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Motor Show 2004
The British Motorshow's attempt to reinvent itself didn't quite work, as far as I'm concerned. Most of our day was spent at the NEC and I have to say that I came away from it all a little bit down-hearted. It could just be a case of 'Matrix Reloaded Syndrome', where unrealistic expectations could only result in disappointment, but I suspect that it was the sheer size of the event that had me stumped from the start. We turned up early and tried to find where to book a high-speed passenger ride in a Caterham but ended up totally lost as the Motorshow sprawled over every hall in the complex with little in the way of useful signage. As I'd forgotten to remind Topper to bring his driving licence along (mine is always in my wallet so it never occurred to me to mention it), we stayed away from the driving experiences but figured there was still plenty to do. In fact, his suggestion of bluffing his way into a BSM car as a learner and then scaring the hell out of the instructor may have been a missed opportunity for fun.
As it was, we watched a pantomime-style show on the Ford stand which was themed around this summer's Thunderbirds movie, and the main live atction show called Motropolis. Leaving aside the comical 'acting' talents of Agent Octane, this show was quite entertaining. The self-confessed thin plot revolved around a city where overseers controlled drivers by regulating their speed and fuel, taking the fun out of driving, and the organisers swiped shamelessly from movie franchises like The Matrix, Star Wars and James Bond. However, this really did work well as everything was done with a great sense of humour, allowing a bag-lady affixing a wheel clamp and driving off in an oversized shopping trolley to blend well with a parade of old Jags and a Honda S2000 that continued to doughnut when the driver got out. The Citroen C2s danced with skateboarders, the Honda Civic Type-Rs chased quad bikes, the Saab 93 burned more rubber than I thought possible on such low-profile tyres and the Renault Megane really did shake its ass. This was definitely the highlight of the show for me.
I saw a lot of cars today and managed to only give my phone number to two young ladies (at the Renault and Citroen stands - what did you think I meant?), but it was more than just a bunch of beautifully engineered and polished vehicles that made me smile. As I stood on the Ford stand, changing the film in my Lomo, Topper pointed out that you could have your photograph taken in a Ford StreetKa dressed as Lady Penelope and Parker. "Who'd have their photo taken in a pink car?", he muttered in disgust. Less than five minutes later we were sat in the car smiling at the camera after an attractive blonde talked him into it. The money may have gone to charity but you won't be seeing the photo until I can work out how to Photoshop Nicole Kidman's face on top of my own! Later in the day, the expression on his face was priceless when I appeared to have a nice redhead putting her face in my lap on the Citroen stand. I'd hopped in the C2 VTR Ministry of Sound special edition and was frantically trying to work out how to turn the volume down on the stereo when she leant in to help me - perhaps if Topper had been in the driver's seat instead of me she would have scored a sale!
Anyway, I took hardly any photos with my digital camera so you'l have to wait until I get my film developed before you get to see some of the shiny machines they had to wipe my drool from. You will probably get to see a few on Top Gear next Sunday though and, all things considered, it will probably be a much more enjoyable way to see the cars. A much cheaper way too.
UPDATE: Especially for razorhead and Adrian, I scanned this and made no alterations. It is one of the least flattering photos taken of me, ever, but the overall comedy value is undeniable. Enjoy.
Posted on May 31, 2004 | Comments (4)
Channel 4 wins again
All anyone needs to know about this year's Big Brother can be found from my blogroll: Diamond Geezer introduces the housemates here, and Nayf predicts what will happen here. I said I wouldn't watch this series but I just know I will. Going to try not to blog about it though. Much.
Posted on May 30, 2004 | Comments (1)
This is not Live Journal
Normal service has been resumed. I couldn't be in anything other than a happy mood now having started the day by sitting in the garden watching the sun come up whilst drinking hot chocolate (with marshmallows), basking in the wonders of wireless networking and listening to The Polyphonic Spree. Technically, I suppose the day began when I was still at the housewarming we went to last night so I could also include marvelling at G (seen here with yours truly) mixing the opening of the 2001:A Space Odyssey soundrack into Love is a Stranger by the Eurythmics, and obtaining a nice trophy* on the way home right before doing 100mph** on the M60 due to Hysteria by Muse blasting out of the car's CD player at an unfeasible volume. Phew. No wonder I didn't wake up until 2.30pm.
* The object Topper retrieved from underneath the car after I'd run over it, believing it was small enough to pass under the car without incident, is now on the webcam.
