Friday, August 26, 2005

Don't call me a homo!

I am now officially a homeowner. I exchanged on my flat yesterday and am moving in a couple of weeks.

This has led to me feeling very grown up all day. That is, until the Health and Safety man at work said I needed a special chair "for someone of my stature". Back to square one.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Super

For the boyfriend's birthday yesterday I bought him a Sonic the Hedgehog collection for the Playstation 2 (yes, you heard that right). I spent a day watching him play it, in awe of how much he could remember, before I decided to dust off my gameboy and play a game of Super Mario Land.

It is extremely creepy to think that I haven't played it in about ten years, yet I still remember when to randomly jump in the air to find a hidden block, when to bother going down a chimney and when not to, and how to out-manoevre a baddy.

Playing it was better than any time machine and, when I eventually looked up from the game I was shocked not to find myself in my parents' house with Dad watching football on the telly and a Hexagone French textbook on the dining table begging me to do my homework.

Random memories, such as the wrapping paper I covered my maths book with, or how uncomfortable it is to wear a school kilt, are now swimming round my brain.

I think it's time to put the Gameboy away again. It's been far too emotional.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Ooh, it's a little monkey, look!

Yeah, yeah, I've blogged about it before. And the blogging community is obviously far too effete to join me in my hysteria. BUT... How fucking good is Big Brother this year?

There's been stalking, cross-dressing, an immaculate conception...

It has a Tory speechwriter going insane and seeing imaginary monkeys.

It has the housemates having to guess which famous horse Big Brother is thinking of in order to win toilet roll (and Anthony guessing "Is it Sandy, the horse from Dogtanian?")

Moments have even emulated Waiting for Godot. ("I'm going to leave" says Orlaith. She does not leave.)

To be honest, I'm desperately saddened on many levels that Kemal was evicted and isn't going to win. Although, on the other hand, I'm quite glad he's left because I think I was starting to develop a bit of a crush on him which is something a hetrosexual woman on the brink of marriage should never EVER say about a nineteen-year-old transvestite.

The tasks this year have been genius. Putting them each in individual cardboard boxes until they couldn't bear it any longer was one of my favourites. I also liked it when they made Maxwell sort maggots into different piles while the other housemates pretended they were doing the same task, but were actually having a party.

I love the fact that in moments of pure boredom at work I can approach a colleague and say "You're my best mate here and I want to look after you. I'm not perving on you though," and about five hours of conversation will follow. So many people watch it and they all have an opinion.

Yes - all the housemates are irritating attention-seeking little shits

Yes - it shows how sad and lonely my life must be to enjoy watching strangers sleeping

Yes - all they do is argue, drink, play practical jokes and run around naked

But I love it.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Patriotism

I've always felt uncomfortable with the notion of patriotism. It's basically a way of saying your country is better than anywhere else in the world. Which is obviously bollocks, because most people (residents of war and famine-ridden places excepted)love where they were brought up simply because it's familiar.

But my attitude towards it changed when I lived abroad. I found myself constantly having to defend the British way of life. And my 'patriotism' towards London became even stronger when I lived 'oop North where people were constantly saying that Londoners are rude (an ironic statement, I always found...)

I'm feeling even more strongly aligned to London at the moment. Maybe it's the terror attacks, maybe it's the Olympics, I'm not sure. But I seem to be slowly edging towards the kind of flag-waving freak that I always tried so hard to avoid.

Give it a few more days and I'll be digging out the Charles and Di commemoration plates.