Tina the Princess

No seriously, still here, still meat free

2012-01-31T23:53:00.001Z

I didn't really want January to be only about #meatfreeJanuary but as I'm now in the final twenty minutes of meat free January it would seem remiss of me not mention it. Again.

So yes, I'm still a vegetarian. I actually quite like it. It's really not that hard, and despite her best efforts Jud hasn't made me miss eating meat at all. That said, I won't do it forever. Or probably even one more day. Well it's a bit of a faff, isn't it? Especially when you go out somewhere.

My last day as a vegetarian included a Veggie Patty Subway.

This photo is from Subway's website here. It's a wholesome slice of goodness. Apparently.

I just read the ingredient list there and truthfully, I had no clue what I was eating. I mean, it was nice, don't get me wrong. When I ordered it I had fun because the guy asked me did I want him to change his gloves as he'd just made a chicken somethingorother for the customer before me. 'Yes please, that'd be great.' I'm such a vegetarian! Well he offered and and I wasn't about to fall at the last hurdle by getting some chicken juice on my veggie Subway. Dinner tonight was a lovely Moroccan cous cous dish with halloumi cheese (or squeaky cheese as it is more affectionately known). It was very nice, though there was a bit of a tomato shortage which was unfortunate. Definitely could have done with more.

I think the best thing has been trying out different recipes and challenging myself to eat new things. I loved spinach pie and will make it again for sure. Cannellini bean bolognese was delicious too and the chick pea burger thing was definitely worth making again. Actually there were loads of things I loved. Quorn tacos were lovely, and despite a few people on Twitter saying Quorn was rank/cardboard/sick-inducing I liked it. I only had Quorn once the whole month which wasn't too bad and I never, not once, had tofu. Huh. Makes you wonder if I was a real vegetarian at all.

[Quorn is an interesting thing to me. I don't understand it. How does it taste of different types of meat? What's it made of? I read this article and it didn't make me feel any better about it, especially the bit about being 'safe for human consumption'. I never want to see it being made. Just like I never want to go inside an abbattoir.]

So what will I do now? Maybe #meatfreeMonday (or another day by special arrangement)? Maybe.

As for February's challenge? Well Ruth suggested #saladfreeFebruary. It's still on the cards.

Still here, still meat free

2012-01-19T00:26:00.000Z

Well thank goodness I didn't make any wild resolutions like blogging more, because just three weeks in January and I'd look silly.

So the good news is that I am still meat free. (I didn't want January posts to be all about #meatfreeJanuary but hey ho, when this is your third blog it's what I'm going to write about.) I thought I might forget and eat meat or something but it's been alright and I haven't really be hankering after meat dishes. Rebecca tweeted that she thought stir fry would be loads tastier without the vegetables. Doesn't that just leave fried meat? Where's the flavour in that?! Not to sound all vegetarian worthy or nowt, but there's a whole world of taste I've discovered when your meal is largely just vegetables. I have deduced this is because of the herbs and spices rammed into the dishes. Truthfully, garam masala? Never heard of you beforehand (except are you in tikka masala?). Heck, I even got a basil plant I was using so much those little bunches from Tesco weren't enough.

Tonight I had a lovely chickpea curry. Last week's highlight was bean bolognese. When talking beforehand about the plan with Brian he said that I shouldn't go from meat to meat substitute. Fair enough, where's the challenge in that? So I haven't had anything with Quorn. But when I was round at Karen's I had a piece of 'chicken'. Oh. My. Goodness. Maybe it was just the two weeks meat free talking, but it was so like actual chicken. Made me think it can't be too good for you. What's mycoprotein anyway? Is that something I want to eat or spread on my skin to stop wrinkles? They have an advertising campaign on at the moment and so later in the week Quorn tacos are on the menu. Good luck everybody.

The sad news is that meat free January has resulted in some injuries. Nothing serious I should add. Well aside from nearly losing the sight in my right eye. And it's probably not fair to blame meat free January; these injuries could have occurred while cooking meat dishes.

Injury 1 was a small burn on my fourth finger in an unfortunate tea-towel-not-sufficient-to-act-as-oven-gloves while I was roasting a pepper (before stuffing it with mushrooms and ricotta cheese). I think it hurt more because it was my fourth finger because it's so underused. Oh woe is me.

Injury 2 was a cut to the side of my thumb while washing the food processor blade. Turns out those things don't just cut because they go round very fast, they're also quite sharp. Who knew? Those wee cuts are beasts though, aren't they? They never stop bleeding. I had to use several sheets of kitchen roll to mop up the blood. ('Mop' might be an extreme verb there.)

Injury 3 was the worst. It's the one that made me wonder if I was going to ever be able to see out my right eye again. If you've done what I've done you'll probably have wondered the something similar...chilli in the eye. Oh glory that hurts.

I've always thought I would be quite handy in an emergency situation. I never thought thought I would flail about the place. I'm not the flailing kind. I think I'm quite calm, quite level headed and able to...do something. Well, now I know for sure.

So there I was making tea (chickpeas with tomato and spinach). The recipe said to chop the chillies finely. Obviously before the advent of meat free January I had chopped a chilli finely before. This was not a new experience for me. I knew the chilli would be on my hands, I knew to wash them, I knew not to touch my face or especially my eyes anytime soon.

At this point it's important to remember I had been sick. And I had to slice onions. Those things make your eyes, well more moist, that normal. I knew what not to do, but I did it, I wiped my eye. Although I don't even remember doing it.

Oh, a few moments later I knew I had alright. The burning, searing pain, around what I believe Olay would call my delicate eye area, told me. It got worse and worse until I couldn't keep my eye open. I ran water on some kitchen roll. There was some temporary relief but it wasn't enough. I ran more water on it. Then through the pain I had an idea. I don't want to overstate it, but it was possibly the best idea I've ever had.

I put milk on the kitchen roll. That's what you're supposed to drink with a hot curry right? Why wouldn't it work with chilli in the eye? Well, I can confirm it worked! I've said it before on here, but I am not a medical practitioner. I know, but it's true. But there I was, in the actual heat of the moment, I came up with a remedy all on my own.

It was at that moment, with a milky eye patch over my eye, I knew I'm alright in emergency situations.*

*Really sorry if it turns out I'm bad in an emergency situation sometime further down the line.

Getting my veg on

2012-01-04T22:13:00.001Z

It's 4th January and I finally went to the supermarket and got me some vegetables. With being sick the few days I wasn't in much eating form, so I got by on cheese and tomato paninis, baked beans and a jacket potato, and poached eggs. It hasn't been a wildly exciting start to #meatfreejanuary but it has been meat free, which I think you'll agree is the important part of the challenge. (If you click on the link you'll see there's a girl in Finland who is also tweeting using that hashtag. Umm...hiya!)

Tonight I had butternut squash curry, which was a major step up in the excitement stakes. It was really tasty, although turned a bit mushy. So far I haven't really missed eating meat or, as I like to call it, proper food. But I realise that might change. I think there's a real danger of getting bored with vegetables, especially if you're stuck in a panini-beans-eggs rut like I have been.

So I popped along to Tesco and got some supplies for the next few meals.

Tomatoes, spinach, chillies, ginger, cumin, garam masala, Greek style yoghurt, lemon, red onion, garlic, chickpeas, refried beans, chestnut mushrooms and spring onions. Boom! As they say in veggieland.

It's like a bag from Ready Steady Cook. Well Fern, I'm going to make mushroom and chickpea burgers (thanks Karen for tweeting this idea) and chickpeas with tomatoes and spinach. The refried beans were for emergency enchiladas, you know, just incasies.

I'll let you know how it goes, but you probably already knew that.

Meat free January

2012-01-01T18:00:00.001Z

Happy new 2012 to you! Fresh from my recent spate of blogging, I thought I'd open my 2012 account with one on the first day to explain why I'm going meat free in January.

It was an idea planted by one of my friends at the European thing I went to in May. Liv is vegetarian and challenged us at the end of the conference to have a vegetarian day at the conference. She pointed to the environmental impact meat production has on the world as reason enough to do it for one day in the week long conference. (You can do your own internet searching on this. I did and there's a load. Here's one called 'Veguary' (think a vegetarian Movember in February) which sums it up quite well here, although the stats are US based. In short though, it seems to me not to be a bad thing to cut down on meat eating. Just like it's not a bad thing to cut down your bottled water consumption when you have a tap with perfectly clean, safe water.) Anyway, it was a very short point Liv made, but she persuaded me and I hoped at the next conference we have vegetarian day.

Cut to a few months later and I found my old diary. I had once tried to be a vegetarian (20th October 1990, fact fans). "Huh. I never really did that."

Then I saw Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall on The One Show. He was on to promote his vegetarian cookbook. No big deal, not really interested. But then he said in research for writing the book he became a temporary vegetarian, I think for three months. "Oh. A temporary vegetarian". (In the movie of my life this will part will have a montage of flashbacks to the earlier incidents.)

Now, here's the important bit, I still might not have done anything about it until I was out for dinner later that week with Karen Photographer for her gallery opening. I mentioned what I had seen on The One Show and Karen decided to join me in a month-long vegetarian adventure (Karen will have her own reasons for the challenge, I think mostly she likes a challenge - see marathon).

As it was already into November, we'd kind of missed the boat on that month, and December is just a crazy month to try to go cold turkey, so to speak. January has the new start feel to it and would give us time to research a little bit about what we need to do.

So that's it really.

Last week Karen and I renewed our pact to do it with a high five. That made it official, cos we're a bit street. And I've marked recipes from my cookbooks and gone to the brilliant BBC Food website. I see that herbs and spices are going to be important. Well vegetables can be a bit boring, can't they? And I'll need to keep myself in fresh vegetables and eat a lot of beans and what not to keep my protein levels up. But I'm happy to report 18 hours in, things are going swimmingly. Mostly because I'm a bit sick and haven't tried to eat anything substantial, but it's nonetheless encouraging.

I wouldn't have tried to do it without any one of those four things: Liv, my old diary, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Karen (although if I had to grade them, my diary is probably the least important and Liv and Karen the most).

I'll probably put some stuff on here about it, but we'll also be tweeting our vegetarian adventure at #meatfreejanuary. We're not private on there, but if you have an account you can tweet us encouragement. Or try to make us feel better if we succumb to a big dirty burger or a fry, or some ribs. Or a Chinese...

I need to get me some butternut squash or something. Quick.

From the drafts: Crafty games

2011-12-31T17:40:00.000Z

This was one of the final TinaLostInSpace posts that never made it. That's because I only added the photos. No comments, no writing, no nothing...I'll do that now.

It'll probably not surprise you that I was big into crafts when I was little. Every Christmas and birthday I got something that needed me to make, create, paint, set, do. I had them all, plaster of Paris, clay, Fimo modelling clay...and these fine examples of craftiness.

Latch hook is actually quite hard to do, which is why this remains mostly undone.

The weaving loom though...

Oh yeah, half done as well.

Sylvanian Families paint by numbers is done. Actually, this was a practice one just done on paper, not the 'canvas' they give you. So what, I liked to practice my crafts.

There was something I did particularly enjoy about the things I found - the box kids. You know, the ones that demonstrate what you're supposed to do and how well they can do it (which, no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to recreate). Take these examples:

I don't know how old you have to be before you can be described as 'preppy' but I'd say that boy has reached it. (Discover Food Technology allowed to do experiments on mouldy bread and the like. You got your own petri dishes and everything.]

Oh hair, hair, hair. So big you don't notice the braces until at least the second look. (Bead and stitch, you probably had one yourself. Ahem.)

It's good to have your ribbons match your shirt and pinafore combo. (Clothes peg dolls could be the theme of a four Yorkshire (wo)men skit. Dolls? We used to dream of dolls, we used to make them out of clothes pegs. Clothes pegs? Luxury.)

I also found a few card games. Nothing was complete, except this one, The Neighbours Card Game.

It's like a version of Happy Families, you have to complete the families, which if you can't see are the Robinsons, the Mangels, the Clarkes, and the Ramseys. Proper old Neighbours like.

Well, you don't just lose your Neighbours cards, do you?

Ah good 80s times!

From the drafts: old computers

2011-12-31T17:00:00.000Z

This should have gone on August 17th, but I think I thought I was plaguing you with posts about my roof space tidy. So better now to post it when I'm plaguing you with posts in order to beat the deadline eh?

_________________________

Technically the tidying started last week. Dad started to throw away our old computers, like this one.

A Mackintosh PowerMac 5500. It boasted a 4GB hard drive and interweb capabilities.

This was its laptop cousin, a PowerBook 5300cs. No one in my house remembers actually buying it. Do let us know if you think it's yours.

Our very first computer, a Spectrum ZX. That's not a tape deck folks, that's where you load the games!

I found video of the screen you got when a game was loading on You Tube. There's no sound though, I remember there being a screechy kind of sound.

Our favourite games were Treasure Island and Postman Pat. Both are on You Tube, of course.

That's 128k technology right there my friend.

Then the Postman Pat game. You can click through to it here, I didn't want to post it because of the username of the person who posted it - you might be sensitive to such words. Bet you click through now though...

This game became famous in our house for the phrase 'Cup of tea Pat?'. Even now, every once in a while it's likely my parents will say it each other (neither of them are called Pat, you probably knew that though.)

From the drafts: I've got a golden ticket

2011-12-31T16:55:00.000Z

[This is from June 22nd. As you might guess, I'm excited for 2012 arrive!]

____________________

The email finally telling us what we got in the Olympics came last night. I had heard rumours that if you checked your 2012 account in the early hours of the morning then you'd see what they got. I tried that, as it happens at 23.59pm and nothing. At the stroke of midnight I hit refresh and bam! There were my bloody handball tickets listed in all their glory!

Obviously I got mum to check hers immediately and I am delighted to say that she got Athletics tickets for the last night! How exciting! The night includes:

- 4 x 100m Men's Final (no baton drops in the heats Team GB, USA or Jamaica please and thank you)

- 5000m Men's Final (Mo Farah, I hope you decide to double up)

- 800m Women's Final (Jenny Meadows? Come on girl!)

So today I have been reliving some 4 x 100m action. I must have watched this about five times today. My favourite things are Steve Cram saying 'In fact it was terrible!" and Maurice Green's seriously unimpressed face during the medal ceremony. Brilliant!

Slightly concerned that Team GB don't really have many sprinters left in their prime, never mind their baton dropping. So who knows if we'll see them even make the final.

And there's this one, which lacks Steve Cram's excitement. The commentators seem slightly underwhelmed by Jamaica breaking a world record which stood since the days of Carl Lewis. So you'll have to make your own excitement of the magic of 37.10.

[December edit: I was lucky enough to receive a How to Watch the Olympics book for Christmas. It's very good, although, strangely it lists the sport as Handball, not Bloody Handball as it is referred to in our house.]

'Resolutions'

2011-12-31T16:44:00.002Z

My resolution this year was to write more. I wrote my dissertation, all 20,000 words of it (60,000 if you include appendices. Just saying.) So check that one off the list.

I also vowed to blog more. And I did do that too! Last year I blogged 64 times. This year, I'm up to 66. Oh yeah! I say 'up to' because obviously this one will make it 67. Plus if you include the drafts that I never quite published (but am about to) I'll beat the dizzy heights of 2009 level blogging. Not sure the glory days Princess blogging in 2005-2007 will ever return. Ah, glory days.

I'm not sure the point of resolutions is to do them on the last day, but I do like the pressure of a deadline.

Click here to read:
I've got a golden ticket
Old computers
Crafty games

Christmas activities

2011-12-31T15:55:00.000Z

New Year's Eve. Ugh. Not only is Christmas over, it's followed by the most hyped two days of all. We've had a good Christmas, lots of reading (Michael Johnson's book, Gold Rush, and Bill Bryson's Troublesome Words, which made me never want to write again - I make so many mistakes), gaming (see below) and television watching. Right now I'm watching Who Do You Think You Are? Actually this one is called Who Do You Think You Are UK? because I recorded it from RTE (southerners say 'Who d'ya think ye aar? but OarTE. I know, you enjoy my deep observations on life.)

I was happy to chance upon it earlier this week because it's the one I saw being filmed on my way home from work one day. I blogged about it here. It was being made in the autumn of 2006, and depending how well you know/remember the life of Tina, I was away in Singapore 2007 so missed it's transmission. I had looked on repeats on BBC and on Yesterday or whatever channel they appear on, but then chanced upon it this week on RTE! Delighted, I was!

As I watched the opening credits I was a bit confused because there, staring off into the distance in front of some barn/battlefield/workhouse, were celebrities whose programmes I'd seen, like Chris Moyles and Kim Cattrall. Had I actually been back and missed it? Nope, the opening moments of the programme told me OarTE had repackaged the programme, with some Irish accented man narrating. So they must have picked out the 'best' ones too. I still checked the website to be doubley sure. Sure enough, Graham's was broadcast in October 2007. Yeeeoooo.

And sure enough when I watched the programme I saw the bit I saw being filmed.

My original photograph. My phone camera didn't have zoom. But it's him.

As I think this photo from the programme shows.

