Today I got thinking about texting, and text conversations. Texting is great because it means you don't have to phone; there's no awkward 'okay gotta go now, bye...oh wait you've just started up talking again'. You can just not text back. However, we all have that one friend who never ends the text cycle. I think I might be that friend for a lot of people. I had this friend a while ago, but they moved to the USA meaning I now have a valid excuse not to text them ever. Conversations would go something like this:
Me: Home now, had fab night, see you soon!
Textaholic: Me too! What are you doing now?
Me: Erm...going to bed. You?
Textaholic: Same! Just brushing my teeth. It's cold, isn't it?
Me: Yes. I'm getting a hot water bottle.
Textaholic: Oh good idea, I'm going to do that too! And I'm putting the heating on. Have you got yours on?
Me: Yep xx
Textaholic: Good, you don't want to catch a cold! What're you up to now?
Me: In bed, about to go to sleep...
Textaholic: Me too!!! Are you reading your book?
This is where I used to turn my phone off, and text in the morning saying 'sorry, fell asleep xxx' at which point to horrendous text cycle would resume.
x's in text messages are proportional to one of the following:
a) how much you like a person
b) guilt for feeling you've not seen that person enough recently
c) friendly attempt to end the conversation
In other text-related news, this morning my mother texted me saying 'ook'. When I asked her what she meant, she explained that she was being an orang-utan.
And people think I'M strange.
Sunday, 4 March 2012
Friday, 2 March 2012
Friday
Today my friend and I went on a walk to Grouty Fairy, a small town near us. It was a long walk, and on the way we encountered many strange things.
Firstly, we were stopped from accidentally walking onto a cycle path by a security guard, who kindly directed us to the nearest footpath. However, his kindness did not distract us from the fact that there are security guarded cycle paths. Photographic ID is needed to access these cycle paths. I am not sure why; I have images of cyclists smuggling bushels and bits of twig. Perhaps they get caught in random bag searches. Maybe if there is mud on their bicycle tyres they have to return it.
We also found the second best kitchen shop EVER and I bought salt and pepper shakers, as well as a mini chopping board (for chopping little things). Almost bought a cheese knife, but it was too big to look good on my heart-shaped cheeseboard.
Went to the gym and there was a good looking man on a bike. After wondering if he had access to secret cycle paths, I started trying to send him psychic vibes of 'say hello to the nice girl on the cross trainer...' I then realised that I was on a cross trainer, wearing a baggy t-shirt reading 'I am not dead yet' and no make up, so began sending him vibes of 'stay where you are, ignore all cross trainers and go about your business'. Now understand why men I talk to look permanently confused; they don't know which psychic vibe to follow.
Also saw the frenemy in the gym...didn't look directly at her. Was surprised she even knows what a gym is; she looks to me as though she comfort eats A LOT - I like to think she does this out of repentance for ruining my life. I never comfort eat as I have more grit than that; I FURY eat.
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Calories
As I have already stated, I am currently on a quest to lose a few pounds (if anyone asks how many, I will END them). Instead of taking mad diet pills, or another juice fast (which ended in me eating an entire 14" pizza), I have decided to take the sensible option and COUNT MY CALORIES.
The problem is calories tend to sneak up on you when you least expect it.
How could anyone know my veggie pasta bolognese would have 350 cals?! It's pasta and soya!!! And red wine - why are there calories in liquids? This shouldn't be allowed; I want calorie free alcohol.
Chocolate I knew would be high calorie but I eat it anyway because it is my right as a raging hormonal woman. Plus I have a cold, and you're supposed to feed a cold. As this is a particularly fat-bastard cold, it definitely needed some chocolate.
Anyway, the upshot is I've gone over my calorie allowance for today, have had to change my evening wine to a small glass, and even then I am going to need to drag people out dancing so I can burn off some calories that way.
Sea monkeys don't need to diet. Bastards.
The problem is calories tend to sneak up on you when you least expect it.
