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post 1 on Thursday 18th January 2007 at 10:56 Is Dead! Long Live!

I'm restarting my blog and forgetting about the old one. It was becoming too much to wonder what I wouldn't want people to see. What I should have done was to password protect the old stuff. But handing out the passwords would have seemed like some membership to my exclusive club. So here it is. My first ever new post!

tags: [ woot ]
post 2 on Saturday 20th January 2007 at 13:49

Do You Beat Your Wife?

My deadlines at University are so close. I can't believe I have left it this late. If I fail this year I will now know how NOT to do it for ANOTHER year. So I'm trying so hard to work diligently.

But not too hard. I went to the football last week for the first time ever. I was so surprised by the serenity of the place. I was expecting bottle smashed faces and cattle crushes but no, only a poster; quite obviously nestled amongst its target audience, posing the question everybody wants to answer "do you beat your wife". Dear me. What a world of stereotypes. You have to laugh.

tags: [ advertising ] [ career ] [ culture ] [ university of teesside ]
post 3 on Sunday 11th February 2007 at 11:15

Can't Think Of A Title

Somebody please put me into my cave where I belong. Hell, throw away the key. This girl is ABSOLUTELY spent! Every scrap of energy's been expended on my assignments for University. But two are handed in and over. What a comfort to me then to be able to relax after such hard work. Nope, not I said the idiot. The idiot is working on even more things which don't even need to be worked on! I conclude: a lot of things in this world make no sense, and my self is one of the most sense less. Teehee!

tags: [ university of teesside ] [ woot ]
post 4 on Monday 12th February 2007 at 14:45

Shine On

I'll make a fine example of a blog where the blogger has nothing to say. I'll be like all the other people who've started blogs. Everyone wants to read what I want to say, hey, it's dim in here - would you be so kind as to point that light in my direction?

tags: [ woot ]
post 5 on Thursday 15th February 2007 at 09:38

A Tale Of Stolen Bins

I can hardly believe I've yet to write about the saga of the wheelie bins! A story, which in summation, involves what can only be described as a *shit load* of wheelie bins (belonging to thirteen oak street) being cruelly stolen from the alley.

People take my wheelie bins for what purposes I'm unsure but I’m guessing theft, debauchery, rat storage, police hikes, "oh shit, it's the TV licence van", etc would probably all be accurate if not speculative possibilities.

Just some background: I live in a row of Victorian terrace houses in one of the most run-down and socially deprived areas of Middlesbrough. We share an alley which runs parallel to the length of the houses and, I state this with authority, we ALL should have a wheelie bin - as provided free of charge by Redcar & Cleveland council. The bin men come every other Tuesday (we're supposed to recycle) and apart from myself and Mr. Norman are the only people with access to the alley gates.

Now the bins and their travels have become somewhat of a comedy in this house. Questions such as where do they go? What do they see? What mysterious contents do they harbour on these mystical journeys? etc, all remain unanswered. Just to provoke the tale further (and make my plight seem all the more pitiful) it actually took me three months to get a wheelie bin, after which time two were dispatched by the stupid council; one serving as the alley bin, and the other becoming a very useful "cache" bin.

The first bin to go was an unmarked bin which naked and green was sent to the alley like a lamb to the slaughter. I didn't draw on this bin and that was my first mistake - the bin was taken but the incident was kinda dismissed as a one-off. In fact, due to the cache bin it was almost forgotten about! But then when the cache was stolen it was like WTF? What am I going to do now! So I called the council was given a case number. Can you believe that? A case number! So fully authenticated we trotted down to yon tip in Redcar to get a new wheelie bin.

Enter bin number three - trundling into the alley like the car outta Grease, rising up from the mist of its own excellency and fully inscribed with more identifying marks than a police line-up. BUT IT WAS STILL STOLEN!