I forgot when I blogged about it first time of the Graham H connection and how if I had gone to get him he could have met his namesake. I speculated at the time that this might have made the cut. Well, a funny exchange with a passer-by did so, I'm going to say, for sure I could have been on TV.

"They seem nice..."

In other Christmas activity news, we finished our jigsaw. Like I might have mentioned before we're a jigsawing kind of family. Or as I've typed each time (and then corrected) jogsaw. Our jogsaw (I'm just going to leave it) of choice this Christmas was this olde worlde shopping from the 1950s.

It doesn't look too bad, there's lots of distinctive pieces, but that's exactly the problem - they're all distinctive pieces.

When the box arrived we put it under the tree, alongside the tin of Roses (a tree just looks better with a tin of Roses underneath. You can keep your Quality Street.) Anyway, it was all looking lovely. And then Christmas Eve came when I wrapped my presents and put them under the tree.

"But oh no, what this? Oh the jogsaw box. I'll move it to make room....presents, presents, presents...I'll carry them across..."

Crunch!

I stood on the box. Not only was there a massive Tina sized foot dent, the box even ripped in the impact. Oopsy. Thankfully no pieces were harmed in this act of clumsiness.

All good jogsawers know you start with the frame.

Getting there...

And we're done! Let me just say that basket down at the bottom was ridiculously hard.

I got to spend some time round at the home of the Duke and Duchess of Finaghy. As any good host knows, after-dinner entertainment must be planned. Thankfully Nicky knew this and laid on a great game of Mullet Power Top Trumps. Makes me want to see the Royal Wedding version ever more now.

You couldn't make it up.

We also played a good old fashioned game of Boggle. Word games like this aren't my favourite, I'm just not very good at them. My words in this game were mostly made up of three letter words, like pea, lad, gin... I got a handful of four letter word (no, not that sort) and the whole game I only got one five letter word, sings. I thank you. I wasn't allowed coo, which I thought was a travesity. People coo at babies all the time. But they very generously allowed me peed, you know, I peed, you peed, he peed.

That's why it's best to just leave me to the jogsaws.

Saying happy Christmas!

2011-12-29T19:55:00.001Z

I didn't send cards this year. Thanks very much for yours (if you sent me one). Sorry if you are thinking I'm extremely rude and struck you off my list. That's not true, I didn't even have a list. So please take this instead as my card.

Nothing says "Celebrate hope, joy and love!" like posing with a giant snowman. [Photo taken by Megan.]

While my card writing efforts were poor, I did make the effort for my present gift tags. Not just a present to show I cared, oh no! They got a hand-made, original, one of a kind Tina-made gift-tag. The lucky recipients got these bad boys.

Too bad my handwriting has deteriorated so badly that the inside of the tag wasn't as pretty as the outside. That said, if there was a world record for gift tag making and speed writing, I'd really pick up points in the speed writing element.

When I was making them I realised that gift tags such as these wouldn't really be the things for Johnny and Kiera. Kiera would probably try to eat the angel, which couldn't have many benefits (although who's to know what digesting a celestial being and their glad tidings might do for you?) Johnny, on the other hand, wouldn't care two hoots for an angel on a bit of sparkly card and nice ribbon. Furthermore, they can't read, so labelling any present with their names was pointless.

So I came up with a clever plan to show who the present was for and who it was from.

Kiera is even cuter as a little elf. I'm Sant-ina!

For Johnny's one, I tried to make one of us into a snowman, but the results were disappointing, and not in the least bit snowmany. And besides, what goes with a snowman? Santa would have to be repeated and there didn't appear to be many more options than what I ended up with, but that meant I would have to be, well, a reindeer.

Although I'd prefer it if you called me Rutolphina.

I still printed the tags on sparkly paper.

Oh come on, what was I supposed to do? I couldn't abandon all my pretty crafting principles, could I?!

A fair exchange

2011-12-23T16:16:00.003Z

Karen Photographer and I went for lunch together today.

She gave me a gingerbread man that wasn't decorated.

And he had a broken leg.

I gave her a card with a typo.

I should also mention it was a birthday card. From last month. I forgot to bring it with me when it was her birthday, alright.

I fixed the card.

And the gingerbread man?

Well like Doc Brown would say, 'Legs? Where's he's going, he won't need legs!'

The Christmas switch

2011-12-22T12:07:00.000Z

I'm not quite ready for Christmas yet. I should be. Earlier this week, rather smugly, I thought I had all my presents when I got my last delivery this week. I didn't even open the package til the afternoon, because I knew what it was. Ha! What a fool I was! In short, the bozos messed up my order, sent me the wrong thing and now I'm a present down because of the hoops I have to jump through in order to return it and get the right thing back. Bozos.

Other things I have to do include, but are not limited to:
-Tidying my room (I think it's always nice to have a tidy room and clean bed clothes on Christmas Eve.)
-Making rocky road traybakes (Just call me Nigella.)
-Ironing (All my ironing is in the utility room, sorry, I mean dining room. That'll never do.)
-Wrap presents (Although I traditionally don't do this until Christmas Eve. See below.)

Things I've done to get ready for Christmas include, but are not limited to:
-Decorate the tree (With Christmas Day being on a Sunday ours is up for the maximum time. Eh...see below again)
-Shopping (annual shopping trip to Belfast with Father and ordering some stuff online? Done.)
-The Christmas food big shop and annual trip to M&S (it's the only time we get food from M&S, best summed up in these four words 'Wensleydale and blueberry cheese'.)

I don't know about you, but what makes it Christmas to me is a hundred million tiny things, mostly based around our own family's Christmas traditions. Everyone has these. Dave Gorman on his radio show this week got people to tweet the things listeners' families did that no one else does. They included the men of the family all sitting down to watch a spaghetti western on Christmas Eve, someone's parents putting wrapping paper across their bedroom door frame so they have to burst out on Christmas morning (genius idea!) and someone having to tidy up all the discarded wrapping paper and when they go out to the kitchen to throw it out their final big present is out there. Ah family Christmas traditions!

My family's aren't that spectacular. Like most families we get special-don't-buy-them-any-other-time-of-year foods, like the aforementioned Wensleydale and blueberry cheese, but also Primula cheese (you may know it by it's more common name of 'toothpaste cheese') and duck spring rolls (and other party food) from M&S. You might be more extravagant than ours and get those foods during the year. Like Cheryl was at CHW when she brought Wensleydale and blueberry cheese camping! I've never been more shocked. Not us though.

We don't put our tree up until two Sundays before Christmas. Mostly because we get a real tree, but also because decorating the tree has always been a Sunday afternoon activity. We could never put our tree up on any other day. Another one is that I always go Christmas shopping with my dad. This originates from when David and I were small and dad would take us shopping, in turn, to buy each other's present. Equally, I don't wrap my presents until Christmas Eve, because my dad would take us in turn to wrap them on Christmas Eve while Mum was busy cooking stuff. It genuinely doesn't feel right to me to wrap Christmas presents before Christmas Eve, you know if there's someone you need to give their present to earlier than Christmas Day.

I think for these reasons my Christmas switch take a few weeks to come on. It's more your dimmer switch. It's not just seeing the Coca-Cola holidays a-coming advert or having Elf on TV. My Christmas switch does not get flicked on on 1st December or by me playing a Christmas song on my iPod. I can't make myself feel Christmassy in November. I'm immune to Christmas adverts before December; you're wasting your money on me advertisers. Same with Christmas music. To me, it's just wrong in November (and October - Scott Mills I'm looking at you). To me, it's a feeling that builds over a couple of weeks in December. I can't help it, it's just how I was raised.

That said, I'm there now. I unleashed my Christmas jumper this week. Oh yes.

Court of arbitration for Scattergories

2011-12-18T14:45:00.001Z

Here's a idea world, can we have a Court of Arbitration for Scattergories? (Actually, for the sake of its acronym and to avoid confusion with the actual CAS it should be a Scattergories Court of Arbitration (SCA).) You know Scattergories, that game where you have certain categories and have to things in that category that begin with a particular letter, but can't be the same as anyone else suggested? (You may have played its unofficial home-made version of Bus Stop or Fish and Chips.)

I've never played a game where there weren't arguments about the validity of some answers. Actually, by the end of the game it's most of the answers. A few weeks ago we had a get-together with a few CHW buddies and out came Scattergories. It was all good fun and enjoyable craic, but there were some still some arguments going on.

Take for example the category 'Something cold'. It was suggested by one team that doorstep was something cold. Hmmm...I wouldn't say that's always true. Nor would I say it's the first (or even second) adjective you'd use to describe it. It got voted down. When that happened the team tried to back reference to the previous round when arctic wind was awarded a point. Not always cold they said. Well, while that might be true (I'm no geographer), the round after is not the time to launch your complaint.

The currencies category proved particularly difficult with the letters we had. C? I was quite pleased with my suggestion of cigarettes (in prison) as an answer. I thought it was clever and, more importantly true (if TV shows and movies are to be believed - I've never been) so the other teams might be so impressed with its brilliance that they'd allow it. Not so. It was voted down. Huh.

The next letter was B. Again difficult. But a discussion was had at the start of the round about whether you could have old currencies, like before the Euro. It was decided you could, so we offered the Belgian franc. It was a currency, it begins with B. But noooooo we were told, it begins with F they said. This is a tricky one and one of the reasons why I suggest the SCA. Because, if you go down the route of only allowing what the unit of currency is called (pound, won, dollar) then you rule out a lot of currencies in countries where the unit of currency was unimaginatively named the same as another. Dollar, well do you mean the US, Canadian, Singapore, Australian, Hong Kong and indeed most of the Caribbean? The Great British pound, or the Egyptian pound or the Guernsey pound? North Korean or South Korean won? However, I do see the counter-argument. If you take the country's name into account, well then it's just about writing the country (albeit with the correct currency unit). Tricky. But I stand by my earlier argument, the name of the currency needs the country as the descriptor. Other descriptors were allowed on the night, for example we were successful with old sock for something that smells beginning with O. Equally, I would argue that we would have been successful with sock in that same category but with S. Of course, maybe there would have been no arguments if they'd been easy letters. Standing by the unit arguments, you'd have to be as obscure as the Birr (Ethiopian) and the Colon (Costa Rican) to get any points in those rounds. Unless I'm missing something more obvious on XE.com.

Another one I'd like a ruling on from the SCA is on 'vegetables'. That term, I would argue, is somewhat ambiguous. Do you mean a plant grown for food or a more culinary/cultural definition, ie what it's eaten with/when it's eaten? Because you see, to me, in order for the game to be accessible for all, surely the aim of all board games, it should be the later. And as a consequence, we would have been allowed olive. Nobody puts olives in a fruit salad, or decorates a cheesecake with them. Equally, cream of rhubarb soup it's not a thing anyone eats on a cold winter day. And poor mushrooms, they're nothing in all of this.

Colours is definitely a category that needs a ruling on. Light and dark is tricky. I'd say lazy descriptors like that shouldn't be rewarded, but yet other descriptors (again, like old sock) are allowed, so reluctantly they have to be allowed on consistency grounds. You need the descriptors in colours otherwise you'd only get about 10 letters covered. Oh and I'd say the SCA needs a definitive ruling on black and the nay-sayers who say it's not a colour. So clearly a colour. Crayola have a crayon with it written on and everything.

On the YF weekend, we played the home-made version and colour was a category. For D my group offered denim. I think that's perfectly acceptable, you know immediately what colour it is. But we got shouted down. The group beside us even offered us the history of denim and how it was named after Nimes, the French town, and therefore was unacceptable as a colour. You can understand therefore why we got the biggest laugh at their suggestion of Dijon mustard! They didn't think that through, did they?! And anyway mustard? Yes, I'd say that's an identifiable colour. Dijon mustard is clearly just a condiment.

And this double letter, double point rule? Don't get me started! This has been abused too much over the years and the SCA needs to rule on what exactly is covered. For example, you should not be able to use part of the category to get more points. Things at a football match beginning with F cannot be football fans for two points. The fact the fans are at a football match in the first place, it's clear they're football fans and not rugby, Daniel O'Donnell or any other sort of fans. The descriptor is just an abuse of the generous double points on offer. But what if you've got three (or more) words and only two begin with the letter? Do you get double points? Like Movies/C? Catch Me If You Can. And what if it's T and there's a The in the answer. That's not a double scoring points surely, because in other parts you ignore it, and have, for example The West Wing under W. Are triple points (Clothing/S? Short sleeved shirt) not a logical extension of the double point rule?

See, it's tricky stuff this Scattergories business. In the research for this post I came across other people who've had arguments themselves so I know it's not just the games I've played. One couple argued over menu items, and particularly the veracity of the claim that Tim the Toolman Taylor was a TV star. She took it to her blog here. He responded, in a Frankee/Eamon kind of way, on his blog (some swearing, *ed out). Best I can tell they're still together.

That's the urgency with which we need a SCA. We're in the festive season where families gather round and play board games. How many of these will end in arguments and fights?

Hopefully none like this though. A horrible 'incident' over whether a Philips screwdriver could be used as a weapon where three people died in an attempt to prove it. Fear not, it's just a satire site. But for how long?!

We're sticking to jigsaws this Christmas. Nice bit team work and no point scoring.

Sports (Male) Personality

2011-11-30T16:41:00.001Z

Dear Sportspeople of the femalegender,

The first thing I noticed about thisyear's BBC Sports Personality of the Year award nominees was that none of 'your kind'had made the list. 'Huh', I thought to myself and then I began to wonder whoshould have been nominated instead of all these men.

After a second I realised Jess Ennisshould have been, but her silver medal at the World Championships was probablya bit of a disappointment to these fine people who nominate the shortlist.Afterall, she got gold in 2009 and could only manage third in the public vote.Last year, when she won the European Championships with a personal best, againshe was third. So yes, second in the world is a bit of a disappointment andlet's face it Jess, you're not going to make any improvement on your thirdplaces with that. But wait now. Wasn't Andy Murray also second in theAustralian Open? Well still, he won Wimbledon so that's probably ok then. Ohno, wait, I just remembered that he went out in the semi-finals...again.

Then there's Rebecca Adlington. She'salways winning things. And yup, in 2011, there she was winning a world title,casual as you like. Although, I say that, it was anything but casual. Adlingtonwas 0.65s behind Friis (in first place) at the bell, she turned it round in thelast 100m to win by 0.69s. And let's not forget, this was the 800m; the rest ofthe competitors came in 5-15s later, just to highlight further the fight she had onher hands. I should make mention of her silver medal in the 400m too.

But again, though in this award, you women shouldn't expect too much. In 2008, when Adlington won two, twogold medals at the Olympics, she came third. Nevermind Adlington's medalswere the first Olympic golds any British woman had won in the pool since 1960 -before Gary Lineker was even born. She was third to some fine sportspeoplethough. Chris Hoy won. Well three golds is more than two golds. Fair enough.

Lewis Hamilton was second that year, andoh my, how those Formula One drivers have had to wait to be recognised. Notsince 1896 has a Formula One driver won SPOTY. Sorry, I meant 1996. There wereno cars in 1896, silly. In fact, Formula 1 personalities have only won SPOTYsix times. Out of a whopping 57 times it's been awarded. Why, that's less thanhalf the number of times a woman across all sports have won it (12.5awards to women, Jane Torvill having the 0.5 award when she won withChristopher Dean.) So poor old Formula One. Although, comparing the winners of the Driver's Championships with the placings of the SPOTY, it does seem toguarantee that you'll at least place. Jenson Button, Lewis Hamilton, and JamesHunt all placed while Damon Hill (twice), Nigel Mansell (twice), JackieStewart, and Stirling Moss won it. See women if you were to get a bit moreinvolved in Formula 1, then you'd be sorted and there'd be none of thiscomplaining nonsense.

A few people have mentioned thatChrissie Wellington should have been nominated. Truthfully? I've never heard ofher before. Which is remarkable because apparently she has won four IronmanTriathalon World Championships, you know the one where you swim forever, cycleforever and then do a marathon? Yeah, that. She's won that four times! Quitethe achievement, eh?! Why have I not heard of her before? Still Chrissie, takeheart. Look at poor Phil 'The Power' Taylor. He had to win the PDC WorldChampionship (you know the one half the darts players play in?) 13 times beforehe got second place last year at SPOTY. Ah now, Chrissie, let's not go down theline of saying darts isn't a real sport. It's throwing. And walking. And dartsplayers are well known for needing emergency rehydration...at the bar.

I do have a vague memory of Kath Grainger winning something this year too. Although I can't quite remember whatit was exactly. Sorry, I was busy in the roof space during the highlights ofthe rowing World Championships and couldn't make it out. But can you blame me?Men's sport is built up to be event television. Women's sportis...well, something to put on the red button. Look at how the Football WorldCup was shown this year. Yes, this year, not 2010. Sorry, did I not say theWomen's World Cup? I should have been more specific. Anyway, there it was onthe red button - until the English team made it to the quarterfinals. Now, comeon, don't be silly, it wasn't quite as simple as just getting to thequarterfinals to get on regular television. Oh no, what's women's sports mainstreamcoverage without a bit of last minute letters from politicians to campaign beforehand? Apparently, the reason why it couldn't be scheduled to be on BBC2before was because of those pesky male golfers and their British Open were on BBC1. Ohyou're right, the BBC does have two mainstream terrestial channels, but whowants sport on both of them? Especially so soon after Wimbledon and allits simultaneous BBC1, BBC2 and red button coverage.

