Cynicism!

Cynicism is, in most cases, a good thing. It helps us to think clearly when we are in danger of forgetting how pathetically lamentable most human beings actually are, and how small and without consequence our place in the world is. It is what spares us from an embarrassing embrace of “attraction” (if you die of cancer or AIDs, it’s because you weren’t thinking good enough thoughts; thoughts are like magnets you know, and the universe cares about what happens to you).

I don’t know how many of you have been spared the leeching rhetoric of Mr. Steve Pavlina, esq., but for those of you who haven’t, I have just stumbled upon a fine antidote. I especially liked this article, since it sums up everything which I think is noxious about Pavvy (as I’m sure his friends call him) and his original site.
His brand of “Unhappiness is your own fault with a capital U, and why don’t you donate to my site while you’re at it” moralising makes me feel quite nauseous and is, I think, a far worse kind of cynicism than anything I could offer.

Japan seems to have a choice of prawn (not prawn cocktail alas; they just taste mildly fishy), seaweed, pizza(?), or plain. Why is it only Brits who have fully embraced the true potential of the crisp? I remember living in France and all you could get was paprika, cheese or plain. Before that was Germany, where you couldn’t even find cheese flavour! Pathetic!

I often have the “what flavour crisps would you buy right now?” debate with K. He usually ends up going for cheese and onion. I hover between s&v, pickled onion, or worcester sauce, though I’m also quite partial to spring onion. God, I’m salivating at the very thought!
_{The other day we discussed “what would you have if you were at the chippy right now?”, and K said pizza!! That’s what a year in exile will do for you. Poor love…}

..okay, listened to, a discussion between a Scot and an American about the relative dangers of US football and rugby. The Scottish guy made the point that actually, rugby is safer because of its lack of padding and other protective gear. Everyone on the pitch knows that they have to take responsibility for their own and other’s safety – it’s a lot less reckless, because the players don’t believe that everyone is wearing impenetrable armour which will protect them from stupid tackles. High tackling is totally unacceptable, and people don’t launch themselves at other people trying to hurt them, because they are aware of the serious damage they could do, or could be done to them. As a result the tackles become more refines and less a matter of brute force.
He also suggested that’s why rugby players are, in general, more sportsman like that football players (US or soccer), because they know that the other players could easily break their neck if they wanted to. Collective vulnerability makes for a safer and more responsible sport, said my Scottish friend.
The American just looked a little confused and said that if you didn’t have as much padding, you might get hurt.
My friend changed the conversation back to the unseasonably wet weather.

I LOVE ikea! It’s everything that a faceless international corporation should be! I used to spend hours flicking through the catalogues and envisaging my dream house right down to the smallest detail.
I used to live with a girl who was half-Swedish so we often went to the ikea in Leeds so that she could buy her Swedish flat breads. She used to beat me if I pronounced it eye-kea though. The Scandies call it icky-ya, don’t you know.

had to cancel a night out with a friend to go and make up with my (now ex-) boyfriend after a fight we’d just had over the phone. I was pissed off about missing the night out, so I sent my friend a text saying I couldn’t make it because Mr.boyfriend, as usual, was being a f*cking knob. A few minutes later I got a text back from Mr.boyfriend saying “I think you might have sent that to the wrong person”. Oops!

shoe shoe sock sock, obviously.

I don’t wear lace up shoes here because of the indoor/ outdoor shoe thing, and anyway I haven’t tied my laces since I was about eight years old and had the brilliant revelation that I could just pull my trainers on and off without wasting valuable time on tying and untying.
But if, in some crazy parallel universe, I were to tie my shoes, I’m pretty sure I would go shoe shoe tie tie.

That, after all, is the sensible way.

Quite staggering that you had to tell her at all, really! Who doesn’t come into work without calling?! _{Lousy student workers…}

fresh orange juice.

In fairness, it is just gone 9am. I’ll have had them all by the end of the day, don’t you worry.

We were quite the family of paupers when I was growing up, and had fresh veg maybe once a week. The rest of the time it was baked beans or frozen stuff which my mum used to get cheap from the factory near where she worked. Fresh juice was absolutely out of the question. Sometimes we would get fruit as a very special treat, at Christmas or on someone’s birthday.
I guess part of the reason why I love fruit and veg so much is that for me, they were always a luxury which I associated with great feelings of wonder and excitement.

So maybe the best way to encourage people to eat more f&v is to deny it to them when they’re younger?! :)

Seriously, I do think parents should stop trying to force them on kids, like a bartering chip or something nasty to be endured (eat your veg or you don’t get any pudding). That’s hardly going to encourage a healthy attitude. Eating fruit and veg should be rewarding in itself!
Maybe it also helped that we were a CBBC household, not CITV, so we were exposed to a lot less “eat this shit” advertising.

I finished the hot water bottle cover, which is exceptionally stylish, even if I say so myself. Unfortunately, I can’t show you the picture because in moving house I have cunningly mislaid the connection thing between camera and computer and cannot upload photos.
It is mostly shocking pink with a thick grey stripe across the centre of each side, and three lovely grey buttons at the bottom to fasten it up. All stockinette, apart from the neck, which was ribbing, and the “entrance” which was garter.

I’m now continuing the shocking pink theme with a shocking pink vest top in p2k1 ribbing. I’m hoping to be able to wear it in a preppy (yet thrifty) fashion over shirts and such in the autumn. Hopefully, that will be the end of the shocking pink wool. I got a big bag of it from the receptionist at my old job about a year ago, and have been simultaneously grateful and alarmed by the colour every since.

The bag also contained a little bit of grey wool, hence the grey stripes on the hot water bottle cover. After that, I still had a ball and a bit left, so thought I would attempt a lacy grey shrug, but it turns out I’m not going to have enough for that and was forced to unravel. That’s when I began the pink vest outing. I did really like the idea of a grey shrug though (grey is such an underrated colour), so when I’ve finished the vest I’ll go to the yarn shop and see if I can pick up some soft grey to reattempt the shrug.

September! Now there’s a scary word!

Chatted with K again last night and decided on the following meals, in no particular order.

• veggie lasagne
• chahan and roasted veg
• leek and potato soup (K is going to cook this one all by himself!)
• pasta and left over roasted veg (also K’s responsibility: surely even he can cook a pan of pasta and then heat up a tupperware box of vegetables and add it as a sauce _{although, we were similarly optimistic about his ability to make egg fried rice last week, but three eggs and half a kilo of rice later, all we had was a very messy bin and a bowl each of emergency noodles} )
• veg curry, since I made so much chilli that we didn’t need to make it last week

SHOPPING LIST: tinned tomatoes, pasta shapes (am barred from eating spaghetti as I can no longer prevent myself from slurping at it as if it were noodles…how moose integrated back into polite society I’ll never know), milk, mushrooms, spuds, aubergine, pumpkin, tomatoes.
Also plums, if they’re going cheap, because I have an inkling that I might make crumble later in the week; and tinned fruit to keep K happy.