** This is illegal and won't happen again, officer. I was completely sober so I blame the caffiene.
Posted on May 30, 2004 | Comments (1)
Mood swings
I don't know what's wrong with me at the moment. Some days I think life is great, and other days I feel all (to quote Rob Newman some years ago) "so, this is what the world's like and we're expected to go on living?". *sigh*
Posted on May 29, 2004 | Comments (4)
When bigger isn't better
The BBC have hopped on the 'doncha just hate offroaders in an urban environment?' bandwagon with a little story about how 4x4s are becoming increasingly popular in towns and cities for no good reason. My favourite part is the comments from someone called Sarah Millward:
"How," she asks, "do I get two children and a Labrador in a Smart car?" The 27-year-old lives in Derbyshire and uses her five-year-old Land Rover Discovery to ferry two teenaged kids to school and back. And, she says - quite proudly - she takes it into central London, as well. As an artist, she sometimes has quite large pieces that need transporting, and they're not going to fit in a subcompact car.
Who said she had to swap her hideous beast for a Smart? (OK, it may have been the BBC to deliberately fire her up, but I have no proof.) Why doesn't she try something smaller yet practical like a Honda Jazz? She could still use it to take the kids to school - although, aren't teenagers old enough to make their own way there? - and the seats would fold flat giving a massive 845 litres of boot space* for transporting her artwork. She's clearly just making excuses when she should just say that she loves her car and doesn't want to change it.
On a lighter note, yesterday I discovered that the French word for paper clip is trombone. And Topper sent me this. Genius.
*I tried to find out the boot space of a Discovery but the Land Rover site is pants on Mozilla/Linux.
Posted on May 26, 2004 | Comments (12)
Growing up is giving in
As I am telling anyone who'll listen, I am going to reach the end of my 30th year in January. If I had a pound for every person who has said "really? You don't look 30", I'd probably have enough for a chart CD from Asda now, and I was wondering why. Much as I'd like to think it's a combination of youthful good looks and Olay moisturiser, I reckon it's more likely to be because I act younger than my 16-year-old niece most of the time.
OK, so I have a mortgage, but all the other trappings of grown up life will not be welcomed with open arms. I want to be able to spend sunny weekends shut in pubs, take photos of my friends giving each other rides in shopping trolleys, and waste disposable income on CDs and DVDs. Well, that was my weekend. How was yours?
Posted on May 24, 2004 | Comments (15)
Learning with Popbitch
It's been a busy week for me and so quality blog posts are kinda thin on the ground, but I thought this snippet from this week's Popbitch email was worth passing on. Who says they're only interested in celebrity gossip?
"There is no clear, collective noun for penguins. In the past, breeding groups have been referred to as colonies, rookeries and penguineries, but at the 4th International Penguin Conference in Chile in September 2000, it was finally agree by penguin researchers that they would refer to a group of penguins on the land as a 'waddle', and a group in the water as a 'raft'."
Posted on May 21, 2004 | Comments (3)
Roy spotting
There's at least one Roy in every workplace. His defining characteristic will be the ability to make everyone aware of his presence from the second he enters the room, if not before. He will be male and extremely likeable, but his effervescent personality will begin to grate when you are extremely busy and he insists on your full attention. In my first job, there was a Roy called Roy (hence the uninspired name). Second, there was a Roy called Mike, then a Roy called Ian. Now I have encountered a Roy called Nigel. I have seen him almost as often as the colleagues that sit in the same office as me yet he works in a totally different building.
Also, there was a Maurice character type in my first office job. Oddly enough, the Maurice in this job is also called Maurice. Are you confused yet?
Posted on May 19, 2004 | Comments (5)
From yesterday's paper*
*Come on, I've already said I'm a slow reader.
Posted on May 17, 2004 | Comments (4)
The worst in me
I haven't been quite myself lately. Aside from being (almost) too busy to blog, I have seen a side of myself I don't really like and would love to bury it. I have been desperate to mention this for ages and didn't feel I could here but, now that I have made someone I like think I am a psycho bitch from hell, I feel it's time to offload in a different place.
Now, I like people and generally get on well with most of the ones I meet. On the rare occasions I don't get along with someone, we generally just leave each other be and only speak when we absolutely have to. This means that, if I ever come across someone I don't like who doesn't realise, I turn into a complete and utter bitch behind that person's back as I vent all the feelings I bottled up while they were talking to me. I don't like this but it's OK in the company of others who have met said person and understand where I'm coming from - it's when I stupidly tell someone who hasn't met them, and therefore thinks I'm being unnecessarily vicious, that things go wrong.
This probably makes less sense than the 'been offered a new job but don't want to say just yet' post, but I don't care because I feel a little better now. Still, things could be worse - at least I wasn't representing the UK in Eurovision on Saturday.
Posted on May 17, 2004 | Comments (3)
Behaviour
Laugh all you want but the first concert I ever went to was the Pet Shop Boys' Performance tour in 1991. It was an amazing spectacle that took my mind off my impending GCSEs for a few hours and has since left me wondering why more people don't cover PSB tracks, as the version of Rent sung by one of the other singers was truly stunning. A love of the Pet Shop Boys' music was part of what brought me together with my first boyfriend too. No matter how much you snigger at my past musical taste, I still reckon that songs like West End Girls and Being Boring are timeless classics.
