Friday, 30 July 2010

Rocket Man

I’m over the moon at the moment. Today tickets went on sale for the second round of the 30 Seconds to Mars Into the Wild Tour. I saw the band (and the gorgeous lead singer Jared Leto) earlier on in the year and come November they are returning to Cardiff for part 2.

The concert in February was fantastic. Without doubt it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to and it caught me by surprise as I honestly wasn’t expecting it.

I’ve been not so quietly crushing on Jared Leto since he first appeared in ‘My So called Life’ many years ago. Any girl my age worth their salt will remember sighing deeply at the telly as the beautiful but dumb outsider Jordan Catalano wooed Claire Danes by performing with his band.

My So Called Life
As beautiful as the boy is however I always held a belief that he was probably a bit of an arse. As it turns he may well be an arse. In fact there is tale of him wandering through an award show party simply approaching every women in the place with the classy chat up line ‘Wanna fuck?’. Not exactly suave now is it? To be fair though men, if you looked like him, you probably wouldn’t need much chatter to get by. Girls are a sucker or a blue eyed boy. 

Arse or not though, the boy can perform.  The concert was spectacular. Jared Leto launched himself into the crowd on many occasions and they relocated the stage all over the place so no one was ever too far from the band for too long. The band also nattered with the audience between almost every song and had tonnes of people onstage for the finale. So a fab night all round.

I’m hoping November will be just as spectacular. Also, as Jared stared directly at me in Feb, let’s see if he’ll remember me . . .
The moment our eyes met ;-)

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Getting To Know You

Recently in work I had the ordeal of a 6 hour Team Building Meeting. The objective of this meeting was to get to know our colleagues better. *Shudder*

It seems that as an office worker I have no choice but to endure these gargantuan wastes of time periodically, so I resigned myself to a few boring hours of team huddles. Then I looked at the agenda:

Agenda Point 1: Icebreaker games 

Two words have surely never roused my heckles more than ‘Icebreaker Games’. For those of you that don’t work in an office & have never had to endure such a thing, ‘Icebreaker Games’ normally consist of some sort of group humiliation under the guise of getting to know each other better. 

Why why why does the corporate world feel the need for such bullshit? Believe it or not I’m a grownup. I am able to introduce myself to my colleagues and I somehow even manage to function in society without the need for group activities that serve only to humiliate us all.

The business world’s obsession with ‘organised fun’ is one that has haunted me ever since moving to Cardiff. From trust tests to beach days I’ve had just about enough of this trend. 
Why can’t I just come to work and, well, you know, WORK?! I’m all for interacting with my colleagues and even occasionally going out for lunch together but do we honestly all need to be strong-armed into becoming bosom buddies for the sake of the team?

At this point I would like to say I do have many wonderful colleagues/ex-colleagues that are friends of mine. However please believe me when I say that it wasn’t team building that made that happen. 
I feel I spend enough of my short life in work without it muscling in on my downtime as well and pray tell me why I much socialise with those colleagues that I haven’t chosen to befriend or know I’m not going to form a relationship with?

Surely I am not alone in this?  It's not a case of not wanting to know my colleagues it's more the fact that I don't want to be forced to be friends with people just because we work in the same office.    

As Im mentioned, I count some of my previous work colleagues amongst my greatest friends and I believe some of my current colleagues will be the same but I know there are also some that I have no interest in getting to know in any capacity other than work.  Is that really such a problem? 

Monday, 26 July 2010

If In Doubt Just Make It Up

When faced with the spelling of a difficult word you basically have 2 options:  
  1. Look it up in a dictionary.
  2. Just go ahead and misspell it while trying to get it as accurate as possible.

However after spotting this lovely flyer in a bus stop late one night I have found that there is indeed a 3rd option . . . Make the spelling up in a dramatic and enhancing way:

Step right up ladies and gentlemen and prepare to be amazed by my ‘Demontrashon’ of psychic ability.

Now I truly love this misspelling. It sounds accented, atmospheric and, ‘Demons-Trash-On’ seems oddly apt for this particular service.

However as much as I would enjoy a ‘Demontrashon’ in Clairvoyance I feel my limited money might be better spent elsewhere. Besides, how good a psychic can they be if didn’t foresee my post insulting their poster?

