of the Facebook off shoots every day. I only know this because i looked it up using my preferred search engine-Dogpile. I ain't no google gonad! This does, however, beg the question...what the fuck were we doing before the internet? The mind boggles...think i'll look it up.
Social media can be amazing for connecting people to long lost friends or family but more and more we see keyboard warriors who have nothing better to do than cyber bully other people they often don't know. Asshats, the lot of them! I can't abide bullying in any form but at least have the decency to flush my head down the loo or take my dinner money or give me dirty looks. Don't sit at home with your screen of choice typing bile and hate slowly eating away at someone's self esteem reducing them to sleepless nights and self loathing because you don't have the actual balls to step outside of your safety bubble and enter the real world. Chances are if you did you would probably have an asthma attack while eating a gluten/dairy/sugar free rice cake because you chose the wrong pleather sandal...that's if the sunlight doesn't kill you first. Man the fuck up princesses. Even the term 'keyboard warrior' pisses me off. There is nothing warrior like about these pathetic turd skins.
Other social media platforms like Twitter, Instatwat, Snapwank, TikTok, pinterest, Flickr, WhatsApp, Tumblr, Visco and Youtube are really popular but they are all based on how many 'likes' or 'retweets' or 'shares' the user gets. This particular aspect doesn't matter so much with well rounded adult users but a lot of teens use it like a life manual and put themselves under enormous pressure to get the most hits on their accounts. Teens suffering from anxiety because not enough people 'liked' their photo of their dog taken during 'golden hour'. Golden hour, for the uninitiated, is the time of day when the sun comes up or goes down producing the best natural light to take a photo with optimum clarity. I only know this little gem because i have two selfie obsessed teenage daughters who have trampled me under foot in their rush to get outside during golden hour to take photos. Me? I just look out of a window using my eyes. Proper old skool. Because of this fake popularity contest,amongst mainly teenagers, Instagram have recently changed their policies to restrict or hide the amount of likes a post gets.This hasn't gone down well with folk who rely on the amount of likes they get so they can flog their wares or just get through a day. Do me a favour. The world has gone mad! Some Facebook users add people as 'friends' just so they look good in the popularity stakes. They don't know them but when these people they don't know don't respond to a post they have a meltdown. If i see one more post on Facebook which says something like 'if you don't give me any attention i'm gonna delete you because i'm a needy twat' i'm probably not going to notice anyway. These sheeple should probably delete themselves from the gene pool or try getting a life where they don't have to rely on someone blowing smoke up their arse or clapping their hands shouting 'ooh look...they done a fing' which to be honest chances are they didn't do themselves anyway. These sycophantic, self serving shithouses are making me quite bilious. Now fuck off and get some real mates who love you no matter what. Who'll tell you when your'e being a dick then tell you they love you, who'll laugh in your face if you fall over then help you up, who'll cry with you when your'e hurting, who'll give you their last £ when your'e skint, who'll be there for you at your worst and your best, who'll come round to see you then nap on your sofa after stealing the love of your pets, but most of all the good people who will cross oceans to be with you. We should all be more ocean.
I researched other apps for the purpose of this blog just to see what else was out there and i was surprised to find some really useful ones but unsurprised to find some really weird ones. Useful ones like Cafemom which is for young mothers and expectant mothers which offers great advice unlike the patronising tones of Mumsnet. FourSquare is a great local search app which helps you find the perfect place to eat or shop or pretty much anything based on your location. this one has around 40 million users but i'd never heard of it until now. Cellufun and Discord are apps with over 250 million users for the gamer community. Thedots and DeviantArt are apps for the art community, reverberation is a great app for musicians and professionals to connect within the music industry. Funnyordie is a good app for comedians of any genre or discipline and a lot of celebrities follow this particular platform. A few of the less popular or useful to the masses apps are ravelry which is for knitting nerds, Care2 is for sandal wearers and people who think they can save the world by eating tofu and sucking the milk out of an almond, Classmates is an app for finding old classmates but is most likely used to stalk ex boyfriends or to see how fat that slag, Sue, has got.
Dating sites and apps are as popular now as when they were first launched. Match.com, meetup, badoo, tagged, meetme, muzmatch, elitesingles, e-harmony and plentyoffish are a few of the tamer ones where you might meet someone nice, go for a drink maybe have a bit of a snog. At the other end of the spectrum you have Tinder, blendr and Grindr. Tinder is for straight guys and gals who are basically looking for sex. You swipe like, exchange phone numbers, meet up and get pumped in the back of a vauxhall vivre. Classy. Grindr is for for gay/bi/trans guys and gals who want a quicky. This is my all time favourite app. I mean, where else can you get a mobile alert that lets you know there's someone 3 feet away that wants to suck you off? Bloody brilliant. I am definitely coming back in the next life as a gay man. Blendr, invented by the same guy who gave us Grindr is just a free for all.
