Liverpool, 22nd February 2012. The Rodewauld Suite at the Philharmonic. Miles Hunt and Erica Nockalls. Moment of revelation.
This was only the second time I'd been to see Miles and Erica, saw them here 12 months ago and it was a strange experience having never heard any Wonder Stuff songs acoustically except on the documentary video Welcome to the Cheap Seats.
At that point, The last time I'd even seen Miles Hunt he'd had short hair. Last year he was sporting the shoulder length mid way point of hair growth and I remember laughing at myself when he got up on stage because he'd been stood at the bar for ages watching Ian Prowse and I'd been looking right at him assuming he was a girl. Now is that anyway to treat your long time teenage hero?
This year there was no mistaking Miles Hunt when he appeared at the bar. The longer tresses of the 90s poster pin up that had adorned my walls and ok maybe 20 years older but with the same boyish face and dimples. It's been a long time since Miles Hunt looked, to me, like Miles Hunt. But there he was. And there in that small room, 20 years of growth and maturity peeled away and revealed a 15 year old girl agonising over whether to go over and ask for a photo.
During the show Miles and Erika worked their way through the Never Loved Elvis track list. Brilliant. I thought optimistically I might, for only the second time ever, hear Inertia performed live. But alas we didn't make it that far. The cow song was, of course, swerved in favour of Golden Green.
What I enjoy most about these shows is hearing the stories about how the songs were written, I especially enjoyed the Room 512 story because as a kid I'd worn out that segment of the Welcome to the Cheap Seats video listening to it, tried all kinds of methods of recording it onto a tape so I could listen to it on my Walkman, slightly muffled with the occasional interruption by a Hoover or my mum telling me to tidy my room.
Miles referred to the split of Wonder Stuff audiences - balding 40 something men who used to be hipsters and those that get excited when they hear size of a cow on come dine with me. I'm neither of those things. I was never in anyway cool and I don't watch come dine with me. But I will always have a soft spot for the cow song and the song with the comedian. I know it's uncool to admit in the world of Wonder Stuff fans but after 20 years of loving the Wonder Stuff I hope that old snobbery had gone...yes that's right 20 years. I was too young for Eight Legged Groove Machine and Hup...
The Wonder Stuff changed my life, maybe shaped my life in fact. As a kid I'd grown up with siblings spanning a 16 year age difference. I can still picture my sisters 7" vinyl case containing Culture Club, Yazoo, Wham, King, Matthew Wilder and my dads 3 long boxes of 7" records that he'd collected since he decided to buy every single record that went to number one from the date my oldest sister was born (I believe that was 'when my little girl is smiling' by The Drifters)
I was massively influenced by my brother, partly because I hoped that by copying my brother he would stop tormenting me and think I was kinda cool...7 years age difference and as the older and wiser sibling he saw right through my scheme and picked on me anyway. But he did get me into bands like Level 42 and Squeeze. Music was handed down in our family the way most families hand down clothes, my sisters would be into something and get my brother in to it who passed it to me. I had no knowledge as a kid of finding music, never listened to the radio, music was just what my family played me, and it was all awesome, spanning decades from the 50s up to present day.
What I was personally into was TV, specifically comedy. I gobbled up comedy, it was my passion. Harry Enfield, French and Saunders, The Young Ones. My first real cross over with music was when The Young Ones released Living Doll, I discovered this show on the radio where they counted down to the number one single of the week and me and my brother listened to see if it would be the young ones.
So I became vaguely aware of modern music but it mostly sounded a bit rubbish, I liked Michael Jackson but I mostly preferred the Jackson 5...you get the point.
So there I am, 13 years old and I've developed my newest obsession...Vic Reeves Big Night Out... I watched it so much that I could quote the entire episode of each show. When he started releasing records I started going into my local record shop to buy them and then Dizzy came out. Vic Reeves and the what? Never heard of them. But then why would I? They're a modern music group and I'm stuck firmly in a music time warp. I loved the song of course, already being a fan of the original by Tommy Roe, but secretly preferring the Vic Reeves version because Vic was my hero. The first "gig" I went to was around that time, it was at the Empire Theatre in Liverpool which probably already tells you all you need to know about my first gig....it was Gerry and the Pacemakers supported by Tommy Roe and Bobby Vee. Yeah that's right in the same year I got to see both versions of Dizzy performed live...although Vic Reeves was singing along to a backing track only bringing out the Wonder Stuff for the show that was being filmed.
I was quite taken with Miles Hunts tartan suit though. The Wonder Stuff were immediately ok by me. A few months later I was babysitting for my nephew one Saturday morning watching Going live or whatever Saturday morning kids show was on 20 years ago, and they were having some kind of phone vote for the best single and right at the end of the list was Size of a Cow. I heard The Wonder Stuff and recognised the long hair and dimply face of the singer and picked up the phone to vote...I was a tv child I did whatever it told me... All I knew of the cow song was a 10 second snippet but they got my vote because they were linked to Vic Reeves.
Around that time my school friend (also a Vic Reeves fan) and I started teaming up during drama class and developed comedy routines for all the tasks we were set. I was convinced we would grow up to become a comedy duo like French and Saunders. I kept saying this to her and she kept looking at me like I was insane. Thing is of course, she was the funny one so without her my career in comedy was a non starter. Then I got talked out of doing drama for GCSE and my future seemed foggy.
One night during a sleepover my friend happened to be playing the latest NOW compilation which had size of a cow on it, having never heard the full song she played it for me and I thought it was the greatest thing I'd ever heard. I saved up my pocket money and ventured into the local record shop and bought Never Loved Elvis and it was a revelation. Every track on it was awesome. I had a look through my Dads Guinness book of Hit Singles and identified all the singles the Wonder Stuff had released and made it my mission to track them down. I bought Eight Legged Groove Machine and Hup and immediately recognised that they were even better than the cow song. I visited the ex jukebox stand in the market and picked up sleep alone and caught in my shadow. I remember buying a waistcoat and don't let me down gently on 7" at a car boot sale. At a record fair I picked up an older single on cd - I remember paying an extortionate amount of money but wanting it anyway, despite my entire collection being on vinyl to that point. Of course that then meant I had to start buying everything else I owned already on CD to match. I was visiting my local record shop so often that they eventually offered me a Saturday job.