Sadly, the team got beaten onpenalties. Imagine if they'd won; they might have been in with a shoutof the Team of the Year at the awards. I say might, because it seems women'steams have only ever one once, the 1969 4x400m relay team. And they had toshare it. Well, it was a Ryder Cup Year. Reading the Wikipedia entry for the Ryder Cup that year though, you'd wonder why. It was marred byunsports...person like behaviour from both sides. And it was tied so the USAactually retained the Cup. So that's why I say the footballers mighthave won. It seems that men's teams can win Team of the Year, by not evenwinning their competition outright, and can be unsporting in doing so.

The important thing here, British Sportswomen, is not to panic. It's not like there's any different treatment for international sportswomen, for they have only managed to win Overseas Personality of the Year six times, out of 51 times it's been awarded. That said, I'm pretty sure that wasn't the equality you were after.

But see, the really difficult thing,girls, is that's it's the Sports Personality of the Year; you need to capture,not only the public's imagination, but as we're learning, also the sports editors and journalists from papers around the country. If only you had some interestingstories which they could tell and then we could read in order to capture ourimagination. Like Darren Clarke, he's nominated this year. He'd never won amajor before, but aged 42 he did! Of course, many of us remember theterrible tragedy of him losing his wife to cancer in 2006. Yet, he helped Europeto a famous victory in the Ryder Cup just a few weeks later. An awful storylike that can't be compared with another, of course. But if all things were equal, SPOTY recognition would surely be coming Sarah Stevenson's way. She won a gold medal in the TaekwondoWorld Championships in May while both her parents were in the last grips ofterminal cancer. Sadly, she lost both of them within months of each other. Wow.Talk about mental strength. I hope you can win gold next year at the OlympicsSarah, when no doubt you'll get lots more coverage.

Gary Lineker said on The One Show when the ten nominees for SPOTY were announced,"Perhaps not been a strong year in women's sport for British women...let'shope that'll change next year with the Olympics." But you see sportwomen, I beg to differwith Sir Gary. I’d change his words to "Perhaps not been a strongyear in women's sport coverage forBritish women...that will change next year with the Olympics." We know that on previous Olympics years it has changed. Maybe not enoughto win the award, but enough to be recognised. Thank goodness they don't have separate medals tables, one for the men and one for the women, eh?

So keep doing whatyou’re doing. Keep being brilliant, keep winning, keep fighting. Some time,somehow, the press and the media will actually give youwidespread coverage in non-Olympic years.

Yours,

Tina

______________________

Dear BBC,

I love you. You know I do. But maybe Gary shouldn’t have been so quick to blamethe newspapers for the nominations. Perhaps look to the coverage you provideof women in sport yourself. Yes, I'm thinking of the red button here. It's good, but it's not great.

And maybe, as a separate issue, you could expand the list of who is asked to nominate to be more, I don't know, inclusive. Just a thought.

Warm regards,

Tina

______________________

Dear Daily Post, Daily Star Sunday, Evening Standard, The Independent, Irish News, Metro, Nuts, The People and Western Mail and Zoo

You suck. Sorry to be blunt. But if you're in the business of sports reporting and can't see how female sports performances and achievements are worthy of reporting and how they've captured the public's imagination, then it needs to be said, out loud and to your face. So again I say: You suck.

Please do better in future. Assuming you're asked again of course.

Thanks in advance,

Tina

______________________

Dear Alex Chick,

Footballers were again snubbed? Get in line.

You remind me of a great CJ quote in The West Wing:

Sam: Where'd you get the bathrobe?
Carol: The gym.
Sam: There are bathrobes at the gym?
CJ: In the women's locker room.
Sam: But not the men's.
CJ: Yeah.
Sam: Now, that's outrageous. There's a thousand men working here and 50 women.
CJ: Yeah, and it's the *bathrobes* that's outrageous.

Oh, wait. Did you mean women footballers were snubbed in the year of a decent performance at the World Cup? Yeah, that is ridiculous.

Yours in blogging,

Tina

______________________

Here's a great article with some stats about coverage, sponsorship and number female sports journalists. Even if you don't read it, this is worth knowing: women's sports coverage makes up just 5% of all sports media. In a good year.

Compare and contrast Children in Need with Comic Relief

2011-11-19T16:39:00.001Z

A few years ago I wrote a blog about how I didn't really like Children in Need. I watched it last night. I know, I know, I've changed. But so have they; they've changed it since I wrote that. They've dropped a lot of the local element from it. Instead of cross overs to the regions with what I (accurately) described in 2005, you get a (relentless) ticker across the bottom of the screen telling you of local schools and community groups' fundraising efforts with the odd pre-recorded film specific to NI.

As I watched last night I began to think though the ways in which Children in Need and Comic Relief differ, now that the BBC regions have been reigned in. While there's a lot of similarities between the two, there's no doubt that Comic Relief is much more edgy, both in terms of the appeal films and the content of the entertainment. This edginess definitely gives it a cooler feel. Is that related to how much each night typically raises? Up until last night's record £26 million, Children in Need never really broke the £20 million on the night barrier. Comic Relief typically raises £50-60 million on the night. This year it was £74 million.

Another big difference is Comic Relief focus on Africa as well as the UK. Maybe the totals raised means we're still shocked at the starvation, illness and poverty that exists in the world today? I hope so.

Given these changes, I set to and created a handy guide to the differences and similarities between the two charities (including the Comic Relief spin-off, Sport Relief). I did it in the style of a wordle, with the larger the type meaning the more importance/greater emphasis/association it has on/with the night. The colours mean nowt, but they do make it pretty.

Of course, when you're talking differences then there's perhaps none bigger than the Wogan factor. Last night he seemed to have a dose of the Brucies. You know, not quite knowing where he was, scripted jokes, not knowing how to read the autocue, talking over Tess, that kind of thing. Still, you can't imagine it without him. Although we said that about the Eurovision too and Graham Norton is so fantastic on it I barely miss Wogan.

If you do miss the more cringy aspects of Children in Need, given their new output, please enjoy these videos from yesteryear.

(Please be warned the song will be stuck in your head all the flipping live long day, like it's stuck in mine.)

Not dissimilar to Gareth Malone's choir last night. Although they sang Avril Lavigne (or Avrille Le Vine if you're Terry - see here at 2:40.45. I thought Fearne did very well not to show laughter in her face.)

I don't even know how to explain this next one. It's from the opening of the 1992 show. It nearly hurts to watch it.

Contemporary dance

2011-11-14T23:50:00.000Z

I know what you're thinking, when did I get so cultured. But hang tight. This post will again confirm that I'm horribly mainstream.

You see, I've learnt last summer that contemporary dance doesn't have be 'dancing' in a morphsuit/floaty pastel dress to clanging atonal music. Oh no. There's a subdivision I have named Mainstream Contemporary Dance. It's for dancing numpties like me.

I was watching Dancing With the Stars on Saturday morning. See, right there, mainstream. Anyway Christina Perri was on it (again with the mainstream, although I'll come back to this later). Anyway the American version of Strictly seems to have some sort of 'Sob Story Slot' (this might not be the actual name of it) and so there was a girl who'd had a brain tumour on dancing to Christina Perri's song 'Arms'. Now with all the airplay (remember, mainstream) of Jar of Hearts I hadn't heard this. It's lovely and the dance was beautiful. More ballet perhaps than contemporary dance (although in my limited understanding of contemporary dance that seems to be ok), but beautiful all the same.

Skip to 3.00 for the dance, although her story with the brain tumour is worth it for context.

Anyway that reminded me of reading Christina Perri's story and how her Jar of Hearts song was featured on the American So You Think You Can Dance last summer when she was trying to make it. She was working as a waitress, the song was used and bam, two weeks later she had a recording deal. I came across this reading another blog I dip in and out of and it had me in a loop of watching dances from the American SYTYCD (which is infinitely better than ours by the way). So in this small way, I was ahead of the curve on Christina Perri. Not mainstream. Ha!

Then on Sunday night's Strictly, who was appearing? Only Christina Perri. She sang Jar of Hearts (see aforementioned airplay) and they had Kristina and Robin dance to it in that Stricly come-on-half-way-through-the-song way. I don't really know what 'style' of dance they did, essentially they just did a lot of tricks and what not. It reminded me of the free dance the finalists do, although Christina's dress is Rumba-y. But then she's in bare feet which is the contemporary signal to me, so it's confusing to a dance novice like myself. I will say this though, those candles must have been a bally nightmare to light and keep lit. And it now seems to be important for men to dance to Christina Perri songs with their shirts unbuttoned.

You don't have to watch it, it wasn't my favourite and it's not that important to the post, but seeing as I mentioned it I thought I might as well make it easy for you.

Anyway, this is all pointing to my two favourite contemporary dances from my tour through them last summer which I thought I'd share (annoyingly, I can't embed them here, but you've stuck with this post this long, you may as well click on through).

First off, the Jar of Hearts one that discovered Christina Perri. I'm going to sound like a real contemporary dance numptyhead here, but I thought the interpretation of the lyrics was so much better than the Strictly one. You can watch it here.

This is my favourite one though. Just beautiful. And then Cat Deeley starts to speak. It's to Collide, which interestingly is song that featured on my August 2006 playlist...the same time as I was watching Travis Wall (who choreographed this routine - he's standing at the end) competing in SYTYCD. Yeah, fair enough, only interesting to me.

Much like this post. Unless you too are a fan of mainstream contemporary dance.

Dreaming big

2011-11-04T11:45:00.001Z

Tonight, Karen Marathon* has her very first photography exhibit. It's based around her iPhone photographs, or iPhoneography, if you will. [You can see some of her work on her new website.]

I would like to take some credit for encouraging her along this photography route. Here's the proof. Not long after I wrote that we both started a GCSE in Photography. Although I didn't finish it, Karen did and will soon have a degree in Creative Imaging. Yeah, ok there's a limit to how much credit I can actually take.

Even walking down the street is like seeing inside her photography brain. She sees a class photo in something I (and let's face it, probably you) would walk right past.

Like this chair in a front yard in Studentland. I think you can see I walked past it.

Or these closed curtains. I know, really, closed curtains. But there was a great photo in that.

Yesterday I went with her to help set up the studio where the exhibit will be. It was so great to be there, it was another landmark in the journey. Karen got a lovely gift and card from someone she has inspired to follow her own adventure in photography. I nearly cried. Karen, for the record, held it together like a pro, like a pros tend to do.

Anyway, not to go all Martin Luther King on you, Karen has a dream and she's steadily working towards it.

I like it when people dream big. I like it even more when they start achieving those dreams. It's exciting!

*Tonight Karen Marathon will become Karen Photographer in my contacts. It seems only right.

The goose is getting fat

2011-10-31T21:54:00.001Z

I don't know why Hallowe'en is as big as it is really. It must be the dressing up. It kind of annoys me. Like today on This Morning there were witches (I'm not actually sure if they were witches or 'witches', I didn't watch long enough to find out). Do they ever have Christians on when it's Christmas or Easter? I've never seen that happen.

Anyway, that said, last week on our YF weekend we had pumpkins to carve.

My group did the Christian thing to do crosses on it.

I've never carved a pumpkin before so it was quite cool. Back when we younger you didn't ever see a pumpkin in the supermarket, no way. But now they're all over the place. So along with the younger generation thinking ours is weird because we didn't have mobile phones or the internet, they're also going to think it's hilarious that we didn't have pumpkins, like we were living through the War when they didn't have bananas.

We used to carve turnips. In fact truth be told, I used to think that American turnips were really orange in colour. Yeah, I know. Shut up.

You don't often see a pumpkin head with a moustache. That's Hallowe'en's fault for being before Movember.

Reminiscing about carving turnips turned into a funny Yorkshiremen-esque bit between me and a co-leader:

Pumpkins! Luxury! We never had pumpkins.
No, never.
Turnips. We carved turnips.
Turnips? Luxury! We used potatoes. And then we had to eat them.
Eat potatoes?! We used to dream of eating potatoes...

It really helps if you read it with a Yorkshire accent in mind. Not that I can do one, you understand.

Paradise!

And just while I'm on this little Hallowe'en rant, what's the deal with trick or treating? Give me a bit of hallowe'en rhyming. Youth clubs around NI could probably get European funding to protect that part of NI culture.

Unplayed

2011-10-27T22:54:00.000+01:00

I'm been working on my computer tonight so thought I'd play some music. I was a bit bored of whatever was playing and thought it'd be a good idea to play some of the tracks I've never played before. I was shocked, shocked I say to discover there are 3039 of them. Three thousand and thirty nine of them! Are you kidding me?! Even taking out the 133 re-imported voice memos (love you iOS 5) that's 2906 songs I've never listened to. I've gone to the trouble of putting them on there and never listened to them. Why, why?

Some of the things are just recent imports from #TinaLostinSpace but there's still some surprising songs, either because I have them, or because I've never listened to them, and of course there's some no-great-shock-I've-never-listened-to-you songs.

Here are some examples:

Category 1 - Songs I can't believe I have
Lost Pup (in a Christmas Shop) - Adam Faith (Seriously? What?)
Venus - Bananarama (No way, I have that?)
Axel F - Crazy Frog (You are making a mockery of my iTunes.)
Hero - Enrique Iglesias (I don't have a lighter, that's probably why I've never play this)
Let's Face the Music and Dance - Fred Astaire (He sung too, did he? Huh.)
Any Dream Will Do - Jason Donovan (Fear not, I've played Too Many Broken Hearts)
The Rain in Spain - My Fair Lady (Well I know the film, forgotten I had the soundtrack.)

Cateogory 2 songs - Songs I'm surprised I've never played
Make You Feel My Love - Adele (I'm not that fond of this song, which is unfortunate because I watch the X-Factor. )
Chasing Pavements - Adele (Yeah, no, not this one either. Still thought it might have sneaked in there though.)
Hand in Pocket - Alanis Morriestte (Really?! Definitely thought this would have been played once, at least for teenage memories sake.)
Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler (Oh come on Tina, play a power ballad!)
Prospekt's March EP - Coldplay (I have no excuse to offer you.)
Home - Dixie Chicks (Again, I heart the Chicks.)
Things Can Only Get Better - D:Ream (This once was the lead song on Top Tunes, my homemade tape compilation tapes so this does shock me a bit.)
Standing Still - Jewel (Shocked. She's brilliant.)
I've Been Everywhere - Johnny Cash (I'm sure I've listened to this, maybe I have it twice?)
Kids - MGMT (Hmm, I'm not, like, a massive fan, but I would have thought this would have got played one time.)
Losing My Religion -REM (No. Way. Surely I would have played this at some point. If you had to name one REM song chances are this would be it.)

Category 3 - No shock here
No Matter What - Boyzone (Whine on boys.)
Sacrifice - Elton John (My least favourite Elton John song ever. Ev-er. Even more than Diana Candle in the Wind which makes everyone cringe nowadays.)
Some Day My Prince Will Come - Disney (Tests have shown this song can make your ears bleed.)
When a Man Loves a Woman - Percy Sledge (Boke.)
Most anything by The Killers (Aside from Mr. Brightside, I'm not a fan. There I said it.)
Most anything by The Kooks (Say your Rs right and I might listen to you.)
Most anything by Lionel Ritchie (You can whine on as well.)
Most anything by Mariah Carey (Dreamlover? Do me a favour.)
Most anything by The Prodigy (At the risk of sounding 90 it's just noise.)

So I started working my through the list, but I couldn't do it. Aside from the fact it would take ten and a half days, it was just too painful for the most part. So now I'm just picking out the real travesties of justice and playing them, you know like I Know Where It's At - All Saints.

Now where are my oversized cargo pants?

I got love for you if you were born in the 80s

2011-10-16T14:47:00.001+01:00

Over a period of weeks at the end of the summer I pretty much ended up touching everything I own because of the great roof space clear out of '11. I was supposed to do it last summer, but then I went to see Toy Story 3 and I don't think I could cope with the idea of throwing anything from my childhood away. So this summer...well, I still didn't really, but I did tidy up the stuff and put things together that had for too long been apart. Like my Guernsey doll had been missing a shoe for about fifteen years because it was carelessly strewn in another box. She was very pleased to get it back. I imagine.

Actually it turned out to be a good thing that it took me this long to post this blog. Because just this week on Twitter I was pointed towards the Flickr collections that someone had put on of a 1985 and 1986 Argos catalogue. Go on, go get lost in those for a while. I'll wait here. You'll be amazed at how much your toys cost. Like that Fisher Price garage/car park thing that everyone had. Twenty quid, which in 1985 was...well, a clean fortune. And just what the heck was this slide/plane deal. Did this pass safety standards? Oh, I see it's the reason we have safety standards! And what's going on here? Some love triangle at the home gym? Mind you, in amongst all that humour, I still look at the Mr. Frosty longingly. Never got one, but if wishing had made it so...

