Make mine a Cosmo

As those of you on Twitter and Facebook know - Friday was a mucho exciting day for me....Cosmo blog award nomination!  Obviously, it's a very, very long shot to make the shortlist, but I'm chuffed to bits about even being in the competition.  Some of you have voted already which is just fantastic - thank you so much.  For those of you who haven't, the cheque should be along shortly.  

A few friends have asked me how the voting works and from what I understand August is the month for nominations, after that a shortlist is decided and then the winners are judged from that.  I think it's 50% panel, 50% voters decision.  I am nominated in the "Lifestyle sponsored by Handpicked Media" category, so you need to select that from the dropdown menu, as well as sticking in your email and the reason why you like my blog (not sure if you should mention that I'm bribing you.)  The link is here or you can click on the big ignorant button on the right hand column.  

Thank you again for those of you who have voted already - please do tell friends, family and enemies (if you really don't like my blog) to come on here and have a read.  For those of you who do read regularly and have a Google, Yahoo or Twitter account you can become a "member" (I'm working on the badges) and enjoy a 10% discount with whoever I bribe to sponsor / advertise here....I'm thinking of either a pants company (Bridget Jones style) or a manufacturer of stress balls to counteract the ranting.  Thoughts, ideas or addresses of unsuspecting companies welcome!   

"Sustainability"

As evidenced on Twitter today I had a bit of spat with an associate at a meeting which I'd like to go into in minute, excruciatingly boring detail for all of those who weren't *lucky* enough to be a rock on my Twitter stream today.  Many (I am an eternal optimist) of you know that I am in the field of sustainability - I actually had to fight the urge there not to put the word in inverted commas à la most people who introduce me at meetings.  It turns out that if you work in the area of trying-not-to-bugger-everything-up-for-everyone-else you get your very own punctuation with your title - thankfully the ickle baby speech marks aren't as heavy as the tree we're expected to cart round with us at all times for impromptu hugging sessions or padlocking emergencies.

The spat stemmed from a simple - though evidently highly hypocritical - action of mine.  Imagine the scene: ten of us, small meeting room, smaller window, typical British summer weather outside (lashing rain and force ten gales) - so I, in all my wisdom, turned the lights on.  Cue the "witty" and clearly rehearsed "Ooooh! Turning the lights on, are we?? Thought you were into "sustainability!"  Yes, because clearly this bestows infrared vision on all of us treehuggers.  I'm pretty used to most people finding the whole concept of "saving the planet" at best new age-y and barefoot, at worst some sort of hare-brained, dope-fuelled scheme thought up by Swampy to steal money from innocent, tax paying citizens.  I am the first to admit that the science is confusing and can seem contradictory - but the root of it, to try and ensure that future generations aren't igniting their farts to keep warm isn't exactly a hangable offence, is it?

As you can imagine, the recent cold winters have been particularly frosty for us "green people" - "Global warming?? You're having a laugh!" as they shake the snow off their boots and try to stab us with the nearest icicle.  "Climate change, it's called climate change actually" can be heard, muttered, through the gritted teeth of fellow "environmental types."

Whether we've had an effect on global temperatures through our flagrant disregard for the laws of nature and our out and out greed is a matter for debate - whether we're using up our natural resources at a blistering pace is not.  Us eco-warriors aren't out to get you, steal your money, brainwash innocent children and puppies - making the world a better place is a bit grand, but even so, it's not exactly a bad aspiration. And what if we go all out to try and achieve this and it turns out the science wasn't right?  Well, I think this cartoon sums it up perfectly:

Planes, Pants and Plonkers

It happened again.  Honestly.  And this time it wasn't just a dangling bra from a misbehaving backpack.  Oh no.  This time I was wearing my underwear when I flashed it.  I think I should start at the beginning of the day – which was horrendously early (4am) as I had an early flight to catch.  Those of you who know me know I am not the keenest flier, although am a frequent one.  Super combination.