The Wonder Stuff lead me to other bands...naturally PWEI, EMF, Neds, New Model Army, that lead me onto Nirvana, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Pearl Jam... But the Wonder Stuff were still the best of them all. One day in work I met the rep for Polydor who happened to have the new Wonder Stuff single. She gave me a copy for free. She told me she too was a fan and had actually been at the promotion launch thing with the band and had just been in awe. I was so jealous but excited to realise there was a whole industry surrounding this music stuff and I knew immediately that I had a career aim for the future...
Idiot came out and they toured. I met Miles Hunt outside the royal court, I got a couple of CDs signed and I remember asking for a photo, I couldn't believe it when he agreed...I realise that's what celebrities do but at the time I just couldn't believe my luck, I skipped around the little group surrounding him, I stopped opposite to get a better look at him and then carried on hopping on the spot, I was so excited I couldn't contain it. I caught the eye of the woman stood in the door way waiting for him and pointed at him and said "that's Miles Hunt" and carried on skipping.
I was definitely NOT a hipster.
But then when I was 16 they split up. I was devastated.
I was in the Krazy House when I heard they were splitting up after the Phoenix festival and I cried. I was drunk and there's no drunk like underage drunk, and I cried all night and all the way home.
I replaced them with The Lemonheads...again I discovered them through Mrs Robinson but much preferred their back catalogue and that lead me into American punk. I stepped even further away from current chart music and delved into otherwise unheard of bands.
I saw We Know Where You Live at the Lomax and told Malcolm Treece he was a legend, apologised to Paul Clifford for asking for an autograph (coz of his comment on the documentary about not really liking people coming up to him all the time or whatever) and met Martin Gilks. A few months later Vent played and I met Miles again under slightly less excitable circumstances, amazing what 2 years can do to your maturity - perhaps being allowed to drink legally zaps the fun out of it? I had a really good conversation with him about music. I told him I sang in a punk band and he told me to send him a demo...didn't tell me where to send it mind you...and it was all round a far more dignified display on my part than our previous meeting. Maybe it was simply because he had short hair and I didn't fancy him anymore. Who knows?
I did a Degree in Music Industry Management and lived in London for 6 years working for a collection of music companies, the PRS, EMI and Sanctuary Records. I was at PRS at the same time as Paul Clifford and my friend actually worked for him. I met him and confessed my love of the Wonder Stuff and he kindly invited me to have lunch with him and ask him anything I wanted to know...wow. I was ecstatic but terrified. He told me some fantastic stories and I really appreciated that he did that. I appreciated even more that he copied some single tracks for me because all mine had been stolen when our house was broken into (including all the ones Miles had signed) and some of my favourite tracks were b'sides.
When they reformed and did those gigs at the Forum I had a ticket booked for the first night. Then EMI announced it was the Christmas party and I felt obliged to go. I sold my ticket and as more dates had been added I left a message on the Wonder Stuff website forum and a kind hearted soul sold me a spare ticket for the last night. There's actually a photo taken from the back of the stage and I'm there clearly at the front of the crowd. My boyfriend bought me a live DVD last year and I put it on to get myself in the mood prior to seeing Miles and Erica and there in the first few minutes is me singing along at the front of the crowd in the Forum clear as day. I recall that I couldn't walk the next day as my knees, ribs and stomach were black and blue from being constantly battered against the barrier.
I saw a few gigs courtesy of that kind soul. The Charlie and the Chocolate Factory style golden ticket for buying the Love Bites and Bruises album in HMV was a particularly memorable gig (HMV had forgotten to give them out so he was given 2 and invited me along.)
Then thanks to the daily drudge of working for a living, music was my job and I lost all interest in it. Eventually I moved back to Liverpool where I started rediscovering a passion for music. For all the bands I like now none of them have ever caught me the way The Wonder Stuff did. I may not listen to them all that much but I still know all the words and I still rank them as my all time favourite band.
Without the Wonder Stuff I wouldn't have got that job in the record shop, gone to university, moved to London, worked in music (which provided its own adventures) I wouldn't have the friends that I have and I wouldn't be where I am now.
Now I run my own business. I'm an artist and designer. I produce beautiful hand painted silk scarves, I design websites and publicity materials and I paint portraits. I create animations, and I deliver art classes. Bit of a mixed bag of skills and tricks. I learned design in my role at Sanctuary Records and the art is a long hidden talent from school days when I used to draw portraits of - you guessed it - Vic Reeves and Miles Hunt (worryingly, my school friends always thought my Miles Hunt portraits were self portraits.)
So I am not ashamed of my late discovery of the Wonder Stuff, and I don't think it lessens my credibility as a fan. The Wonder Stuff were the first band I got myself into, they weren't handed down to me by my much cooler brother and they influenced my life from that moment on. And they lasted far longer in my heart than Vic Reeves did.
I didn't go ask for a photo by the way. I decided to lock away that teenager. Maybe when he's next had a hair cut I could approach him with out my teenage self rearing her ugly head.
Saturday, 25 February 2012
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Been a while
It's been a while - time passes so fast lately. What a stupid statement that is time passes at a set rate however my notion of the passing of time has changed since I was made redundant in June and started running my own business fulltime. Suddenly I'm constantly working and time seems to pass me by more quickly than when I was employed and clock watching! However that is no excuse as my last blog post was in February. I do have another blog however which related to my business at www.geni-i.co.uk so i have been active in blogging in a sense.