After a four week sabbatical, during which time the rubbish was just flowing from the back door, the bin returned as is nothing had happened. The only clue was a dead rat lay at its wheels ... make of that what you will. Where from here? Well, I'm considering RFID and GPS technology. But I’m leaving this post open for more news. I’m sure there’ll be some. As Dad would say “you couldn’t make it up”.

tags: [ 13 oak street ] [ culture ] [ rants ] [ south bank ]
post 6 on Friday 23rd February 2007 at 19:04

The False Promises of Magazines

I wrote this a few years ago but bought a magazine yesterday breaking a magazine-fast of a few months. It kinda sparked something off. ;P

Why it is that any self-respecting, intelligent woman would get sucked into the false promises of women’s magazines?

If you walk along any news stand, you'll notice delightfully achievable captions such as "CHANGE YOUR LIFE IN YOUR LUNCH BREAK - WE DID IT YOU CAN TOO!". Society places too many demands on us as humans, and some of us assume that something must be wrong with our lives if we're not fulfilling the roles that society has created for us. Magazines enforce this by creating a problem which we must now solve though reading the damned magazine. In fact, the problem never existed, and because it never existed, it can never be solved. Thus when we inevitably "fail" to reach this unreachable solution, we feel inadequate.

And yet magazines are full of outrageously contradicting advice. On one page we are told to look thin, be saintly, and preserve our figures because we’re special, and we should stay that way. Yet the next page opposes the previous with recipes for "naughty" and “sinful” foods we should make to "indulge" ourselves and our families. They made chocolate sinful! Them and the diet brigade, but that's another story.

What I have had to remember is that magazines are fed this shite directly from people trying to make a fast buck out of playing on our desires and fantasies - advertisers. These people are educated on what buttons to press. Not only do they have demographics; for example age, gender and location, they also think they know us by simply sliding us neatly into one of their social grade categories (waves to all the C1s out there!!). In short, they know what subconscious desires and needs they can tap in to based on who we are and where were going, or want to go.

The saddest thing is that this is just a reflection of our current society. We are told what to wear, what to eat, what to think, and what to need, and not by some body that we have elected to listen to - but by people trying to make money, for themselves.

If you want to be sane and happy, boycott women’s magazines.

tags: [ feminist rants ] [ rants ]
post 7 on Friday 23rd February 2007 at 21:28

Pizza: Always Wizhin Dhze Hour

Ever had one of those everything's-a-pound-land scenarios when the same question is directed time and time again to the same person who gives the same answer but the asker just wants to hear it? Now is one of those times.

tags: [ 13 oak street ] [ south bank ]
post 8 on Monday 26th February 2007 at 23:59

Who Am I?

I am the Queen of Random
The girl of no form
A limitless shapeshifter
I'll be great when I'm there
I am an unsharpened pencil
If only I could stick at things
But I want to be turned in the right direction

tags: [ poems ]
post 9 on Thursday 1st March 2007 at 23:53

In Like A Lion

Whilst languishing today, I noticed it’s the first of March, which is always a date for my calendar. Why? It’s the first wash day of course! – no not mangles or carbolic, I mean, it’s dry enough to hang your smalls out isn’t it? That means line fresh baby – even in South Bank – where the air lingers with the smell of coke (that’s pre-burned carbon deposits that work like coal to anyone under fifty) and fried onion bhajis from the Imperial Food Park.

All the plants here at Oak Towers have reanimated – the word from the windowsill is that the geraniums, honeysuckle, clematis and jasmine are all experiencing an abundance of buddage. Yay, seed time! You see there aren’t many plants in my garden. In fact, there are more inside than out. So if we have a death in the family it’s a serious loss to stock. Luckily, since the great slug slaying of 2006 we’ll be having no more casualties.

Oh and there was a fruit fly in the kitchen. So there you go – it MUST be the first day of spring - and even South Bank knows it!

tags: [ 13 oak street ] [ domestics ]
post 10 on Sunday 4th March 2007 at 17:32

Call 999 - It Doesn't Work In Mozilla!

You were looking for a job role that would allow you to cultivate your secret inversion, to fulfil your inner solitude, to help flourish your silent genius, and what did you get? You got clients calling you at a twenty-to-nine on a saturday evening. Are you a therapist, care worker or a member of the emergency services? No, welcome to the career choice of the eternally harassed, the web designer.

tags: [ rants ] [ web site design ]