Thursday, 26 February 2009

My two bob's worth...

Everyone's talking about Jade Goody. Everywhere I look, there's newspapers, magazines, websites, TV programmes about how she's doing, and often, showing complete contradictory information. But even more, there's the opinions of a nation. Why she's wrong. Why she's right. Even in the House of Commons, people are talking about her choice to die in the limelight.

I'm watching Question Time with my flatmate, and this woman in the audience disagrees with the whole circus surrounding her life, her illness, and her eventual death. She seems to think Jade is garnering publicity for her career, rather than raising both awareness women should have, about this disease, and money for her sons upbringing for when she's no longer around.

There's a question of exploitation here, I know. But who's exploiting who? And if the ends justify the means, does it matter? Regardless of so-called popular belief, Jade is no fool. She's doing everything she can to hold onto the last bit of control she has left, and she's doing it for her sons.

There's the general opinion of, why should Jade earn all this money when thousands of people around the UK alone are suffering, dying, and unable to earn the same money for their children?

My answer, my opinion is, simply, she should because she can. If any person could earn money for their children by, in effect, selling their death - they would. I challenge anyone to tell me they wouldn't do that for their children. For her to turn down that chance based on the fact someone else can't, that, to me, would be patronising.

Jade has lived her adult life in the public eye, been the nation's sweetheart and public enemy number one. Her whole worth has been based on what the tabloids and "reality" programmes are willing to pay her, and we have contributed to that. We wanted to dip into every aspect of her life, and now we're uncomfortable with the level of intimacy that's been nurtured by us - the paying public.

Tough. We built her up, tore her down, followed her through relationships, break ups, pregnancies, weight gain, weight loss, several medical scares, rumours, cosmetic surgery, affairs, falling out of clubs, endorsements, and that race scandal. Everytime a new scandal hit, yahoo searchs went up, interviews were done, and the nation wondered what was next for that crazy girl. It's only right we stand by her now, and face the fact that we created this life for her, we owe at least that to her.

I don't think Jade's legacy will be a bad one. In fact, Jade, without meaning to, has alwaysmade us talk about the uncomfortable, the things we'd rather hide under the nation's carpet. The lack of education within the school system. The ignorance of religion and race - even of geography. The "ladette" culture, binge drinking and fighting. Relationships caught in a circle. The idea of beauty - what's socially acceptable. Homosexuality, and how that relates to childrearing.

And now, the subject of death. It's never easy, even though it's sometimes welcomed. We see death as something that should happen quickly, quietly, and no publicity please - it isn't dignified. We need to face the fact that we have to reap what we've sown. A life in the public eye, a death in the public's soul. It's something that affects us all, and the sooner we all get over overselves and the faux shock at witnessing something so natural, mortality - the better.

She is under the microscope and we can't help but look. She is touching, within me at least, that fear of mortality, and forcing me to accept death. She is fighting for her style of dignity, to die as she lives now, as she has always lived, and she's fighting this battle under the limelight to protect and provide for her boys.

The fact that her battle is also enabling women to present themselves to their doctors and demanding the tests that could save their life is also so encouraging. I think, in years to come, we will remember that fact before the race scandal that almost ended her career.

I support and respect everything she is doing. What she's trying to acheive, and what she's inspired. And for that, I say, Jade,

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Monday, 23 February 2009

Job Interview...

I love independent coffee shops. They seem to *do* coffee with more passion than (shudder) Starbucks. But one thing is, when you get a job interview of an independent place, you can't look them up online to find out more about them, usually. Definitely not in the case of Esquire Coffee House. I've got the job interview today, and all I know is what it looks like, where it is (obv), and that the owners name is Liz. Not a great amount to go in on.

I'm confident enough in my abilities as a barista to know I will walk the "tech" part of the interview - but I'd also like to walk in armed with the background information on this little place. I'll have to wing it, and ask loads of questions!

So, I've not slept, I've attempted to cover up that fact with plenty of make up, coffee, and water! My hair is done, and the 3 outfits I'm debating between are set out, ready for a decision!

Wish me luck!

I'm just glad I've even got an interview at this point!


Friday, 20 February 2009

Calling Vintage Kitten!!!!

I've been following your blog for a little while now, but now I'm locked out!

I found a darling little book, called "The Perfect Hostess" by Rose Henniker Heaton, published in 1931 - and a few pages on cocktails made me think of you! I was going to send it to you, but I'll post it here instead.

Pim Cup

One wineglass of No. 1 Pim cup mixture in a large tumbler
1/2 bottle small lemonade
1/2 bottle small soda-water
Slices of orange & lemon
2 slices rind of cucumber
Fill up with lumps of ice
Spray of borrage

( A Commander writes; "If you give your rich aunt one glass of this mixture, she will immediately get out her cheque book and keep adding noughts with every sip she takes until she is overdrawn.")


The Famous Lone Lodge Punch

Take two Seville oranges and one lemon - rub the yellow off with a quarter of a pound of sugar, add the juice and pulp and a very little hot water (just enough to make the mixture almalgamate), then add a claret glass of maraschino, half a pint of strong green tea, two sherry glasses of liquid sunshine rhum, half a pint of pale brandy, and a bottle of champagne.

NOTE. The author will be grateful to any reader who will kindly write to her describing the effect of this punch (or instruct the executors to do so).


Hope to hear from you soon Mrs Kitten!

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

I have a secret

I don't like Valentine's Day.

*Waits to be hit with rocks*

Sorry, I just don't. It's a life long dislike, regardless of the fact a few boys/men/whatever have wanted to use this day to spoil lil ole me. I've refused all but one year, and 3 weeks later, my 4 year relationship was over. No, I don't blame Valentine's Day, it's more like that day really highlighted the fact we were all but over.