In April a good friend of mine introduced me to a book called "Change Your Genetic Destiny" Also known as The genotype Diet. I assumed it would be a load of nonsense, but the book made sense to me in a way, it wasn't a diet aimed at losing weight but a way of looking at the food you eat and recognising whether the food is right for your body type. I followed a few pages of tests and answered medical and family history questions and eventually I discovered that I am a HUNTER!!
Grrr!
So then I was presented with 2 food lists. One a list a food that I should emphasise in my diet and the other a list of foods I should avoid.
Unfortunately for me the list of foods to avoid included most of the food I ate on a daily basis - it included all but 5 types of cheese, wheat, gluten, corn, barley, rye - so almost any kind of pastry or bread was out and Mushrooms - and I love mushrooms!
But I decded to give it a try. I immedietly started reading labels for everything... i bought free from foods at the local supermarket, became an expert on which gluten free bread tastes the best and started enjoying foods that I'd never considering eating before purely because they were on my good list and so I wanted to try them just to expand my diet!
I also had to give up tea which for me what really hard. It wasn't the caffiene - I as allowed coffee but the tea itself. So i started drinking various green teas until i discovered vanilla flavour red bush.
Almost immedietly I noticed a difference in my energy, i was more alert i felt more confident and able to face challenges. I was constantly doing something, where i had spent my recent years horizontal in front of the TV I found i couldn't sit still, i wanted to be doing something even if it was just cleaning the house.
I noticed that whenever I ate something I shouldn't It gave me bad stomach pains and I also found I was eating less, naturally as if my body was getting the right foods and didn;t need more, I was snacking less and smaller portions filled me up longer.
Over the course a couple of months I lost a stone in weight and went back down to the dress size I'd been throughout my 20s and had recently left 12 months ago for a bigger size.
In the last couple of months however the great effect has worn off. I spend plenty of time horizontal on the sofa and when I eat a bit of real bread or indulge in a pizza it doesn't make me feel bad anymore, perhaps because my body is better able to cope with it. Or perhaps that long list of foods is actually a lot shorter and i just need to test which are the actual foods that I should avoid.
Yesterday I went out to the supermarket to get some weekend supplies, it was payday weekend (which means the checque i paid myself for my wages had cleared) and I intended to do a big monthly Asda online shop (hate going shopping) so I needed a few bits to get us through the weekend. I stood in front of the free from section and looked at the bread rolls and i looked in the basket at the white bread, the bacon and sausages and thought to myself, "I'm sick of this diet" and I went home and savoured eating real bread with my bacon. It was the best thing I've tasted in months!
Having just completed my Asda online shop and spent about £40 less on food than usual as a result of not buying anything gluten free I'm pleased with my decision. Starting a business and taking a massive drop in regular income has made the last few months really hard and an over expensive diet hasn't helped. I do think however that there are people with genuine health issues that have to eat this food, does it really have to be so expensive?
So I will be monitoring myself over the coming weeks to see if going back to the old ways will cause me to gain weight. Since my birthday I've been less than strict and have not put on a single pound in those 3 weeks, so I hope that if I eat sensibly without limiting myself to a small selection of foods (because cutting out wheat and gluten is like trying avoid chemicals - everything is chemicals!) I might be able to avoid putting all that weight back on...and if I don't I'll just have to learn to love the rounder me because our lives are dominated by work and sleep and we should enjoy the free time we have as much as possible. And I love food, so to spend the rest of my life eating bread that tastes like cardboard would be a waste!
In April a good friend of mine introduced me to a book called "Change Your Genetic Destiny" Also known as The genotype Diet. I assumed it would be a load of nonsense, but the book made sense to me in a way, it wasn't a diet aimed at losing weight but a way of looking at the food you eat and recognising whether the food is right for your body type. I followed a few pages of tests and answered medical and family history questions and eventually I discovered that I am a HUNTER!!
Grrr!
So then I was presented with 2 food lists. One a list a food that I should emphasise in my diet and the other a list of foods I should avoid.
Unfortunately for me the list of foods to avoid included most of the food I ate on a daily basis - it included all but 5 types of cheese, wheat, gluten, corn, barley, rye - so almost any kind of pastry or bread was out and Mushrooms - and I love mushrooms!
But I decded to give it a try. I immedietly started reading labels for everything... i bought free from foods at the local supermarket, became an expert on which gluten free bread tastes the best and started enjoying foods that I'd never considering eating before purely because they were on my good list and so I wanted to try them just to expand my diet!
I also had to give up tea which for me what really hard. It wasn't the caffiene - I as allowed coffee but the tea itself. So i started drinking various green teas until i discovered vanilla flavour red bush.
Almost immedietly I noticed a difference in my energy, i was more alert i felt more confident and able to face challenges. I was constantly doing something, where i had spent my recent years horizontal in front of the TV I found i couldn't sit still, i wanted to be doing something even if it was just cleaning the house.
I noticed that whenever I ate something I shouldn't It gave me bad stomach pains and I also found I was eating less, naturally as if my body was getting the right foods and didn;t need more, I was snacking less and smaller portions filled me up longer.
Over the course a couple of months I lost a stone in weight and went back down to the dress size I'd been throughout my 20s and had recently left 12 months ago for a bigger size.
In the last couple of months however the great effect has worn off. I spend plenty of time horizontal on the sofa and when I eat a bit of real bread or indulge in a pizza it doesn't make me feel bad anymore, perhaps because my body is better able to cope with it. Or perhaps that long list of foods is actually a lot shorter and i just need to test which are the actual foods that I should avoid.
Yesterday I went out to the supermarket to get some weekend supplies, it was payday weekend (which means the checque i paid myself for my wages had cleared) and I intended to do a big monthly Asda online shop (hate going shopping) so I needed a few bits to get us through the weekend. I stood in front of the free from section and looked at the bread rolls and i looked in the basket at the white bread, the bacon and sausages and thought to myself, "I'm sick of this diet" and I went home and savoured eating real bread with my bacon. It was the best thing I've tasted in months!
