“Elbow grease, and elbow room”

*

I love it when acronyms stand for vastly different things depending on the circle it’s being discussed in. For instance, since I discovered this on wikipedia a couple of minutes ago, I am DYING to be invited to the kind of event where you might overhear:
“Now when you say ‘ODB’, are you referring to the rapper (and founding Wu Tang member) Ol’ Dirty Bastard, or to the Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium?”

“Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug”

*

I have a gas fireplace in my room. May not sound like a big deal to you, but when you live on the ground floor of a flimsy, Victorian terrace in Norwich, and it’s February and the heating isn’t working downstairs again…well. It’s essentially the most wonderful thing in the world.

My main lightbulb has blown out, so I’m relying on a pink Ikea desk lamp to keep me out of the dark. The fire helps too, obviously. Its flames make the whole room flicker, in a subtle, lovely way.

The flames makes me think of prehistoric art on cave walls, and the Disneyland Pirates of the Caribbean ride.
It’s a strange feeling when something calls to the most primeval part of the brain, and nothing does it quite like fire. It’s one of the few things that defines man.

Something about this time of year makes me devolve. I’m like a chick in an incubator, or maybe one better, I’m like an egg. All I want is to be wrapped up warm and soft. Not hungry or cold or confused.

“You know that I’m proud and I can’t get the words out”

*

In the world of television, if you have a historical paper to deliver, it’s basically THE LAW that the historical character in question will show up the night before, floating above your bed all silvery-ghosty, to help you out. Maybe they will take you on a dream journey through their memories, maybe they’ll just offer some advice on voice projection, but they WILL be there.

This makes it twice as depressing when in reality, you wake up on the morning of your presentation and realize that you just spent the last few hours dreaming that you were being saved from a sinking cruise ship by your anthropology professor, who happened to be totally naked.

“And she’s not even dumb, in fact she’s kinda smart”

*

I dozed off in class today.
In my defense, my teacher has a very smooth and pleasant voice. He could narrate nature shows. Plus, the room was really warm, and the air felt comfortable and concentrated. I think it’s the soundproof walls. Whatever.

After I got startled awake, it took me a couple of seconds to remember generally one doesn’t need to clap at the end of the lecture. Luckily, I think my confused expression and maniac hair probably reassured my tutor that it was an involuntary tic and not any kind of outright mockery.

“Open my hands and let them weave onto yours”

*

A Winter’s Tale

I was calling my friend Becca when I got cut off
Dammit
(Better top  up, it’s been a while)
Get out my phone, text in my account number in order to top up my phone by 10pounds
Request denied
(what??)
Try again, probably just a typo
Request denied
(Oh no. There must be something up with my account. I must be out of money so it can’t process through!) Panicpanicpanic
(Go to the bank, check the balance!)
Get my shoes on, mouth suddenly dry and heart racing
(HOW could my account be empty?? I’ve been so CAREFUL. I feel like I’ve barely spent ANYTHING. God, how unaware am I? Am I just spending money constantly WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT? Like that time I took Ambien and then bought all those weird necklaces online and totally DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER DOING IT??)
Throw on my coat – it’s still freezing out there in the dark – and grab my keys
Run
Run
(Oh man, what if this is one of those things where someone steals your identity and sucks your accounts dry on fripperous purchases?? What if, RIGHT NOW, there’s some lady who looks kind of like me and she’s buying expensive perfume, and chicken and pearls, and using MY money to pay for them, and she’s LAUGHING BECAUSE I’LL NEVER FIND HER??)
Run
Run
Realize there’s a dude running behind me. Check to see if he’s running just cos, or if he’s actually chasing me.
He isn’t chasing me, he’s pulling up next to me…and now he’s past me. He’s tall and gangly and blonde with little glasses. His headphones are flapping as he gallops.
(Wait, why am I running? My speed isn’t going to change the outcome)
Slow to a slightly panicked walk, aware that I probably look like a constipated old lady.
Almost at the corner, the lights of Unthank Road glow, fighting the dark sky which is now spitting out a light snow that clings to my face.
Turn the corner, approach the cash machine
Put in my details, request 20pounds and a receipt to check my balance.
Wait, holding breath, as machine makes a whirring noise, then
Gives me 20pounds!
(Hooray!)
And my receipt
Which says that my balance is normal, I have plenty of money. I’m not secretly spending in my sleep, nor has my identity been stolen by some shady character.
(Nice one.)
Walk back, more sedately, although it’s boob-shrivellingly COLD out so not too sedately. Pace similar to that of a pigeon.
Snow falls gently and persistently, tiny little white specks turning orange when they whirl past the streetlamps
(Wait a minute. Did I put in the right number in the first place? I typed in the first 4 digits of my card…then the amount…then the security code. That’s right isn’t it?)
Stop
(NO IT’S NOT. THE ACCOUNT NUMBER IS THE *LAST* FOUR DIGITS OF YOUR CARD NUMBER, THEN THE AMOUNT, THEN THE SECURITY CODE. NOT THE FIRST. THE LAST. THAT’S WHY IT WAS WRONG. MORON.)
Walk all the rest of the way home giggling uncontrollably, not sure whether I should be more thankful at my good fortune, or dismayed at my general incompetence.

