Monday, 28 April 2008

UNDERAGE? MOI?? SURELY NOT...

I've lived in my flat for nearly five years now so, obviously, I have a local shop which I must visit on average four or five days a week. Mostly for magazines or wine...

For some unknown reason, they don't like me there. I don't know why. I always try to be friendly, but they are never particularly friendly back. Although I've seen them be nice to other people, even people I go into the shop WITH. My flatmates, my friends, my sister, the guy who I used to work with who lived around the corner, my ex . . . basically everyone but me! Yet I still can't help but be nice.

Anyway, I've been in there for alcohol repeatedly in this period of time, particularly in the last year or so, where my alcohol intake has gone up fivefold at least. Fairly often, since it is just down the road from me, I go down there makeupless, hungover or not exactly dressed in my best! I never take ID with me, and have never been asked for it. In fact, it's the one place I have NEVER been asked for ID. . .

So today I went in after work, picked up a magazine, a pizza and a bottle of rose and one of the usual women (who must have served me at least 100+ times) served me. Right after she went to ask for the money, she asked me out of the blue: "What age are you?" Slightly taken aback by the abruptness of the question, I laughed and replied "28". At which point, she started laughing too, says "don't tell too many people" and took my money. I wondered if it had all been a joke, but I knew it couldn't be . . . why start joking now? She genuinely seemed to think I was underage and, weirdly, due to her embarrassment . . . she was actually being NICE to me!!! I couldn't believe it. When I was leaving she said something to her co-worker in a different language while laughing, and I thought "she DEFINITELY thought I was underage!"

But why wait five years for this to strike her? Did she realise if I was GENUINELY underage then she was serving me alcohol when I was twelve/thirteen???

One thing's for sure, I will need to make sure I have ID on me when I go to the shop for booze in the future . . . because from the sounds of it, I'm actually getting younger, rather than older . . .

Sunday, 27 April 2008

I HATE CONFUSING ENDINGS!!!

The other night I was over at a friend's and arrived midway through the film "Adrift" on the telly. You know the one that's like "Open Water 2" - the friends who all jump off their yacht without lowering the ladder (duh!!) and end up stuck in the sea while one of the girls has a baby still on board, and they can't get back onto the boat? Anyway, for some reason I was getting quite into it . . . then the ending was so ambiguous, it made me HATE the film.

I have tried so hard to work out what the ending actually MEANT cos it was as if there was essentially two endings, and I'm not entirely sure which one was meant to be the true one. So weird. I have looked up the net and cannot find any definite answers, only speculation.

Why do directors do this? Fair enough if there was a decent explanation for it somewhere to find, that could make you look back at the film and say "ah, I see!" But there isn't. It's just deliberately misleading, from the looks of it just to leave it open for a potential sequel I suppose.

But I can't stop worrying about that poor baby . . .

Anyone seen this film that can shed any light on the ending?

Wednesday, 23 April 2008

DRUNKEN HUMPDAY ANECDOTES...

...While me and my sis were wondering around Borders looking for Spanish phrasebooks (my sis's idea) after a cocktail and half a bottle of rose wine each...

P and L drunkenly wander into the children's section and come across some Little Miss and Mr Toys . . .

L: Check this one out (holds up a little Miss toy)
P: Oh she's cute, what's her name?
L: (studies the label) Miss Poontang
P: (not really aware her sister is joking) Er - really? (grabs the toy and studies the label herself). No it says Little Miss . . . Kering. (looks puzzled) What the heck does THAT mean?
L: I think it is saying it's a keyring.
P: (feeling a bit thick) Oh right, i see.


Later on as P walks home from the underground and sees a guy who she mistakenly believes to be walking in her direction . . .

P: (to herself, but really to the guy at the other end of the street). Oh you had BETTER not be getting in my way here. I was on THIS side of the pavement first, what the fuck do you think you are doing, you total twat. I swear to god, if you do not move out of my way right now, I will smash you into next Tuesday with my fist, move, for fucks sake, move!!! Unless you are walking in the other direction I will . . . Oh yeah, you ARE walking in the opposite direction, you're walking away from me. Oops. Forget I said anything...

Tuesday, 22 April 2008

FOUR MINUTES TO SAVE THE WORLD . . . BY DOING WHAT???

This has to be my favourite song of the moment. But it's been bugging me, cos what the heck is it all about? If you watch the video Madonna and Justin don't really seem to be doing much world-saving-heroics - unless you call some good dance moves, Madonna's unbelievably bendy-for-her-age limbs, jumping about on top of cars and taking a time out to do some competitive conveyor belt surfing heroic. I suppose some might.

So I spent a while trying to work out if there actually WAS a point to the song, and looking up various sites on the internet to see if I could get some explanation on the song or the video. None really was forthcoming. All the sites tended to focus on the fact that Madonna's incessant crost-thrusting is getting kinda old (agreed - although if I have a body like that when I'm her age I'll probably be sticking my leotard on and thrusting my crotch in JT's face too) or that the song is just another moneymaking cash cow which doesn't mean much other than money in the record company's pocket (also true - although when the moneymaking cash cow sounds THAT good, I ain't complaining).

So I've developed my own theory. Which is . . . that they have decided that they need to procreate in order to save the world, by bringing a new life into it. After all, with all the crotch thrusting and dirty dancing (I mean, I know Justin liked older women for a while but there's still a fairly significant age gap between Cameron Diaz and old Madge), the bedroom is clearly where they're headed.

At least if Madonna has her way . . . :)

ps. if anyone has any other insights feel free to share.

Sunday, 20 April 2008

I'M TIRED . . .

. . . of work.

There's various reasons for this that I don't care to go into right now. But given that I've only been back since wednesday after my holiday, and I already can't wait until my next holiday, I feel like I've reached my expiry date with the company. I'm constantly exhausted, stressed, and feel like I'm obliged to do overtime (which is good for the money, but not for my fatigue).

I'm counting the days down to my next holiday (three weeks tomorrow, I believe. . .)

I need to win the lottery. Not two lousy pounds this time either. The whole million pounds or so shebang!!! Please god!!!!!!!!!!! Either that, or I need to find a rich man - hey, it's worked for some people . . .

Sunday, 13 April 2008

BLOGGING . . .

I like blogging.

According to some people, that makes me sad and pathetic and psychotic. Perhaps I am. But it stops me from being even more so than I could be. It's basically my therapy.

I have been through a lot of late and personally I believe I have every right to vent my feelings a little. The main reason I decided to keep blogging in the first place is because I spend way too much time in my head thinking, trying to work out how I could have changed things, could have done things differently, beating myself up over the smallest of things. And I don't always want to talk my friends' ears off about the same things over and over again - as great and supportive as they have all been to me, I don't want to push their limits. At least by blogging I can talk about my emotions, and occasionally get some advice from people who don't know me, and are enough removed from the situation to perhaps give me a non-biased perspective. It helps me to remember there are other people going through similar things to me, whether it's feeling a bit alone or depressed, angry about something however inconsequential, dealing with a relationship breakdown, or having just lost a family member. More importantly, they can choose whether or not they want to "listen" to me. I'm not forcing anyone to read my blog.

I'm not going to apologise for this. I don't see why I should.

And I'm sick of people trying to use it against me.