When the Weather Outside is Frightful…

So, as it happens London is getting cold. Seriously cold. Probably not ‘Siberian-freeze-cold’ but rather nippy. Any temperature that’s closer to zero than 10 is in my book in fact very cold. I leave my flat in the morning and walk as fast as I possibly can (even if I’m not actually in a rush) to the underground station because it feels like my skin is so cold it will crumble up like paper and fall off should I not make it into the overstuffed, lukewarm and smelly insides of a train in time.

However, unlike myself it seems as if some of the city’s inhabitants have not yet noticed this temperature drop. I shall provide evidence to account for this. The past week I have observed the following behaviour despite sub-zero temperatures:

1. People wearing gloves (so far, so good, gloves are, as it were, useful in cold weather)… but no coat. First of all it just looks weird, I mean big, chunky gloves and a thin jumper without a coat. Either these people (men) must have an internal heating system implanted into their chests at birth, or there’s something I’ve missed.
2. People wearing (I thought this was an act of madness impossible to imagine until I saw it for myself a mere three days ago)… FLIP-FLOPS! Flip-flops in -5 degrees, mind you. How does a person’s toes not shrivel up and die in the cold, subsequently falling off from frost-bite like little, wrinkly carrots I ask? I felt like a daredevil today when I decided to wear my beloved Vagabond chelsea boots with very thin socks, thinking I would be alright (which, it turns out, I was but my toes were not. I’m still not entirely sure they will ever function properly again). But wearing flip-flops with excessive bare skin exposed to the cold is just pure madness, madness I tell you! (AND it doesn’t look aesthetically attractive when the feet protest against the weather by going bright pink…).
3. People (women) wearing flats or heels with no socks or tights. I know you want to look prim and proper for your job in the office-business-whatever-sector, but good woman, do yourself a favour and put on some sort of layer to protect your skin. Or wear wellies with woollen socks instead. Believe me, your feet will thank you later.

I heard that snow is expected this weekend all over the UK. Let’s hope for all the ‘non-coat-flipflop-no-socks-wearing’ people that it doesn’t actually happen (like it has in the photograph above).

Photo from picturesofwinter.net.

Tags: coat, cold, Humor, life, London, winter, winter season

When There’s Someone You Hate…

What do you do when there’s someone you hate? I came to think about this the other day when I was sitting on the tube on my way home after yet another Saturday shift. As it happens, there is someone at the store in which I work that I thoroughly hate. ‘Now, ‘hate’ is a strong word’ you say, and I completely agree. I don’t generally hate a lot of people. Some people I can’t stand because of their idiotic behaviour (the majority of the human race falls into this category), but I tend to be overbearing and polite even if I think they’re absolute twats. It just makes everything easier and as long as the idiots are relatively polite to me in turn, I don’t mind too much if they are in fact still idiots.

The colleague in question, however, I do dislike thoroughly (if not hate). Nevertheless, because I work with this person I will be forced to spend time in her presence every now and again and therefore I came to think of how I might approach the situation. Let’s first establish that I have been in my current position for almost a year and the person I dislike has been working in the same store for approximately two months. Hence, she is still considered a ‘newbie’ and therefore she has less authority because she lacks knowledge of how specific situations are to be handled. This is the law of the retail world (or any job when you’re the new kid on the block).

 The person I’m referring to is just annoying. She is condescending, rude, stubborn and lazy. She tends to single me out whenever I’m doing something productive and tells me ‘oh, you shouldn’t be doing it like that’ or jumps in randomly when I’m speaking to a customer as if she could be doing that job so much better. Generally, she just makes me wish for a quick and easy death every time we have to work together. But I am determined to NOT let her win. I will continue to be polite to her even if she’s not (which is the reason for me chirping ‘bye!’ to her yesterday with the most cheery voice I could master. She looked rather confused).