Having just completed my Asda online shop and spent about £40 less on food than usual as a result of not buying anything gluten free I'm pleased with my decision. Starting a business and taking a massive drop in regular income has made the last few months really hard and an over expensive diet hasn't helped. I do think however that there are people with genuine health issues that have to eat this food, does it really have to be so expensive?
So I will be monitoring myself over the coming weeks to see if going back to the old ways will cause me to gain weight. Since my birthday I've been less than strict and have not put on a single pound in those 3 weeks, so I hope that if I eat sensibly without limiting myself to a small selection of foods (because cutting out wheat and gluten is like trying avoid chemicals - everything is chemicals!) I might be able to avoid putting all that weight back on...and if I don't I'll just have to learn to love the rounder me because our lives are dominated by work and sleep and we should enjoy the free time we have as much as possible. And I love food, so to spend the rest of my life eating bread that tastes like cardboard would be a waste!
Friday, 4 February 2011
Get outta here you goddam skier!
get outta here you goddam skier!
Skier has become my new buzz word for anyone who is rude or arrogant following many incidents of close shaves on the slopes.
Today for example we went for lunch in the restaurant at the top of the "gondola" ski lift and had a play in the snow. It's our last day if holiday, my boyfriend's birthday and I can see again thanks to the eyedrops and optrex doing a speedy job on my eye.
So apart from the arrogance of dropping skis in our path and skiing as closely as possible to us and flicking snow in our face we had one skier stare at us as we were getting the gondola back down. Actually stopped and stared at us. Yes pedestrians getting the lift down what a scandal!
I dunno what they've got to be so arrogant about - they use 2 bits of wood and sticks. snowboarders do it sideways with nothing to hold on to. Probably just annoyed because boarders look way cooler!
So I just went the spa again. It wasn't as good today because I went later and it was busy. I waited ages for a jacuzzi to half clear so I could get in there for a bubbly watery massage. I snuck in opposite 2 guys and an older woman who all eventually got out leaving me alone for at least 1 second before a couple got in sitting across from each other talking. Not in English but the tone was suggestive. after a while the guy rests his head back and raises his feet for his girlfriend to rub.
Apart from the loud talking ruining my calm I now feel like I've inadvertently wandered onto the set of a porno. As if to emphasise the point the guy sits up and floats over to his girlfriend who he starts kissing.
I fought back the urge to raise my hand and say "erm excuse me - not sure if you noticed me here... might want to get a room?" because I get the feeling their conversation was probably something along the lines of "let's start getting romantic so she gets uncomfortable and leaves". I assume they are skiers.
Damn them - their plan worked... but not before 2 more girls got in! still my quiet was broken and I decided it was time to leave.
Next year though I am getting me a 5 day pass and hitting the spa as soon as it opens each day!
Skier has become my new buzz word for anyone who is rude or arrogant following many incidents of close shaves on the slopes.
Today for example we went for lunch in the restaurant at the top of the "gondola" ski lift and had a play in the snow. It's our last day if holiday, my boyfriend's birthday and I can see again thanks to the eyedrops and optrex doing a speedy job on my eye.
So apart from the arrogance of dropping skis in our path and skiing as closely as possible to us and flicking snow in our face we had one skier stare at us as we were getting the gondola back down. Actually stopped and stared at us. Yes pedestrians getting the lift down what a scandal!
I dunno what they've got to be so arrogant about - they use 2 bits of wood and sticks. snowboarders do it sideways with nothing to hold on to. Probably just annoyed because boarders look way cooler!
So I just went the spa again. It wasn't as good today because I went later and it was busy. I waited ages for a jacuzzi to half clear so I could get in there for a bubbly watery massage. I snuck in opposite 2 guys and an older woman who all eventually got out leaving me alone for at least 1 second before a couple got in sitting across from each other talking. Not in English but the tone was suggestive. after a while the guy rests his head back and raises his feet for his girlfriend to rub.
Apart from the loud talking ruining my calm I now feel like I've inadvertently wandered onto the set of a porno. As if to emphasise the point the guy sits up and floats over to his girlfriend who he starts kissing.
I fought back the urge to raise my hand and say "erm excuse me - not sure if you noticed me here... might want to get a room?" because I get the feeling their conversation was probably something along the lines of "let's start getting romantic so she gets uncomfortable and leaves". I assume they are skiers.
Damn them - their plan worked... but not before 2 more girls got in! still my quiet was broken and I decided it was time to leave.
Next year though I am getting me a 5 day pass and hitting the spa as soon as it opens each day!
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Eye ruined my holiday...
eye ruined my holiday!
Well it was bad enough spraining my wrist on day 1 of a snowboarding holiday but I managed to make the trip even worse by getting an eye infection.
Yes that's right I'm now making everyone feel a bit awkward by sitting around with a constant stream of tears running down one side of my face.
It actually started on day 1 when I woke up with something in my eye. It watered for an hour and then felt fine and was soon forgotten when I fell on my wrist. The next morning however, I awoke with the same irritation which again seemed to heal after an hour or so although I did spend most of day 2 crying in frustration at not being able to play out in the snow with everyone, lift my own brew or even cut my own food up.
Yesterday - day 3 I was really surprised to wake up with the same thing except on this day it didn't get better. I came to the conclusion that I must have a spot or something on the inside of my eyelid which causes irritation particularly when I close my eyes. Well that's just brilliant isn't it?
We had a lovely day. My boyfriend and I took a ride up towards the top if the mountain and played in the snow. It was lots of fun. Brilliant thick snow that came up to my knees in parts and the sun was bright and warm. except that the sun was really hurting my eye and I could barely open it.
