in praise of boredom

Living too much of an exciting life? Time to unlock your inner potential and get boring

Not everyone leads an exciting life. Then again, exciting lives are not for everyone. Not everyone goes to glitzy 'bashes' (that's what exciting people call parties), or winters in the South Sea (exciting people often take nouns and verbify them up to make them more exciting, too), or flies out to exotic locations for a 'shoot' (exciting people are always doing this kind of thing, I'm told. I'm not 100% sure why). And not everyone wants that kind of excitement. After all, what have exciting people got on a cup of tea and an episode of Downton Abbey? Nothing, that's what.

not even a little bit exciting

 It's easy to be exciting and host dinner parties and work on 'projects' and 'travel' (cough, holiday) and 'winter' and 'do' things all the time. That's what exciting people are always at, whether they're posh and living in a silvery space house, or urban and trendy and living in some 'warehouse' making sculptures. They're always 'doing' things. I say, sod doing, and start doing nothing. 

It takes a special kind of skill to live a boring life. There can be dark days. Dark nights. Dark times when you don't know if you can go on, and are tempted to end your Boring Life by hosting a luncheon and wearing a cocktail suit. Boringness can be difficult to stomach. It can be hard. It is hard. But it's not a choice, rather a calling. To live a boring life is a big ask. But it's a challenge I, as a purveyor of the Boring Life, am willing to rise to.

Tumbleweed: a frequent visitor to somewhere boring

Take a look at some of the signs that you, too, are eligible for the dull/boring life of the do-nothing.

1 Every time you go out you go to the same place, with the same people, drink the same crappy wine, say the same mildly diverting things and go home at the same time. Who needs variation when you can have the same thing every week?

2 You watch the same movies over and over again because of a reluctance to get 'involved' in a storyline that you're not familiar with. That's why I've seen the same five movies way more than five times.

3 You would go to your lectures every week... but staying on the couch is just too much of a Yes.

4 You want to read a book... but magazines are just easier.

5 You look at your cat and envy her easy, warm, and (may I say) boring life. The life of a cat. What's not to like?

This is living

6 You've only got 10 hours a week at college, and already you're fearing the day you'll have to actually do some real work. Shudder. 

7 You go to sleep and look forward to breakfast. I don't know why, but it always strikes me as a clear indication that you are cut out for less-than-exciting times in your life if you look forward to eating cornflakes.

And yes, I do all of the above. It takes a certain kind of verve (I like to call it 'excellence', myself) to be a boring lifestylist. So, go on, embrace your boring side, and bon bore!

And now for another Mildly Interesting Thing You Might Like:

This artist, Oliver Jeffers, writes kids' books but also draws great random pictures which you can see on his website here. Lots of them have the sea and rain and little cute people in them. Well worth a wander over to!

child-lock caps and other irritating inventions

Think twice the next time you recline your seat in economy class while wearing a fringed sweater and clutching a maths trophy. You will feel my wrath. 

Hello loyal someones. During my search for cold cures the other day, I discovered a magical bottle of turquoise blue cough syrup that claimed to be a hybrid of peach and vanilla flavors that I think the entire world should be aware of. I know. A cough syrup that tastes like vanilla and sweet peach. Where has this been all my life? Humph. We shall soon find out.

I took the bottle from its box, set the plastic measuring cup on the tabletop, and twisted the cap. Of course, it was a child-lock cap. That's what this cold-cure confection had been hiding behind.

Which leads me to this list, one of those that goes under the heading of So Angry I Made A List. So here we are. Child-lock caps and Other Inventions I Hate.

trying to trick me by
being smartie-coloured

1. Child-Lock Caps
These are not child-lock caps. I am 19 years old, almost 20, and it takes me ten minutes to remove a 'child-proof' cap with the aid of a toothpick and a teacloth. I have a cousin who has been plucking those lids off Calpol bottles since she was eight. If you don't want your children to run around gulping down copious amounts of golden-tinged Benylin For Dry Cough syrup, then do what it says on the tin: KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. Child-proof bottle-stoppers are not child-proof. They work against certain people (e.g. me) and glide off effortlessly for others (who could easily be your 4-year-old niece). Whoever came up with this sucks. And besides, there are far more dangerous things that kids can get their hands on these days. Like knives (only a drawer handle away!), paperweights, and a copy of Miley Cyrus' latest album.

2. Reclining Seats in Economy Class
The inventor of these was clearly trying to do a good deed, and make Economy class more bearable for you and me and everyone we know (except for that person that we all know who flies first class and then moans about how long the flight was - we've got other things to contend with, lady. Like teeny television screens, people sleeping on top of us, and the fat guy in front of us who reclines his seat and squishes our legs for ten hours). However, he failed, and instead succeeded in making economy class A LIVING NIGHTMARE, where Daniel Radcliffe is right up in your face fighting ghosts.
On top of this, I can never get my seat to recline. Oh, cruel world.