Anyway, all the above nonsense made me come up with different tactics one can employ depending on how much time you’ll have to spend with the person you hate:

1. 0 – 3 hours a week: there is no need whatsoever to be polite. If you have to see this person less than three hours a week, really, they can just piss off. Name-calling, talking about them behind their backs (or preferably when they are standing right next to you) and rude hand gestures are allowed. They brought this on themselves.
2. 3 – 8 hours a week: when you have to spend more than three hours a week with a person you hate, you’ll have to rethink your tactics. You will have to be in their presence on a regular basis and therefore it’s best to avoid creating an atmosphere of antagonism. However, you need not avoid being rude. Don’t say ‘please’ and order the person around as if they’re your subordinate (especially if they aren’t). ‘Do this’, ‘do that’ and ‘get to work’ are good examples.
3. 8 – 15 hours a week: this is were it gets tricky. You need to balance how rude or polite you are when you’re spending over eight hours a week with your nemesis. Preferably say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ but do so in a way that really says ‘do whatever I told you to, or I’ll stomp on your feet with my seven-inch heels’. Don’t offer them any of the muffins you brought in for someone’s birthday and if it’s their birthday completely ignore the event.
4. 15 – 30 hours a week: yikes. Spending more than 15 hours a week with a person you hate is not easy nor enjoyable. It also calls for more delicate tactics. The person in question must find himself/herself questioning whether you hate them or actually like them. Offer them the leftover half of fishpie in the staffroom fridge (which isn’t yours) when they’ve forgotten to bring their packed lunch, but neglect to tell them it’s gone bad. Tell them you really like that skirt they’re wearing and then ‘accidentally’ spill an entire pot of black coffee on the cream-coloured fabric, so it’s ruined for eternity.
5. 30 or more hours a week: fight it out with swords. There’s nothing else to do.

Cartoon by Hugh MacLeod at www.gapingvoid.com

Tags: hate, swordfight, tactics, when you hate someone, working

The Joys of Working in Retail

Since I’ve not been attending university for the past couple of weeks due to the Christmas holidays I have had significantly more time to attend to other areas of my existence: work. Yes, I made myself available to the store manager and the possibility of earning a bit of cash on a ‘call-me-if-you-need-me-’cause-I’m-willing-to-do-any-shift’ sort of basis (who said  ’work-a-whore’?). And so that’s what I’ve been doing. Working. Or at least pretending to do so… (which is a key ability one must possess in my current position). I work in retail as a sales assistant. There, I said it. I know, that particular statement is rather horrifying. If you don’t think so, I will be happy to provide a few examples of the joys of working in retail.

Firstly, I may add that I work in central London in one of the most busy shopping districts of the entire city. Secondly, I work at a particular store aimed at adolescent girls which offers everything in jewellery, hair accessories and makeup that one could ever imagine. One of the joys of working in retail which first comes to mind is the (physical) pain of having to be on your feet for eight whole hours. Only for a maximum of 30 mins do you get to sit down and rest those walking machines to regain some sense of mental force, which is what stops you from pretending you’ve somehow twisted your ankle and can’t walk for the rest of the day. I’d also like to propose that they assign ‘priority seats’ for retail workers on the underground. I mean, they have priority seating for pregnant women, the elderly and the physically disabled, why are people who work in retail left out? I bet you I need that seat more when travelling home on the tube after finishing my shift than the old git with the cane, who’s been sitting in his rocking chair all day.

Another of the vastly enjoyable aspects of working in retail is the one thing that I curse and love because it possesses the ability to make the working day miserable or tolerable: (customers) air conditioning. It seems it is always freezing in the winter and not quite cold enough in the summer when it is desperately needed. As I work in quite a large store with a lot of people, the AC setting is never on the perfect temperature and people go about changing it as they please. Furthermore, I always feel like a fish on dry land, gaping because I’m as dehydrated as a crusty Autumn leaf whenever the AC is turned on. I swear, that system is on a mission to suck the life out of me!

One thing that may actually be the death of me if the AC doesn’t get me first is the sales assistant’s worst enemy (no, not managers or supervisors): the customers. Where do I even begin? …. (thinking hard for several minutes while trawling through traumatic memories of encounters with said species. Of which there are several). Perhaps it would be useful to establish that ‘the customer’ is a creature which comes in as diverse varieties as one can think of. They roam the high streets of London quite freely and they obey only their natural shopping instincts. Due to the location of the store I work in these creatures are of all nationalities, ethnicities and ages although, due to the nature of the store, mostly female.