Eventually I decided to find the pharmacy and the lady serving me took one look at my face and said "oh you've got a problem" in a delightful French accent while reaching for a bottle of optrex and some antiseptic eye drops.
Now might be a good time to mention how squeamish I am when it comes to eyes. Having a problem with my eye is the worst possible thing that could happen. I get into a state over the glaucoma test at the opticians!
But I returned and washed my eye as best I could with optrex and my boyfriend put the drops in my eye.
Today however I can barely keep my eye open. It waters constantly until I have to close it but closing it hurts more. My eye is red and swollen and the light hurts it. I have turned into a vampire!
So I spent all day wearing sunglasses in a dark room apparently crying from 1 eye but trying really hard not to be miserable and hoping that the constant stream of "tears" is flushing some kind of badness away.
Now I'm sat wearing sunglasses in a bar with wifi trying to watch the Liverpool game on a laptop. I feel like a goddam jackass wearing shades at night and indoors.
On the plus side I can cut up my own food again!
Well it was bad enough spraining my wrist on day 1 of a snowboarding holiday but I managed to make the trip even worse by getting an eye infection.
Yes that's right I'm now making everyone feel a bit awkward by sitting around with a constant stream of tears running down one side of my face.
It actually started on day 1 when I woke up with something in my eye. It watered for an hour and then felt fine and was soon forgotten when I fell on my wrist. The next morning however, I awoke with the same irritation which again seemed to heal after an hour or so although I did spend most of day 2 crying in frustration at not being able to play out in the snow with everyone, lift my own brew or even cut my own food up.
Yesterday - day 3 I was really surprised to wake up with the same thing except on this day it didn't get better. I came to the conclusion that I must have a spot or something on the inside of my eyelid which causes irritation particularly when I close my eyes. Well that's just brilliant isn't it?
We had a lovely day. My boyfriend and I took a ride up towards the top if the mountain and played in the snow. It was lots of fun. Brilliant thick snow that came up to my knees in parts and the sun was bright and warm. except that the sun was really hurting my eye and I could barely open it.
Eventually I decided to find the pharmacy and the lady serving me took one look at my face and said "oh you've got a problem" in a delightful French accent while reaching for a bottle of optrex and some antiseptic eye drops.
Now might be a good time to mention how squeamish I am when it comes to eyes. Having a problem with my eye is the worst possible thing that could happen. I get into a state over the glaucoma test at the opticians!
But I returned and washed my eye as best I could with optrex and my boyfriend put the drops in my eye.
Today however I can barely keep my eye open. It waters constantly until I have to close it but closing it hurts more. My eye is red and swollen and the light hurts it. I have turned into a vampire!
So I spent all day wearing sunglasses in a dark room apparently crying from 1 eye but trying really hard not to be miserable and hoping that the constant stream of "tears" is flushing some kind of badness away.
Now I'm sat wearing sunglasses in a bar with wifi trying to watch the Liverpool game on a laptop. I feel like a goddam jackass wearing shades at night and indoors.
On the plus side I can cut up my own food again!
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
From hero to villain
from hero to villain.
His arm band said he was a red but his conduct approaching the transfer deadline said he was a spiteful selfish fraud.
Fernando Torres joined Liverpool as a self confessed Liverpool fan. he worked hard and won the hearts of the fans.
Following a fantastic season which saw Liverpool finish 2nd in the league we had a disastrous season which some may blame on losing our star player through injury.
After that Torres was a different player. Moody and frustrated he looked unhappy and out of sorts on the pitch. Made of glass we again played many games without him.
We allowed him to miss the end of the season to get knee surgery in time for the world cup. Spain won but Torres pulled up injured during the final.
The upheaval of owners and managers had an unsettling effect and no one played to their best ability but the return to the helm of King Kenny had a dramatic effect on the whole team - with Torres seeming to have benefitted the most.
But then 2 days before the transfer window closed Torres handed in a transfer request. Not only choosing not to honour his commitment to the club and fans but forcing us to spend record amounts on new players as we desperately needed to fill his boots.
The ultimate betrayal, Torres was pictured with the Chelsea shirt saying "he's always wanted to play for a big club"
Torres says he left because we weren't spending any money. although he submitted his request after we agreed terms for Suarez.
Torres had the makings of an Anfield legend, looked up to by children and adults alike. A hero. He could've been remembered throughout the annals of history alongside Dalglish and Rush, but his conduct this week will see his future memory as just another player.
I dread to think what will happen when we visit Stamford bridge next week but I hope that the betrayal of a hero and the devastation of the fans will spur the players to go out there and win... and then go on to beat Chelsea to a champions league place and become Champions league winners 2012...
Torres can go lament his mistake with former Liverpool player Michael Owen - he also left us to win stuff in Europe didn't he?
His arm band said he was a red but his conduct approaching the transfer deadline said he was a spiteful selfish fraud.
Fernando Torres joined Liverpool as a self confessed Liverpool fan. he worked hard and won the hearts of the fans.
Following a fantastic season which saw Liverpool finish 2nd in the league we had a disastrous season which some may blame on losing our star player through injury.
After that Torres was a different player. Moody and frustrated he looked unhappy and out of sorts on the pitch. Made of glass we again played many games without him.
We allowed him to miss the end of the season to get knee surgery in time for the world cup. Spain won but Torres pulled up injured during the final.
The upheaval of owners and managers had an unsettling effect and no one played to their best ability but the return to the helm of King Kenny had a dramatic effect on the whole team - with Torres seeming to have benefitted the most.
But then 2 days before the transfer window closed Torres handed in a transfer request. Not only choosing not to honour his commitment to the club and fans but forcing us to spend record amounts on new players as we desperately needed to fill his boots.
The ultimate betrayal, Torres was pictured with the Chelsea shirt saying "he's always wanted to play for a big club"
Torres says he left because we weren't spending any money. although he submitted his request after we agreed terms for Suarez.
