Sunday, 26 October 2014

Lack of Sunday Challenge due to WOE.

Today is supposed to be Sunday Challenge Day.  Instead, it...well, isn't.  Or at least, if I have issued a challenge to myself it is simply to try not to feel like crap.  Because this is me, right now, with added Eeyore-esque rain cloud floating above my head...

I know.  Sexy.

I am suffering from what I have decided to call "(wo)man flu."  It's basically a bad cold, but combined with my asthma, I currently feel as though a small elephant has decided to take up residence on my chest and my breathing is so heavy that I sound as though I'm making a dirty phone call.  I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself and so this week's Sunday Challenge has disappeared into the same mysterious place my sense of wellness has gone.  I'm hoping it'll be back next Sunday, because I've actually planned next week's challenge in advance and it's gonna be gooooood.  Yes, every single one of those Os were necessary,  In fact, I may go back and add a few more...

Unfortunately, coming down with a cold has not been the only crappy thing that has happened this week.  As you can see from the above photo, I no longer have a fringe.  Considering I have a forehead that could rival Ant McPartlin's, this is not something that occurred by choice.  

Those readers who know me in "real life" (I'm told such a place exists...) or who've been reading this blog for a long time (in which case, your long service medal is in the post) will know that when left to grow naturally, my hair is pretty much an Afro.  Yes, I am a weedy white girl with hair like Mel B.  Because when Mother Nature created me, she wanted to be sure there was nothing that couldn't be mocked, clearly.  In the interest of fairness, I'm going to post a photo of my hair looking au natural.  Shield your eyes if you're of as nervous disposition...

Yes I'm hugging a mannequin.  It was a phase I was going through...

And yes, in case you're wondering, my blog title - The Rambling Curl - is a reference to my untamed tresses.  Often, well-meaning people tell me how lucky I am to have such natural curls.  But believe me, when you walk into a hair salon and have stylists refuse to cut your hair because they don't "do" that type, you don't feel lucky.  When you have to spend a fortune on anti-frizz products, you don't feel lucky.  When you can't get your hair into any of the same, pretty styles your friends can, you don't feel lucky.  Eventually, I started relaxing it at home with a chemical straightener meant for black women with Afro hair.  My hair never went straight, but the curls got much looser and I was much happier.  Then, two years or so ago, I had it chemically straightened in a salon for the first time ever.  I was thrilled with the poker straight results and I've had it like that ever since.  Which is great.  Except it burns one heck of a hole in your wallet.

So, recently, noticing that my hair was curling at the roots and in need of a touch-up at the salon, but also noticing my lack of money to pay for a straighten, I ordered the product I used to use all those years ago (like, three, but ssshh, I like to sound dramatic).  Knowing that home-straightening kits can be all kinds of bad news for your hair, I opted to only leave it on for half the recommended processing time.  Thank goodness I did, because just 12 minutes later, when I came to wash the product off, I had no fringe.  It literally snapped off.  GOOD TIMES.  Not only that, but the ends of my hair were brittle and split.  I looked bloody awful.  So awful I could have cried.  And so I totally did.

Now, in case you're wondering why I'm not naming and shaming the product I used, it's because, in its defence, I think I may have used the wrong strength for my hair type.  My hair is very fine and I usually use the children's version, which I never had a single problem with.  This time, I used a super strength adult version, so the blame here is entirely on me, not the product.  And no, I didn't do a strand test, because I am an idiot from the planet NOBRAINS.

That was on Tuesday, so I was hoping my week would pick up.  Wrong.

I went to bed on Thursday night feeling pretty much okay, although a tad confused that I felt so stuffed, considering I hadn't really eaten much more than usual.  I woke up at ten to one in the morning, feeling really uncomfortable.  By ten past two, I was hunched over the toilet, wondering if literally my entire lower intestine was about to launch itself into the bowl.

Again, anyone who knows me in "real life" will tell you that I am majorly phobic about sickness.  If someone is sick around me, I panic and run away.  If I think I am going to be sick, I've been known to literally pace the floor, breathing like I'm in labour, mentally chanting "I CAN DO THIS.  I CAN BEAT THIS.  I WILL NOT BE SICK."  This usually happens moments before I throw my guts up.  It's a rather unfortunate and deeply unsuccessful ritual.

I was awake for the rest of the night, either sitting up in bed, groaning to myself (and mentally planning my funeral, because clearly I was dying) or rushing to the bathroom.  Not my favourite way to spend a night, it has to be said and one I don't fancy repeating any time soon.

I had already come down with this cold prior to the sickness bug, so it was a double whammy of infinite suckiness.  Although, once the sickness had subsided, I was at least able to enjoy the perks of being ill.  Namely, being in my pyjamas ALL THE TIME and lazing around in bed watching awesome DVDs:

"Roads?!  Where we're going, we don't need roads!"