However, as I’ve learned through experience there is a collective of ‘types’, which I will attempt to outline here:

1. The Rude Customer (also known as ‘the bitch’, ‘the snob’ or ‘the hag’): usually female but can also be male. The nature of the rude customer is condescending, self-righteous and of a ‘I-don’t-need-your-help’ sort. Doesn’t mind being impolite, pushing past on their way out without an ‘excuse me’ or simply walking by while ignoring your ‘are you alright there, madam?’. Doesn’t mind yelling, cursing or harassing staff whenever the opportunity presents itself.
2. The Shop-Lifter: almost exclusively teenage or pre-adolescent girls. In the store we have a variety of ‘usual suspects’ (literally) who comprise of several groups of black teenage girls with strong East London accents, bad weaves and tongue piercings, a woman with dreadlocks and tribal tattoos on her entire face and ‘the gypsies’ (who aren’t actual gypsies but Eastern-European scarf-wearing women who sit at the tube station begging for food and money). And they all nick stuff.
3. The Regular: always a woman. The regular is a rarity at the store’s central London location, but on occasion I do see a lovely black lady who comes in to buy a clutch bag, a belt or a pair of earrings all the while she talks to me as if we’re old pals. Quite refreshing although slightly unsettling.
4. The Frenchman/woman: ‘I am Freeench…’ or ‘Du yu speak Freench?’ are probably the two most widely used phrases in the store. The French are generally nice but completely incapable of and/or unwilling to speak any English whatsoever. The words ‘help’ or ‘okay’ don’t seem to be in their vocabulary despite these being somewhat international terms.  It also seems that ‘I am Freeench’ is a perfectly valid excuse for not attempting to understand the inhabitants of the country to which they have chosen to travel. What do you think the French would say if I tried speaking English to them in France? I’d likely be ignored (as has happened) or given a nasty look full of contempt (as has happened). Learn to speak-y-English s’il-vous-plaît!
5. The Complainer: nine out of ten times female (women are just better at complaining). The complainer complains about anything they deem relevant from the price of the in-store products, the return policy (which is explicitly stated on signs at every till point AND on all receipts) to the music, the selection or condition of products and the staff. All around annoying.
6. The Jew: totally exclusively female and always wearing the same navy-black-brown uniform of kneelength skirt, small scarf to keep the brownish bob in place, very little to no makeup and sensible black shoes with a tiny heel. No cleavage on display anywhere. Does not like being approached at all. The Jew is polite but very dismissive (I take it she doesn’t like socializing with the infidels).
7. The Stalker: exclusively male. Only comes into the store to try and attain a phone number from a particular sales assistant. I have been the victim of the stalker a few times myself. It’s not pretty and includes dust-ridden pick-up lines such as ‘I just walked by and you were so beautiful that I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t ask you out on a date’. Cheese on toast, mr. Stalker (and now piss off! I’m busy trying to look like I’m busy).
8. The Nice Customer: ah, at last! The nice customer is a rare creature of the customer species but can be both male and female. This customer acknowledges the sales assistant’s ‘hello there’, politely declines help if not needed or happily accepts it with a ‘thank you’. Smiles and is all around very pleasant to talk to. I only wish there were more of them out there!

 

Tags: customer service, Humor, life, personal, retail, sales assistant, working

A Horrible Phenomenon and Don Draper

Now, this is a matter which has been on my mind for quite sometime. It is a phenomenon which seems to spread like a disease and it manifests itself everywhere in London. It is (gasp, shock, horror!): men with long fingernails! ‘Really?’ you say and my answer is YES, this disgusting habit does indeed exist (it is not just a fabricated out of my worst nightmare). I observe said phenomenon on an almost daily basis when I travel on the London underground, and it is truly horrifying. Now, let’s look at the pros and cons for men with long fingernails.