How could anyone know my veggie pasta bolognese would have 350 cals?! It's pasta and soya!!! And red wine - why are there calories in liquids? This shouldn't be allowed; I want calorie free alcohol.
Chocolate I knew would be high calorie but I eat it anyway because it is my right as a raging hormonal woman. Plus I have a cold, and you're supposed to feed a cold. As this is a particularly fat-bastard cold, it definitely needed some chocolate.
Anyway, the upshot is I've gone over my calorie allowance for today, have had to change my evening wine to a small glass, and even then I am going to need to drag people out dancing so I can burn off some calories that way.
Sea monkeys don't need to diet. Bastards.
Monday, 27 February 2012
Rugby
Yesterday I went to watch a live rugby match. It was brilliant! Want to go again. Also want to go to Alton Towers, and to the Edinburgh zoo to see the pandas.
I can now see the appeal of 'rugger-buggers'; they are strapping young men, and there is definitely something attractive about a man who can tackle another to the ground. Naturally this got me thinking about dating rugby boys, and then becoming a rugby WAG...until I thought of the mud. If you were in a relationship with a rugby player, where would you put their rugby boots? They couldn't come into the house. And leaving them outside isn't suitable as if it rained the boots would probably be ruined. And then there are the muddy clothes...can't stand thinking about all that mud coming in my kitchen, in my washing machine...I'd need to rinse the clothes out with a hose first before bringing them inside. Unless they could leave their muddy stuff in their locker room...
This is too much hassle for me, I don't ever want to go out with a rugby player.
In other news I found out on Friday that I am psychic. I went into this shop to buy a stone (I like stones) and found one I liked. When I went to pay for it the man said 'oh, psychic people are often drawn to opalite'. I thought I picked it because it was a nice shape and looked pretty, but now understand that I am a psychic. As a psychic I have new responsibilities, and must only use these new powers for good. So far I have had a dream about snow, so I am predicting this for March 10th. I also dreamt that one of my sea monkeys turned into a salamander and tried to attack me, so suspect I will either see a lizard this week or someone will annoy me.
I can now see the appeal of 'rugger-buggers'; they are strapping young men, and there is definitely something attractive about a man who can tackle another to the ground. Naturally this got me thinking about dating rugby boys, and then becoming a rugby WAG...until I thought of the mud. If you were in a relationship with a rugby player, where would you put their rugby boots? They couldn't come into the house. And leaving them outside isn't suitable as if it rained the boots would probably be ruined. And then there are the muddy clothes...can't stand thinking about all that mud coming in my kitchen, in my washing machine...I'd need to rinse the clothes out with a hose first before bringing them inside. Unless they could leave their muddy stuff in their locker room...
This is too much hassle for me, I don't ever want to go out with a rugby player.
In other news I found out on Friday that I am psychic. I went into this shop to buy a stone (I like stones) and found one I liked. When I went to pay for it the man said 'oh, psychic people are often drawn to opalite'. I thought I picked it because it was a nice shape and looked pretty, but now understand that I am a psychic. As a psychic I have new responsibilities, and must only use these new powers for good. So far I have had a dream about snow, so I am predicting this for March 10th. I also dreamt that one of my sea monkeys turned into a salamander and tried to attack me, so suspect I will either see a lizard this week or someone will annoy me.
Saturday, 25 February 2012
First Review
I've noticed a lot of bloggers write reviews, so here is my attempt at one:
At the moment I am over my weight category for an upcoming chess tournament. To lose weight one has to be sensible, and the problem is I am not sensible and have a tendency to do mad things that usually end up in me gaining weight.
This morning I decided to try a 'fat burner'. This is a pill which is basically loaded with caffeine, and supposedly makes you burn lots of fat, therefore losing weight. Took the pill, felt a bit dizzy and jittery, so ate a mars bar to revive self.
Verdict: they don't work.
At the moment I am over my weight category for an upcoming chess tournament. To lose weight one has to be sensible, and the problem is I am not sensible and have a tendency to do mad things that usually end up in me gaining weight.
