I caught the penalty shoot-out of the Olympics Ice Hockey match between Russia and the USA. I quite like Ice Hockey. It’s fast. As I was watching, I remembered when my partner and I used to play street hockey. We’d pop on our roller-blades, grab our street hockey sticks and ball and just race up and down the road in a frenzy of bumping bodies, tangled limbs, clashing sticks, and knocking knee-pads. We lived in a dead-end street at the time so we didn’t have to stop for traffic.
It was some of the best fun we ever had. And it gets you fit too!
I got my roller-blades out of the cupboard a couple of months ago with the intention of going to our local tennis court for the purposes of getting some exercise. I’d love to play hockey again but my partner has had shoulder surgery and his left knee is a bit dodgy after a motorbike accident, so he can’t play hockey at the moment.
The roller-blades made it out of the cupboard, but not out of the bag. I look at them guiltily each time I go into the spare room.
But the Ice Hockey has inspired me. So maybe, just maybe, they’ll find their way back onto my feet!
Love is nice. And setting a day aside each year to force people to celebrate it can’t be a bad thing.
We go through our days on auto-pilot, so it’s nice to get shaken out of our reverie every now and then. Our birthday’s offer the same break from dullsville. And we’ve got Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s Eve. All good opportunities to feel the love and feel some joy.
I know that a lot of people moan about how Valentine’s Day is just one great big commercial enterprise that should be banned immediately because greed is bad and chocolate manufacturers are exploiting us. But we could say the same about every celebration. Someone, somewhere, is making sales. But isn’t that what makes the world go around?
We shouldn’t let commercialism turn us into a miserable, cynical lot. Love is never wrong. And if Valentine’s Day gives us permission to demonstrate it, then so be it.
My partner and I will be celebrating our love via the sharing of choc-chip hot cross buns. See that, we get two festivities rolled into one!
So to all those out there who love love – have yourselves a magical day ♥
There is an idea out there in the world that is held up as being a universal truth that all women prefer ‘bad’ boys.
So I ask, Do they? Do women really like ‘bad’ boys?
I don’t know.
I’m a woman and I can only speak for myself, but I definitely don’t. I think ‘bad’ boy types are wankers – all piss and importance and ugly arrogance. And they’re usually incredibly selfish. I struggle to find the appeal in that, the same way a man would struggle to find such a woman attractive.
I like men who like women. I like men who appreciate women. They don’t have to like every individual woman they come across. Even I don’t like them all. But, in general terms, I like a man who enjoys the unique qualities of a woman; the things that set her apart from a man.
I like a man who doesn’t talk-down to women or treat them rough. Mean is not cool. It’s just mean. I can’t imagine that all the parents out there raised their daughters just so they could go off and be treated badly by someone. I have nieces and I pray they find partners who love them, treat them kindly, hug them lots, and enhance their happiness and their lives.
Bad boys are not for me so I just ask that I stop being lumped in with the ‘likes’ and ‘preferences’ of ‘all women everywhere’ just because I’m female. We are actually a diverse lot with eclectic tastes.
And … while I’m on it, not all of us like shopping either! Or dream of a fairy tale wedding. Or … the list goes on.
I hate fishing shows. I hate the way they purposely set out to get a fish to bite a barbed hook which brutally tears into its flesh and then reel the poor thing in, pulling on that hook which must be causing excruciating pain.
Usually after quite a fight, the fish is yanked out of the water and held aloft for the camera. The hook is removed and the fish gasps for life while the super-proud angler describes why it’s a beauty and how catching one like this is a great achievement.
Many photos later, and after what must feel like an eternity to the fish, it’s tossed back in the water and the process starts all over again.
To mean it just seems so cruel and so bloody unnecessary.
I understand the food chain, but just hooking fish for the purposes of ‘entertainment’ is beyond my comprehension.
I always end up coming back to: if humans were treated like that, the outrage would be palpable and we’d seek our revenge.
How I wish our empathy was as developed as our commercialism.
How’s this, the word STOP can be rearranged into:
A Macaroon Glares! Oops, I mean – anagrams are cool!
I was looking up a word in the dictionary and spotted this one:
contumely: n., pl. –lies. 1. Scornful or insulting language or behaviour. 2. A humiliating insult. – contumelious adj. – contumeliously adv.
I have never heard this word used. Considering its meaning is something that happens quite a lot, why don’t we hear it bandied about a bit more?
How would you use it? “She was known for her frequent contumelies.”
No wonder it’s not in common use. Too fucking hard to use the bastard thing in a sentence!!