PROS

1. Long fingernails are handy when you have an itchy back. The man in question can also scratch his own bum or his, ar-hem, crotch area (which does, however, require some delicacy! Long nails can be sharp…).
2. Long fingernails can be used as toothpicks. You’ll never have to worry about not having a toothpick on you when you’re at restaurant with pieces of veal between your teeth.
3. Long fingernails can be used as a plectrum when you want to play the Ukulele (as we all do….).

CONS

1. Long fingernails are rather off-putting to females. It JUST ain’t sexy, so no need to put on those ‘lucky boxers’.
2. Long fingernails can be quite difficult to maneuver when you want to a) go to the toilet to do ‘number 2′, b) have sex or c) get in a fight (it will be rather difficult to avoid breakage of at least one nail when closing your fist to strike a punch. Maybe just go with slapping – that suits the girly qualities of the long nails anyway).
3. Long fingernails will gain you no respect from your ‘home-boys’ or other males in general as you will be categorized as a ‘sissy’.
4. Long fingernails break more easily (auch!).

I think the CONS outweight the PROS by far, but you choose yourself. If you’re more the ‘scratchy-tooth-picking-Ukulele-playing’ kinda guy, then so be it. I will however suggest an alternative: (drumroll, please) mr. Don Draper. He embodies the well-groomed man with perfect 1950′s hair who manages to be pretty in a masculine way (something the ladies like as well, I daresay!). AND, he has got nicely cut, short fingernails. If all the men on the underground could just learn from Don, I would be a happy bunny.

Watch and learn, men, watch and learn.

Tags: cons, Don Draper, fingernails, Humor, London underground, Mad Men, men, pros

‘Most Loved’ of the Moment

I’ve recently had a few days off from work, which means I’ve been lazying about the house (cleverly avoiding my housemates who will from now on go by the name of ‘the crazies’… Sociopath and compulsive liar are just far too long titles to type). I’ve for once had time to do all the things I normally don’t such as reading books, sleeping in and shopping for bits and bobs (another post coming up soon!). The lazying about part also means I’ve had time to think about this blog post which is a list of my ‘most loved’ at the moment. Great, so here we go.

‘Most loved’

• ‘This Model Life’: series filmed about ten years ago wherein stars the Erin O’connor and the lovely ‘A Model Recommends’ writer Ruth Crilly. What I love about this documentary series of three parts is that it shows both the glamorous and positive sides of being a model as well as the downsides and the hard work that has to be put into it if one wants to make a carreer out of it. AND you get to hear Jean-Paul Gaultier speak English ‘wis a wery Freench accent’. Series can only be watched by UK residents at Channel 4oD, I’m afraid.

• Wasabi-coated peanuts: just delicious! Stings a bit up your nose, if you eat too many of them at a time. Great as a ‘wake-up cure’ for a hangover. Can be bought at any large supermarket, online or in Asian specialist food shops.

• Collection 2000 ‘Lasting Perfection’ concealer: so creamy, so easy to apply and a nice amount of coverage. I’ve been in love with my Maybelline ‘Pure Mineral’ concealer since I first discovered it almost two years ago, but I like the coverage that the Collection 2000 one gives – it just seems to be that bit more bright (sorry, Maybelline). You can get it online or at nearly any drugstore that sells makeup.

• Paz’ leather boots from Pieces (http://shop.bestseller.com/pieces/shoes/PAZLEATHERBOOT-BLUE/17036131,en_GB,pd.html?dwvar_17036131_colorPattern=17036131_MIDNIGHTBLUE): ‘sneakers for the winter, you must be crazy’ you say – BUT these are real leather AND they have the most lovely, soft fur inside. I always have cold feet, but I’ve experienced none of that with these babies. They are currently on sale and come in brown and black as well, should you be that way inclined.

• Elizabeth Arden ‘Eight Hour Cream’: this has got to be the one beauty staple I will always have with me. I use the ‘Eight Hour Cream’ for lips, dry hands and cuticles and it is the most amazing product. I remember going on a holiday for two weeks a couple of years back where I forgot (aaarrrrghhhh!) to bring my trusty tube of gooeyness. What an utter disaster. When I came back from this holiday my lips were so dry that they kept on cracking. I had to do an ‘Eight Hour Cream’ recovery cure in order to get my lips back to normal. Needless to say, I’ve never forgotten to bring it with me when travelling since then. You can get Elizabeth Arden’s products in department stores such as Selfridges, in drugstores or online.

