I was chatting with some friends at work about PMS the other week. One of my friends is French and she swears she never heard of this in France.
I can not believe there is no pms in France so my only conclusion is that they either don’t have a term for it or they never talk about it.
We assured her that she **does** suffer from this and we would make a note of her moods and let her know when we think she was suffering so she could confirm our suspicions (after the event of course to ensure a rational response) - note this is how girls lose friends in a day.
Anyway I did some googling and came across a few songs written about said subject, I though I would share some snippets with you:
Parton Dolly, PMS Blues
You don't want to cross my path
Cause a pitbull ain't no match
For these teeth a clenchin', fluid retention
Head a swellin', can't stop yellin'
Got no patience, I'm so hateful
PMS blues, premenstrual syndrome
Got those moods a swingin', tears a slingin'
Nothin' fits me when it hits me
Rantin', ravin', misbehavin'
PMS blues
Mary J. Blige, PMS
Today I'm not feelin pretty
See I'm feeling quite ugly
Havin one of this days
When I cant make up my mind
So don't even look at me
Lunachicks, @#%! (PMS)
I don't like it : PMS
But I got it : PMS
Every month it's: PMS
Gimme a heat pack : PMS
Got any Advil?
Got any chocolate?
I need good @#%!
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Thursday, 17 April 2008
Twitter ye not
There is a pressure when twittering to appear to be 'funny' to your friends & 'intellectual' to your work colleagues. It also helps to not appear to be a saddo and to be actually *having* a life but not so much of a life that will raise your boss' eyebrow or the vicar or whoever else might happen upon your facebook page. It's all just too much.
Many a time I start writing a twitter only to discard it. Why? They are all as mundane as each other, I can only put it down to a complex fear of rejection. These twitters languish in the drafts folder of my mobile phone. I thought I'd let them breathe here and will add to them, compare these with my actual twitters (eyes right) and it's hard to spot the difference.
"howard moon colon explorer. i love the boosh"
"bedtime reading. the complete letters of oscar wilde"
"Amazed to see a guy standing right next to a bin decide to shove his rubbish in a bush"
"ha ha. spotted some guy on the tube studying his prince2 course manual. must be his first day"
"Woah, a new bus stop has appeared on exhibition road. Long time coming"
"Just set the smoke alarms off for the first time in the new flat. Did you hear them?"
Friday, 28 March 2008
The Boy from Space
Anyone in their 30's from the UK will possibly remember The Boy From Space (his name was Peep Peep) - this is the thing that has given me more nightmares than anything else in my whole life so far. Recently someone posted whole episodes up on youtube but they're been removed. I can't believe they are actually showing this stuff to kids - it's wrong.
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Monday, 10 March 2008
Who's the Daddy?
Last week I became a parent…[Drumroll]...let me introduce my Alien baby.
So who is the Daddy?
Well the parenting is shared between 4 people in my office, two mothers and 2 fathers.
The baby was the result of a lunch-hour-sugar-rush-fuelled trip to the Science Museum store. We were so excited when we got back to the office we decided to ‘hatch’ the baby straight away.
The chief male in the group took charge over this ‘conception’ part of the process but has since had no interest in the progress of the youngster (sound familiar?).
His name is Dodec, each 24 hours of hours of earth time is a year of his life so today is his birthday (well everyday is his birthday) and he is 10 years old.
Happy Birthday Dodec and sorry I missed the last 8 years of your life…..I was on a project management training course.
The baby was the result of a lunch-hour-sugar-rush-fuelled trip to the Science Museum store. We were so excited when we got back to the office we decided to ‘hatch’ the baby straight away.
The chief male in the group took charge over this ‘conception’ part of the process but has since had no interest in the progress of the youngster (sound familiar?).
His name is Dodec, each 24 hours of hours of earth time is a year of his life so today is his birthday (well everyday is his birthday) and he is 10 years old.
Happy Birthday Dodec and sorry I missed the last 8 years of your life…..I was on a project management training course.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
You tube
Anyone who travels in to work on the tube will know you often end up travelling to and from work with some familiar faces. There are times I have been about to approach someone in the supermarket thinking I know them only to stop myself when I realise they are just a fellow commuter.