So, the big roof space clear out was depressing and exciting all at once. It was exciting to find things I hadn't seen in year, things I thought were long gone and, well depressing because of the things I kept. This post celebrates some of the more exciting finds!

Like Tiny Tears. Mum made her a Bunny outfit to match mine. Bless.

And here she is ready for a rainy day!

This was her when I got her. Quite the head of hair she has there. (Meanwhile David got what appears to be a underpanted Action Man.)

Sweet Secrets anyone? She was in a car and it turned into...

a brush! Not one that you could brush my hair with (see photos). I liked to think of them as Transformers for girls.

My Little Pony! The one on the right is the one I famously cut the hair of and blamed on David. Sorry again. The yellow one had glitter hair - it was a birthday party present from someone. As was the blue one's outfit. I seem to only have three leg warmers and one shoe left. Oops. You can see more My Little Pony magic here!

Etch A Sketch! Santa brought me this, then it didn't work and Mum had to send it back to him. He rectified his elves' mistake. And you can see it still works!! Good job Santa!

As does my type writer.

Here it is in all its glory.

Anyone remember Acorn Green? I don't really know much about it except I had the postman and the nurse. The Argos catalogue has the nurse on the bike, but I always put the postman on the bike. I don't know if he came with a bike too, or maybe it was my logical child brain working out that the postman also needed a bike and the nurse would work in Acorn Green General.

Crayola Draw 'n' Do desk! Oh the pictures I drew on this desk!

Snugglebum, which remains, to this day, a fantastic name for a toy. David got me this for Christmas one year. And I even documented in my diary the day she squeaked for the last time. I think it came from the water when I washed her hair, for I loved washing and brushing her hair. Although I really don't remember whatever the hairband thing is she has on here. Nor did I ever have her hair all crazy.

I found my Gordon the Gopher! He still squeaks.

I also found our Edd the Ducks. CBBC kid, me.

Remember when 3D glasses looked like this?

Finders Keepers! The yellow bear was a birthday party present, the pink swan a present from my parents. I naively thought I could lock things from David in the swan. That was until he fashioned a key out of a crayon to open it up. Tight security eh?

In fact, here it is opened my birthday. Looks like I also got some Care Bears.

Probably some of these fellas. I also found my soft toy Care Bears - Bedtime Bear and one that was a reject from a factory (Sunshine Bear yellow but with a red heart Care Bears fans). Good old bargain hunt parents!

I quite liked the Care Bears. This is my Care Bear bumbag and all the things I deemed important enough to carry with me in it - my Popple, my Giggle Wiggle and my Care Bears purse and mirror. Yup, all the essentials there. These were important enough that I took them rollerstaking round the block. Oh yes.

I found my umbrella!

Clearly we weren't a superstitious lot.

Remember Trolls? I had the surgeon and the astronaut. Who knew Trolls were so keen on space exploration? (It would stand to reason they'd have to have medical experts. D'uh.)

Amongst about 92 pencil tins, I found my pen tidy. Remember these? Its exhaust is the pencil sharpener! Clever!

I had about 40 of these coloured rubbers.

Oh yes, a real Bronx cheer! Who ever called them that?!

This was David's one. Mine was red. Don't panic David, there was no money in it.

Remember these things? You could go swimming with them, although why you would was beyond me.

I'm glad I found my medal! I was one half of the team that won the 1989 P4 three legged race.

There I am with the medal, and I believe in my hands is the very tie that we used to. I look every bit the winner! While David is clearly jealous.

So that was all good fun! And then I found my Sindy and Barbie dolls. Well!

I had Crystal Barbie and My First Barbie (which genuinely was my first Barbie). I loved her white dress and her perfect little pink high heels. Sadly Crystal Barbie has only one leg now, but you can't tell in her evening gown.

It seems I got My First Barbie on my 5th birthday. Along with my bike basket.

I got the Sindy in red trousers first though. Bless her, the mid 80s Sindy had a bit of a big head. Ballerina Sindy then joined the fold. She could do all sorts of amazing ballerina moves, such flexibility! The last Sindy, in the blue dress, was a later addition. She even came with make-up, which was still smeared across her face. I wiped it off in the tidy up, let her be stored with a modicum of dignity eh?

A big head was the least of Ballerina Sindy's worries. She has a serious touch of the alopecia.

Apparently the makers of new Sindy got in trouble with the Barbie people for copying her design. I don't see it myself. Ahem.

And then there was Jem. I don't know where I got Jem from, I don't think it was my mum's style. If memory serves she was some sort of a pop star, with possibly a double life twist. While the Barbie people got into problems about the ridiculous size of Barbie's hips, or feet, or boobs, the makers of Jem were careful to avoid all unrealistic portrayals of women.

She was a bit of a heffer by comparison though. Check out those shoulders. Sturdy.

My favourite comparison comes with the shoes. Jem wasn't that much taller than Barbie, but she had majassive feet.

However, rumours that she had to have them make by Harland and Wolff are unfounded.

Look at the little tiny Barbie shoes (which include my collection of one red and one blue shoe for Crystal Barbie and her 'condition'). Jem's big boats are in the back row. Poor Sindy wasn't blessed with the prettiest of shoes either, but definitely more practical than either Barbie's or Jem's.

I don't think I really need to prove to anymore that I threw nothing out, but just incase you do question the validity of that statement, here's one more find:

my cast from when I broke my arm. In 1993. Eeew.

I found this picture of Karen and I on holiday in Majorca. Somehow the cast isn't the thing I notice about the photo.

Nice hats girls.

Compliments

2011-10-12T22:28:00.000+01:00

It's been a few weeks since I blogged. No major surprise about that, but it is disappointing as I was doing so well there for a few weeks. I still need to finish off writing about things I found in the roofspace, but for today I thought I'd write about some of the compliments I've received the past week or so.

It started on Saturday. Some Soul Mates people did a worship night Soul Mates style in Ballinamallard. Over the course of the day I got told (from a combination of lovely Soul Mates people):
I'm easy to talk to on the phone (practice makes perfect).
I have nice lips (emm...ok, thanks. I like them, even if they are chaptastic).
I'm funny (surprisingly this did not come after I told the Dappy's favourite bread joke...na na naan).
I'm smart (two minutes after this I was asked what a neutrino was - I didn't know but thankfully that isn't all that's on the smartness test).
I remember stuff (I do, it's true).

Then it carried on into Sunday. Leading a group in YF I was complimented on my small group leading abilities. This came from someone who's just started a year-out so must have been looking out for the things they got taught. Good to know I do the things I'm supposed to in leading a small group!

Then last night I got told I was good at directions and map reading.

Aww shucks, you guys!

Go on, compliment someone and make them feel all lovely, super and proud of their phone talking abilities*!

*Compliments may vary.

Welcome home (again)

2011-09-28T20:56:00.001+01:00

Happy 1st Birthday Little Kiera! It's easy to see how you make me doubley cool just because I am your aunt!

Second children always want to check parity of esteem between them and their older sibling. I'm no psychologist (heck, I have problems even spelling the word) but I think it's a way of trying to make yourself feel better for getting his bike and stuff second hand rather than getting your own new.

So just like I wrote Kiera's brother a blog the day I met him for the first time, I wrote Kiera one too (well, in two parts). And just like I made that into a movie for his 1st birthday, I made hers into a video too.

See, equal love.

I can tell by your big smiles I see when I come to visit you like your home! I knew you would.

Drama drama drama

2011-09-25T19:05:00.000+01:00

Last weekend I watched all of series one of Downton Abbey. In fact, I watched in a day, well essentially an afternoon. I started at about 12.00pm and finished by YF. Not bad going eh?! Well it was easy, it's very good. Maggie Smith is her standard self, that is to say she is absolutely fantastic and kills it with her lines. I like Hugh Bonneville too, and the history part is quite interesting, although probably not as good as Mad Men's if I'm honest, but comparing the two isn't fair.

I would say I don't know why I missed it first time round, but I know exactly why. The reasons are two fold.

1. It's on a Sunday night. That's YF time and has been since about 1992.
2. I don't really like costume dramas.

This second one needs further explanation, for a history geek like myself should be all about them. Well, I blame my mother. Now wait, let me explain.

When I was young she had on video Pride and Prejudice and watched it. All. The. Time. And I don't mean the (apparently) cool 1995 Colin Firth one. Oh no! I mean the 1980s one which had Raquel from Only Fools in. (I was giving it the benefit of the doubt there when I said 1980s, I just looked it up, 1980. It's as old as I am. A classic indeed.) They'd all just sit around in bad light with their bonnets on and talk in riddles while eating with an occasional set dance. Well that's how it seemed to me anyway.

You see my problem, it started with adaptations of great books you're supposed to have read. At age seven or eight I hadn't read Pride and Prejudice. What am I talking about? At age 31 I still haven't read Pride and Prejudice. I'm not likely to either. I not fussed on reading, but that's a whole other post. But you see, you're supposed to have a clue about Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth. I don't. I don't know about Bleak House; I don't know about Jane Eyre; I don't know about Tess of the d'Urbervilles. You name a classic book by a literary 'great' and I won't know about it. Well except for A Christmas Carol, but that's because of The Muppets.

Maybe it's because of my English classes at school. In GCSE we did Pygmalion and Animal Farm. Well that's just My Fair Lady and talking animals. The only Shakespeare I ever did in school was in third year (Romeo and Juliet). I've seen Macbeth since, in the theatre, but I only went because I had to, a colleague was in it. Actually now that I've said that I can't be absolutely sure it wasn't Hamlet. See what I mean? I'm just not interested.

The problem is compounded by the fact people go on about them and make them sound so worthy. Not people people, but like the Radio Times falls over itself when there's a new adaptation of something. There's behind the scenes, interviews, comparisons...yawn. Like I said, I don't know how the character was written, I'm not bothered by some new director or producer's take on him. Or how (s)he's more evil/better looking/smarter than (s)he is in the book.

So it's from all this that I got my aversion to costume dramas. For I discovered it's better to avoid anything remotely in the costume drama genre. You might only become one of those luvvy types.

All that said, if you're like me and haven't seen Downton Abbey and have no apparent interest, please enjoy these spoofs that were shown as part of Comic Relief this year. They make fun of the style of show and are actually a good way in to the story.

If you love Downton Abbey, you'll still enjoy these - even if you've seen them before!

Question Time (Part 2 - the big match and Twitter analysis)

2011-09-22T00:22:00.001+01:00

So we made our way to the studio and fewlazy keenos now decided this was the time to squeeze past us. The cheek! Onceseated, the floor manager came on and explained a bit more, like when to clapand when not. It's a complicated intro - Dimbley does his bit to camera andyou'll want to clap we were told. The music starts and you'll want to clap.Dimbleby will introduce each panellist and you'll want to clap. But no, youmust wait until you get nod. He ran through the end and instructed us not to bereaching for our coats and putting them on as there'd be audience shots all theway behind the credits. And then he asked for a few volunteers to do the mock panel.Once again, it was a nice mix of normoes and weirdoes. I had read on the otherblog that everyone who volunteered for the panel featured in some point duringthe programme, and aside from one woman, that was true in this show too.

There’s a camera in the middle, you can nearly make it out against the black. I felt like it was on me the whole night.

It wasn't.

We ran through (quite a long) rehearsal of questions and debate on two subjects completely unrelated to whatwas going to come up: the Peace Bridge and the three miles to schoolcontroversy and childhood obesity. They do something completely different so thatyou don’t back reference yourself in the actual recording “Well, I saidearlier” kind of thing. It was fairly lively debate and something everyone hada view one. For my part, even though I had things to say (like it being amindset thing about the bridge, or more impolitely you were outside the threemile cut off, now you're not, tough luck. The same rule applies across NI, ofcourse it's bloody fair.) I practically sat on my hands for fear I'd be drawnin to the debate and then later, forget about the national TV bit. No likely, but you never can tell.

After the mini debate, the head ofaudience (ok, I don't know what her title was) came out and read out the namesof the people that'd be asking the question. It was mine and Richard's viewbefore I went that they can't make you ask a question. That's probably stilltrue, they can't make you, but they can make it really difficult for you to getout of it. As each name was read out I stuck my fingernails into my hand.I really didn’t want to ask a question.

The woman called the camera and soundpeople to the front to mark on their studio plans where the people are sitting.The first name was read out, and she had to stand up while they marked it down,then she had to come out to get her typed out question. Then the second and soon. There was no chance for you to say quietly to someone in charge 'actually,I'd really rather not/my voice has gone/I can't be on TV as per the courtinjunction'. Thankfully as we went through the list my name wasn't there.Breakdown on national TV averted!

There were six questioners and onewarm up. The questions weren't announced to us so they were as much a surpriseto us when they were read as they were to the panel. When Dimbleby came out hesaid that we weren't doing the warm up question anymore, he'd just do a generalwarm up. He introduced the panel and they came into applause and then once theyhad their microphones on (which was somewhat of an ordeal for Martina Andersonin her green dress - she had to go off stage to get the wire underneath it.Awkward.) Dimbleby asked what their big news stories of the week were. MartinaAnderson said the celibacy thing, Owen Paterson said the economy, NicolaHorlick said the euro and Nigel Dodds said the boundary changes. We never heardDiane Abbott's because Dimbleby led the discussion along those lines. Doddsgave a politician's answer of 'we're looking at the situation closely'. Abbottwas a bit more candid, saying that she didn't believe she was in trouble from MPs from slated constituencies but would wait and see. There was discussion with the audience aboutGregory Campbell and the East Londonderry seat and boom, we were ready for theoff.

Apparently it was Owen Paterson's first time on Question Time. Bless him, it showed.

Dimbleby did his intro and we waitedto clap. And waited. And waited. And then we clapped. And sure enough the firstquestion came from the first questioner, the warm-up questioner was cut. It's acut-throat business, this TV malarky.

Like I said before, I was quite awareof the cameras and, based on the other blog that I had read, I was conscious ofmaking any vigorous head movements or massive facial expressions lest they bepicked up. But I was also aware of what I applauded for. This is actually quitedifficult because you’re so used to joining in with applause because everyoneelse is clapping and not actually thinking about it.

During the recording I kind of lostthe order of who was asking what, but by the end it was clear that warm-up ladywasn't the only one to be cut. There was guy in front of me and one behind whowere to ask questions but nada. It was only when I saw it go out that night Irealised the warm-up lady did get to ask a question, the one about priestcelibacy (or someone wussed out backstage and she was happy to read their question). I thought it probably was the weakest question of the night, not reallyanything to do with politicians (or investment bankers in Horlick's case) andhad all the potential to descend into the abuse scandals which isn't whollyrelated to celibacy. On the way out I asked the guy who had had the lastquestion what it was going to be on - the Orange Order and the disciplinaryaction facing Kennedy and Eliot because of Ronan Kerr's funeral. What? Firstlyno 'funny' question?! Secondly, I'm not sure that's exactly what I understoodwhen the woman on the phone said my question had to be main stream and ofinterest to everyone in the UK.

After it was over we had to watch the panel leave before we could. Incase we accosted them in corridor I expect.

Afterwards I read the tweets on the#bbcqt hashtag. It seems the general feeling of the night was the audiencechallenged the panel and came off the victors, with great tweets including“Again, it needs repeating – the Northern Irish are definitely brighter thanthe panel” and “Entire panel (especially the rabbit-eyed Tory) outgunned byinformed and eloquent audience”. I don't really think I can take any credit for that. Some people didn’t like the celibacy questionand there were a few that made comment of the fact that the questions weregenerally not NI centric questions. There were a lot that didn’t like the factthat the audience seemed to be liberally minded. I don’t know about that, likeI said earlier, we had to declare who we voted for (and who we would vote forin GB). There were people that were allowed to watch from behind the officialaudience seats (don’t really know how they snuck in), but they weren’t allowedto clap or respond in any way because it would only skew the response.

The real hits of the night on Twitterwere Paterson’s ‘rinky-dink’ description which had someone tweeting “Thanks toPaterson’s “rinky-dink”, I now have the Pink Panther theme song stuck in myhead”. There was also his rather unconvincing appeal during the first question on public service strikes to remember "We're all in this together". Twitter was all over that. And course there was Martina Anderson’s hair, I’m surprised it wasn’ttrending on Twitter. My favourite tweet of the night was “Everyone on #bbcqt istalking…very…slowly. It’s the debating equivalent of doing big writing to makean essay look bigger”.

Seriously, if you don’t watch Question Time with thecommentary of the hashtag running alongside, it’s like you’re only getting halfthe experience. There were lots of funny (and sometimes quite rude and mean) comments on there.

When I watched the show back I was pleasantly surprised at how little you saw me. Like I said above, I really did feel like the cameras were right in front of me. But these shots were about the best you saw of me all night.

Look! There I am, right up at the top there.

No, I don't think a 'hello mum' sign would go down too well with the producers. Or the security people for that matter. They're not known for being big fans of a comedy sign.

Jeez Nicolai, way steal my limelight there.

