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It’s Very Shit Darling

Hello my loves.

Remember me?

I used to write my little brain farts here. Until life got in the way.

I’ve got so much to tell you I don’t even really know where to begin. I went to Seattle for MozCon – and they let me on stage. To speak about SEO.

Which is foolhardy when you consider that despite three years of explanation, repetition, mime, and screaming ab-dabs I’ve still as yet been unable to explain to my Mum what the hell SEO is.

Fortunately I was standing up in front of 500 SEOs which made the task somewhat easier (mainly because they don’t stop you half way through to ask what SEO stands for), plus I was armed with ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ mugs, fridge magnets and snowglobes to make the audience love me give away.

Also on my side was my British accent; which I’m reliably informed by Geraldine makes me instantly one of the smartest people in the room (or at least sound like one of the smartest people in the room which is definitely almost the same thing). Oh and that British accent also raised my hotness by like a million percent. It’s official. I am so much hotter in America. I might move there*.

Plus it was double-awesome to finally meet Kate. We got to spend some time working on our respective presentations on Tuesday which was fab. Mid (my) spiel I saw her in the crowd and said ‘Hi Kate’ and waved. (Just an FYI – it’s probably best not to do that when you’re supposed to be presenting – it’s not particularly professional – I’ve watched loads of TED talks and none of them do it.) I thought I’d got away with it, but it apparently did upset at least one attendee. We’ll call him drunk, creepy guy because that’s how he chose to behave at the first night drinks thingy**.

Anywho it was great. I met some really lovely people (you totally know who you are), and ass-hattery was definitely kept to a minimum. Oh and I learned a lot too. Let’s call that winning.

What else? I’ve been to four weddings (and no funerals). I’ve two more weddings to go. 2011 will definitely go down in my calendar as the year of the wedding. I find it really difficult to articulate quite how I feel about all these weddings. Is it ok to be happy-sad at weddings? I’m not sure that says anything good about me. I think maybe I’ll talk more about them in another post.

Closer to home they’ve ruined my local Tesco. Which makes me hate them even more than I did before.

One of the many improvements they’ve made include:

  1. Stocking far less product that they used to before.
  2. Dumb fridges with doors on that mean that you can’t get your grubby mitts on the stuff that you want to buy because there’s some indecisive, pain in the ass idiot in your way.
  3. A total re-layout of the store so you can’t find anything.
  4. Self-checkouts which prevent you from purchasing anything more than 4 items on account of the bagging area being baffling small, and removing anything from the bagging area causes alarms to be raised and you’ll be treated like the tea leaf you almost certainly are not.
Because I’m pathetically lame these things bother me more than they should. When I was younger I used to go out and have fun, now to replace what’s missing in my life, apparently I whine about supermarkets. This makes me hate myself. In order to make me feel better about myself I like to project on to Tesco.

I would go and get help for this issue only:

  1. I don’t believe in psychologists (even though I’m pretty sure they do exist).
  2. I don’t really earn enough to afford a psychologist.
  3. Psychologists scare me because I suspect that their proximity to emotionally disturbed people might make them emotionally disturbed.
  4. They may project their own emotional disturbance on to me, which in turn may my exacerbate my issue with Tesco.
Over lunch yesterday I was telling my Mum how shit the new Tesco was. Her response?
Yes, it’s very shit darling.

Yep – looks like I managed to bore even my own mother.

We then went on to talk about who I should take to my brother wedding. (Did I mention that my ickle bro’s is one of the six weddings that I’m going to this year? – Well I have now.)  We were discussing who I should take as my +1 as my best buddy Stevie Plunder can’t make it. My Mum was pro me taking a male friend. This pissed me off because I get all high and mighty about being single lately. (I’m not sure why this is.) Male escorts were debated at length but eventually discounted (my Mum was broadly positive about the idea – I think this may have been a clever piece of reverse-psychology, not that I was particularly serious about it in any case.)

In other news my ickle Mummy until today thought that Kindles were called Kimbles. As in Richard Kimble the Fugative. I swear to God she’s so on her way to being a meme. I should probably quit my job right now and just devote my life to documenting her online.

And now I’m rambling. It’s kinda late, and I’m kinda tired so I’m going to hit the hay.

It’s very shit that I’ve been so remiss and left it so long darlings.

I missed you xxx

*Yes this makes me very shallow.
**It’s not so much that this guy doesn’t have a point, it’s more that he was very drunk and creepy. In my experience if you want to make a serious point it’s important to at least try not to be drunk when doing so. I’m not sure if you can help being creepy, but if you can try and keep your creepiness in check you may find less people give you weird looks and/or mouth ‘help me’ at their friends and/or pretend they need to get another drink / go to the toilet just to escape you.


You know what?

Sometimes you might be sad…

Somedays you’ll wish and hope and think and maybe even pray.

But maybe, because you’ve never been god fearing… He won’t hear you.

Don’t worry.

I can hear it.

I feel sad too.

Keep your pecker up baby. I’m listening,

Not that I think I’m God or nothin’. I’m just sad like you x

This just might be the stage they call anger. Well, I’m cross. Bring it.

