Post 1

I can’t begin to describe how much I hate coming up with names of things. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to name my child. My one and only goldfish had a weekly name because I couldn’t make my mind up. Although, most of my problem is not indecision, it’s lack of skill. Unfortunately, coming up with names for things is something I have to do on a weekly basis. During the naming process I develop some weird thesaurus-y tourettes where I just start yelling out random words or alliterations (they’re always an easy win: Terror Train, Slaughter on the Streets). To me, the whole thing is just as a pointless exercise as spending copious amounts of time trying to choose wrapping paper: both will inevitably thrown in the bin.

I just don’t understand why people don’t like the minimalistic approach of naming things like ‘Idea 1’ or, if they want more detail, ‘The idea that involves some kind of talking panda’.

On another note, I’ve been neglecting my blog for the last couple of months. I’m severely unmotivated at the moment. Nothing I go to write seems interesting to me let alone anyone else anymore. Cynicism and apathy has truly taken over. Maybe I’ll snap out of it, I hope I will, but maybe it’s time for something new.

Snow guns

Adrenalin is the only explanation for the story I'm about to tell you. Well, that or my 2.5 kilo weights are doing way more than I thought. You know those moments when you have these blazing realisations like 'I don't know how to make fire' or 'how do you spear a fish'? Well, I realised the first time we got the car stuck in the snow while on holiday in the Cotswolds that I am so city. I have no idea how cars get out of snow. I have no idea which way wheels are supposed to be spun. And while trying to dig a wheel out of the snow with a spade for midgets, I realised I didn't really know the right snow shoveling technique either. However, I also realised none of this matters when you're in the heat of the moment. Somehow, your body just knows what to do. So picture two city kids in the middle of a dark, snowy country road. We have missed our turn off because the stupid iphone GPS blob is about 5 minutes delayed and those fold out maps are so 90's. Luke decides to do a three point turn in the middle of the road. Bad idea as the car gets stuck in the snow on a slightly downward incline on the side of the road. I decide to get out and push seeing as though I don't have my midget shovel with me. As I'm doing a rather pathetic push with the wheels spraying snow in my face, I notice the headlights of an oncoming car in the distance. Luke sees it too. He begins to doubt my strength and asks whether I know how to reverse the car. I am indignant. The stupidity of this question (as I have been driving since I was 16 and he knows this) combined with the car in the distance awakens something animalistic and hulk-like inside me. So I grunt and start pushing the car out of the snow like a fucking workhorse ploughing frozen potato fields in Communist Russia. The car is free and the three point turn is complete. It is an understatement to say I was pleased with myself.

Welcome to 2011.