This morning I decided to try a 'fat burner'. This is a pill which is basically loaded with caffeine, and supposedly makes you burn lots of fat, therefore losing weight. Took the pill, felt a bit dizzy and jittery, so ate a mars bar to revive self.
Verdict: they don't work.
Friday, 24 February 2012
a question of sport
Have started singing 'soft kitty' (Big Bang Theory) to my sea monkeys.
Think it is good that I am going out tonight as perhaps less reading and more human contact will end this mad behaviour.
In other news, I have been trying to learn about rugby as I will be seeing my first ever rugby game on Sunday. Have always found rugby quite strange as it seems to be a homoerotic display of fat men with no teeth wrestling in mud, yet I am now realising that it is in fact a real sport with rules. In Roman times kids used to play a game where they used to whack each other over the head with a wooden club, and the last person remaining conscious won...think rugby might be a bit like that.
In Medieval Wales, they used to play a game called 'the badger in the bag', where a person would get in a sack and people would hit it with sticks going 'what's in the bag? A badger!' - have not yet found a game which recreates this. Perhaps rounders.
Ergh rounders. I am convinced that this game was invented as a form of child abuse. There is nothing fun about running around 'bases' in the blazing heat whilst people flail madly about with a bat trying to get you 'out' with a ball. I always used to go deep field to avoid actually having to do anything, but the teacher noticed and made me 'practice long jump'. Another form of vicious punishment; if I wanted sand up my ass I'd go to the beach.
happy kitty sleepy kitty purr purr purrrrrr
Think it is good that I am going out tonight as perhaps less reading and more human contact will end this mad behaviour.
In other news, I have been trying to learn about rugby as I will be seeing my first ever rugby game on Sunday. Have always found rugby quite strange as it seems to be a homoerotic display of fat men with no teeth wrestling in mud, yet I am now realising that it is in fact a real sport with rules. In Roman times kids used to play a game where they used to whack each other over the head with a wooden club, and the last person remaining conscious won...think rugby might be a bit like that.
In Medieval Wales, they used to play a game called 'the badger in the bag', where a person would get in a sack and people would hit it with sticks going 'what's in the bag? A badger!' - have not yet found a game which recreates this. Perhaps rounders.
Ergh rounders. I am convinced that this game was invented as a form of child abuse. There is nothing fun about running around 'bases' in the blazing heat whilst people flail madly about with a bat trying to get you 'out' with a ball. I always used to go deep field to avoid actually having to do anything, but the teacher noticed and made me 'practice long jump'. Another form of vicious punishment; if I wanted sand up my ass I'd go to the beach.
happy kitty sleepy kitty purr purr purrrrrr
Thursday, 23 February 2012
my day
Had to go to the library today and it annoyed me. I don't understand why things are categorised in NUMBERS. Colour coding things would make life easier and brighter for everyone. No-one likes numbers.
Having said that, the university library isn't as bad as the national library in Edinburgh. I need a MAP for that place. Everyone always looks very smart and clever, and I haven't been able to go back since giggling when I saw a book titled 'The Book of Cnut'.
Also find it strange that paint has warnings to tell us not to eat it, and that take-away coffee warns us that it might be hot, but that no books warn us against paper cuts.
Had teaching assessments and passed. It is frustrating however, that whenever you have a teaching assessment your students turn into deaf-mutes.
Sea monkeys are alive. Hard to tell if they're happy/healthy etc as they are just little squiggles.
Having said that, the university library isn't as bad as the national library in Edinburgh. I need a MAP for that place. Everyone always looks very smart and clever, and I haven't been able to go back since giggling when I saw a book titled 'The Book of Cnut'.
Also find it strange that paint has warnings to tell us not to eat it, and that take-away coffee warns us that it might be hot, but that no books warn us against paper cuts.
Had teaching assessments and passed. It is frustrating however, that whenever you have a teaching assessment your students turn into deaf-mutes.
Sea monkeys are alive. Hard to tell if they're happy/healthy etc as they are just little squiggles.
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