Oh and that bit Dimbledore said at the start about running straight through turned out to be a lie. At one point during the Libya question he called on someone whose hand was raised 'on the gangway' and on TV we saw a young man in a red check shirt speak. Well I can exclusively reveal that actually it was the guy beside him who was being called on. But he said he'd pass to his friend whose hand had been up longer. Dimbleby said it was very polite or kind or something and then his friend spoke. None of that exchange made the programme. Not surprising, it wasn't wildly entertaining, and I suppose they want to stop other people from doing it in other recordings. Pretty much everything else he said was true, especially when he said the hour would go really quickly.

Oh and looking silly talking while your hand is still up. But we probably knew that already.

Question Time (Part 1 - the pre-match build-up)

2011-09-20T21:53:00.005+01:00

I know what you're thinking. Andyou're right, that was my forehead you saw on BBC Question Time on Thursdaynight!

This man seems to have forgotten his hand puppet.

I love a bit of Question Time. Sowhen at the end of the stand out edition (about phone hacking when we wantedHugh Grant for actual PM, not acting PM) in July David Dimbleby said that second one back after thesummer break was coming from Derry I thought I'd apply for tickets. Well whathave you got to lose?!

The form online is more complex thanstandard audience forms, I suppose trying to be all balanced and what not. I had forgotten all about it until I opened up Twitter on my phone last Monday and sawsomeone I follow getting a phonecall from the QT people. The missed phonecalland voicemail that I had ignored when I first unlocked my phone (I must havehad important news to tweet to ignore this) made sense, it must have been fromthe audience people!

I listened to the voicemail and sureenough it was from Question Time. I panicked, naturally. Afterall, it's noteveryday you get a phonecall to appear on national TV. The girl on Twitter whoalso had been invited wussed out because she discovered during her conversationwith the TV people that they actually want you to participate and not just bethere in a 'hello mum capacity'. I swithered as to whether to accept or not. Ireally didn't want to be on TV asking a question, but would you ever get theopportunity to go again? Probably not.

So I called back and said I couldcome, thinking in my head that if I changed my mind I could just not show up.The woman on the other end of the phone was quite intimidating. She asked methe same questions I had filled out on the form, I suppose to test me, makesure I really did vote for who I said I did. Then she asked me what my questionwould be.

Eh...right...question?

She tried to help me out by sayingwhat in the main UK news would I want to talk about.

Eh...right...news?

I reverted to my form (I had filledout the week more women had been rescued from a human trafficking ring). Butbefore I could even get the words 'human trafficking' out she had cut me off tosay it had to be current and in the news this week. [It turned out the next dayslaves were found in some part of England. Ha! In your face phone lady.Although I'm not sure I should be celebrating that just to be proved right.]

Eh...right...news this week?

I said something about the economyand public sector jobs. That stuff's always in the news and it must have beenwhat she wanted to hear. I was told I'd get an email and to reply to it withthe wording of my question by the next day.

I still dithered as to what myquestion should be about. I wanted it to be good enough for them not to withdrawthe invitation, but crap enough for them not to make me ask it. It was a fineline. Something like 'what's your favourite type of pasta?' would have me bumped across, but something like 'Is Libya in danger ofbecoming the new Iraq?' might stand you a chance. It's provocative, snappy andcurrent, the things they ask you for in the email. But also, if it was just abit out there you might get the 'funny' question at the end. It was a minefieldfor a Hello Mum spectator like myself.

I did a bit of research and cameacross a blog of someone who had been to one after the leadership debate lastyear. That was useful information and calmed me a bit. I watched the news andresearched current news stories on tinternet. Heck, I even watched The DailyPolitics.

If you've ever seen Question Timeyou'll know there's sometimes a bit of to-ing and fro-ing and Dimbleby willoften bounce it back to the questioner and get their views. For that reason Istayed away from the economy, the euro and the strikes. What if I did getpicked and what if Dimbleby asked me something really really hard? On nationaltelevision! Oh die! So instead I went for the electoral boundary changesthat had just been announced that day. That's topical, (relatively) interestingand affects the whole country (or will once Scotland and Wales have their newconstituencies announced). But again I was back to the words in the email aboutbeing provocative. I tried to make my question as unprovocative as possible:who are the real winners and losers of the proposed electoral boundary changes?

I could have asked something implyingthe Liberal Democrats shot themselves in the foot or something about theboundary commission effectively gerrymandering Conservative wins. That's fairlyprovocative. I emailed it off. And then practised the wording every so oftenbefore Thursday. Well, fail to prepare, prepare to fail. So they say.

I arrived up in Derry that afternoon.Turns out Richard and Rebecca live just around the corner from where it wasfilmed so got to hang out with them and even walk across the Peace Bridge.Twice.

We were told to be there between6.00pm and 6.30pm and as I arrived I saw what can only be described as across-section of society standing outside the doors. There was every type ofperson imaginable. Old, young, student, professional, weirdo, normoe. You nameit, they were there. (For reference, I fall under the young normoe category.)

We were taken through our securitychecks and what not and then given a card to write our second question on. Thewoman reassured me that you would know before the programme began if you wereone of the chosen ones. They even had it printed on the card; clearly I wasn't the only one who’s ever had a panic.

I sat down with the people in frontof me in the queue. More of their people arrived and as they hadn't been muchcraic up to that point, I left them room and switched seats. The new peoplewere lovely and were going through the same sort of anguish I was as to whetheryour question might be picked out. We sat there for the guts of an hour, andthey were really good craic while we waited.

It soon became apparent heads wereturning to the door we came in and sure enough, there he was, the man himself,His Right Honourable Sir Lord David Dimbleby of Televisionland! He made his waythrough the room and came to a microphone at the front. He ran through whatwould happen next (we'd be taken through and with a mock panel made up fromaudience members do a mini QT), the panel (who's who) and how the recordingactually works (no stopping, no editing and no retakes - not the complexitiesof satellites and who actually gets to press 'record'). Also, if you want tospeak, raise your hand and keep it there until you are called on, otherwisehe’ll assume you don’t want to speak anymore. He also said that it helps thelook of the whole thing if you don’t keep your hand up while speaking.Something our audience didn’t always manage.

He was very charming and personable in the preamble.

The cards for the second questionwere collected and from what I gathered, they choose the questions based on thepopularity of the topics people ask about. Then from each of those topics aquestion is picked out, presumably based on the snappiness factor, but alsochecked for balance against other potential questioners. After hearing aboutsix questions would be picked for the programme, I looked round the room. Weguestimated there were 150 there so you'd have to be really unlucky to haveyours chosen. Or you know, lucky if you’re that way inclined.

We were told they'd seat people fromthe front row, so if you wanted a front row seat get to the door. All thekeenos charged. Me and my new friends hung back and bit and got mid-queue.Perfect we decided. Not back row uninvolved, not front row eager beaver.

Part 2, the actual programme, tomorrow. You can watch the programme still on iPlayer here if you're keen. If not...well I'm still going to tell you about it tomorrow.

Bit quiet

2011-09-13T23:50:00.000+01:00

I didn't deliberately stop blogging there, I just couldn't get to my desk.

#TinaLostInSpace took on a new twist. I started tidying the shelves under my desk. I didn't tweet about it, partly because #TinaUnderTheDesk doesn't really sound right. And partly because it was quite dull stuff. There were all my university files. I mean all my university files, first year through and most every draft of every essay for five years. There were university and school textbooks, exam marking files, a collection of notebooks (unwritten in because, you know, they're too nice) and empty ringbinders and lever arch files (incase of a filing emergency, of course).

I still haven't quite finished the tidy up to end all tidy ups, but I have reclaimed my desk and most of my floor. I think the next part might be to sort through my wardrobe(s) and have a clear out there too. It's quite cleansing, all this tidying. Becomes a bit addictive. But I tell you what, it is quite amazing I haven't developed asthma from all the dust I was living in.

In other news, I got hooked on Mad Men. Quite a brilliant show. It does take a while to get into it, but you do it won't let you go. I watched season 1 about a year ago, and was encouraged by Jill not to skip ahead and watch season 4 even though it was on TV. Now having watched them in order, I am glad I didn't. The costumes, the writing, the character development is just brilliant. Plus, a drama set in the 1960s and referring to the events of it is brilliant for a history geek like me. There are some cracking lines, mostly from Roger Sterling, so it's funny too, but in a more subtle kind of way. Actually the whole show is subtle. So much so you might be mistaken for thinking nothing ever happens. But you'd be wrong.

I even went as far as to 'mad men myself' on the AMC website. So here I am hanging out with my pals at Sterling Cooper.

I don't condone smoking. But it seems that's all they do. Well that and drink.

Now, I don't think it'll overtake The West Wing as my favourite show ever, but, as you can tell from my enthusiasm, it's made a cracking effort up the charts.

Emmys this weekend. I have my fingers crossed for Mad Men nominees. Most especially Mrs. Blankenship.

You'd never belief that was The Karate Kid's mum. The first one. I mean the make-up's good, but that's not Jada Pickett Smith under there.

The musical equivalent of well-read

2011-09-03T15:20:00.001+01:00

The title of this comes from a compliment I once got from Jose. But this post makes me question whether it was really a compliment or not.

During the clear out and tidy up of the roof space (that is slowly killing me) I came across my CD collection. They were proudly displayed in my room until a few years ago it became apparent there was really no need as everything was on my computer and iPod.

Or so I thought.

Part of the process of the tidy up is to put things into plastic Ikea boxes (or samla in Ikean). As I was putting them in I realised that I had never imported some CDs onto my computer.

[The links are to the You Tube video of the mentioned song for you to hear and remember. I haven't listened to them much past the opening bars. Hope there's no effing, jeffing or inappropriate content.]

Ever keen to right the wrong of BBMak et al not making onto iTunes I set to and spent a happy 6 hours importing and playing tunes from days gone by. I tweeted about it too, mentioned the fact that I was putting on the hits from Nows 29-35 that had previously been overlooked. Needless to say some tracks didn't make it; my iTunes knows of no such artist as Michelle Gayle for instance. But my goodness there were some classics on those Now albums, such as Corona, Rhythm of the Night, The Boo Radleys, Wake Up Boo! (Did they have another hit?), Ini Kamoze, Here Comes the Hotstepper (same question applies), Supergrass, Alright, The Outhere Brothers, Boom Boom. Need I go on?

I found two Brit albums (1997 and 1999 - Billie Myers, Kiss the Rain, Alisha's Attic I Am, I Feel were both nominated. Who knew?!) Mind you, even with those discoveries the only Manic my iTunes knows is of the Monday variety for the Street Preachers will never be on any iPod of mine.

Other CDs I imported were Surrender from Autumn Soul Tour all those years ago (I don't know why, I can still remember singing Better is One Day in parts), Tunes from the Toons (what? It's for the kids!), Cast (bit of Britpop never hurt anyone. Well except possibly the Gallagher brothers) and Travis (for when I want to be depressed). Soundtracks were not ignored anymore, and happily imported is The Thomas Crown Affair, Sister Act, Shrek and Pretty Woman. Good times.

Then I came to the singles box. Oh dear.

It didn't start off well for me with singles. The very first one I ever bought was Boyzone, Love Me for a Reason. Actually, it didn't start of well for albums either, that purchase was Wet Wet Wet, Picture This, no tracks off which got imported during this discovery. Says it all I think. Thankfully it picked up for the firsts, iTunes reveals the first song I ever downloaded, way back in 2005, was Arcade Fire, Rebellion. I get some cool points for that one, right?

Anyway, CD singles. Making on this time I added some classics. Ahem. Who remembers Smashing Pumpkins, Tonight, Tonight? Me, I do! Great strings, shame about the singing. And Fool's Garden, Lemon Tree. Ah the memories of listening to that on my mini hi-fi.

In the box alongside the modern CDs were tapes. Yes, actual cassette tapes offof the eighties. Except I bought them in the late nineties, early noughties. I couldn't play them to listen to them on my computer. I'm sure there's a device I could get on a Sky Mall-esque magazine but no need because the interwebs has reminded me of all I needed. For your musical enjoyment and laughter here are the songs that I bought. With actual money. I haven't heard of any them since.

[Some of the videos won't embed but you can still click through to hear them.]

'It's all about the money. It's all about the dum dum de de de dum'. Apparently those are the lyrics that made Ivor Novello start the awards.

I can only assume, from watching this video, they were some sort of Hanson wannabes.

A bus and a train you say? 'Eighteen wheeler' is probably too hard to fit into a line.

I really don't know what's going on with the flames in this video.

Other cassettes I had from this era included these greats. Sorry.

99 pence?! What a bargain for a piece of chart history.

Again, sorry everyone. I helped it stay at number one.

What was I thinking?!

I will not apologise for this one though.

This is like a badge of honour for any teenage girl growing up in the nineties.

No, it was meant as a compliment and I shall take it in that spirit. You can see why I'm having a hard time though.

My original bucket list

2011-09-01T15:53:00.000+01:00

Tonight during the big tidy up I found my original bucket list. I wrote it coming home on the bus from Derry during my undergrad. I can remember doing it quite clearly. Well I say that, I can't actually remember when I wrote it during those three years. Some of the things make me think I wrote it after working in summer camp in 2001, or maybe after TOM in 2002, but by then I had done some of the things on the list, so I'm not sure. Unless I did it in an add-it-to-my-to-do-list-and-tick-it-off-because-I've-already-done-it kind of way. Oh come on, I'm not the only person does that, right?!

But I do remember coming into Belfast along the M2, you the bit that swoops down (I think it might be called Greencastle) and finishing it off. So 'clearly' is defined as 'sketchy on some details' for the purposes of this post.

Of course, I didn't know it was called a bucket list back when I wrote it. I went with the much duller but, I like to think, adequately descriptive 'things I want to do'. I don't know when I last had it, but I had ticked some things off and it was nice tonight to see what else I had done.

So let's review, shall we?

- Live and work in another country. Check. (I might have mentioned it on here.)
- Travel around the world. Check. (See above.)
- Ride on an elephant. Check. (I don't know why this was an ambition. Nice to say I've done it now though.)
- Go to Disney World. (I'm pretty sure I mean the FL one. Not that I've been to the Paris one for that matter.)
- Walk on Sydney Harbour Bridge. Check. (That was a long held ambition of mine.)
- Paint a picture. (I know I mean a nice one, that you could put up in the house - other than the fridge door.)
- Paddle in Lake Ontario. (This puts it after camp, for it is my missing Great Lake.)
- See a giraffe. (Pretty sure I mean in the wild as opposed to the zoo.)
- Visit the Taj Mahal. (Not sure why, just 'cause.)
- Go to the Great Wall of China. (Probably because you can 'see' it from space.)
- St. Petersberg. (Always liked a bit of Russian history, me.)
- Hong Kong. Check. (The handover in 1997 fascinated me.)
- Robbin Island. (I once did a project on Nelson Mandela in school.)
- Mount Everest. (It's like I'd seen the film. Fairly sure I had no plans on climbing it, just wanted to say I'd seen it.)
- Rio de Janeiro. Check. (It was the big Jesus I wanted to see.)
- See the White House. Check. (Did this in 2001 and thus immediately checked off?)
- See Niagara Falls. Check. (Went in 2002. Still have the Maid of Mist poncho. Naturally.)
- Make a pot on a wheel. (I think this one got added in because most of the things were travel-based.)

I'm sure there's things I'd like to add to it. A few years ago Karen Marathon wrote a really great list of 57 things she'd like to do and I'd definitely nick a few of hers. Like climbing Kilimanjaro, not looking at the time for an entire day or cooking a Sunday roast (my cooking is definitely improving although not at a roast stage yet).

That said, (circa) ten years later I'm 8/18 my original list. Not too bad, not too bad at all. Shame most of the other things require a serious amount of money or I'd be right on to them.

Might get out my watercolours tomorrow though. Chalk another one off.

Four videos and a rant

2011-08-31T22:47:00.004+01:00

I'll warn you right now, this post is a bit of a mix. And I'm still deciding how much of my hoarding I want to share while weighing up how bored you might get of all my reminiscing. But that's not important right now.

[Sorry the videos cut across the side bar. Hope it doesn't impede your viewing too much. And sorry the first one starts straight away. Good job they all don't. That would be video carnage.]

Video 1
So first things first, a funny cat video. Who doesn't love a funny cat video?! Not me, that's for sure. Please enjoy this offering from The Telegraph. I particularly enjoyed seeing Simba himself as a walk on extra in this one.

Video 2 and a rant
Seondly, I can't not make mention of the World Athletics Championships. You know me, I like a bit of athletics and I love the BBC which is why I was disappointed to discover than Channel 4 won the rights to the IAAF Championships. Gutted actually. I went from being excited about the Championships to, well, not. And with some justification as this second video shows, the anchorman just wasn't up to it. I think this is all from the first day and in fairness, he did get a bit better before he was 'demoted' yesterday (and by demoted I mean axed). However, asking Michael Johnson if he's ever tried the pole vault probably isn't the best line of questioning without having some indication of a cracker anecdote he has.

Anyway, try to watch it without cringing.

It makes me appreciate Sue Barker and the master, John Inverdale, all the more.