The one thing i don't like about some dating apps is the ease of flashing. Gone are the days of some dude with a beard (always a beard...why?) jumping out from behind a hedge with his lad out. Nowadays blokes flash their nobs via a phone with alarming regularity and at the drop of a hat and women flash a boob like they're breast feeding the nation. I call it 'the Rasputin effect'. Nobs and knockers all over the gaff whether you want them or not. Rasputin the infamous sex pest who happened to have a beard.
To conclude, social media and the internet are an almost necessary evil and used at some point in our daily routines even if it's behind the scenes. Use them both wisely. Remember that nothing is ever permanently deleted even when you think it is, don't be cruel, love one and other, take lots of photos, create conversations-don't kill them, make friends, find friends, buy stuff, sell stuff, be kind, learn new words but most of all stop flashing at strangers. What would your Nan think?
Wednesday, 6 November 2019
The observationist: Money
The observationist: Money: Money, cash, dosh, moolah, scheckles, wonga, spondoolicks, whatever you call it, we either don't have enough or want more when we do hav...
Money
Money, cash, dosh, moolah, scheckles, wonga, spondoolicks, whatever you call it, we either don't have enough or want more when we do have enough. Money makes the world go around according to Liza minelli and that irritating song. Irritating and factually incorrect.
I was a single parent to two daughters for nine years and after my ex husband left we had nothing. I was so thrifty and economically bereft i probably could have done a better job than the chancellor of the exchequer. I had my own GDP. Once my youngest started pre-school i put myself through university to get my B.A and had a part time job cheffing. I forgot what sleep was but i was never going to let my situation get the better of me.
I wasn't born into money or handed anything on a plate. I worked hard and continue to do so. People who look down on folk down on their luck piss me off immensely. They assume the worst and are most often wrong. The stigma attached to being a single parent is, in most circumstances, unjust and unfair. We don't wake up one morning and think 'hey...you know what i'd love to do with my life...' The situation arises for various reasons. Mine was marrying a despicable copper bottomed shit who invented the little black book. I was unfortunate but life goes on.
I write for a living now, which i love, and i have a wonderful partner who i also love.
My mum came from an affluent background and will readily tell you that her family were the first on their street to get a television. It might be worth noting that this was 1950's Yorkshire and not 1980's Newcastle. My dad, however, was born into poverty. He used to tell me and my sister that he was so poor his mum used to paint his feet black and lace his toes up or that when he were a lad he used to have to get excited watching kids go to the fair. I suspect the first one to be a fib mainly because he told us a lot of mad shit and still does. For example he also told us that he was so tough as a kid that during the war he was evacuated to London. Just to clarify, my dad was born in 1950.
Where you live depicts your social status and depends on what you earn-or at least that is the view by today's society. If you live in a council property then you are considered skint, lazy or a benefits scrounger, if you live in a large house or cottage in a nice village you are considered well off. If you live in a mansion or a castle you are considered a bit of a twat. None of which are entirely true apart from maybe the last one. I live in a nice village where in the words of my long suffering partner 'there's a lot of money in this village and none of it's ours'. We have a pub, a community centre and a church in our village. No shops. Most of us go to the pub at least once a week where we chat and have a laugh with absolutely no pretense. The village folk are good people and have made us feel welcome although if my Irish family rocked up one day with their dogs on pieces of string and asking why the Guinness in the pub tastes like shite they may take a different view.
The reason behind my partner making the comment about none of the money being ours is because i like to spend it on holidays...regularly. What better thing is there to spend our hard earned cash on? Haters hate if you like-i won't hear you from Greece. Him indoors complains i've booked another holiday but i don't see him complaining at the all inclusive bar or when he's snoring on a sun lounger. The poor bastard.
Some folk spend their money on cars or motorbikes or clothes but we all, at some point, spend our money on bills. Bills are a boring necessity which means you are officially a grown up. The childish voice in my head still wants to spend money on sweets and comics and fuck the council tax. I don't listen to that voice because if i did i'd be living in a converted bean bag eating my own toe nails. It's time to put away childish things.
The best piece of advice i've been handed down by one of my beloved aunties is 'you don't get rich by spending your money'. I live by this until i find a bargain holiday somewhere warm.
Some people are good with money and some aren't. It's just the way it is. I do the finances in my household and i like to pay the bills and save where i can. I'm a bit like Shylock but not as generous and without a beard. Everyone else in my house likes to spend money willy nilly (ha ha...she said willy-that's the childish comic buying voice in my head again) My kids are pretty good with money most of the time. I've trained them to respect the money they earn but that doesn't seem to translate with the money i earn. That is fair game. My youngest daughter is the only kid i know that will try and spend money at a doctor's surgery. She makes Elton John look like an ameteur. The sultan of Brunei would blush at her concept of other people's money. She's a good kid though and she'll do alright. She's already a published poet and sports photographer so i don't worry.