Torres had the makings of an Anfield legend, looked up to by children and adults alike. A hero. He could've been remembered throughout the annals of history alongside Dalglish and Rush, but his conduct this week will see his future memory as just another player.
I dread to think what will happen when we visit Stamford bridge next week but I hope that the betrayal of a hero and the devastation of the fans will spur the players to go out there and win... and then go on to beat Chelsea to a champions league place and become Champions league winners 2012...
Torres can go lament his mistake with former Liverpool player Michael Owen - he also left us to win stuff in Europe didn't he?
Sunday, 30 January 2011
Knowing my limit
I was marginally hopeful that the next few posts would document my rise from reluctant learner to snowboarding’s biggest fan. Starting with the first sight of the slopes, strapping on the board for the first time, even the first fall…right through to day 3 when I’ve been assured it’ll all start sinking in and moving in the direction of “fun”.
So to start the story we had the longest journey here imaginable. We’re in France – from England you might say that’s not all that far…but I’ve visited my friends in America in a shorter time than it took to get to Val Thorens!
We started with a 3:30am pick up from home. Now my boyfriend hadn’t slept, although I got about 4 hours, so he really did have the worlds longest day…Jack Bauer has nothing on him. We arrived at the airport which took a fair while to check in – 2 different baggage drops because skis and snowboards can’t cope with the corner on the conveyor belt and have to be checked in elsewhere.
After a quick bite to eat we boarded the plane, which was delayed by half an hour and then finally after 2 hours we arrived in Geneva. It took nearly 2 hours for our bags to come through…in fact mine came through with the first bags from the next flight on the carousel so I was reaching a particularly high stress level fearing my bag had been lost.
Then of course we had missed our coach to the resort so we had to be reallocated to another bus which didn’t leave for another hour. Then a speedy 3 hour bus ride across to France and finally, FINALLY we arrive in Val Thorens. At that point door to door we’d been travelling for 13 hours.
13 hours! There’s a channel separating us from France not an ocean!
So tired and grumpy we weave our way between lots of Europeans who don’t waste their energy on politeness or making way for the red faced weary travellers laden down with bags and boards and stuff and we finally get into our room. The worlds smallest room…I had a studio flat in London bigger than this room…but we’ve got to somehow fit 4 of us in it! After the coin toss which allocated us to the sofa bed in the living area we battled our way around the spar to buy teabags and milk. My boyfriend created a kettle by boiling a pan of water and pouring it into a jug to pour into tea cups. No kettle…why would there be? All the cool kids drink percolated coffee…yeah there’s one of them – completely wasted on 4 tea drinkers!
Finally the 5th member of our party arrived and we went out for some dinner…but everywhere had stopped serving food so we ended up with a kebab from the nearby takeaway…some generic meat kebab that was actually mostly onion…bleurgh!
So day 1 proper – Sunday arrives. We get up bright and early eager to get out, hire some boards and get us going, somewhere on the kiddy slope. We start walking down the slope to the flat bit – which is already intimidating me a bit…bit steep that even for walking…when suddenly Chris, the most experienced member in our party stops us and tells us to strap our boards on – what here? Are you crazy – what about waiting til we get to the flat bit? Ok when I said this part was steep I may have been slightly over exaggerating it – although it felt steep enough to me that I wanted to just sit down and slide down it. So we strap boards on. Our lovely patient boyfriends help us upright and we stand legs straight, back of the board digging into the snow and we move forward and stop and sit down a few times in the manner of a toddler learning to walk. There I am sliding forwards as my boyfriend in front of me slides backwards – just short of clapping his hands encouragingly saying “come on, that’s right, you can do it, come on come to me, well done!” while I go “woah woah woah” and sit back on my arse with a bump. So we do this a few times until finally I lose my balance, fall and in an instant I forgot about sitting and just threw my arms beneath me and landed on my wrist.
What I’ve learned since then is that Snowboarding and I go together like Mr Bean and carelessly discarded banana skins. So it’s only natural that within 20 minutes of strapping on a snowboard I’d sprained my wrist. Well I could’ve predicted that! My only regret is not putting a bet on it.
So after holding my wrist for a bit, lying back on the floor in the manner of an over acting “injured” footballer and barking “just give me a minute will you” at my boyfriend who’s tying to encourage me try again I eventually admit defeat. But because I can’t put any weight on my right wrist I can’t even unstrap the board. Eventually we walk down to the flat bit and I optimistically test whether I can put any weight on my wrist but I can’t. I sit in the snow with the board across my knees and cry. Yes I cried. Disappointment, pain and a feeling of letting down my boyfriend who loves snowboarding so much that I wanted to try it for him.
So we head back to the hotel – walking up the driest path to the hotel carrying a board in my left arm which feels like it’s getting heavier and heavier with each step. I’m feeling so miserable at this point that I forget about the icy patch at the bottom of the steps to our hotel and I again fall over flat on my back with my board landing on top of me. “I f*@king hate this holiday” I mutter practically throwing my board at my boyfriend and trying to get up without the use of my right hand. And I freely cry all the way back to the room.
My boyfriend helps me out of my snow gear sprays my wrist with deep heat, bandages it up and makes me a cup of tea. Then we take the board back to the hire shop so I don’t waste any more money and I settle on the sofa with the laptop and a pile of dvds.
But actually in hindsight maybe now I’m a little bit relieved because I’ve never been fully keen on the idea, close to petrified most of the time I thought about it and now I can just say “well I tried it, I hurt myself and I have no desire to try it again” And who would blame me?
Ok so my boyfriend currently has to fasten all my clothes for me and cut up my food so I can eat. Which makes me cry just a little bit every time, but that’s just the frustration of feeling completely useless. At least RSI was just a dull ache that made it difficult to work now I can’t use it at all.