Stop All the Clocks

Dear hearts, Nanny died today.

I dearly hope you’ll join me in raising a toast to a fabulous human being.

Death in this instance is happy-sad.

Words rarely fail me, the verbose little bitch that I am… But, in this instance I’ve elected to re-purpose (she’s for he’s) what was an already marvellous poem by W.H. Auden. I’d like to think he’d be totally cool with that.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message she Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Even a Stopped Clock Shows the Correct Time Twice a Day

Acts of sheer human will are rare, beautiful and fantastic.

For the last few years my Nanna has suffered from dementia. Dementia robbed us of the woman we loved, adored and respected.

But in the last few days, she’s come back.

My Nanna can’t talk, can’t walk, can’t feed herself. She can no longer communicate.

It’s been a long time coming, but perhaps now she feels it’s time.

… She won’t eat or drink.

Feed her? She’ll open her mouth and push the food out with her tongue. Try to get her to drink, she’ll open her mouth and let the liquid dribble from her lips.

Attractive? No.

But as an act of human will it’s beautiful to me.

I like to think that a part of the woman she once was has fought the dementia and won.

She can control nothing… But this.

Maybe tomorrow it’ll all be over and she’ll give in to it; she’ll eat and drink again.

But sad and strange as it sounds I really hope she holds on, that she continues on the nil by mouth path.

Even though in doing so, she’ll take herself away from us entirely. Because the truth is, she’s been gone for for years.

For years she’s been an empty shell.

And even though I’ll miss her, I’m really glad that I got to see the proud, strong, wonderful woman she was, one more time.

Christmas Day… The Results Show

I’m partying it up in Disneyland right now, but thanks to the wonders of modern technology I can schedule posts to go live – so it’s like I’m still here… Man, I’m good to you guys 😉

…Erm, and apologies to those who were hoping for some peace and quiet.

You may remember that I made some resolutions for Christmas Day; and I did promise a results post – so here goes:

I’ll not get completely wasted on Christmas Eve – typically I’ve a mean hangover on Christmas Day. As a result I think my temper gets frayed more quickly. (NB – this is going to be a tough one to keep)

Well I did say it was going to be a tough one to keep… and I completely failed. I was wasted on Christmas Eve; however, I somehow wasn’t hungover – go me! Instead I think I had some kind of viral thing (I probably knocked my immune system for six with alcohol); so I was achy, shivery cold all day, had to wear about ten jumpers, and kept whacking the thermostat up whenever my Mummy was looking the other way. Consequently everyone else was sweating buckets – uh oh.

I’ll not sweat the small stuff – someone will inevitably say something offensive (it’s normally my Mum – she suffers with foot in mouth disease); but I’ll do my best not to react. In the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter.

Hmmm, I think I managed this one. As I recall though, there were very few mean comments made…

I’ll go for a short walk on Christmas Day – ideally alone, but I won’t behave like an ass if someone wants to come with me. See, I find Christmas Day kind of claustrophobic – too many people stuck in a stuffy house. I figure if I can escape – even if it’s only for 20 minutes I’ll be a much nicer person when I come back.

Nope – complete fail here – couldn’t get warm inside so there was no way I was going outside.

I’ll not sulk when I don’t get to watch what I want on TV – (this probably comes under not sweating the small stuff)

Managed this one! I kept failing asleep in front of the TV anyways. Also nobody moaned about me wanting to watch Strictly Come Dancing, and that’s all I wanted to watch.

I’ll try not to get too drunk on Christmas Day – chez Smith, Christmas is VERY boozy, but too much drink always leads to stupid arguments

Managed this one too! Although, again this may have been because I was shivery etc.

I’ll not be disappointed when my Dad doesn’t come to surprise me (I know, I *really* need to get over that one!)

Well he didn’t come, but he did call and we got to have a proper chat which was really good. The child in me might still have been a bit disappointed but I think it’s an improvement.

I’ll not resent my brother (even though he gets off *really* lightly at Christmas – see I’m doing it again 🙂 )

Yep managed this one too! Me am the best… Also, I have to admit to doing next to nothing on Christmas Day apart from disappearing to curl up under my duvet and find more jumpers.

I will not show off by knowing the answers to all the cracker jokes – instead I will let whoever’s reading the jokes read the punchline… Then laugh, even if the joke’s rubbish

This one should have been easy, but I’m ashamed to admit I failed. I did answer at least one of the cracker jokes… I’m hanging my head in shame right now. 

I will wear my paper hat from my cracker even though they make my head itch, look ridiculous and are always too big

I did it! And I didn’t moan – me am de best!

I *will* have a good time!

You know what? I think I did. I felt pretty poorly which was a shame, but it was a really nice day. I also got loads of really lovely presents and I got to watch Strictly Come Dancing.


So, to recap. Out of a possible 10 resolutions, I succeeded in keeping about 7. Which isn’t bad, right?

Please feel free to make me feel like a better person by sharing your failings this Christmas…