THE END

“The valley’s gonna cure your every ill”

*

Headline outside newsagents today:

FIRST SPRING LAMBS – PICTURES

Oh Norfolk, I love you and your lack of real news

“I think he’d like to have been Ronnie Kray, but then nature didn’t make him that way”

*

Watching an Nsync music video

Eleanor: You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually said this out loud, but I love Justin Timberlake.
Jess: Yeah
Eleanor: I think I just realized it when he was kissing that lady onscreen and I felt jealous. NO Justin Timberlake, stay away from her! Come kiss me!
Jess: Maybe we should kiss each other to make HIM jealous!

“We can live on misbehavior”

*

I’ve been hearing a lot of negative comments floating around along the lines of ”who is stupid enough to pay 20 bucks for a Snuggie when all it is is a backwards bathrobe??”

Ok, first of all, it’s not cool to show jealousy in such a blatant way. Y’all are obviously just not Snuggied-up and warm, and as a result, it’s making you bitter.

But secondly, smart guy, consider this:
If a Snuggie is a backwards bathrobe, then a BACKWARDS Snuggie is a REGULAR bathrobe. And as anyone knows who actually OWNS a Snuggie, if you put it on backwards, it doesn’t look like a bathrobe, it looks like a weird cape for losers.

I rest my case.

“Grass grows green”

*

In my dream last night, I had bought a couple of mice and put them in a box. Three minutes later I check the box and HOLY CRAP where did all these mice come from?? I mean, I know mice breed fast but COME ON. So I move the mice to more boxes, but the same thing happens, and suddenly I’m in way over my head, with boxes full of rodents that are multiplying faster than I can handle. And then some of the mice escape, and I’m seeing little darting shapes out of the corner of my eye, tiny things, brown and white and fawn coloured, creeping across the floor. And then, just to make matters worse, I accidently stomp a couple of these escaped baby mice with my boots while I’m trying to sort the situation out. And now there’s dead baby mouse in my Doc Marten treads, and I can SEE more of the little bastards trying to chew their way out of the boxes that surround me and there’s nothing I can do, it’s all happening too fast. This progresses for some time until there are little tiny mouse corpses littering the floor and I feel terrible. The room is filled with desperate squeaking and scratching. I hold one of the dead ones in my hand, it’s smaller than my thumb, and I cry and cry.

Basically, I’m pretty sure the universe is giving me a sign to start working a full time career in childcare.

“I fell in love with the first cute girl that I met who could appreciate Georges Bataille”

*

The Nelson Family Do a Christmas Puzzle Together

“Did you actually just SPIT IN MY MOUTH?!”