I went for an interview in London last week. Being back on the Kent to London commute, I felt like I’d never been away.
It’s been six years.
Having recently graduated, my options were start at the bottom of a new ladder at half the salary I left London on, or go back to the same rung and see if my attempt at ‘bettering myself’ had made a difference.
As the days count down to the big 4-0, I find myself thinking more and more about my childhood. I know I’m not about to be put into an old people’s home any time soon (note to the kids – you dare), but I think it’s natural to reminisce. As I squint my eyes in the mirror to give that necessary soft focus effect and slather my face with increasingly expensive moisturiser, I repeat my daily mantra: “40 is NOT old, 40 is NOT old,” and just pray to the God of L’Oreal.
I watched Sky One’s version of X Factor last night, ‘Must Be The Music,’ with some modicum of scepticism. I’m not a fan of the X Factor, the sob stories bore me rigid, but I can still appreciate the sheer balls of the people who have the courage to get up on stage to do their thing. I mean, we can’t all be good singers, right?! (Joke, by the way. Although, in the car, I sound amazing.)
A band from Essex came on and sang a song called, “Made in England.” Having recently watched the film, ‘This Is England’, about skinheads, White Nationalists and racism, my teenage son and I looked at each other and held our breath.
Was this song created for the terraces? Can you sing about being proud to be English without any underlying tone? Does the band’s young age indicate that a new generation are more or less xenophobic than the last? Continue reading “An Inconvenient Truth”
I always go to bed at 8 o’clock. My mum says that if I brush my teeth and get my pyjamas on at half past seven, I can stay up and watch Coronation Street with her. I’m not really bothered about watching it, it’s for old people, they all talk in a weird accent and not a lot really happens; besides, I much prefer Magpie, but The Street, as Mum calls it, makes her laugh and that’s what I like to stay up for.
As soon as the credits roll and The Street is replaced by The Bill, I have to make sure I’m in bed, ready for her to come up and tuck me in. She says I’m too old for stories now, but I think it’s the tucking in I’m too old for. I don’t tell her that though because she gets upset easily these days and I don’t want to set her off if I can help it. Continue reading “‘Crocodiles Are Easy To Make’ (Part One)”
It’s fair to say that if Michael Caine appears on the credits of a film, chances are it’s a safe bet it’s going to be pretty decent. In fact, half the actors only agreed to partake in this film because he was in it. Nuff said. But the WitWitWoo is skeptical. And needs to stop talking about herself in the 3rd person. Moving on …
Take Gran Turino – someone, please take Gran Turino! (Boom Boom!) An almost identical storyline. Ex-military vigilante pensioner takes on the local scumbag youths terrorizing the neighbourhood (as you do) but even Clint Eastwood couldn’t save this film. I got suckered in on the premise he’d also directed the film and, Million Dollar Baby being one of my all-time favourite films, I mistakingly thought everything Mr Eastwood touched turned to gold. Not so. The acting was hammy, the ‘authentic street’ dialogue was just one racist remark after another and, by the end, I wanted to rip my eyes out so I didn’t have to watch it anymore. Continue reading “Harry Brown vs. Gran Turino”
There I was, casually walking past Boots the Chemist, and no, not on the way to Burger King … when I had the urge to weigh myself. I rarely feel like doing that – it normally means one thing, that I feel like I’ve lost weight and I’m pretty confident of a positive result.
I last did this in 2008.
I’ve lost another 5lbs. Well, how about that then ….
The image of this poor girl still haunts me. I have to force myself to read about victims like Sarah because it’s important I remain informed, however painful. My pain at reading about abuse victims is nothing compared to that of the pain that Sarah’s mother, and parents like her, have to live with every day.
So when I read that Sarah’s Law (the UK’s equivalent to America’s Megan’s Law) was being piloted in four police force areas, I had mixed feelings. I knew it was a good thing. I don’t believe paeodophiles have any right to anonymity and that anything that can be done to reduce the revolting crimes they perpetrate, has to be done. Continue reading “Sarah’s Law – The Time has Come”
I have an eclectic taste in magazines. Were I to allow someone to look at what I buy (never gonna happen), I’m not quite sure what they would say about me. Intelligent? Nosey? Hungry?
Psychologies, my favourite magazine at the moment: a mix of book and film reviews, issues on the mind, body and soul, a monthly in-depth interview with a female actress, psychological tests (although, NB. to Psychologies, far too many tests – who has the time!?), money advice, sex advice and even the obligatory recipe or two at the back (further NB to Psychologies – please send my commission to my usual PO Box). Continue reading “Come a Little Closer …”