• SALE: anywhere, at the moment! There are so many great bargains to be found at the minute, online and in stores. Most loved are feelunique.com, ASOS.com and Boots. I love shopping sales online because I can’t be bothered trawling through piles of clothes only to discover the t-shirt I want is nowhere to be found in my size. At least online you can see what sizes are available instantly. Also, it saves time of having to push around between other persistent shoppers and eleminates the subsequent evil stares when you have to tell people to ‘get your fat fingers off those boots, you b….’. After all, you saw them first (online, however, there is no hazzle and no catfights).

Tags: beauty, Collection 2000, Elizabeth Arden, Erin O'connor, fashion, makeup, Maybelline, sale, Wasabi

Pub Crawls and Essays

So, I’ve finally turned in the essay I’ve been (not) working on over the Christmas holiday – hurrah! Yesterday I was working on it somewhat manically… and with a slight hangover. Yes, I did the ‘not-so-very-clever’ thing and let myself be corrupted into attending a pub crawl. One of my best friends works at a hostel here in London, and as we hadn’t seen each other since before Christmas, Saturday night seemed the perfect opportunity (= disaster in the making). Actually, I was quite proud of myself for not getting home disasterously late and not being too off my face to forget to change tubes at Green Park. Well done, me!

The night did, however, include:

• Shots of Sambuca, Vodka and some sort of unidentifiable coconutty liquid.
• 1 lost scarf (£1 from Primark – not a great tragedy, just sort of annoying. It was nice, soft and cream-coloured. Now I expect it’s lying about somewhere in a ‘lost and found’ box in a pub in central London. If anyone finds it, I’d like to have it back, thanks.).
• 1 strange bruise on my left thumb. I’m sure it was bleeding at some point, though I have no recollection of how it came about (hmm, maybe not so sober after all).
• Lots of crazy dancing (I recall at one point that my friends and I formed a circle in which an Asian girl started busting really awkwardly poor break dancing moves. Hilarious I might add).
• Writing inappropriate and very insulting phrases on everyone’s official ‘pub crawl t-shirts’ with purple markers. Really good fun, I’d say. (I came home with statements along the lines of: ‘I like (little) girls’ and ‘I don’t cost as much as you think’).

As a result of the above mentioned activites I had to sleep in yesterday. The rest of the day I spent typing like a crazy person to finish the last bits and pieces on my essay. Thankfully, it was completed at 21:11 last night, phew! Pub crawl was a nice break from the crazies I live with as well, so fingers crossed that it didn’t harm the outcome of my essay too much. Oh, and I almost forgot: the night also included a heavyset man twirling around a stripper pole. The visuals were nothing short of exceptional.

Tags: dancing, essay, hangover, London, pub crawl, tube, writing

I live with a Sociopath and a Compulsive Liar

No, the title is not an exaggeration (sadly). I’ve recently returned to London from my parents’, and so I came home to the lovely surprise of being informed by the landlord’s agent that my housemate had indeed not paid her part of our rent since last month. Brilliant. Especially since she LIED to my face about it before I went on my Christmas holiday. She lies all the time. To other people and probably also to herself. It is SO frustrating. Even when I confronted her about the case that she hasn’t paid her rent, she actually had the audacity of lying to me again as she maintaned that she definately had. I mean, come on. I may believe the best about people until they prove me wrong, but I am not going to be as stupid as to believe an obvious lie – and certainly not twice!

Said housemate is 29 years old, so she’s supposed to be a grown-up. However, she does not act like one at all. Most of the time she acts like a little stubborn child who refuses to admit that she’s wrong, even when there is obvious evidence against her. She just keeps on lying. And not just about rent, but also about why the internet is suddenly cut off by our provider or about how much her boss loves her. It’s like lying is compulsive to her. Get a grip, woman!