But at the end of the day I’m on holiday. If this was a summer holiday I would spend all day sat by a pool reading a book. Lazing around sunbathing and just relaxing. So now I get to do the same thing. Lie on a sofa and read, watch movies on the laptop and more than likely hang out in the spa for a bit of pampering.
So maybe it’s not all bad. My partner in learning has picked it up really quickly and the boys learned 10 years ago when they were younger and more keen. I know my limit and I should’ve probably been a bit more honest about my general reluctance to even try it…but at least I did try it. And I can honestly say I have no desire to ever try it again.
So to start the story we had the longest journey here imaginable. We’re in France – from England you might say that’s not all that far…but I’ve visited my friends in America in a shorter time than it took to get to Val Thorens!
We started with a 3:30am pick up from home. Now my boyfriend hadn’t slept, although I got about 4 hours, so he really did have the worlds longest day…Jack Bauer has nothing on him. We arrived at the airport which took a fair while to check in – 2 different baggage drops because skis and snowboards can’t cope with the corner on the conveyor belt and have to be checked in elsewhere.
After a quick bite to eat we boarded the plane, which was delayed by half an hour and then finally after 2 hours we arrived in Geneva. It took nearly 2 hours for our bags to come through…in fact mine came through with the first bags from the next flight on the carousel so I was reaching a particularly high stress level fearing my bag had been lost.
Then of course we had missed our coach to the resort so we had to be reallocated to another bus which didn’t leave for another hour. Then a speedy 3 hour bus ride across to France and finally, FINALLY we arrive in Val Thorens. At that point door to door we’d been travelling for 13 hours.
13 hours! There’s a channel separating us from France not an ocean!
So tired and grumpy we weave our way between lots of Europeans who don’t waste their energy on politeness or making way for the red faced weary travellers laden down with bags and boards and stuff and we finally get into our room. The worlds smallest room…I had a studio flat in London bigger than this room…but we’ve got to somehow fit 4 of us in it! After the coin toss which allocated us to the sofa bed in the living area we battled our way around the spar to buy teabags and milk. My boyfriend created a kettle by boiling a pan of water and pouring it into a jug to pour into tea cups. No kettle…why would there be? All the cool kids drink percolated coffee…yeah there’s one of them – completely wasted on 4 tea drinkers!
Finally the 5th member of our party arrived and we went out for some dinner…but everywhere had stopped serving food so we ended up with a kebab from the nearby takeaway…some generic meat kebab that was actually mostly onion…bleurgh!
So day 1 proper – Sunday arrives. We get up bright and early eager to get out, hire some boards and get us going, somewhere on the kiddy slope. We start walking down the slope to the flat bit – which is already intimidating me a bit…bit steep that even for walking…when suddenly Chris, the most experienced member in our party stops us and tells us to strap our boards on – what here? Are you crazy – what about waiting til we get to the flat bit? Ok when I said this part was steep I may have been slightly over exaggerating it – although it felt steep enough to me that I wanted to just sit down and slide down it. So we strap boards on. Our lovely patient boyfriends help us upright and we stand legs straight, back of the board digging into the snow and we move forward and stop and sit down a few times in the manner of a toddler learning to walk. There I am sliding forwards as my boyfriend in front of me slides backwards – just short of clapping his hands encouragingly saying “come on, that’s right, you can do it, come on come to me, well done!” while I go “woah woah woah” and sit back on my arse with a bump. So we do this a few times until finally I lose my balance, fall and in an instant I forgot about sitting and just threw my arms beneath me and landed on my wrist.
What I’ve learned since then is that Snowboarding and I go together like Mr Bean and carelessly discarded banana skins. So it’s only natural that within 20 minutes of strapping on a snowboard I’d sprained my wrist. Well I could’ve predicted that! My only regret is not putting a bet on it.
So after holding my wrist for a bit, lying back on the floor in the manner of an over acting “injured” footballer and barking “just give me a minute will you” at my boyfriend who’s tying to encourage me try again I eventually admit defeat. But because I can’t put any weight on my right wrist I can’t even unstrap the board. Eventually we walk down to the flat bit and I optimistically test whether I can put any weight on my wrist but I can’t. I sit in the snow with the board across my knees and cry. Yes I cried. Disappointment, pain and a feeling of letting down my boyfriend who loves snowboarding so much that I wanted to try it for him.
So we head back to the hotel – walking up the driest path to the hotel carrying a board in my left arm which feels like it’s getting heavier and heavier with each step. I’m feeling so miserable at this point that I forget about the icy patch at the bottom of the steps to our hotel and I again fall over flat on my back with my board landing on top of me. “I f*@king hate this holiday” I mutter practically throwing my board at my boyfriend and trying to get up without the use of my right hand. And I freely cry all the way back to the room.
My boyfriend helps me out of my snow gear sprays my wrist with deep heat, bandages it up and makes me a cup of tea. Then we take the board back to the hire shop so I don’t waste any more money and I settle on the sofa with the laptop and a pile of dvds.
But actually in hindsight maybe now I’m a little bit relieved because I’ve never been fully keen on the idea, close to petrified most of the time I thought about it and now I can just say “well I tried it, I hurt myself and I have no desire to try it again” And who would blame me?
Ok so my boyfriend currently has to fasten all my clothes for me and cut up my food so I can eat. Which makes me cry just a little bit every time, but that’s just the frustration of feeling completely useless. At least RSI was just a dull ache that made it difficult to work now I can’t use it at all.
But at the end of the day I’m on holiday. If this was a summer holiday I would spend all day sat by a pool reading a book. Lazing around sunbathing and just relaxing. So now I get to do the same thing. Lie on a sofa and read, watch movies on the laptop and more than likely hang out in the spa for a bit of pampering.
