Saturday, 29 January 2011

"I'm Not Gay."

Stealing Lee's iPod a year ago caused me some trouble, but I figured stealing it a second time would be okay. I mean how much iPod based trouble can a person get themselves into. More than you'd expect, apparantly.

The walk from university back home is a short one, and the ammount of things that can cause any trouble are limited, providing I don't go veering off: I am distracted easily. I popped into the shop on the way home to pick up a couple of bottles of pop, my headphones in my ears blasting out a Lady GaGa track. The only thing I hadn't realised as I was halfway down the confectionary aisle was that the headphones had become dislodged from the iPod and I was playing music out to the whole shop. I had become the riff-raff you usually get on the bus.

When I finally noticed everybody was sort of staring at me, I pulled out my headphones and realised what I was doing.

"Boys, boys, boys, we like boys in cars. Boys, boys, boys, buy us drinks in bars," was sounding out to everyone. In an awkward attempt to resolve the situation I quickly turned off the music and announced, "I'm not gay," to a nearby elderly lady, a good looking boy in a trilby (oxymoronic perhaps, but it happened.) and anyone else who would listen. As if now was the best time to start denying my sexuality after nearly 5 years of being out of the closet. They might have believed me too, I put on my best manly voice and everything, but the jig was up when I accidently followed it was some flamboyant hand-gestures.

I bought my Dr.Pepper and left. I'm just going to stop shopping unsupervised from now on. I clearly can't be trusted.

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

Service With A Smile.

Walking into the post office for the second time that week, wielding the second set of envelopes that contained MY ENTIRE FUTURE, I took my ticket and waited patiently in line. You see, these envelopes have been what my life has revolved around recently; applications for my potential future as a student in America.

I've been worrying about these applications 12 days a week and fretting over every little detail for the past two months, so to hand them over to a company who previously unjustly fired me, insulted me and made me want to curl up into a ball and cry, you can imagine, was not particularly my cup of tea.

I put on a brave face and approached the counter. "Hiya," I said to the middle aged brunette lady sat there. "Hi. What can i do for you?"
"Well, I need to pay the airmail on these," I said lifting up the envelopes, "they're going to America."
"Okay, just pop those on the scales," she told me, and I did.
"That'll be £2.80 for that one, and £3.10 for that one," she told me.
"Oh! That's great news!" I exclaimed, feigning my shock to how cheap it was, repeating the exact same words I had used the day before. "I thought it was going to be around £8 each, can't go wrong at that price, can..." my words began to trail off as the blonde lady I had previously overlooked, sat at the next desk, creased into a fit of laughter.

It had been her who served me the previous day, it was to her I delivered this prepared speech to avoid any awkwardness. Both women looked at me, lips pursed, heads tilted forward, and eyebrows raised.

I turned a shade of scarlet and mumbled some sort of excuse involving a saxophone and a monkey.

"That'll be £5.90 then," the brunette lady, now too laughing, said. As I handed her the money she chuckled "bargain, eh'?" and put the money into the till.

I don't know if it made me feel worse or better to leave my LIFE in the hands of two laughing women, but if anything it did make me leave with a smile.

Monday, 17 January 2011

Having a New Year Trauma

If like me you are suffering the January blues at the mo', fear not! The New Year Having a Trauma podcast is here! Forget that thick layer of stress and depression surrounding everything, sit back with a cuppa and enjoy.

Go on. Press play. You know you want to.

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Out With The Old and In With The New

"Happy New Year?" we said to each other, it was more of a question than a statement. We were only halfway through the Graham Norton New Year's Eve special when fireworks and the sound of the Spanish cheering surrounded the house. We had somewhat overlooked the fact that while we watched English T.V on English time, we were an hour ahead. "Happy new year," we said again completely dumbstruck and unprepared.
"Shall we get the next one?" my mother said without anticipation as if the turning of the year was like waiting for a bus.

The endless traditons confuse me, eating grapes at midnight, haggis the next day, no washing up in fear of washing away the new year's luck. As absurd as they are they tend to make things a bit more lively, and that's never a bad thing. The one we all tend to stick to is the New Year's Resolution. Or as my father would call it, a special new year's wish, his inability to remember what a new year's resolution is called spans way beyond all comprehension... though he makes a good point. It is more of a wish than a resolution, like a wish the likelyhood of it coming true is slim.

I decided against making a New Year's Resolution this year but chose a mantra instead. Simply be optimistic. The resolutions we make are always so specific and often negative. Lose weight. Stop drinking. Go to the gym. I think if we really want these things they'll come naturally. A resolution isn't going to change that much, I always break mine within the first week. Saying that, if you have made a New Year's Resoluton, do your best to stick to it. If you made it, you made it for a reason.

Happy New Year, I have a feeling it'll be a good one.