Oh, and it gets better. Her boyfriend (who wasn’t supposed to live in the house and isn’t stated on the contract) is a sociopath (or at least suffers from ‘Antisocial Personality Disorder’). No, I am still not exaggerating. He is a 33 year-old drummer and skater and besides these doesn’t do much. He has brief jobs a couple of times every three months doing construction work but otherwise he spends his time sitting on his arse watching TV or complaining about everything and everyone. And then he has loud fights with the compulsive liar including name-calling, door-slamming and breaking of diverse items in his reach.

Antisocial Personality Disorder:

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders published by the American Psychiatric Association defines antisocial personality disorder as:

A) There is a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three or more of the following:

1. failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;
2. deception, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;
3. impulsiveness or failure to plan ahead;
4. irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;
5. reckless disregard for safety of self or others;
6. consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations;
7. lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another;

B) The individual is at least age 18 years.

C) There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 16 years.

D) The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.

 

Wow. It fits him to a T. Any suggestions on how to deal with said compulsive liar and her boyfriend are very welcome.

Tags: antisocial personality disorder, compulsive liar, housemates, psychology, psychopath, rent, sociopath

‘Space Jam’ and the Wisdom of Michael Jordan

It’s a new year, and I spent the first day of it lying about in the couch (instead of working on the essay I have to be done with in about a week. Brilliant). Flicking through the channels on the TV I suddenly discovered that they were showing ‘Space Jam’. I loved this movie when I was a kid and Michael Jordan was awesome in it – what a treat!

Things we can learn from ‘his airness’:

• ‘Always turn a negative situation into a positive situation.’ Well said indeed. Now, how can I make this essay write itself?
• That ‘bald’ doesn’t have to mean ‘ugly’.
• ‘I’ve always believed that if you put in the work, the results will come.’ (Now, Michael, I think you’ve got this wrong. Hard work is the work of the devil, the devil I tell you!).
• That the Chicago-Bulls-red colour compliments darker skintones.
• ‘Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game.’ And so we will. Who’s got popcorn and beer?
• How to FLY. (‘I belieeeeve I can flyyy. I believe I can touch the skyyy….’) 

Tags: basketball, Humor, Looney Tunes, Michael Jordan, quotes, Space Jam, sport, wisdom

Skeletons in the Closet: A How-To Guide to Ex-boyfriend Exorcism

Oh, crap… That was my initial thought yesterday when I was rummaging through some old boxes of clothes at my parents’ house and found the following: 1 pair of shorts which he gave me ages ago, 1 birthday card and 1 pair of slippers he stole for me when we were at a hotel together. I drifted back and forth trying to decide what to do with these items. I already mailed him everything that reminds me of him weeks ago, maybe it would be overkill to send him a second parcel? Hence, I sought help from one of my closest male friends who wasn’t slow to make a decision for me and ordering me to ‘burn it’. After a wee bit of consideration (I’m not sure fire and plasticy hotel slippers would be such a fine match) I decided to take a huge pair of scissors and end the life of said shorts, birthday card and slippers. Let’s just say, they didn’t die a peaceful death.

Today I called him for the last time. After he left me more than a month ago I asked him to let me know when he was going to leave the UK and where he would be off to. It was the only thing I wanted from him. I knew the moment he’d left me he wasn’t going to stay in the country, but would run right back to his favourite hiding place: New Zealand. I found out from a mutual friend that he’d made this decision a week ago. And, lo and behold, without telling me. So I sent him a text message requesting said information to which he replied this morning confirming that it is indeed New Zealand he’s going to return to as soon as his visa comes through.

A smart person would have left it at that, but I decided to call him anyway. He said he was sorry for the way things have turned out and for hurting me, but I’m not sure I really believe that. He’s only sorry that the fact I’m hurt has made his so-called conscience feel uneasy. I didn’t say much on the phone, neither one of us did. I’m not really sure why I called. I guess it was the last little bit of closure I needed. He answered the question that’s been on my mind ever since I sent him that box with the letters I wrote and; no, he hasn’t read them yet. He had planned to read them today what with it being the last day of the year and all. I hope he does. I genuinely hope he does.