So maybe it’s not all bad. My partner in learning has picked it up really quickly and the boys learned 10 years ago when they were younger and more keen. I know my limit and I should’ve probably been a bit more honest about my general reluctance to even try it…but at least I did try it. And I can honestly say I have no desire to ever try it again.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Say goodbye to my legs
Today is a long day. I've been in work for about 12 hours today and it's still only 10:45am.
Last night we had our work's Christmas meal - it was postponed due to the bad weather in December which resulted in us having to shut the office 2 days early - I didn't actually go to the Christmas meal because I went on my mate's hen night instead (quite possibly the greatest hen night I've ever been on...we went for a meal at an all you can eat buffet and then went home - not an L plate in sight, no sleazy male strippers, no dancing on the tables and no long weekend to Benidorm!)
So despite being on a hen do, I'm the bright and breezy, wide awake, staff member today while everyone else is ailing. I've seen so many bacon butties pass through the doorway this morning, our office is beginning to look like a cafe.
So I'm probably not alone in feeling like today is being the longest day in the history of time.
For me though I just want to go home, finish my packing and go to bed...so I can go on holiday. At 5pm tonight I will officially be on holiday. At 3:30 tomorrow morning I will be officially going on holiday. and at approximately 4pm tomorrow afternoon I will probably be in a hospital bed with a broken leg.
I am going snowboarding. For the first time ever. And I'm roughly 45% excited and 65% terrified. But don't worry - I have a cool new hair do and snazzy snowboarding pants so I will look good - even if I do go down the mountain on my arse instead of a board.
I've got 2 theories about this trip and why I will no doubt fail to snowboard despite going with 2 competent boarders who's future holidays may well hinge on their girlfriends' enjoyment of this holiday and 1 practically professional snowboarder who has taught them everything they know...
1) I'm getting on a bit now. When I was young I was more fearless about taking risks and stuff...
But it's unnatural isn't it? To have feet strapped onto a board in a position you would never ever stand in and to slide down a snow covered mountain with nothing to hold on to...no stabilisers...no one holding the seat to keep you steady. Nothing.
Terrifying!
If we come home from the holiday with catchphrases I predict mine will be "Waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
2) The second reason I think I will fail at snowboarding - and this is probably more significant than the first one, is that I'm simply not cool enough to go snowboarding.
Snowboarding looks cool man! If you're on the piste in Val Thorens next week look out for me - I'll be the one reading the beginners guide to snowboarding. There's a chance that as this handy book - which my boyfriend kindly bought me for Christmas - focusses on the science of snowboarding I may have a slim chance of getting it. But realistically I fully expect to fall flat on my face once and then slope off to the nearest bar, lick my wounds and trade in my ski pass for a sauna.
Good people of Val Thorens...Don't be surprised if you see an angry looking scouser on the French Alps brandishing a book at people shouting
Last night we had our work's Christmas meal - it was postponed due to the bad weather in December which resulted in us having to shut the office 2 days early - I didn't actually go to the Christmas meal because I went on my mate's hen night instead (quite possibly the greatest hen night I've ever been on...we went for a meal at an all you can eat buffet and then went home - not an L plate in sight, no sleazy male strippers, no dancing on the tables and no long weekend to Benidorm!)
So despite being on a hen do, I'm the bright and breezy, wide awake, staff member today while everyone else is ailing. I've seen so many bacon butties pass through the doorway this morning, our office is beginning to look like a cafe.
So I'm probably not alone in feeling like today is being the longest day in the history of time.
For me though I just want to go home, finish my packing and go to bed...so I can go on holiday. At 5pm tonight I will officially be on holiday. At 3:30 tomorrow morning I will be officially going on holiday. and at approximately 4pm tomorrow afternoon I will probably be in a hospital bed with a broken leg.
I am going snowboarding. For the first time ever. And I'm roughly 45% excited and 65% terrified. But don't worry - I have a cool new hair do and snazzy snowboarding pants so I will look good - even if I do go down the mountain on my arse instead of a board.
I've got 2 theories about this trip and why I will no doubt fail to snowboard despite going with 2 competent boarders who's future holidays may well hinge on their girlfriends' enjoyment of this holiday and 1 practically professional snowboarder who has taught them everything they know...
1) I'm getting on a bit now. When I was young I was more fearless about taking risks and stuff...
can I jump over that wall? It's a bit high, ah well I'll try and see - no I couldn't...muuuuuuuuuuuuummm!!!My partner in learner snowboarding has the happy advantage of being 10 years younger than me and I think she may pick it up much more easily...while I have far too much awareness of my body and what feels natural and what doesn't. My niece taught me some trampoline tricks a few years ago - she'd bounce so high in the air and do all manner of tricks while I could just about do a seat drop...because falling - regardless of the landing - in a seated position is completely unnatural and my body just wouldn't do it for a long time. But perseverance paid off and I suppose I should try and remember that before I throw a snowbaord at my boyfriend and strop off towards the nearest spa!
But it's unnatural isn't it? To have feet strapped onto a board in a position you would never ever stand in and to slide down a snow covered mountain with nothing to hold on to...no stabilisers...no one holding the seat to keep you steady. Nothing.
Terrifying!
If we come home from the holiday with catchphrases I predict mine will be "Waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
2) The second reason I think I will fail at snowboarding - and this is probably more significant than the first one, is that I'm simply not cool enough to go snowboarding.
Snowboarding looks cool man! If you're on the piste in Val Thorens next week look out for me - I'll be the one reading the beginners guide to snowboarding. There's a chance that as this handy book - which my boyfriend kindly bought me for Christmas - focusses on the science of snowboarding I may have a slim chance of getting it. But realistically I fully expect to fall flat on my face once and then slope off to the nearest bar, lick my wounds and trade in my ski pass for a sauna.
Good people of Val Thorens...Don't be surprised if you see an angry looking scouser on the French Alps brandishing a book at people shouting
back off man - I'm a scientist!
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