So now that they've lost Ortis, why is it so terrible? Well there's the adverts. I know that how the BBC works is from the licence fee and how the others work is from money from adverts. But really? Back from a break and one 400m race and back to adverts? And so help me if I see that Clio advert one more time...

And I miss Phil Jones trackside. The woman C4 have isn't very good, a bit patronising and probably because of the rush to ads, comes across abrupt with the athletes. I miss Steve Cram too. He sees things the average viewer or indeed, the camera missed.

There have been a few good things about the coverage. We don't get the little hamster, Colin Jackson, nodding along to everything Michael Johnson says (but happily still get Michael Johnson). Neither is Denise Lewis there to add in cliches. Katherine Merry is very good and Dean Macey is brilliant at the field events, mostly because of his excitement! And he called the 110m hurdles right (the tangle and why Lui Xiang hit the last hurdle) immediately afterwards which C4's actual commentator didn't see apparently. Well, can't blame him, it all happens in 13 seconds. However, keeping an eye on the two British athletes you'd think would be key for the British broadcaster of the Championships. Not so much though, as we got told 'Andy Turner finished some way down the field'. He didn't, he finished fourth and then got promoted to 3rd when Robles was disqualified. That said, Dean Macey's grammar isn't great, sorry I mean cracks me up, but I shouldn't complain. Not just anyone can do TV you know, as poor Ortis showed.

Video 3
Thirdly, a video from UTV (for which you have 23 more days to enjoy). I'm not a UTV kinda girl (see above re. BBC) but Nicky told me to watch this video. I did and I wasn't disappointed. It's pun-tastic just the way local news should be.

I imagine there was a lot of high fiving with the cameraman when he came up with another cow pun to include. And I particularly enjoyed the job title of 'Cow Rescue Specialist'. Apparently it's five more rescues til he gets 'Expert' status.

Video 4
Like I said, I like BBC and BBC Newsline is no exception. Donna, Noel, Jackie, they're like family to me now. Not to be outdone by their rivals they had their own animal interest story about an abandoned donkey with hooves that had grown into elf feet (I don't think that's the technical term).

I encountered donkey neglect during my Methodist publication research last year (blog posts here, here and here) because the Irish Christian Advocate used to have an advert from the USPCA or some such about it with this photo.

The advert appeared with amazing regularity.

I'd take a few Florida Apartment or Flower Show ads any day over a Donkey Elf Feet picture.

Anyway, back to the report. Because it's the BBC I can't embed the video but the link is here. Do please enjoy it. My own highlights are:
- his name. I've said it before, animals shouldn't have human names. Johnny the donkey? Are you kidding me? The report also mentions Brian the donkey. I promise I'm not making this up.
-the 'photographer lady knowing the feet weren't right'. When you see the video I think you'll agree she is the winner of today's No Shit Sherlock Award. Congratulations to you, Photographer Lady.
- the fact that a few years ago it was 'chic' to own a donkey. Seriously? Not quite a chihuahua in a handbag, is it?

If you didn't see it live, you'll also have missed the reporter holding Johnny's cut hoof like it was the most normal thing in the world. Put me right off my Milky Bar dessert I can tell you.

Post match analysis

2011-08-30T15:45:00.000+01:00

TinaLostInSpace took a small break last week, ok for most of last week. I'm back on task now though. I'm sure you're delighted. Most of the roof space is tidied and stuff has gone back in (I still need to do a few blog posts about other great finds) and I must be getting into it because I've started into the spare bedroom which houses everything from NC, Singapore and since. It was also in a pretty dire state. Sure, things were in boxes, largely according to time frame and genre but there was so much in there that you couldn't easily get to anything let alone find it. I think I just came home, piled the stuff in the room and closed the door.

Anyway, the purpose of this post was to write about the weekend. It started with Mexican food and ended with watching about five episodes of Mad Men! And in between David's birthday present finally came...international rugby at Lansdowne Road, sorry the Aviva. Whatever.

So, Ireland were playing England in their last warm-up match before the World Cup. And it seems they could have done with a little bit more time to warm-up. But they're off now to New Zealand. One hopes they get it together there instead.

The match started in the customary manner with the anthems. There was a lot of flag waving.

Oi! Get yo' flag out of my face. Ra ra Ireland though.

Things didn't get off to a good start for Ireland.

At half time we (and by 'we' I mean me) messed about taking photos. This one was the best.

Happy birthday brother!

In the second half things didn't get much better for Ireland. Or any better at all. In fact, things got worse.

That's the one that hit the post. Dammit.

It seems I have taken a photo of Jonny Wilkinson's butt.

There had been a bit of drizzle during the game, it was nothing us hardened rugby fans couldn't take. At about sixty minutes the heavens opened. Like full on downpour. I know it was at sixty minutes because I remember thinking we'd only have twenty minutes to endure of the rain.

I didn't have wet look leggings on, I had the real deal.

I can't really explain how heavy the shower was. At one point David asked whether there was someone behind us with a bucket of water. That was a not altogether unreasonable question.

My seat mates all left. They're not hardcore like us, you see.

Here's a little known fact stadium architecture fans: that roof is painted on.

What's that you say, push the button halfway down to focus? That was nearly a super photo. Nearly.

At home I watched the highlights of the match and was excited to see that made it to the TV.

It is us. Honestly.

So Ireland lost, but I'm still chalking the day up to a success. I didn't run down the street to get a free condom. Not that I would do that ever. Ok, once, once I did that. Shut up.

Today, tonight, tomorrow and yesterday

2011-08-23T00:03:00.001+01:00

My road trip down memory lane continues. Excitingly, tonight I put my first boxes back in the roof space - a box of hard back books and a box of paper backs. There are some more boxes more or less ready to go back in, but I'm going to need more plastic boxes to complete this mission. Which'll mean another trip to Ikea.

Tonight I moved on to the piles of files of school notes that I thought were ready to be boxed only to discover that they were actually of notes I didn't want to keep that should have gone to the dump at the weekend. Oopsy. But in amongst them I found gold! An essay given to me by my Form 3 Chemistry teacher.

I know, essays in Chemistry in Form 3? But it may surprise you to learn that is was a punishment essay! At this point I feel the need to tell you that I never had so much as a lunchtime detention in school so it even surprised me that I had a punishment essay. Then as I read it, it all came back to me. I think the story was that we were supposed to finish off a drawing of apparatus at home for the next class, but it was one of those times when the teacher said it quickly at the end of class (because he'd planned more work than we'd actually done) and only a few people heard him. I was one of the ones that didn't and thus, I was given a punishment essay. Oh the shame. I think I even had a moral dilemma when I got home as to whether or not to tell my mum about it (and I have a feeling, after David's reassurances that she'd never know about it, I didn't.)

If you went to BHS you'll probably already have guessed the teacher in question. But for everyone else, he's best summed up by his nickname, Killer. And not without merit (well, not actual merit, I don't believe he ever killed anyone). The essay we were given was 'Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow'.

This sort of thing was just up his street. He liked to give pointless essays. It was frowned upon even in those days, but Killer didn't care. He was the man who would spend three-quarters of a double period talking about cricket, school, life, anything at all really before realising we wouldn't have time for the experiment and he'd just tell us what we would have seen happen. I remember one question he often used to ask to class (rhetorically I might add) was 'if there was a rocket out there on that cricket pitch who would get on it?'. To be honest, it's a miracle I ever passed Chemistry.

[I mentioned Killer once before on here before, for his other famous attribute: his handlebar moustache. For balance, I should also point out, he was one of the nicest teachers to me when I was back there as a student teacher.]

Anyway, all that is by way of introduction to my one side 'essay'. Remember, the game was to say it in more words than necessary to get to one side quicker.

Today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow
'Today' is very difficult to communicate. The dictionary describes it as 'this present day' ie that day that is actually happening now. The word is sometimes used in a broader sense to mean 'nowadays' or 'these days' or even 'modern times'. But in its general form of meaning 'this present day' it is a reminder to us of how time passes. 'Here today and gone tomorrow' is a well known saying which again shows us how important to use your time each day to your best advantage. If you don't take the opportunity that today offers, you may not get that chance again. The circumstances can change, the same situation may not come again.

'Tomorrow' in its broadest sense means 'in the near future' but is usually taken to mean 'the day after today'. The expression 'tomorrow never comes' is often heard. It suggests that the things left 'tomorrow' never get done. I have the opportunity to do something today, but by the time the next day arrives, I may not have as good an opportunity, and by that time the chance has passed by into 'yesterday'.

Yesterday I could have completed a chart and didn't, thinking that tomorrow would do. But when tomorrow arrived it was already too late and now I have to write about today and tomorrow tonight. Now if I'd had to write about 'tonight' or 'yesterday' I could have used the words of a song or two!

Now, is it just me or does that essay finish much the same way as the majority of my blog posts, a sort of attempted witty summary sentence to round things up?

It seems that ending my blogs like this was written in the stars.

Or at least in the stupid punishment essay.

(Did it again there, didn't I?)

Old glasses parade

2011-08-21T16:11:00.000+01:00

"Oh you know Tina...tall with glasses".

I know this is probably how people describe me. And why not? Both those things are true, afterall.

I've worn glasses since I was in about P4 or 5. I remember coming downstairs from reading and telling my mum my eyes were stingy. Ever the good parent she took me to the optician and I got my first pair of glasses. A nice blue plastic pair.

In the early years I didn't wear my glasses all the time, just for 'reading, the blackboard and television' so there are hardly any photos of me with those early glasses on. Once I reached secondary school, I started to wear them all the time. I can't remember if I was told to or I couldn't be bothered with the on-off routine anymore.

This week I've come across quite a few old pairs and I knew I would have to put them on here. But there's a danger in doing that. So I put them in a movie to limit that. I'm all for laughing at my old glasses, but let's laugh together folks!

I've also come up with a few terms and conditions of watching the movie.

By watching this video you promise that:

1. You will not take any images from this movie

2. You will not use this movie or any images contained within it to embarrass me.

3. You will not print any images used in the movie for any purpose.

Don't think I won't hunt you down if you break these rules!

That said, if you can agree to these three points, by all means click play. Enjoy!

Can I get my diary badge now?

2011-08-18T16:46:00.003+01:00

I never kept a diary. Or so I thought.

The great roof space clear out of 2011 reveals that for three years I did attempt to write a diary. I think this was mostly because for Christmas 1988, 1989 and 1990 (I was P4, P5, P6 and P7 during these years) I got the Brownie Guide diary.

It wasn't your typical 'Dear Diary' sort of diary. More a diary your keep appointments in. What appointments a Brownie is supposed to have, I don't know but that's neither here nor there at this point.

At the beginning of each one was about twenty pages of 'activities'. 1989's was the only one I attempted to complete. Perhaps the work I did indicates why I never completed any other pages.

I see I let my imagination run wild with how Brownies might look in 2014.

Not so much an 'interesting clock' as 'just a clock'.

Now, I'll say write from the start I wasn't very good at writing often in my diary, illustrated by the fact the first actual entry in 1989 comes in March.

It seems nothing diary-worthy happened until the big news of red nose Day and the fact that my best friend Laura might come up to my house on Saturday. Not sure what exactly I've drawn there on Wednesday. Some sort of hammer handed man by the looks of it.

I wrote down family birthdays and my own, of course.

Good spelling. And ever the child royalist it's good I was celebrating the Duke and Duchess of York's third wedding anniversary.

That's all the big events of 1989! 1990 started off better with the first recording coming in January:

Wednesday 3rd January

Today is the last day of the holidays

WE started Ink today

Wednesday 24 January
We had snow today (it was fulley)
(I can only assume I meant fluffy.)

Thursday 25 January
I had sore legs

Friday 26 January
I was off with sore legs

Saturday 27 January
Went to carrickfegus got mini piona and play clay
(and by 'piona' I mean piano. All the right letters, just not necessarily in the right order. I think I got these because I hadn't been well.)

Wednesday 7 February
Laura said she liked heavy metal and it could only be played loud
We had miss beaston
(Laura and I were forever falling out. I think we fell out over this because I knew she didn't really like heavy metal. No clue on Miss Beaston. A sub? Great name though.)

Thursday 8 February
We had her again

Friday 9 February
and again

Sunday 11 February
Nelson Mandela was freed from jail after 30 years in prison

Wednesday 14 February
We gave Allister L cards for a joke
everyone went woooo

Tuesday 27 February
I had 3 big big pancakes

Thursday 1 March

we had icy snowy stuff

I did not sleep a wink

went to docters

Friday 2 March

I was off school

I went to docs

wee bit about 7-8 hours sleep

Sunday 4 March
fourth rail bridge 100th birthday
(Must have been on Blue Peter.)

Tuesday 13 March
We had Mr Gray
He shouted at me cause I was talking to Laura

Wednesday 14 March
We had Mrs Powers (uuuh)

Thursday 15 March
A junalist was hanged because he was thouted to be a spy.
(I really did always like current affairs. Spelling and grammar, not so much.)

Friday 23 March
Mum went to a course

Sunday 25 March
She came back

Monday 26 March
I counted how many words I have in my English book 2
I have 2808

That's where 1990 ended. I must have known myself I had reached a low point in my diary keeping.

Christmas 1990 brought a new Brownie Guide diary and a new attempt to document my life. Well I say that, but the first entry doesn't come until March. Again it was Red Nose Day that prompted me.

Friday 15 March
Red nose day 3
THE STONKE
7.25pm - 2.30am
Saw 7.25pm - 11.00
(I don't know why I thought it was important to write down my viewing hours.)

Wednesday 24 April
I was in the play
I played a nurse and the recorder
Miss Cathcart came to the play (student teacher)
(I have no memory of this, except getting my hair cut that afternoon (in Hair We Are, Whiteheaders!))

Those were the highlights of P6 it seems. There wasn't anything else until my birthday. Now, two years later would I be able to spell it right?

My Birthday
Very inporten
(Oh you had to push it Tina.)

It's perhaps no surprise that I returned to my diary in September to mark another big event.

Saturday 14 September
Space shuttle Discovery at these times:
20.56
22.37
12.11 (and will be flying for the next 3 days)

Sunday 15 September
I saw it
all excited
It saw it 12.30-12.35
I saw a green flashing light shaped like a pepsi or coke bottle
(Yeah, it was either that or the flight coming in from Heathrow that night was delayed.)

Friday 11 October
I did the 11+ today. It was o.k

Thursday 17 October
Todd Landers left for Adulade and Neighbours
(Really Tina? Neighbours updates?)

Sunday 20 October
I became a vetation today
Nobody thinks I will keep it but I will.
We got our caps and stuff taken off us because of Keith
(The problems came from not liking vegetables. Or vetables. And I don't know what Keith did, but Hallow'een was a big deal for us - we'd make bangers and sparkler bombs. Actually, maybe our caps being confiscated why I still have functioning eyes and ears?)

Monday 21 October
Kerry was shot in Neighbours

Tuesday 22 October
It was confirmed that she was dead

Friday 25 October
Todd was in Cody's house
he ran away
(Slow news week, eh Tina?)

Saturday 26 October
Karen and I had a mini mini game of hockey 4-1 to her
(Karen of marathon and photography fame.)

Sunday 27 October
They knocked down the front of the Post Office. I'll never forget it. People are wiping out the history.
(I was absolutely incredulous at this. I even detailed how the 'old' Post Office looked.)

Saturday 2 November
Australia won the Rugby world cup 12-6 at twictaham
Mum went to Eire
('twictaham', bless. But seriously Tina? You referred to it as Eire? Also a point to note: dad went away for work a lot so that never registered with me and my diary.)

Monday 18 November
Mummy's birthday
Terry Waite was freed after 1763 days in captivity

Monday 25 November
Freddie Mercury of Queen (rock band) died last night just 24 hours before he announced he had Aids
He knew beforehand
(I loved Queen when I was little, well David liked them so so did I. I remember being quite stunned at this, that it was all quite sudden. He was sick and then, bam: he died. A fact reflected in this entry, I needed to know that he knew he had been sick, that it wasn't just as sudden to him as it was to me.)

Saturday 28 December
Mum had a house warming party, it ended at 1.30 Sunday.
(This party was legendary in the Park for years after. I don't know why, I don't think anyone got drunk. It was probably the last time anything 'community' ever happened in our street. Unless they've all been having parties without us?)

Tuesday 31 December
New Year's Eve went swimming with Laura

I love that they are just a junior version of me now, with the interest in big events and things that I do. They're like a very early version of my blog! What's really surprising is that I checked the dates of the news stories I wrote about and they're all right! Even the number of days Terry Waite was held for is right. Must have been my historian genes shining through.

I thought that was it for my diary until I came across a 'poem' right at the end I think I must have written. I hated poetry in school but it probably does sum up my feelings pretty well on the 11+.

When Lineker is scoring goals
And Faldo is putting on the green
When Moorhouse is in the pool
And Christie is training
What am I doing?

All for 200 misely questions
All for 1h 40 min work
All for grades 1 or 2 or 3 or 4
That's what I'm doing

Profound Tina.

Just wish I could say the same for the Neighbours entries.