To conclude this blog i'll leave you to read and digest some dodgy Abba lyrics penned from their hit 'money money money'.
'in my dreams i have a plan,
if i get a wealthy man
i wouldn't have to work at all
i'd fool around
i'd have a ball'
What the actual fuck??? This song was written by two men for two women to sing. They are basically referring to women as vacuous money grabbing hose beasts with absolutely no moral compass and who can't survive without finding a rich bloke ( or O.I.L - old ill and loaded) Times have changed since the 1970's ladies and gents. We women want orgasms now too.
I was a single parent to two daughters for nine years and after my ex husband left we had nothing. I was so thrifty and economically bereft i probably could have done a better job than the chancellor of the exchequer. I had my own GDP. Once my youngest started pre-school i put myself through university to get my B.A and had a part time job cheffing. I forgot what sleep was but i was never going to let my situation get the better of me.
I wasn't born into money or handed anything on a plate. I worked hard and continue to do so. People who look down on folk down on their luck piss me off immensely. They assume the worst and are most often wrong. The stigma attached to being a single parent is, in most circumstances, unjust and unfair. We don't wake up one morning and think 'hey...you know what i'd love to do with my life...' The situation arises for various reasons. Mine was marrying a despicable copper bottomed shit who invented the little black book. I was unfortunate but life goes on.
I write for a living now, which i love, and i have a wonderful partner who i also love.
My mum came from an affluent background and will readily tell you that her family were the first on their street to get a television. It might be worth noting that this was 1950's Yorkshire and not 1980's Newcastle. My dad, however, was born into poverty. He used to tell me and my sister that he was so poor his mum used to paint his feet black and lace his toes up or that when he were a lad he used to have to get excited watching kids go to the fair. I suspect the first one to be a fib mainly because he told us a lot of mad shit and still does. For example he also told us that he was so tough as a kid that during the war he was evacuated to London. Just to clarify, my dad was born in 1950.
Where you live depicts your social status and depends on what you earn-or at least that is the view by today's society. If you live in a council property then you are considered skint, lazy or a benefits scrounger, if you live in a large house or cottage in a nice village you are considered well off. If you live in a mansion or a castle you are considered a bit of a twat. None of which are entirely true apart from maybe the last one. I live in a nice village where in the words of my long suffering partner 'there's a lot of money in this village and none of it's ours'. We have a pub, a community centre and a church in our village. No shops. Most of us go to the pub at least once a week where we chat and have a laugh with absolutely no pretense. The village folk are good people and have made us feel welcome although if my Irish family rocked up one day with their dogs on pieces of string and asking why the Guinness in the pub tastes like shite they may take a different view.
The reason behind my partner making the comment about none of the money being ours is because i like to spend it on holidays...regularly. What better thing is there to spend our hard earned cash on? Haters hate if you like-i won't hear you from Greece. Him indoors complains i've booked another holiday but i don't see him complaining at the all inclusive bar or when he's snoring on a sun lounger. The poor bastard.
Some folk spend their money on cars or motorbikes or clothes but we all, at some point, spend our money on bills. Bills are a boring necessity which means you are officially a grown up. The childish voice in my head still wants to spend money on sweets and comics and fuck the council tax. I don't listen to that voice because if i did i'd be living in a converted bean bag eating my own toe nails. It's time to put away childish things.
The best piece of advice i've been handed down by one of my beloved aunties is 'you don't get rich by spending your money'. I live by this until i find a bargain holiday somewhere warm.
Some people are good with money and some aren't. It's just the way it is. I do the finances in my household and i like to pay the bills and save where i can. I'm a bit like Shylock but not as generous and without a beard. Everyone else in my house likes to spend money willy nilly (ha ha...she said willy-that's the childish comic buying voice in my head again) My kids are pretty good with money most of the time. I've trained them to respect the money they earn but that doesn't seem to translate with the money i earn. That is fair game. My youngest daughter is the only kid i know that will try and spend money at a doctor's surgery. She makes Elton John look like an ameteur. The sultan of Brunei would blush at her concept of other people's money. She's a good kid though and she'll do alright. She's already a published poet and sports photographer so i don't worry.
To conclude this blog i'll leave you to read and digest some dodgy Abba lyrics penned from their hit 'money money money'.
'in my dreams i have a plan,
if i get a wealthy man
i wouldn't have to work at all
i'd fool around
i'd have a ball'
What the actual fuck??? This song was written by two men for two women to sing. They are basically referring to women as vacuous money grabbing hose beasts with absolutely no moral compass and who can't survive without finding a rich bloke ( or O.I.L - old ill and loaded) Times have changed since the 1970's ladies and gents. We women want orgasms now too.
Wednesday, 16 October 2019
The observationist: halloween
The observationist: halloween: But we see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!-it wr...
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