Monday, 12 July 2010


My hair needs cut. Currently it resembles a lions arse. It’s in desperately in need of some sweet lovin however; I just cannot bring myself to go get it sorted.

Why you may ask? Well the answer is simple, I HATE going to the hairdresser. It seriously bores me rigid. Two hours of sitting still while trying to make conversation with an overly tanned Barbie doll is my idea of hell. Honestly I would rather eat a wasp than exchange awkward niceties with the average hairdresser.

I don’t think I’m an anti social person by any stretch of the imagination but there is only so much idle chitchat I can take in one session. A visit to the hairdressers normally involves the following thoroughly dreary conversation for me:
HD – So you going out tonight to show of your new hair do?
Me – No.
HD – OMG did you see last night’s big brother?
Me – No.
HD – Have you been watching Eastenders?
Me – No.
HD – So you going on holiday this year?
Me – No.
So you see, not exactly thrilling entertainment now is it? Don’t get me wrong, I HAVE tried to enter into conversation but it always falls flat on its face.

The way I see it I have 3 options here:

1. Suck it up, and endure the 2 hours of awkward silence
2. Cut my hair myself or better yet, cut it off saving me any return visits to the salon.
3. Lie

I think I’m going to have to swallow my pride and go for option 3. I’ll lie through my teeth. I imagine I don’t actually have to watch Eastenders or Big Brother to know what’s going on, now, do I?

Thursday, 8 July 2010

Not Perfect

This year I’m turning 30 and while I’m not sure I’m there yet, I may someday in the future want one of those baby things as well. I’m getting on a bit now, so these things do need to be considered. Taking all this into consideration I decided a physical overhaul was in order. Tired of looking & feeling like a beached whale every time I enter a clothes shop, I’m seizing the opportunity to find my inner healthy & svelt self.

So over the past few weeks I’ve been slowly changing some things in my life. Nothing too drastic, just subtle easy changes.

First to go was my evening glass of wine. Now I love wine, and having a glass or 2 in the evening set the mood perfectly, however, when you consider 2 glasses of wine has a calorific equivalent of a bag of chips you soon realise it’s not worth it. I wouldn’t sit and eat a bag of chips every night now would I?

Food wise, I’ve eliminated my evening snacking, cutting down portion sizes & limited myself to one takeaway / meal out per week. As well as eating a tonne more fruit & veg I’ve transformed my eating habits.

I’ve also been doing a lot more exercise. Between my burlesque, squash & walking 1.6 miles each way to work every day I’m doing very well on the exercise front thank you very much.

So the other night, feeling, healthy, happy & positive I stepped on the scales only to discover that after all this work I’ve lost . . . 2 pounds. Deflated emotionally (though obviously not physically) I slunk back to the sofa with a glass of wine.

Feely fat, ugly and seriously in need of another bottle I pondered my miniscule weight loss. How? No really, how? I feel better, some of my clothes are bigger on me, I’m doing a lot of good work so why only 2 measly pounds? Now as my very beautiful yet somehow body conscious sister knows, I am the first person to say: “Feck weight, weight means nothing. It’s all about how you feel” but to be honest, if anyone had said that to me at that particular moment, I would have sat on them & shown them just damaging weight is.

The pressure to slim down these days is immense. And while I’m not one to normally bow to peer pressure I do feel it’s time to get myself in order. The big question is how?

There are several women in my work currently who have been championing a new diet. This diet involves not eating AT ALL for several months. While under the guidance of your Dr you are instead given sachets of minerals & supplements that your body requires. Now I don’t know about you but I see not eating as a rather radical option & it doesn’t even bear to think of the flaps of flesh that would be left as a result of such rapid weight loss without exercise. But to these women it’s simply an obvious weight loss option. Sorry, but I draw the line at tricking my body into believing it’s dying!

So, that leaves me with a slow, meandering alternative. Good old diet and exercise. I’m trying to keep positive and most importantly I have vowed NOT to weigh myself during this process. I have also realised that I need to be realistic. My body is what it is and that’s far from perfect. I’m never going to be a size 8 and my body isn’t going to miraculously transform overnight into that of a Pussycat Doll. I will however keep feeling healthier, more energetic and lead a happier, fuller life for, hopefully, longer. Surely to God that’s good enough?

‘This is my body
And it’s fine
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine’