Friday Afternoons And The Time Warp

Friday afternoons go slowly, that’s just the simple reality of the world we live in. Take today for an example. It’s Friday, it’s payday and I have a birthday party tomorrow with all my friends and family in attendance to help me try and sink enough alcohol so that I don’t remember that I’m no longer in my twenties for at least the rest of the weekend. This should be brilliant, I should be stoked, but instead I’m sat at my desk clock watching and convincing myself that the (digital) clock display on my phone has somehow gone wrong and is now travelling in reverse…

I am convinced that after hitting midday on a Friday time genuinely slows to an almost imperceptible crawl. More so of course when you have somewhere else to be, regardless of whether that is a bar with friends or even the dentist to be attacked by a dental drill…!

The irony is I’m even finishing early today and that’s not helping. For starters I’ve not had a lunch break so to speak so the day has been looooooooooooooong, and the second problem is commuting at non commuter time makes you come across as not the nicest person on the planet…

When I’m doing my normal commute I know people will be barging others out of the way so I am a little more suspicious of people for lack of a better word, and whereas it would be a given at five that everyone not walking on the escalators would be stood on the right hand side it’s not always the way earlier in the afternoon. Then if I object I sound like I’m being moody because after all, it isn’t commuter time…

Friday’s time warp is the hardest part of the week without a doubt, and regardless of how much I love the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I don’t want to do the time warp again…!!

And When You Grow Up?

I remember my father teaching me how to ride my first bike in the park by our house, although my dad’s idea of teaching was to ensure I had the basics and then start a game of “Chicken” with me. Credit where it’s due, I learnt fast!!!

I think it’s the sort of memory that everyone retains through their life. The first bike, the first few faltering feet without any support and the one that meant the most to me – the first time my parents decided I was old enough to cycle on the road rather than on the pavement, it was likely being given the keys to the kingdom! I was so proud cycling along with them giving smug glances to those poor “children” who still had to cycle on the pavement. After all I was all grown up and they were just little kids still.

Seeing as that’s the sort of thing I remember feeling incredibly proud about, I was ever so slightly taken aback on my walk to the station this morning to almost be knocked over by a guy cycling straight down the middle of the pavement… He was in his thirties at a guess, had a very expensive looking mountain bike, the posh cycling helmet and all the lycra you could possibly ever need in your life! So in other words, not someone who cycles rarely, so what the hell?!

As he stormed past me I did manage to summon the phrase “And when you grow up are you going to cycle on the road like a real adult?!” to which I was honoured with a sneer as he cycled away, but seriously what do you want to be when you grow up….?!

Single To Life In Five Easy Steps

There are, to be fair, five major stages of a relationship.

Stage 1 - Meeting The Friends

The first big test of a new relationship. We decide to jump in the deep end and throw our prospective long term partners into the shark infested section, and then chum the waters for good measure. Our new partners are prodded, poked and quizzed by our closest friends. It is, if we're honest, a total farce. It's not so much winning the approval of the friends that is aimed for, it's more the fervent hope that after a night with your mates this new addition to your life doesn't become your new minus one as they run screaming for cover.

If they can face your friends and STILL want to date you, it's a good sign!

Stage 2 - Swapping Door Keys

The first really big acknowledgement that this is a truly serious relationship, and a total minefield. Too early, you're a bunny boiling stalker, too late and you're "just not as invested in this relationship" as your partner would like.

It's basically about giving up your autonomy. It's accepting that this person can now walk into your home without the forewarning that has previously given you a chance to hide the dirty dishes in a cupboard and the dirty clothes under the bed. On the plus side, as I've found out, it means they can go back to yours to pick things up for you when you've done something a bit badly planned...

Stage 3 - Moving In Together

Agreeing to co-habit... A big step and not to be taken lightly. Do you move in to theirs, do they move in to yours or do you find a new place together? The risk of moving into one of the existing places is the constant feeling like it's just not "ours" this can create. Most of the time this feeling can manifest most strongly when it comes to spending money on said property...

Then there's the things like the merging of your DVD collections, most often accompanied by the stomach dropping realisation that your significant other has truly awful taste in movies! My husband and I feel this way constantly I think but we counter this problem most of the time by simply accepting that I'm right...

Stage 4 - Engagement/Marriage

You've now come to the conclusion that this is the person  you want to spend the rest of your life with, a truly happy realisation, but full of possible pitfalls.

The engagement ring. Chosen by the proposer or chosen together? If chosen solo then how to find the right one, and what if they don't like it after being presented with it?

How do you tell your families and friends? How do you choose out of all of your friends a best man and maid of honour? Once you've sorted out all the other people involved there's still a million things to arrange.

Do you want a church wedding, or a registry office. What colour scheme? What venue? How many guests? The list is pretty much endless and each item on it has the awesome ability of at least causing minor rows to the worst case scenario of a screaming match which results in the cancellation of everything you worked out so far as you couldn't possibly marry someone who "just doesn't know me at all!!!"

If you make it to the wedding day, none of it matters to be honest. Just try and turn up on time, sober and get the name right, what else could be that big a deal?!

Stage 5 - Children

From pretty much the second you get married your entire family, yes on both sides, will become utterly obsessed with babies and everything baby related! If you think you're going to be given the opportunity of enjoying the "honeymoon period" of being newly married then think again. Within a month, at most, you will naturally hear someone come up with "So when are you two going to start thinking about children?" or someone in the family will give birth and you'll hear "Oooh, could be your turn next..."

I'm sure at some point people will realise that marriage does not equal instant babies, but I doubt it's going to happen in my lifetime! After all once you're married you become a familial breeding program, right?!

And of course the decision to have children will change your whole life forever, it will mean having someone in your life who will cry, puke and poop for the first few years, then refuse to do anything you tell them, then hate you for "restricting their individuality (read grounded) and of course bankrupt you until your retirement.

Yeah, I can see the attraction...!

It's Called Fear Not Vague Dislike!!!

Phobia is defined on dictionary.com as - Morbid fear

I have a serious issue with spiders, I reeeeeally don't like them and can't cope with being around them. Rather annoyingly given that fact, I can't kill them either, it's just not in my nature. So when confronted by a spider I react in one of two ways.

1) Scream like a little girl and run away pleading for someone to deal with the "absolutely giant" spider that had invaded my space.

2) If they're small enough put a glass over them, slide something underneath the glass to trap them, carry this outside and put on the ground. Then kick the glass over and run back inside screaming like a little girl and slam the door shaking with fear.

Whenever anyone asks me about this I admit being a total wuss about spiders, happy to hold my hands up over that one. Snakes, rats, mice and that sort of thing give me absolutely no problem, it's just bloody spiders! I hate their nasty legs, their creepy faces and the way they move makes my skin crawl right off my bones and run screaming (yes, again like a little girl) to somewhere safe, whether or not the rest of me follows is deemed irrelevant...

People over the years have tried to cure me of my utter hatred of these particular nasty little critters, but every single one has had the same bloody attitude. "You need to confront your fears, you should try handling a tarantula...."

What part of "these things scare the crap out of me" is not getting through? Morbid fear...?! Do not want to be near...?! Sure as hell don't want one crawling on me!!!!!! 

Ah that's better. To my well meaning friends, I love you all but seriously I'M NEVER HOLDING ONE OF THOSE SIX LEGGED FREAKS!!!!!! Give up, move on, I'm afraid I will never be buying what you're selling...

We Do This Every Day, Priority Please!!!

As some, or all, of you may have a noticed a large portion of my amused irritation is provided by the delightful other members of the London commuting population. We're a strange breed, very insanely proud of our "commuter" status and oftentimes a bunch of total arses to everyone else.

Escalators, oh good god the arguments that can start. Woe betide anyone who stands statically on the left hand side of an escalator in London, especially at commuter time. At best you'll get an "excuse me" before it moves up the ranks of tutting and sighing to the pinicle of "get out of my bloody way" and other less polite versions of the same sentiment. Out of towner, obvious tourist, tough luck cos no one could care less, you're still in my way making me late by those fractions of seconds on which the London commuter thrives, though ironically the fractions lost tend to lead to fractions of increasing heartrate!
And for those of us who dare to imply someone moving too slowly down the left hand side of the escalator, there's a whole new plethora of hatred aimed through vicious looks and petty reactions. I was once rushing for the tube as I was running late for my train and very politely (yes, really) said excuse me to a man carrying suitcases slowly down the left hand side as I tried to pass to his right on an empty escalator. He actually sped up until we ran into someone else on the righthand side just to stop me, and I missed my tube... That's how petty it can get! I glared at him for the whole twenty minutes spent waiting for the next tube and travelling as far as his stop... Also petty, but it amused me.

Seats on tube trains. Every morning without fail someone will shunt their way past people to make it to the last remaining seat on the tube, regardless of whether the people they'd barging out the way are male, female, pregnant, carrying suitcases, it's irrelevant. Okay, fine, I get that you desperately want to sit down, but the bit that drives me crazy is that they invariably sit there while the train travels one stop and then get up and alight from the train... You couldn't stand up for one bloody stop?! You really think you're that important that the rest of the world can get the hell out of the way so you can sit down for ninety seconds?! Sadly enough if you actually ever posed these questions the answer would most likely be yes...
These seat grabbers are joined as well with the ones who seem to think they deserve more space than others, like the woman last week at rush hour who decided that her bag required it's own seat and refused to move it... Arrogant, idiotic, sad morons. Next time I'll just sit on her damn bags!

I'm not innocent in all this, I'm sure I have my moments of acting like a real commuter. I'll admit I walk through Paddington every day growling to myself that they should have a section just for commuters cos I'm sick of dodging people off on holiday walking at the speed of a severly disabled sloth while I'm trying to make it to my office on time. At least unlike a large proportion I remember that everyone is in the same boat and there's very little point making other people's mornings any worse than they already are!

It's a dog eat dog world, that of the London town commuter, and you need to find your amusement and enjoyment of it in whatever way works for you! This city is mad, crazy and often rude, but it's also beautiful and I love it.

Resumption of Normal Service and a Different Perspective

Apologies for my absence for the last few days, it's not so much I've had a lack of amusement to write about so much as a lack of time upon which to ponder the amusing things I've seen. That or my brain is still addled from the elbow shot I received to the head on the train this morning and I have lost my memory of doing any blogging over the last few days...

Anyway, on to todays point. I have developed a new fascination with photography and although I can't see myself as the next Mario Testino (and nor would I want to) I am of late enjoying finding the random shots each day that capture my imagination or make me laugh.

What I have found about this is it's making me far more observant. The same way as when I started writing this blog I noticed a lot more of the conversations and goings on around me as "fuel for the fire", now I'm finding I look more. I'm not sure a few weeks ago I would've noticed the guy on the tube desperately trying to cover up a pink polka dot tie which I'm pretty sure his wife bought him for Valentines and insisted he wear this morning. To be fair to the poor guy it was hideous...! Or the two Chinese lads carrying four bags of PG Tips...?!
It's not always the funny stuff that's catching my eye. Sometimes it's quirky, unusual or fascinating - anything from a piece of grafitti that is perfectly executed, or the sun coming through the trees at just the right angle, or it's a floor hogging idiot who needs to be mocked on an online blog...

So I'm seeing more, hearing more and noticing more every day to bring to your attention with a liberal twist of sarcasm threaded through it, and where possible I'll try and get you the pictures...!

Train Station Dodgems

There are very few things in life that can reduce me from calm composure to absolute screaming rage in a matter of mere moments, but there is one thing.
It's not selfishness, rudeness or callousness. It's not pushing, shoving or stress. I see all these lovely things on a daily basis, but I can cope with them.

No, the one thing I cannot cope with in any way are those stupid little suitcases people drag behind them through train stations!!! I have no idea how many times these have been dragged straight across my path without the oblivious owner having a clue or a care as to the mayhem and havoc they're wreaking. The damn things are small, pick them up and carry them?!

I pass through two major London stations every weekday and I swear they're multiplying! This morning this little grey and black piece of baggage on a telescopic handle scooted straight across me as I headed for the Waterloo Underground ticket barrier and I came damn close to a faceplant into the ticket reader after the flying leap I was treated to!

I think my favourite part of the stupid things though is the absolute annoyance on the face of the luggage owner for you having dared to trip over their "suitcase"! I'll tell you what, I'll start dragging bear traps on rope behind me as I commute every day. But for gods sake don't step on it, it's reeeeeally annoying having to clean your blood off it!!!!

Oh and the next time I trip over one of those things I'm going to rip the damn handle of it and shove it somewhere!!!