Iain won't be home until later tonight, so I'm on my own for dinner.
On the bus on the way home I tried to decide what I should eat.
And then I remembered I had three boxes of Three Cheese Macaroni & Cheese at home, and I got really, really excited.
Shall I make myself some Mac & Cheese? Maybe cook up a little frozen garlic bread on the side? Holla!
And then I got home from Sainsburys and a few other shops and looked at the items I had brought back with me:
And then I realized what my life would be like if I were single.
Marie Claire. Washing my hair. Chocolate. Fake pasta.
I am the first to admit that many if not all of my problems are of the first world nature. I'll complain about a slow internet connection, the temperature of my latte and strop and grump around the airport if I don't get that free upgrade I was promised.
However, yesterday, when thousands of Britons were complaining and whinging and bitching about how the snow was making them cold, or slowing down public transport, or generally acting as if the snow was a personal attack on their tight, daily schedule, I wanted to pull my hair out. Or maybe their hair out.
I'm not exactly a big humanitarian and I'll admit I don't even turn off the water when I'm brushing my teeth - but complaining about SNOW when there was a devastating, deadly earthquake in Haiti with thousands of people dead or injured or missing... blood soaked rubble and people who are scared out of their mind as there are STILL aftershocks happening...sorry, but STFU about your fucking bus being late.
Yeah, I'm lucky that I work from home and don't have to fuck about with walking uphill, barefoot, in the snow, BOTH WAYS like y'all with proper jobs - but seriously, listen to how you sound for two seconds.
This morning on GMTV there was a whole segment on people in Coventry and in smaller villages around the UK that have - get this - NOT HAD THEIR RUBBISH COLLECTED IN WEEKS. WEEKS I TELL YOU.
I found it hard to sit here and give a shit about the poor people in Coventry who could't be bothered to toss their own rubbish in their car and drive it to the tip themselves when there are people dead in the streets somewhere else.
Like, yeah, having rubbish sitting around isn't nice. Especially if you have kids that are still in diapers or cat litter or you've never heard of a compost bin and have tons of rotting food in your bins. Yes, rats and foxes love that shit, so it might become a hassle. And it probably smells.
But some sassy blond chick sitting in her Ikea-tastic kitchen wagging her tongue about how, "I can get in to work every day, so the council should stop making excuses and at least come over here and drag my rubbish up the top of the road. Sometimes you have to go above and beyond," made me want to pick her up and drop her off in Haiti as a volunteer and then see how much she cares about her council coming to pick up her trash. Pissed off with your recycling laying around? Just think how fun it will be when you're surrounded by bodies, instead.
Again, I hate to sound like some, I don't know, humanitarian vegetarian egalitarian or whatever - but seriously. Some people really need to bring themselves up and out of their angry commuter, privileged existence and get some perspective.
Image via TimesOnline
All I've done over the past few days is shop. During my all too frequent outings to various malls and shops, I've discovered some interesting bits.
Meat Gum
For a whopping 64 cents at Walgreens you can buy chewing gum that looks like bologna and hot dogs. As a kid, I recall actually eating and enjoying the hot dog gum. However, what I don't remember is the "Blow Your Lunch" tagline.
The Carousel "Kitty of Death"
This cat scares the crap out of me.
So, it's New Year's Eve.
December 31st.
The turn of the decade.
The end of an era.
To be honest, I care more about the fact that the Doctor as we know him is dying and I'll never get to see a fresh episode of David Tennant running around in Converse and a long trench coat than I do about it being 2010, but maybe that's just me.
This time of year annoys me only slightly less than Valentine's Day. For example. on V Day, people suddenly decide that they need to be romantic. Oh, maybe I should be nice to my wife. Oh, maybe I shouldn't be such a raging asshole to my husband and actually have sex with him or something.
Just as people wait until February 14th to be romantic, why do people wait until December 31st to do some self reflection?
Maybe if everyone were a little romantic and a little more self aware those other 364 days of the year, perhaps I would like the general public more, and hate the majority of the people on Earth a little less.
But, bad attitude aside, I suppose I'm just grateful that everyone is being all reflective and truly thinking about what this next year will bring, and what 2009 meant to them.