Let's go back a few years, when I was 14, and a boy came to my door with a teddy bear, a plastic rose and a card, and asked my mum if I was allowed to go for a walk. I was, and we went. Me, completely overdressed and feeling completely awkward, and he, hands shoved down his pockets and face firmly down, walked along the road, going nowhere in particular, and silent. All my friends were boys, and I didn't understand why this boy wanted to give me these gifts and walk along a silent road when the other boys wanted to give me a dead arm and cycle along country roads to find dead things. I was a tomboy, and a good one! After 20 excruciating minutes, I made my excuses, and fled. Yikes. I swore then I would avoid him like the plague and continue being the tomboy I always was. Boys were stoopid anyway.

When Valentine's Day rolled around the next year, I was curious if I'd receive anything. I didn't, and I realised then that suited me fine. No worries about getting presents, which even given my "spoilt brat" status, has always made me feel uncomfortable, and no competing with the other girls in school as to how many I received. Sure, I wore skirts now and shoes were fast becoming an obsession, but the boys still seen me as one of the lads, laughing at farting and playing football. It simply didn't occur to them I would want one. The girls tittered, the guys looked confused, and I didn't care. I was happy.

When MD and I first got together, we went to see Slipknot (oh yeah, I loved them!) on Valentine's Day. More because it fell on that day than as an actual *date*. I warned him not to get me a card, and he did. He thought I was kidding. I wasn't.

Cue rant.

"Do you love me?", I asked slowly, dangerously. "Of course I do", he stammered, not sure what he'd done wrong but knowing I was pissed about something. "Why then, do you feel the need to 'prove' it on a particular day of no real relevance to us as a couple? Do you think I wouldn't know unless you handed me a card with bunnies and glitter on it?", I demanded, watching him go from careful, to confused, and then upset. "Well I know you know I know I love you, and sorreee for wanting to give you something nice and treat you! I just thought you didn't want anything because you never got anything before and you were pretending to be ok with that!"

Cue explosion.

"WHAT!? How dare you! You think this is nice?", throwing the card toward him, but watching it pitifully flutter to the floor. "I tried the whole romantic thing and felt nothing but weird and awkward and I don't want that in exchange for a crappy card and some roses!" I stormed off to pour myself a long steamy bath. And I locked the door, loudly. I calmed down, of course, we went out, and never spoke of it again.

That was 14th February 2001.

Fast forward to 14th February 2005. Long story short, our relationship was dying a death, and neither of us were willing to admit it. Feeling like we owed it to ourselves to try. I tentatively suggested a meal at our favourite restaurant, Underworld (may she rest). Going against everything I held to be true for so long, I done the dress up, the romantic meal, the cheesy card, the rose. We sat through that entire meal saying nothing. It had become the cliche of "How's your food, dear?", "Fine, sweetie". I was reminded of how uncomfortable I felt years before, trying force a connection. We went to a friends gig after, and gladly lost each other for the rest of the night. We broke up 3 weeks later.

Since then, I've been in an almost relationship, and a very definite one. I've never tried to celebrate Valentines with them. This past Valentine's Day will have marked G and I's second together. During the day, he was working while I was nursing a cold in the comfort of his home. He came home, cooked dinner, and we had a few glasses of wine, curled up on the sofa, and watched DVD's. This is our routine, and nothing about the day made it any more or any less special than it already is.

I can't imagine trying to force romance between us. For such a self confessed cynic, in this relationship, I'm disgustingly sappy with G, and he with me. We joke about it. I really don't need a card once a year, when he gropes me every day to show he cares!

All the tackiness of Valentine's Day is over for another year... think it's safe to go out yet?

Saturday, 14 February 2009


I did intend to finish and post a blog I started a few days ago.

But I'm loaded with the cold. Feverish, sneezy and coughing. Ick. I'm looking at this screen and I can't really focus, so I'm putting myself back to bed and hoping this time I don't have nightmares. I hate the mightmares. I can deal with everything else - but not the nightmares.

I'd rather fall into a dreamless, deep coma. For about 7 hours, at least.

Wish me health.

Monday, 9 February 2009

It's not right.

I'm angry at the world today. I can't understand why bad things happen to good people. It's wrong. He's fought so hard, and it's not enough. I didn't think I'd feel this way again, so angry and... god I'm being so fucking selfish.

Need to be there for him now.

I just can't understand a world that gives a 24 year old terminal cancer.

I'm swinging between rage and utter self-serving sorrow. Apologies in advance for being crazy.

I will be... for a while - need to NOT be infront of him. I'm not a monster, but I don't think it would do him any good to see people so upset.


Wednesday, 4 February 2009

What about insomniac and fidgety?

You Are Dreamy and Distracted

You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people.

You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts.

You are prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. You sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals.

You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing.

You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long.

You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.

You are very open. You communicate well, and you connect with other people easily.

You are a naturally creative person. Ideas just flow from your mind.

A true chameleon, you are many things at different points in your life. You are very adaptable.

You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.

You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.

At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself.

You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow.

You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily.

Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is.

You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection.

You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive.

You have the classic "Type A" personality.

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Beautiful song of the Day

Sara Bareilles - Gravity

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone

You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

Set me free, leave me be
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall
Just the way I'm supposed to be
But you're on to me and all over me

Oh, you loved me 'cause I'm fragile
When I thought that I was strong
But you touch me for a little while
And all my fragile strength is gone

I live here on my knees
As I try to make you see
That you're everything I think I need
Here on the ground
But you're neither friend nor foe
Though I can't seem to let you go
The one thing that I still know is that
You're keeping me down

Keeping me down
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You're on to me, on to me and all over

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long...