A few months ago I met a guy at a friends party, we knew each other instantly as we often saw each other on the tube. We talked about bird spotting (something we both have a passion for) but he lost me when he started describing his home made slow worm trap. Anyway after that night we saw each other often on the train and he'd tell me stories of going out to use his bat measuring device, my friend at work used to love hearing about him and he gained the nick-name Batman.
There are then those folk whom you know but have no desire talking to, I tend to approach the station platform with my head down in the hope that if I don't see them I can't feel guilty about ignoring them. These people most likely don't want to talk to you for an hour on the train either.
This week a friend and I were travelling in together looking forward to a good girly gas when we met one of 'them'. First comes the awkward question, do we all sit in a line or opposite each other? (we went for 3 in a row formation). My friend is much better at chit chat but I was stuck in the middle so had them talking across me for 20 minutes. Then she got off and I had to cope with another 20 minutes of agonising small talk.
In future I will stick to the rules....head down (texting is a good way to do this)....ipod on....or heavily engaging phone call.
The things I do to remain anti-social are tedious.
A few months ago I met a guy at a friends party, we knew each other instantly as we often saw each other on the tube. We talked about bird spotting (something we both have a passion for) but he lost me when he started describing his home made slow worm trap. Anyway after that night we saw each other often on the train and he'd tell me stories of going out to use his bat measuring device, my friend at work used to love hearing about him and he gained the nick-name Batman.
There are then those folk whom you know but have no desire talking to, I tend to approach the station platform with my head down in the hope that if I don't see them I can't feel guilty about ignoring them. These people most likely don't want to talk to you for an hour on the train either.
This week a friend and I were travelling in together looking forward to a good girly gas when we met one of 'them'. First comes the awkward question, do we all sit in a line or opposite each other? (we went for 3 in a row formation). My friend is much better at chit chat but I was stuck in the middle so had them talking across me for 20 minutes. Then she got off and I had to cope with another 20 minutes of agonising small talk.
In future I will stick to the rules....head down (texting is a good way to do this)....ipod on....or heavily engaging phone call.
The things I do to remain anti-social are tedious.
Friday, 18 January 2008
Fight Club
So I have a lot of weird dreams these days, I keep nagging my friend who is a trainee psychotherapist to interpret them but she's too busy buying clothes on the internet.
The other night I actually gave birth, my mom took the baby from me straight away to rinse it under the tap (she's a nurse so she must know what she's doing).
In another dream I visited my friend Rachel's new place of work, upon her request I am blogging this!
Her new office was like a huge airplane hangar but carpeted (nasty blue office floor tiles). She had a long desk herself (well, she is the MD), and then there were some Dilbert style cubicles. About half a mile down the hangar was an electric bike showroom. Anyone who knows Rachel will know this isn't as strange as it sounds :o)
She took me around to meet the team, the first of whom could only be described as a male model ('nice' thinks me), I could enjoy working here. The next thing I know my friend Katie has arrived and her and the male model are wrestling on the floor. Rachel claps her hands yelling 'Oh goodie, fight time'.
The dream experts say:
Fighting - To see others fighting in your dream, suggests that you are unwilling to acknowledge your own problems and turmoil. You are not taking any responsibility or initiative in trying to resolve issues in your waking life.
I checked with Rachel and they don't have a fight-club policy in her company which is a shame.
The other night I actually gave birth, my mom took the baby from me straight away to rinse it under the tap (she's a nurse so she must know what she's doing).
In another dream I visited my friend Rachel's new place of work, upon her request I am blogging this!
Her new office was like a huge airplane hangar but carpeted (nasty blue office floor tiles). She had a long desk herself (well, she is the MD), and then there were some Dilbert style cubicles. About half a mile down the hangar was an electric bike showroom. Anyone who knows Rachel will know this isn't as strange as it sounds :o)
She took me around to meet the team, the first of whom could only be described as a male model ('nice' thinks me), I could enjoy working here. The next thing I know my friend Katie has arrived and her and the male model are wrestling on the floor. Rachel claps her hands yelling 'Oh goodie, fight time'.
The dream experts say:
Fighting - To see others fighting in your dream, suggests that you are unwilling to acknowledge your own problems and turmoil. You are not taking any responsibility or initiative in trying to resolve issues in your waking life.
I checked with Rachel and they don't have a fight-club policy in her company which is a shame.
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