At this point I should apologise for the tone and general rantishness of this post as it has to be said that I was in absolutely poisonous form as I started writing this on the plane at stupid o’clock.  And my mood hasn't got any less noxious (or is that obnoxious) as the day has passed.  So far today I have managed to flash my underwear at an entire planeful of people whilst boarding a Skeezyjet flight, I’ve also made someone cry (an adult, before you ask – I’m not Satan), I had a phone meeting with someone at even stupider o’clock, which I managed to intelligently do by video whilst wearing not a scrap of make-up.  To top it all off there is a child in front of me with the worst verbal diarrhea I have ever heard – I think he is literally practising every word he has ever learnt and his parents are letting him.  Does anyone have a Diazepam?

The underwear incident was because I decided to wear a nice summer dress to try and fool myself into being in a good mood.  Which was actually sort of working until I paid (really bad) homage to Marilyn Monroe and it blew up over my head as I walked towards the airstairs.  Incidentally, I just Googled to find out the name of said airstairs and found some Yahoo Answers thread with the question “How do you board a plane?”  That has actually raised the first smile of the day for me.  I mean, I’m used to the twits who, when they reach security, gawp at the airport employee who asks them to effectively strip down to their underwear to pass through the metal detector, then gasp at the prospect of not bringing their ten gallon bottle of Coke and finally look well put out when asked to surrender their machine gun.  I have managed to stop sighing annoyingly loudly – I do know it’s annoying – I stopped because I was annoying myself and I am working on not asking out loud if they’ve been living in a cave for the past 10 years.  But that people would need to ask how to board a plane is a new one for me – I clicked on it to find out the answer (for research purposes obviously) and absolutely loved the answer “You walk into the inside of it, find your seat and sit down.”

To think that the anti-venom for my day was so easily and amusingly sourced – thank you Yahoo.

Dear self

I've read a few things recently about writing a letter for yourself to open in ten years or writing a letter to your fifteen year old self, etc, etc. It got me thinking about what we worry about as it seems that telling your 15 / 40 year old self that you're worrying about nothing is the point of the exercise. I find that a lot of the time I worry about exactly the same things as I worried about when I was 15 and I can't see that changing. Granted I've added a few things to the list...muffin tops and mortgages to mention a few and taken a few away - for example I no longer worry about not having money for drinking...give me a little credit - I have learned the art of prioritising over the years. Equally, the thought of not having someone to sit with at lunch doesn't send me to the toilets to hide with embarrassment. At the ripe old (unsociable) age of 28 I'm more likely to hide in the toilets to avoid sitting with someone at lunch - although I do work with engineers (sorry guys.)

I wish I could tell myself at 15 not to worry what people think, but she'd smartly retort that I still do. My teenage self would love my disposable income & the luxury of buying shoes, accessories & wine if not when I want at least as long as my plastic stays fantastic (gracias señor Visa!) but she'd hate having a mortgage & bills to pay each month. Oh yeah, so do I. And as for what my 40 year old self would say to my mid (okay late) twenties self it would probably be along the lines of "Stop whinging, you lunatic, you never had it so good" Who knows where or what I'll be in 12 years time, so I can't reliably predict my advice...maybe I'll have witnessed, felt & marvelled (!) at the ability of the female body to...er...expand & retract, in which case I might be more tolerant of screaming toddlers who aren't my relations. Or I might be a raging alcoholic. If that's the case I'm not quite sure what my advice might be to my current self..."Atta girl!" perhaps as I enjoy a spritzer or two with friends?!

The point of this rambling post is not to convince you of my insanity, insecurity or ofttimes inebriation (though I think you'll agree I'm doing a super job of it) but rather to say that I worried then, I worry now and I'm pretty sure I'll worry in the future. I've often heard it said that when you look back you'll regret the things you didn't do rather than the things you did. Hmmm, I wonder if Messieurs Schwarznegger, Galliano & Gibson subscribe to that view? But I'm probably being harsh, I mean who doesn't have a few love children or anti-Semitic skeletons in their closet? I think what these gentlemen (!) regret is being caught...and possibly the invention of the Internet and it's associated ability to viralise their  indiscretions / disgusting racism in approximately 0.11 seconds.

Well, I think that's quite enough navel gazing / ranting for one morning...I'm off to check my closet.