And just like that, it’s over. He will no longer be part of my life, and I will no longer be part of his. (Performing manic exorcist-like spasms). I shall be cleansed, the evil spirit extracted and at last I will be free. I just deleted his phone number.

How-to guide to Ex-boyfriend Exorcism:

• Step 1: cry. A lot (it helps take the edge off the feeling of utter despair). Preferably while listening to music (did anyone say Adele?). Make sure to have Kleenex available.
• Step 2: eat. A lot (it helps take the edge off the feeling of depression). Preferably only eat things that contain over 30% fat pr. 100 g. Vegetables and fruit are banned.
• Step 3: talk. A lot (it helps take the edge off the feeling of loneliness). Preferably talk to anyone who cares to listen, even the smelly hobo on the tube.
• Step 4: yell. Quite loudly (it helps take the edge off the feeling of resentment). Preferably yell at the ex-boyfriend in question but yelling into a nice, fluffy pillow will do as well. If you’re not the ‘yelling’ type write him a long letter, rather a novel, and force him to read it.
• Step 5: exorcise. Thoroughly (it helps take the edge off the feeling of hatred). Preferably gather all items which remind you of said ex-boyfriend (clothes, presents, photos etc.) and send everything in a big box for him to deal with. If ever you find anything left behind after you’ve sent this box feel free to demolish it using scissors, other sharp instruments or fire. Make sure you’ve said everything you wanted to (including perfectly valid statements such as:  ’your arse crack always smelled like poo when we had sex’ or ‘no, it’s not normal to be that hairy’) and DELETE (yes, I said delete) Skype conversations, Facebook  messages, e-mails, text messages and his phone number.
• Step 6: freedom (includes sleeping with hot DJ’s, eating cereal straight out of the packet, not shaving your legs when you don’t feel like it and doing whatever you want to).

Tomorrow’s a new day. A new year. Anything is possible. Happy New Year’s.

Tags: cleansing, ex-boyfriend, how-to guide, love, New Year's resolution, spirit, The Exorcist

HA – I win!

Yesterday was his birthday and I DIDN’T send him any spiteful text messages or anything that remotely suggests that I acknowledged this event. HA! That’s all I have to say. I’m so proud of mysef for not giving in to the urge of contacting him in any way. The little voice in the back of my head told me to not let him have the satisfaction of it (in reality he probably hasn’t even thought about me or the lack of communication on my side – oh, well). Somebody hand me a gold star!

Other battles I’ve won:

• Wearing the same nail varnish for a total of  5½ days with no chipping (Revlon’s ‘Gold Coin’ with Essie top coat – a definite winner for New Year’s).
• Discovering, hid away in the corner of a small H&M, the dress I’ve been wanting ever since I saw it at the Oxford Circus branch. It was nowhere to be found in a size 6 – until a few days ago!! It’s a mauvy-pinky-ish colour, lace and with tiny sleeves on it, and it’s what I’ll wear for New Year’s as well.
• Managing to do nothing for two days straight other than watching movies and savouring Christmas leftovers.

Battles I’ve definitely lost:

• Not gaining weight during the Christmas season. What can I really say – it was bound to happen.
• Pretending to not want to watch ‘Jersey Shore’.
• Regular excercise. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t be arsed.
• Ever growing taller. Say, to the height of Erin Wasson or Helena Christensen. It just ain’t gonna happen.
• Not being bitter about my recent break-up (I can feel liquid bitternes seeping through my bones just at the thought of him).

Battles yet to be fought:

• Rummaging through my (vast) collection of shoes to find a pair for New Year’s Eve.
• Honestly, 2012 is going to bring change as far as my current life style goes. I used to be a massive health freak, running and eating properly but studying, working and cough, cough, ’socialising’ have seemed to steer me well away from the path of healthiness. I miss the days of feeling energized instead of energy-zapped!
• Starting Uni and work again after the Christmas break (I mean, really, who wants all that hard work? It’s just exhausting! I think we should just ban it).

Tags: birthday, ex-boyfriend, H&M, love, New Year's Eve, poodle