Lost in space

2011-08-15T23:16:00.003+01:00

Well fresh from getting over how long my legs are (I worked out what caused the revelation of my leg length; it's because you can't see my hips in that photo.) I started the task that I have been long threatening to start, like since last 2008: tidying my eaves. Oh dear goodness.

When my parents got our roof space converted for our bedrooms the pitch of the roof gave us space beside our rooms so David and I had space to store things. You'd think that'd be a good thing. Nope, turned out it was a bad thing, as it appears that since c.1992 I have thrown nothing away. Nothing.

This is what my eaves looked like. Dump. Highlights in this photo include my French files, Wallace and Gromit clock, squash racket (I never even played squash!), first year art box, Tufty Top cycling helmet box and a book on Princess Diana.

The things I found ended up being so ridiculous I started tweeting them under #TinaLostinSpace. But even at that, I couldn't tweet everything because I'm sure I would be unfollowed by people. So instead I am turning to my blog to write about the things I found. Such treasures they are.

That's right, that's Jimmy 'Jim'll Fix It' Saville's autograph there. He spelt my name Teena. I shouldn't think that's cool, but it kind of is.

It goes with this picture. So many things going on in that picture. The kilt. The stick. The glasses. The thumbs up. The bracelet. His expression. Our expressions. He actually makes us look good.

There was also a little store of our Primary School magazine, The Seagull. I took photos of the work I had published.

I had to send this to Jill. Goodness, it would bring a tear to your eye. Well, except for that bit about my fragility, that's just funny.

That is some neat handwriting for a P3! It must have been that which got it in the magazine. Goodness knows it wasn't the drawing of the combine harvester.

'I promise to do my best, to do my duty to God, to serve the Queen and to help other people and to keep the Brownie Guide Law.'

Once a good Methodist, always a good Methodist.

Nearly complete too. If you happen to have 5, 6 and 122 I'd be most grateful. Also found my World Cup stickers. I was big into stickers.

Remember the days of song sheets for Mannafest? Also found the song book for Summer Madness 1995 and 1996. Shut up, there were no data projectors back then.

Just incase you're curious as to who spoke when.

That's right, that's the original Toy Story. I had a thing about cinema tickets, I used to put them on my wall. I also found tickets for Goldeneye, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, Apollo 13, Twister and practically any other film that came out in 1995-96.

I fully expect to find every edition of Sugar and Bliss I ever bought.

A poster from Bliss. I wasn't that fond of him actually. Still it's good I saved it all these years.

This guy was on the other side. I have no idea who he is. I even looked at his Wikipedia and I'm still none the wiser.

This was in my Methody box of memories. This was in their early days (2002). In another box I also found a flyer for Halcyon Days at Summer Madness. I don't think I went. Again, good I kept it though.

Still to come: excerpts from my diaries 1989-91 and my old glasses. Oh glory.

Tina Long Legs

2011-08-11T23:51:00.012+01:00

I got a birthday present in the post today - a lovely book of skiing photos and memories from Megann. It's a really great present and one that I'll enjoy looking at again and again.

It ended with a really great montage page of us on various different slopes and Megann wrote:

No matter of we are breezing down greens or struggling down blacks, repeating favourite runs or getting lost on a new side of the mountain, skiing in five layers or getting a tan on the slopes, we never want this run to be our final run or this year to be our last!

I couldn't have said it any better.

Anyway, aside from that there was one picture which made me look twice.

Me in downtown Denver our first year there. (I'm leaning on the cowboy's saddle.)

Why'd it make me look twice? Well, it made me realise that I do have quite long legs. I know, I'm 5'10 (ish). I don't know how I didn't realise before.

Travels with my mother (part 2)

2011-08-09T23:09:00.001+01:00

I don't know, you wait years for a mother-daughter trip and then two come along at once. This trip was inspired by last year's Wimbledon trip. Mum has watched Wimbledon forever, well she doesn't remember Fred Perry or nowt, but a few years anyway. So this year it was my great pleasure to announce that once again I had tickets and mum was in! Way to score Daughter Points, Tina!

So at the end of June we were off. In order to make it a real trip we, of course, scheduled a trip to the theatre. Mum wanted to see Billy Elliot. Happy with my points from obtaining tickets, I vetoed it. We settled instead on Pygmalion. Sure the dancing and songs aren't as good, but the acting and the writing?! Tip top. Rupert Everett and Kara Tointon were in it, and they were ace. I tweeted afterwards that it reminded me of being in Mrs. Brown's English Lit class only with better actors. Actually, I can't be absolutely sure we ever acted it out, all I remember from Mrs. Brown's English class is her furiously writing notes on the blackboard, us geeks at the front writing them down and girls at the back asking if we had any magazines to read. Active learning my ass.

The next day we were off to SW19. It was men's quarterfinals day. On Centre Roger Federer was playing against Jo-Wilfred Tsonga and then Andy Murray against Feliciano Lopez. If you know my tennis preferences at all, you'll know I'm not greatly fond of Federer. He seems a nice enough man, sure. Til there's a record to be beaten and out he comes with his specially made jacket with his big RF all over it to wear for the presentation. What a big head! You also might know that I love Rafa Nadal. A lot. But that's not important for this story, he was playing on Court 1.

We went to the same entrance that Ruth and I used last year so Mum could see what it's like courtside.

This man appeared through the door. I don't think he plays on the tour.

Then we hung around the Press Centre. Right beside Roger was warming up.

You can imagine my excitement.

Martina Navratilova and Jana Novotna were playing on Court 18 and so we waited for them to walk past. While we waited I got talking to a man in a shirt and tie. Throughout the course of our conversation it emerged he worked for the ATP as an announcer and used to umpire matches (including some of Navratilova's wins at Wimbledon and Stefan Edberg's win in the 1980s). He was a super nice man and we had a lovely chat.

All the while we were waiting there was a young fella walking around. Only later that evening we realised it was future British star Liam Broady. Should have taken a picture of him. But he hadn't beaten the world number 1 at that point!

Honestly, you hang around for twenty minutes and then a stupid woman with a ponytail walks infront of your photo of Martina and Jana. I'm shaking my fist at you Ponytail Lady!

Before too long we were back to Centre Court, ready for play to start.

The royal box was getting full. It was exciting to get texts from Ruth watching at home, telling us who to look out for. Such celebs as Amanda Holden, Les Ferdinand, Greg Norman, Lewis Hamilton Michael Caine, and Sir Cliff. Then the exciting news came through that Pippa Middleton was there! It quickly became apparent she wasn't in the royal box, but with only a red dress to go on it took a while to find her. But find her I did!

I lent her that red dress.

Oh yes. There was tennis too. We didn't have a spectator meeting beforehand or anything, but there was definitely a feeling that the big match that day was going to be the Murray match. Well no one told Tsonga that. After coming out and losing his first service game and the first two sets he woke up. Bam. It was a brilliant match, and not just because he was beating Federer.

Please enjoy this video of match point. Whooping, hollering and shaky camera work included. But look at his little victory dance. Bless.

Like I said, no one really expected it to be as good a match as it was. Or that it would go to five sets. By the time Murray came on, there the court was about two-thirds full. I, myself, went out during the first set. After some crap directions to the bathrooms from an employee I chanced upon this view of Henman Hill.

Bunged.

Murray made short work of Lopez and was soon walking off, safely through to the semis.

He passed by our old seats. Still, I'd have Rafa's autograph any day over Murray's. No offence, like.

To finish the day off with we had some doubles. Todd Woodbridge and Jonas Bjorkman against Cedric Pioline and Barry Cowan. Yes, no I'd never heard of him either. Apparently he was a doubles player back in the day.

Boom.

And so that was that.

A good day was had by all.

Except for possibly my mother, who got food poisoning from something that day. Though she'd probably prefer if I didn't tell that story I will say it's miserable to be that sick away from home.

The next day I went into London town by myself. I had about two hours to walk around. But I consider it quite successful as I found my dress for graduation (in about 5 minutes, I thank you), saw the Olympics countdown clock, bought a Krispy Kreme doughnut, and went to Covent Garden.

In Covent Garden Tube Station I just about lost it with a woman. I couldn't get through the barriers because my Oyster card needed more money on it. It had started to rain and the tiniest Tube Station in the world became rammed. I fought my way back to the window (the one window) and queued. Imagine my joy when the woman in front of me wanted to have discussion about how best to get her group of 17 to wherever and what sort of ticket was best to buy. I bit my tongue and said nothing.

However, when it came to paying I could not remain silent when she turned to the group of 17, scattered throughout the station (which was rammed, remember) and asked that each person bring her £1.50 to pay for their ticket. I might have told her that wasn't the best way to do things. She might have replied that she had no choice. Then I might have replied and said with great exasperation 'This is London'.

Two days in London and I became a huffy Londoner. Well, when in Rome...

Travels with my mother (part 1)

2011-08-03T15:07:00.001+01:00

I had the (somewhat) recent fortune to take two trips with my mother. Everyone should travel with their mother. It's an experience. On these trips I learnt my mum would travel practically nowhere. Not that she doesn't have a sense of adventure, it just needs to be coaxed out of her. Thank goodness for Take That and Wimbledon then.

Take That
I've never been a massive Take That fan. Sure, I like them, but I'm not obsessive over them. I didn't really like any of their songs when I was a teenager, until Back For Good. I remember watching the video for that on The Chart Show (remember The Chart Show?) And I liked Never Forget, but then Robbie left, and they did that awful How Deep is Your Love cover (to be fair any cover of that song would be terrible, as it is a terrible song) and it all went pear shaped.

I wasn't here when the documentary came out that got them back together as a four. Likewise, when their first new singles were coming out I was in Singapore, so I really did miss the hype and what not. I liked The Circus ok, and I saw the show on TV and it looked really great. All the same I wouldn't say I'm a massive fan of them.

Mum likes the new stuff a lot so when the Progress tour was announced I thought it would be a nice Christmas present to get her tickets to go. So on the day they came out I got up early and sat with three computers on the go and got tickets. Like I mentioned before I actually got three sets of tickets because Caroline, who is obsessed with Gary Barlow, didn't realise the tickets for Dublin went on sale at 8.00am, not 9.00am. And then Karen (David's) wrote back to my text from the night previously and said she did want to go, so the two I got for mum and me were sold on and I got three for us. I did feel a bit bad though to hear of diehard fans who didn't get tickets that day and there's me with eight, bought on three separate transactions.

Anyway, eventually June rolled around and we were headed to Dublin. At times Dublin felt like it was taking part in a record attempt for the world's biggest hen party. Feather boas, group outfits, drunk women, you know the deal. We gave ourselves nicknames for our non-existant t-shirts. Mum became Duke of Ed. She had every possible map, timetable and info about the concert. Heck, she even brought packed sandwiches for the way back. Karen is 'Got Your Ticket?' due to an unfortunate lost ticket incident. My name? Well because we were at the back of the stadium I wanted to bring binoculars, you know, so we could see their faces. Too bad we couldn't find them and all we had was this:

A monocular. So I became Nelson.

So what of the concert? Well, of course it was fantastic. Robbie's bit was my favourite. He is such a showman and had the audience in the palm of his hand.

This was during Rock DJ. I enjoyed that one.

I really liked when they showed the crowds in front of them. I bet Robbie thought he'd never play to as many people again.

Quite the set too. Now, are your people involved in 2012? Because that would be a good idea.

Just a short week later I was off travelling with mother again. Honestly, the last mother-daughter trip was c. 1989 to Penzance and now two come along at once.

31st International Tina Day

2011-07-31T10:31:00.004+01:00

While we're still in the prettiest month of the year, I thought I should tell you about the prettiest day of the year - 22nd July.

As I mentioned before, I went to Dublin. But first of all I got to go to the Transport Museum with John and Kiera. Karen and David came too. They won't mind me saying they're less exciting than John and Kiera. John was hilarious, he was in wide eyed wonderment looking at all the trains, buses and cars. And he even had a new mode of transport to learn - the tram. It's tricky to learn the difference between a tram and a bus when you're only two. Kiera was as smiley as she ever is. She likes being wherever her people are.

After the afternoon there, it was straight to pick up Karen and Lynsey and head to Dublin. I've said it before and I'll say it again, there's no finer place to bypass than Newry. I love that road, you don't even have to set eyes on Newry!

After arriving at Chez Jools (and it should be pointed out his directions were tip top) we headed into the city to get dinner and maybe a few cocktails.

Oh we do like a laugh.

The next morning we were up and at 'em. Well not quite. We headed back into to wander, eat and be cultured and I think all three aims were successful for we wandered, ate and became more cultured.

Eating at stop 1 and who should be beside us. Only Lloyd Langford. What?! He's a stand up comedian! I've seen him on the television and everything. You can go here for a You Tube video of him (I can't embed it). He might have seen me take a photo of him. Oopsy. I'm not a very subtle person.

You can just breathe in Dublin and get some culture. Or look at these folks who were filming some sort of music video while pretending to play their instruments.

Some wandering required a pit stop in the park.

Lloyd Langford was in town for the Comedy Festival. We got tickets for Whose Line Is is Anyway? with Steve Frost, Phil Juiptus and Josie 'the legend' Lawrence. My cheeks hurt from laughing.

Afterwards we all went for dinner. Our table was bigger than this photo would make it seem.

So after that, it was time to return north so Karen could work the next day! But suffice to say the 31st International Tina Day was fantastic.

Yet more exam answers

2011-07-30T16:56:00.002+01:00

You'll not be surprised to hear that once again this year there were some cracker exam answers. Honestly, if you've never done exam marking it's hard to explain the joy, the laughter and pure frustration in getting answers like these.

Just plain wrong

Wronger than a wrong thing that's got a special reason to be wrong.

Nationalists grew to like internment.

No, no, they didn't.

By signing the Anglo-German Naval Agreement GB allowed Germany to build up its ships to 35% of theirs. That's how they invaded Poland.

Oh you were doing so well. It was the second sentence that let you down, incase you're interested.

Hitler used his televised speeches to condemn the Weimar government and spread his actions.

Right, your general overview of history is poor. And 'spread his actions'? Actions are not like Nutella. You knew that, right?

Nationalists were angry that the first unionists were not imprisoned until February 1934.

I would have thought they were having too much fun in their time travel machine to be angry.

Civil rights protesters had placards which read 'houses in need' and sang songs like 'We shall not overcome'.

Hardly the right attitude to protest with.

There was a naval base where ships could leave or enter Omagh.

I am going to make it my life's mission to educate students that the counties of Fermanagh and Tyrone are land locked.

Eire did not undergo blackouts. This worried Britain and NI as it meant that Luftwaffe were able to see the position of Belfast and London in relation to neutral Eire.

Bit of a stretch, that.

Collective responsibility is a long time ago convention that means that everything that happens in parliament stays in parliament.

No, see what you're doing there is confusing Parliament and Vegas. And parliament and cabinet for that matter.

Think it through

Double dare you.

Chamberlain asked Hitler twice if he could help Britain out in return for NI.

Right, so let's think about that one again. 'Hitler, help us fight the war against Hitler's Germany...' Yes, see what you did there?

British RAF pilots knew the land they were flying over better than the Luftwaffe pilots so they could take advantage of the airspace.

Right, so land, air, land, air. One you can walk on, one you fly through.

Stresemann had to face difficult problems when Wilhelm formed a new government and made him the Kaiser.

Right, so remember World War One, Germany lost, the Kaiser ran away? NEW government, you said it yourself.

Direct rule meant that the Irish government was taken over and everything was handled by the British government.

Right, so remember 1922, the Free State, 1947 and independence? This all could have been sorted with one word: Northern. It's not what you wrote though, is it?

Violence increased in the summer of 1969 because this is when Britain wanted to unite with NI.

Right, so remember 1922 and NI stayed part of the UK? And the war when NI fought with Britain? Now, put all that together and tell me about 1969 again.

Facebook status syndrome

This is on the rise. I blame the Social Network.

Although people knew how to 'play the stock market' most people where normal Americans who had not got a clue.

You know, they're not the only ones who don't have a clue.

The Provisional IRA was born in December. They believed that violence was the answer to all NI's problems but they hadn't noticed they were actually making it worse.

Well with them being but an infant...

What they believed was wrong and they were blitzed by German planes.

Ah yes, to blitz. I was blitzed, you were blitzed, he was blitzed, we were blitzed, they were blitzed.

Hitler built the western wall around the Rhine to ensure it was never invaded and afterwards stated 'He who dares, wins'.

Rodders.

The Lib Dems practically threw their manifesto out the window to remain in power with the Cons.

Ah the old out the window trick, it's very common in politics.

After the hyperinflation Germany's currency was messed up.

Like, so messed up?

Unionists and nationalists didn't like direct rule because they wanted NI to be its own boss, they thought that it was stupid being ruled by another country.

I think you forgot to write 'lol' at the end of that.

The age of the understatement

Like the last shadow puppets.

Hindenberg appointed Hitler as Chancellor in 1933. Some may say it was a bad decision.

Some? Really? You're trying to sit on the fence with that one?

To be imprisoned for standing for your beliefs is unacceptable in a nationalist view.

Just out of interest, who views it as acceptable?