3. School Prize Day
Who enjoys this? Every year on the 24th of May our school had possibly the longest prize day in the country. One one hand, it was the only day in the year when the nerds could finally be recognized. And when they were recognised, they drove us all crazy. Yes, you won a prize for maths. No, I don't particularly care. On the other, our prize day had the added fun of rewarding nobodies. People got prizes for manners. Prizes for neat uniforms. Prizes for shoe-tying. The principal talked about climate change. The RE teachers talked about the 'Living Community' (still unsure what this means. But am intrigued to know about the Dead Community which they never seemed to mention). Sixth years talked about God.
Whoever invented prizes for school should really be noted for being one of the worst inventors in modern history.

4. Fringe
This has been wrong ever since the days of the Wild West Texas Ranger. And it's still wrong. It will never be right. Dangling pieces of faux-suede tacked onto your handbag/jacket/shoe is just never going to be a good look. Ever. Same goes for wrap dresses on the overweight, leggings on the over-forties, and patterned tights on pretty much anyone.

5. 9am Lectures, 2pm Lectures and 5pm Lectures On The Same Day
Yes, I've only got ten hours a week. Yes, I know most people work from nine through two and until five, but that is arguably less irritating than coming in at nine and then either having to go home for half an hour before rushing out the door again, or sticking around and wasting away in some godforsaken corner of the Science Building. What can you do from eleven to two that's in any way productive? Go to the gym? And what are we supposed to do from three until five? Read?
Not cool, college, not cool.

And a Mildly Interesting Thing I found during the week:

This movie, which I saw last year at 2am on some godforsaken channel after an ill-advised night out: The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie, if you're being all art house), is being re-released this month (it's from 1972). It's a bit of a gem if you like swish European stuff (sort of), posh people (sort of), intrigue (sort of), missing dinner dates (sort of), hallucinations (sort of), 70s French fashion, and drug mix-ups (sort of). And who doesn't? Come on, it's old and it's French and it doesn't have Kristen Stewart in it.

no K-Stew over there... or over here... 

Check it out! And bon Blog!

the swot, the slacker, and some bad exams

The usual suspects of the exam hall, all compared to the master of brain-related exploits, the Brain from Pinky and the Brain

The more familiar you become with exam halls, the more familiar you become with those that lie within. And who are they? The swot, the overconfident one, and, everyone's favourite, the slacker. Bon appetite.

1. The One Who Thinks They Know Everything

thinks is the Brain. Is not the Brain.

Before:
Ugh. Met her at the start of my first exam. She was chattering away at full speed to a group of vaguely interested onlookers about how she 'read this great book about ha ha Chaucer ha ha'.
This is NOT FUNNY. What is funny about that? We all read a great book about Chaucer. It was on our bloody course.

What not to say: The above two sentences.

During:
You can just see her. Scribbling notes down like the new time. Asking for more paper. Looking anxiously around. Fixing her nails. Going to the bathroom. Asking questions that go unanswered. Taking off her jumper. Putting it on. Scratching her leg. Drinking water. Eating.
Distracting it may be, but it is a bit of a funny meltdown.

After:
Comes out laughing. Chats about how she 'didn't know it but answered it anyway' (followed by an expectant look: what do you want, a round of applause?) then sweeps off to go and get coffee before the next exam.

See Also: don't bother, this one's in a league of her own

2. The One Who 'Doesn't Know Anything' But Actually Knows Everything

is actually the Brain

Before:
'Stressing' about how he doesn't know anything, peering out over his perfectly-ordered folder.
Seriously, he says, I know nothing!

What not to say: 'I know nothing!' - you'll only encourage him.

During:
Scribbling like a madman, scratching tiny, beautiful words into the yellow paper with his one pen. Finishes 10 minutes before the end and spends that time LOOKING OVER IT.
(Who does that?)

After:
Quietly agreeing with everyone who tells him they failed. Definitely, he says, didn't know anything.
But we know. Oh, we know. We see that twinkle in his wily eyes. We know that he knows, well, everything.

See also: the Eager Beaver, the Perfectionist, the Overconfident Achiever


3. The One Who Actually Doesn't Know Anything

is nothing like the Brain

Before:
She's late. She doesn't have her student card but evades a fine like all good slackers.

During:
Writes idly, like she's doing a crossword (I don't think she knows what a crossword is, though). Draws on her arm and is given out to by the supervisor. Goes to the bathroom every 15 minutes before leaving after an hour.

After:
Probably spent the last hour of the exam outside smoking. Because that's where she is when everyone else comes out. Overheard talking about 'some Medieval shit' to a cool friend.

See also: The 'Why Not?' Repeat Student, The Too Cool For School Kid

I haven't planned ahead enough to tell you what I'll be writing about next, but meantime look at these:

http://funnyexam.com/ - as seen on the Graham Norton show and including such gems as this:

And catch up with the Brain again: 

http://www.warnervideo.com/pinkyandthebrain/

Bon Blog!

to blog or not to blog: the perils of decision making in an increasingly decision-orientated world

When starting a blog is more like starting an argument. With yourself.

This is the house I'm going to live in when I stop
procrastinating and  get a real job

Look what I found during my standard I'll-trawl-through-folders-on-my-laptop-and-see-what-hides-therein procrastination technique. This was written when I was about to start blogging. Not just thinking about blogging. Not just signing up to Blogger.com and chickening out before writing anything down. 