Since Performance, I have seen many groups perform live. Some embarrassing (Simply Red, Wet Wet Wet, Mariah Carey), some obscure (Jellyfish, Gun), some truly amazing (Depeche Mode in front of 35,000 at Crystal Palace, Royksopp at Manchester Academy and The Darkness at Manchester Apollo), but all were enjoyable to various degrees and make up a small part of my musical history. Live music is fun, but it's even more fun when it's done well.
Posted on May 12, 2004 | Comments (8)
Sundays are great once again
Hooray for Jeremy Clarkson evading the radar lock of an Apache gunship in a Lotus Exige! Hooray for James May saying 'cock' on the BBC! Hooray for Richard Hammond getting paid to be the butt of Clarksons jokes... again! Top Gear is back, at last.
Yesterday was also a big day for another reason, as we took the next big step that every couple must take. Yes, Topper and I have finally merged our CD collections. Whilst watching Top Gear I was sat on the carpet alphabetising several hundred CDs and the only duplicates we had were in rather good places (e.g. Blade Runner soundtrack, David Bowie, Jamiroquai, Prodigy, Radiohead, The Smiths). It felt odd at first but I'm OK with it now as Topper's CDs have added a certain cool to my collection, whereas he now looks like he has a large chunk of the back catalogues of Depeche Mode, New Order and the Pet Shop Boys. I like them, but are they 'cool'?
Posted on May 10, 2004 | Comments (13)
Multiplex - Saturday night. Full of chavs.
After watching some of Michel Gondry's work on the Directors Label DVD that bears his name, I was really looking forward to seeing his first feature-length effort. I'd heard just enough about Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to make it enticing without spoiling it, which made this wonderful film even more enjoyable than I was expecting. It's not often that I watch a film that is so satisfying visually, mentally and emotionally. It looked beautiful - with the effects used sparingly to try and illustrate the strange way that memories fade and alter, like dreams - and the story was intriguing, with some great acting. Kirsten Dunst proves she's too good for a career of Spiderman movies, Kate Winslet wipes the last traces of Titanic from our minds and Jim Carrey really does play it straight incredibly well.
Compare and contrast with Van Helsing. Pretty to look at? Well, a bit... in places. Mainly around the area of Kate Beckinsale's arse. Good plot? Err, no. Steals from everywhere, then changes everything and uses the Anakin Effect to move it all forward. Emotionally fulfilling? You don't really need me to answer that, do you? It has Hugh Jackman in it. Suffice to say, if you want Indiana Bond the Vampire Slayer (with his very own 19th Century Q-Branch) then go and see Stephen Sommers' movie but, if you want to watch something good, I'd recommend Gondry's film instead.
Posted on May 09, 2004 | Comments (1)
Public Service Announcement
Yesterday I went to Debenhams to spend the gift vouchers my lovely ex-colleagues gave me and, after buying some non-embarrassing gym kit*, decided that a sports bra might also be a good purchase if I am to eliminate all excuses for not going on the cardio equipment. Once in the women's scanties department, I remembered a blog post I read a while back from a young lady who had decided to properly measured for a bra and discovered she'd been wearing the wrong size for years, so I figured this was a good time to do the same. Whilst waiting for the woman whose job it is to measure breasts all day, I tried on a couple of bras in my usual size (36B) and the size of my last Debenhams purchase (38B), but both didn't feel right.
Turns out, I'm actually a 34D which explains a few things. I thought a 34 felt too tight but that would be because the underwiring on the bras I was trying was for a B cup, but going for a larger size around my back just meant that I was constantly having to readjust myself and probably wasn't getting enough support. I now have two new bras and just need a non-wobbly gym-toned arse to compliment them. So ladies, the moral of this story is... next time you need some more undies, have a fitting while you're there. Just in case.
*The existing gym kit consisted of a pair of 10-year-old Adidas track pants and a freebie Commonwealth Games t-shirt in d4d yellow. Mmm.
Posted on May 07, 2004 | Comments (12)
A new era
Another great weekend was followed by a good day one in the new job and then a quick visit to the parents to pick up my new phone (well, my sister's old one). I may have changed jobs because I wasn't over enamoured with my old one but at least I wasn't in a seemingly perfect role, envied by many, only to realise I completely and utterly hated everything it stood for. I feel quite sorry for Will Buckley in today's Guardian - at least I was only obsessed with football for two years before I realised what a crock of shite the whole thing was. If the game was more like it is in the adverts (see current Nike and Carling ads for examples), then the workd would be a happier place. Instead it's about big business, playing dirty and making pubs with TV screens uninhabitable for the rest of us. Drink with rugby fans watching the game and you'd hardly notice - with footie fans you can hardly hear yourself think.
What would be better: a life of blissfully ignorant underachievement, never doing your ideal job; or many years in a seemingly perfect job only to become disillusioned with the whole thing a few years down the line, shattering all your lifelong dreams?
Posted on May 05, 2004 | Comments (5)