I'm not going to link back to all my significant posts in 2009, because if you really cared about my year, you'd head over to my archives. Or, if you're a true stalker, you will have read all of them already and when I say, "Hey remember that time I was in Florida and-" you'll finish my sentence and send me the link to one of the Facebook photos I posted in July.
(God I'm feeling cynical this morning. Maybe I should have opted for coffee over tea...)
How do I feel about 2009? I feel tired. My brain is scrambled and I'm trying to use this time I have back in my family home, in my native country - as obese and deep-fried as it is - to do some reflecting and to try to get all my ducks in a row.
On Facebook today, Bitch Magazine asked their fans and readers to help give them suggestions for what should be included in their Feminist Moments of the Decade round up.
Some people gave genuinely good examples. There was something about Mad Men. Then something about accepting trans-gendered people, something else about Le Tigre.And then someone had the GALL to suggest Lady GaGa as she has "radically transformed conventional attitudes toward female pop stardom".
In the same breath, this person also suggested Sonia Sotomayor, the first hispanic justice and only the third female justice in the Supreme Court of the United States.
There were some other intelligent suggestions and "seconding" of nominations of people like Lady GaGa...
And then someone was so enraged by people's STOOPID suggestions that she couldn't help but chime in and let everyone know what a dumbass pretend feminist they were:
"Lady Gaga? Seriously? I guess overhyped pop garbage is what a feminist publication should be focusing on.
And Sotomayor? Really? What gay rights cases has she actually weighed in on? How has she actually proven her pro-choice cred?
Come on guys, there are MUCH better people to focus on from the past year."
Yeah, IDIOTS. There MUCH better people to focus on, OK?
I just love people who patronize you and tell you you're stupid and need to think harder, and then act as if they are so high and mighty and an expert on the subject that they shouldn't waste any of their precious brain power on a task that is clearly meant for peons like you and me.
You know, because they don't actually have any better ideas.
I happen to think that both Lady GaGa and Sotomayor are excellent choices for the round-up.
I'm just hoping Jessica Valenti's amazingly brave and ground breaking white feminist wedding and Sarah Palin blazing that rouge, feminist trail for women in politics end up on the list, too.
Fingers crossed!
This morning Jonathan Ross tweeted asking everybody what their favorite Christmas toy was when they were younger.
I started thinking about the presents of Christmases passed, and while I couldn't remember a specific toy that made me the most happy other than
- the stuffed bear I got when I was six months old that I still have today. (Boo-Boo, if you're reading this, happy 24th birthday in advance.)
- the Native American Barbie I got in 3rd grade that I think I was so excited about I nearly cried.
But the Christmas I do think about was when I was 12.
It was one of the last Christmases that my parents were together, and while some of the details are fuzzy and I'm sure I'm confusing one Christmas with another, I do remember how fantastic it was.
Santa brought me a giant cosmetic case filled with soaps and lotions and special creams. It also had my first shaver in it, which I was pretty excited about. I mean, hello, if this didn't make me a lady I don't know what would.
I also got Trisha Yearwood's album "Songbook", a pair of black corduroy overalls and a plaid shirt to wear over it (hello mid-'90s), too.
If I recall, we had a very, very good day. There was the special cheese dip my mom makes, leftover Lumpia that my dad made on Christmas Eve...
I think this is also the year my Dad became obsessed with putting together this 3D puzzle I got from one of my Aunts, but as I wasn't much of a puzzle person, my dad had a really good time with it.
Whenever I remember that Christmas, it makes me really happy. I was completely ignorant that my family would change dramatically in the years to come. For the time being, we all seemed to be happy and content. There were loads of presents and it's by far one of my best memories from Christmases growing up...
Before making sure we squeezed in as much time as possible with my Mom before my Dad was (late) picking us up. Feeling incredibly guilty and anxiety-ridden that my Mom was by herself on Christmas day, not matter how much she says she "didn't mind, really,".
But, now, as I've mentioned before, things have changed.
Maybe it's the mince pies, maybe it's being with Iain, but regardless of the whys or the hows, I think Christmas and I can be friends again.
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