No. This time, blogging was about to happen, and it was about to happen to me. Well, that's what I thought. Here's how that Mind Conversation panned out. 


(I'll give you a hint: not very well.) 

I was ready. Boy, was I ready, armed with my cup of tea and my obligatory silver-foil covered biscuit. I had absolutely no messages on my phone. I had no pressing concerns to be concerned about. I had my cardi on. I even had A Place By The Sea on mute in the background. At that moment, you could have accused me of being pathetic. You could have accused me of being overly preoccupied with whether or not a foil-covered biscuit really was the way to go, when an equally tempting Mikado was peering out of the tin. But you could not have accused me of not being what I most certainly was- ready.

And? 


Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I sat in front of my laptop and I realised, not for the first time in my life, that I had nothing to say. 


I sat there for a while. I sat there for another while. And then I started to doubt my very existence. Could it be that I really have no thoughts on anything? Do I not care about something? Is there nothing that I have to say to the world? Nothing at all? 


Apparently not. I officially had no opinions to share with the rest of the world. My blank blog page confirmed it. I was not a blogger. I had no thoughts. I was a failure. 

But I wasn’t going to take that failure lying down. No, son. I decided instead that I would be a Specific Blogger. That is, I would be an expert in some kind of field. 


The only problem was, I wasn’t an expert in any field.  


What could I blog about? What did other people blog about? Other people blogged about fashion, I thought. They write about fashion. You know. Clothes. Glasses. Chanel. Fashion bloggers are cool. They have polaroid cameras and they take pictures of stuff. The last thing I took a photo of was a sign that said GORILLA CORROSION on it. I don’t know what GORILLA CORROSION is, but it was written on a van, and I thought it was funny. 

monday knight madness

You know you've hit a low point in your life when you find yourself saying - actually saying, aloud, like talking - 'Mordred is king? Tch, I don't want Mordred to be king! What? Who wrote this? WHO WROTE THIS?'

Welcome to the bottom of the world. The pit, if you will, of doom.

That's the kind of thing I'm saying to myself at 7 o'clock on a Monday night while other people are getting ready to go out, get the shift, get moving, get pizza, or get something. The only thing I'm getting is annoyed because some 15th century dude made Mordred king while Arthur was in France. And then he let him take over and ruin everything. Well, he let the people let him take over. It's a long story.
(Should've said Spoiler Alert there really - sorry for ruining all those surprises.)

The worst part is, I don't even hate Mordred that much. Why am I talking to myself about something I don't even care about? The only reason I even know who he is is because I've got a tutorial on the Death of Arthur in two days. I'm not into the fantasy genre. The only thing I knew about Guinevere before I read it was that her name sounded sort of like Genevieve, and Keira Knightley played her in that crap Clive Owen version. Before last week Mordred wasn't even a thing.

... so that's what was happening in Camelot when Mordred took over

bored yet?

I know I am. That's why I thought it was time to recap on My Boring Week.
What happened this week, Shona?
Well, this week was very boring, blog. Let me explain.

Bit of an overstatement

life goals: part one

Right. Let’s get this thing started.
Life Goals:
1 getting it started (see above)
2 getting it done
3 getting it done without getting metaphorically/literally Smushed by something/one.

HOW TO ACHIEVE SAID ‘LIFE GOALS’:

1. Getting It Started.
A vital step in the process of doing Anything.
You see, I find that some people think they have it all sorted. They think they have, if you will, the Fox in the Bag. The course. The job. The girl. The guy. The praise. The glory.
These people are all wrong. You see, the key to having it all sorted, to having, excuse the gesture, the Book on the Shelf, is this: Doing by Undoing.
If you are like me, you have this proverbial Car in the Garage due to an overwhelming ability to be lazy and to also get it done.
Watch and learn...

punctuation lessons

... another Important Thing

Thought punctuation was all about the commas and apostrophes? Think again. As I discovered today, there is a whole other world of punctuation out there that I was horrifically unaware of. The shame! THE SHAME! Oh, it’s horrible, it’s horrible. Not knowing this kind of USEFUL information meant that I would be more suited to giving tours of Machu Piccu than ‘reading’ English. When I lived in those dark times of Not Knowing How To Put A Line Into My Essay, I would have been better at pointing out historical archaeological details about a place that I had never been to than sitting down reading something that had been written in the 1700s by some guy with five slaves and 300 acres. Without even considering the question, To Put In Inverted Commas or Not To Put In Inverted Commas, I was blind to the real study of English. The Real Stuff.

But, all jokes aside, seriously.
Seriously. One day in front of the television and I’d learn what the weather was like in Turin. One day in an English class and I learn that when you use the dash (‘The Hyphen’), you must leave a space either side so that the lecturer correcting your essay won’t have an actual stroke. It transforms this sentence of made-up words that my lecturer likes to pontificate with, from this

Neutrally explicified-

To this:

Neutrally explicified –

I know. Totally different, right?

the questionable land of punctuation marks