Dear Examiner

Alas, not actual letters, but there was an increased fear that I wouldn't be able to work out how an answer booklet works. Let me tell you, dear candidate, I didn't get to my lofty position of marking your exam paper without having to turn a page or two.

Here are just some examples.

France? And then what? Don't leave me hanging. Oh wait, this helpful arrow tells me to continue on the opposite page. Phew.

Stresemann? What about him. Oh thank goodness. Now I know that I did indeed need to read what I just read. One continuous sentence you say?!

Well thank goodness you told me. I thought you were done.

Very polite. But I am not an idiot.

You know, the writing on the opposite page was enough to tell me to look over there. I didn't need this arrow, nor did I need it circled. But thanks.

Call that an arrow? Sure I'd hardly notice that.

Good to know. You spell it 'writing' by the way.

No, you're (w)right, you have nothing to apologise for.

Like I might have mentioned before, exam marking is stressful, boring, and pushes you to the edge in ways you thought not possible.

Well there I go again

2011-07-29T11:45:00.001+01:00

You thought you had me and then I disappear again. I didn't even make it here for the 31st International Tina Day. Eek.

I have been meaning to blog, about loads of things actually. And look, now it's CHW week and I haven't. So I'm going to attempt to write a few posts for while I'm away and at the very least get my July blog count upped past one, which, I think anyone would agree, is piss poor.

This past week I travelled was in Dublin. I haven't been in Dublin, like proper Dublin (not counting airports and concert venues) for about 18 months. This week I spent 4 days out of 7 there.

Trip one was for my birthday. I had the super idea after meeting Jools in the airport at Christmas to spend my birthday at his house. Why? Well, birthday roadtrip? I love a roadtrip, I love my birthday! Notch up another location for ITD? I love new locations for ITD! Have super fun with friends? I love having super fun with friends. Win. Win. Win.

Trips two and three were for meetings. They're not wildly exciting for blogging. For the first one I got the train down. Like Julia Roberts would say, big mistake, huge. My two hour meeting took 12 hours of my day. Mostly because it took two and half hours to get home from Lisburn. Got to love Translink.

Aside from delays, it was a hateful journey home for another reason. Mostly because of the man sitting beside me. On the way down I had a smoker sitting opposite me. Bad. The way back was much worse. In fact, I was moved to writing this letter to the man. I didn't actually give it to him, but he might have seen my phone screen at one point. Oopsy.

Dear man sitting next to me on the 16.50 Enterprise from Dublin whose leg has been annoying me for the past hour,

You haven't travelled on public transport much, have you? I have some experience so let me pass on some of my knowledge: if you were to move your bag to the overhead shelf you'd be able to move you leg away from mine. This would also solve the problem of your foot being practically on top of my handbag.

No offense like, but, you see, I'd prefer if our legs weren't touching. I don't know you and I'm a personal bubble kinda gal with new people.

Every time I move away from you, you then take that as as invitation to fill the gap. In a while I'll be stuck to the window like Spidy himself. I wouldn't even mind your complete dominance of the arm rest if you could just ensure our thighs were independent from one another.

Kind regards and happy future travelling,
Tina

Touching, touching. I can get mad because you're touching.

How long have I been away?

2011-07-17T00:45:00.013+01:00

I thought it was only a couple of weeks but I came back on here tonight (at Jud's insistence, poor girl is in Ibiza with nothing to do but to read my blog apparently) and Blogger is all different. Honestly six years on here and it's hardly changed but tonight when I came on...bam! I didn't know what I was looking at. I couldn't find my dashboard, when I found that I couldn't see where to press to get a new blog. Heck, I even had to pause the DVD so I could concentrate on it. Even now I'm sitting open mouthed at the changes. Sorry if you don't blog and this means nothing to you, but it really is different. I feel like an emigrant arriving back to the old country to find there's a motorway through your father's farmland. It's the same, but it's so not the same.

Anyway, yes three weeks I've been away and 'where have you been?' I hear you cry. Well let me tell you:
1. I marked exam papers.
2. I went to Wimbledon. Yes again! I know!
3. I marked more exam papers.
4. I graduated.
5. I marked even more exam papers.
6. I met up with Clare and the girls from Singapore. Not in Singapore you understand.
7. I marked yet more exam papers.
8. I watched The Kennedys.
9. Yes, you guessed it, I marked more bloody exam papers.
10. I got sucked in and watched some golf. What the what?!

So I think we can skip on past the dullness that is exam papers, until the now annual exam answers post. And Wimbledon will probably be a post on its own, so we'll start at point 4, graduating.

Graduation
Good times. It seems a lifetime ago I graduated with my undergrad and as Queen's robbed us of a graduation for our PGCE, so I enjoyed this one. It was nice to see the girls who were on the course with me, especially after the lonely year of dissertation writing. James Nesbitt was the honourary grad at my BA and it's good to see he's traded that in to become Chancellor of the University now. I, along with every other graduate, got to shake his hand as we walked in front of the stage. After the Arts PhDs, I was the sixth person and I desperately thought of something witty to say in my 0.5 seconds, but instead settled for 'Thank you. Thank you very much' which might have made me sound a bit Elvis. Excellent.

We had front row seats, it gave an opportunity to take a few surreptitious photos. Yes, I'm sure Jimmy didn't notice me at all.

At the end of the ceremony, we got our Bucks Fizz and so happened to be at the door where our dear Chancellor emerged. To scared to ask for a photo, we (oh yes, more than just me) settled for this instead.

That's me and my friend Jimmy there. He just had to step away for a minute.

Our honorary grad was the Director of Amnesty International UK, Kate Allen and the actress Susan Lynch. Kate Allen made a very nice speech and was clearly there to please the academics, Susan Lynch...well she said thank you and that was about it. Awkward. (Turns out Susan Lynch plays James Nesbitt's wife in Monroe. Wonder who suggested her for this award then?)

A big change I noticed since undergrad was in the hat throwing rules. I think it was the first or second year of the hats when I graduated first time, and it was forbidden to do any sort of American movie style throwing of the hats. Not now. In fact I saw one official photographer expressly ask for it from a group of graduates. If you can't bet 'em, join 'em eh?!

Getting ready for the catch, my face isn't as carefree as it should be.

Clare and the girls
They're getting so big now (I'm talking about the girls here). Fionn is 6! Caoimhe is 8! Clare is much the same I suppose. We went to Carrick Castle and they loved it (again the girls, Clare could probably take or leave it, like most of us I imagine. Makes me miss them. Especially as Fionn as absolutely no memory of me ever being in Singapore. Not even for the return trip in 2009. Sad face.

[At this point I'd put a picture of us, but I haven't imported the photos yet and my camera is all the way upstairs.]

The Kennedys
I had this on Sky+ for ages but hadn't watched it. Then our Sky+ started to die a slow painful death, you know the kind that's hard to watch (believe it or not, no pun intended). But you know what I mean, I was forced to watch them all this week, box set style, in that I nearly ODed on them. If you haven't seen it, I wouldn't bother. It's not brilliant. I can't really put my finger on why; Greg Kinnear is decent, maybe labours the MA 'cah pahk' accent, Katie Holmes is nearly convincing as Jackie, Bobby kind of emerges as the star of it, albeit with some remarkable teeth. So all that considered, it must be the script, it's just a bit...well fake. No wonder the US History channel dropped it.

With our Sky+ dying we're upgrading to HD. We don't have an HD TV but never let that stop you in upgrading to something you don't really need. True to form Sky offered us an engineer a matter of weeks after we phoned up, so in the meantime we've a Sky+ box that only sometimes records programmes set, won't pause or rewind live TV and won't work on half the channels. Good, good. Oh and we daren't turn it off for fear we'd lose even that.

Golf
I'm sorry, I don't know how this happened. I don't even really understand the rules of golf. Well, yes, less hits the better but somehow I've been drawn into it even though I don't even consider a sport. Conclusive proof of this came today when Darren Clarke, leader of the Open, on his third round was caught on camera having a smoke. I'm sorry, any sport where it's acceptable for the leader to be having a smoke part way through is not a sport. Sports need to be physical, get your heart racing a bit (not through nicotine intake) and some degree of physical fitness. They don't even carry they're own bags for pity's sake! That said, something about it has had me watch about eight hours of it today and yesterday. I blame Rory.

Football fans

2011-06-23T01:08:00.001+01:00

Coming home from Brussels was nearly as exciting as going out, owing to the Champions' League final that was to be played in Wembley that night. I had a couple of hours to kill before my flight home so I got off the tube in Covent Garden and walked through to Picadilly people watching as I went.

Man Utd fans were camped out in Covent Garden.

Whereas Barca fans were congregated in Trafalgar Square.

Choice of clothing in how you represented your team was amusing and I particularly enjoyed this man wearing a skirt.

The media were out too, and I watched as this Man Utd fan gave a relatively serious interview to a Spanish crew, only to have a drunk Man Utd fan wait until the very last second to be a jeering intruder in the back.

Maternal concerns over my safety were not necessary as there was a good atmosphere between fans, as demonstated by the warm handshake below.

A handshake full of love and respect.

Before too long I was on my way to Heathrow. Imagine my shock to see this on the tube though.

All jokes aside, she was European and although I couldn't tell exactly where from my bet is Belgium.

Normally my blog would end there, but no. In Heathrow and the flight home I had two disasters.

1. I broke my brand new bottle of perfume on the airport floor when my bag of toiletries fell. No only that but the Aer Lingus staff were most unhelpful in the clean up operation and I cut my thumb. Which then became infected. Green pus. Tasty.

2. The insect bite I got on my ankle during the second night in Brussels swoll (that's not a word, but you know what I mean) up during the flight. So much so that the next day I couldn't walk on it. I even went down stairs on my butt. If you follow me on Twitter you'll know I was talking a lot about my sausage foot. This was why. It took another two days for the swelling to die down and another two weeks for the damn bite to stop itching - way over my normal insect bite healing time. During that time I did a lot of imagining of how that insect might have met his death. Falling into a vat of boiling oil was my favourite. In Christian love, of course.

Brussels baby

2011-06-22T20:01:00.007+01:00

It's a wonder the Friends people didn't film their special in Brussels; Brussels Baby as quite the ring to it.

Anywho, much like Lyon and Strasbourg the reasons and content of my trip there are unblogable. But not the photos!

I saw this postcard on my way home. Pleased to say I had a typical experience. Except for whatever that is middle left.

Belgian Waffles! (I didn't eat all of these, but I could have if challenged.)

Of course we visited the European Institutions.

Ra ra Europe!

It seems to me that no matter where you are in the world, there's always an Irish pub around the corner. Except in Ireland, where we just call them pubs.

There was an important looking press conference about to take place outside. No idea what about! Don't be concerned about the rubbish, see next photo)

It's art, silly! This is a monster made from plastic bags, showing the waste that is involved in using them.

Belgium has some interesting art. And some things they think is art. Like this piece in a metro station.

I don't really know what this represents, or why there's a child's foot poking out of one end.

And of course there's the more famous example of Manneken Pis. (Click on the Wikipedia page to see him dressed up. The judo outfit is a particular favourite.)

I don't get it. Although I have seen it every time I've ever been to Brussels. Ever the tourist, me.

I like that the chocolate shops in the streets around it really capitalise on it too.

There's a reason why the original is so small. Some things you don't need to see enlarged (or made into a chocolate replica, for that matter).

Well eating and peeing is just wrong. And he'll want to be careful where that flag drapes.

We also saw the Belgian Palace. Nice.

The un-touristy view of Belgium was quite exciting too, of course. Not least because of this in a newsagents.

It must be just like Bella!

Also, Fair Trade Cola on sale in regular shops. That's something I'd like to see here.

In the train station on my way home I noticed something I hadn't really paid attention to before. People with little dogs.

This woman was in Quick (well if you're going to have fast food, best make it local) And her little dog was there too! In a restaurant (and I use that term loosely).

And then at the departure gate another one! I mean really.

So do Belgians have a great love for little dogs that they're allowed most anywhere?

Anyway, a good time was had by all. And just in case there was any doubt about the work that was done, let me show you the garden of where we were staying.

There wasn't even a pool in this place. Fa-chaa!

A plane, the president and the palace

2011-06-17T17:29:00.002+01:00

Exam marking season now underway so what better time to blog about my trip to Brussels a couple of weeks ago?! As with Lyon and Strasbourg, these places are a bally nightmare to get to. I avoided the silly o'clock flight from Dublin and took the plane from Belfast and Eurostar from St. Pancras. Makes for a better travelling experience I thought. And I was right.

Our flight flew right over central London, and had it been a better day it would have been like an episode of The Apprentice. I first noticed when we flew right over a massive train station that looked awfully like St. Pancras, except using my London geography knowledge I knew that St. Pancras was nowhere near Heathrow. It's not, but we still flew over it and turned the wrong way to get to Heathrow. That's why I'm not a pilot. Next thing I know we're over Greenwich and Olympic Park and I was reaching for my camera!

Olympic Park. You can see the stadium, basketball arena, velodrome and village. Never mind those though, where's the handball arena?!

Home of 2012 Gymnastics.

Canary Wharf. I can nearly hear The Apprentice music now...bum dadum badum badum badum badum ba dum dummmm...

Right over Tower Bridge. You can't really tell except for its shadow in the Thames.

Central London. I've picked out a few highlights for you below.

I decided against annotating the plane wing and the Thames. I thought you could spot them yourself.

Whitehall, the London Eye and Big Ben.

Buckingham Palace and St. James' Park.

Finally our jaunt over the hot spots of London was over, things became more residential and less obvious. Except for this place.

The blue seats of Queen's Club!

And off in the distance, Wembley.

I feel the towers would have been harder to pick out that the big arch.

It was exciting that morning to hear that Obama was going to be arriving in Buckingham Palace. I had a few hours before my train with nothing planned. So I headed to Buckingham Palace to see what I could see.

American flags on Pall Mall for one...

and crowds were milling about.

The press porta-cabins for William and Kate were downgraded to gazebos for the President.

The little walk way you can see was left open so I, along with about twenty other people piled across the back of all their shots. I was the only one with a suitcase, however.

The BBC's Emily Maitlis was getting ready to go live.

The Household Cavalry rode past.

There were loads of cameras there. I saw them set up the one on the roof of the Palace, there were big stands and then there was this guy.

The police on duty were deliberating sketchy about where the car was going to be coming from or going to. Understandable I suppose. I had picked out a place right beside the lamp post in this shot only to decide to move closer to the gates.

I picked the wrong gates though and definitely would have been better where I was.

I, and my fellow hangers on, waited. And then we waited some more. And then a little bit more. It wasn't actually that bad, it was all good natured. I got talking to a group of American students were in London on a layover to Kenya for 12 weeks. I took their picture for them after it was all over so they have a nice group shot in front of the Palace. I'm such a friendly sort.

The finally big moment came, the cheers started and the President drove past. I wouldn't actually say I saw him so much as I saw someone waving in the back of the car. I took a video but it's a bit Jimmy White and if I were to put it on you'd really wonder if I saw anything at all. Like I said, I would have been better where I was. Oh well.

It took a while for them to let us out of the area in front of the palace. I didn't understand why. And then it became clear: William and Kate arrived. Ironically they went through the gate I was at, except I had moved to try to leave so all I saw was the car they were in. Not so successful. That said, I doubt I'll ever be closer to Obama or the Cambridges.

Or Emily Maitlis for that matter.

Methodist Newsletters of yesteryear (Part 3)

2011-06-16T18:16:00.002+01:00

Well, I haven't heard of any of my friendships being terminated. So that either means no one knows they are here or no one minds. Or of course, maybe they're just eagerly awaiting Part 3. Well wait no more, here is it!

Of course, I liked seeing people I know, but seeing family members was best of all! Dad and David, never having worked for the Church, didn't really feature much. Mum and me on the other hand...

Spotted: Mum (in white) at NE Synod c.1986. I knew the instant I turned the page that was my mum!

Rumour has it she taught Dennis Taylor everything he needed to know about snooker.

Then I found me!

Here's me at Soul Mates Challenge. Oh, I'm not the one with yo-yo; I'm the one sitting down.

Alright, alright, here's a proper one with me.

We had problems clapping in time it seems.

I saw a few others, but they are far too recent (2007 on) to be interesting and I don't appear to be doing anything funny, such as, oh I don't know...hula hooping.

But then I struck Methodist Newsletter gold, GOLD I tell you. Right there on a front cover from 1986 was this classic.

I got told that I look like Mowgli from Jungle Book but with a broken nose from playing rugby. Trouble is, I really can't argue with that description. (Glad the awkward growing-out-the-bowl-haircut stage was documented for all of Methodism to see.)

I remember this photo being taken. It was the only time I wore that dress (this photo makes it look good which is one small mercy). Our minister came and took the photo for us. And it took ages, like an actual age and this was the best photo he took?! Like, really there wasn't one where I looked, I don't know, normal?

It was Mark (McE) who told me I look like Mowgli. But I think that was only because I had shown him this one of his family.

This makes me feel better.

Best of all was that these two photos were side by side in the bound Newsletters. It was like an early Awkward Family Photos.com.