Anyway, now I'm non-sicky, but very much, um, cold-y.  I'm going on holiday to Butlin's tomorrow for the week, so I'm stopping off at the doctors en route to be checked over in case I need steroids for my asthma.  And yes, I promise to try very hard not to breathe on any redcoats.  I don't want to ruin the end of their season, after all...

All that remains to be said is I am very, very sorry for the lack of a Sunday challenge this week, but this week has, in fairness, been pretty craptastic.

BUT...  Butlin's will provide me with two challenges to blog about over the next two Sundays.  I won't spoil the surprise (because I know you're on tenterhooks, right?  RIGHT?!), but I promise the Sunday Challenge will be reinstated next weekend.  

Unless I come down with anything else...  Ebola hasn't hit Cornwall yet, has it?!







Sunday, 19 October 2014

Sunday Challenge - 19th October 2014


Yes, it's that time of week again!  It's time for another "Sunday Challenge."  This is going to catch on, guys, I swear...

After missing a week last week (due to the rare occurrence of having a social life), I started thinking about what this week's challenge could be.  Eventually, it was my dad - a rather good poet (but don't tell him I said that) - who came up with the idea of challenging myself to write a poem in a short space of time.  He said an hour.  I decided that was too easy and gave myself 30 minutes, because clearly, I live life right on the edge.

Naturally, given that I'm a writer of sorts, I figured this challenge would be easy.  So, to make it harder on myself, I asked friends on Twitter and Facebook to come up with subjects for me to create my masterpiece of poetry about.  I had various suggestions, including "bollards."  Frankly, the world is not yet ready for a poem about that.  I settled on a suggestion from my friend Mary: "Dresses."

She suggested it because yesterday I saw this:


...And I basically went into raptures.  I love 50s style fashion and music.  I love dresses.  And I love purple.  This dress was a siren, calling out to me: "BUY ME.  YOU DON'T NEED PETROL, YOUR CAR WILL RUN ON AWESOMENESS IF YOU OWN ME!  LOOK WHAT A BARGAIN I AM!  YOU DON'T JUST WANT ME, EMMA.  YOU NEEEEEEED MEEEEEEE."

I caved.  The dress was ordered and it's currently winging its way to me.  And yes, of course I already own a 50s petticoat to go underneath and make it extra... Um... Swishy.

SO.  I had my subject matter.  I knew what I had to do.  I set the timer...


Aaaaand nothing happened.  I stared at a blank screen for the first few precious minutes of my allotted thirty, wondering whether I had any right to call myself a writer at all, considering I was failing so completely to write anything.  My mind was crowded with ridiculous questions: "What rhyme scheme should I use?"  "Will it matter if it doesn't rhyme at all?"  "Does anything rhyme with petticoat, apart from Alan Dedicoat?!"

In the end, I just started thinking of silly things and how hilarious it is when my love of dresses gets... Well, a trifle obsessive.  And I came up with this bit of ridiculousness, written in under 17 minutes:

A Letter of Love

I knew the day I found you,
That you must be "The One."
There is beauty all around you,
I was utterly undone. 
We two became one and suddenly,
There was even more to love!
I adore you utterly,
You fit me like a glove.
You make me feel so beautiful,
In every single way.
If only it were suitable,
I'd wear you every day...

Like Internet dating, I found you online,
And added you to my cart.
And now you are completely mine,
With a special place in my heart.

Am I crazy?  Maybe.
I guess the answer's "yes."
But I've written this poem to say...
I bloody LOVE my new dress!

It isn't brilliant, but hey,,, I did it in under 30 minutes and I wrote on a subject I allowed someone else to choose, so... It's not that bad!

Here's to next Sunday and another challenge!










Friday, 17 October 2014

Dear returnofkings.com, please shove your misogynistic opinions up your arse.


I had never heard of www.returnofkings.com before this morning.  Frankly, it was a happier, simpler time.  After all, why would I want to have heard of a website that promotes articles with titles such as "Never Fully Give A Woman Your Loyalty" or which features this charming description of the female sex: "the majority of them are leeches, with only a vagina to offer you."  The articles on the website sound as though they were written by bitter, sad guys who've not yet come to terms with the fact that Page 3 models are airbrushed (let alone the fact that a growing number of people are sick of seeing women reduced to a pair of tits in the nation's biggest-selling family newspaper) and who wrote their backwards, misogynistic tirades in between furious masturbation sessions, whilst shrieking: "I AM A MAN!  A MAN!  HEAR ME ROAR, BITCHES!" There's even a caveat on the site that women and homosexuals are "forbidden" from commenting on articles and will be immediately banned.  It's truly sad.  

Sad, but frightening.  Because these are people who almost certainly do hold these vile opinions.  There's nothing on the RoK website that makes me think it's supposed to be satirical.  There's nothing that convinces me that it's just a joke.  Not that that would make it any better.  We already live in a world in which a woman can be raped and all the press are concerned with is whether her rapist will be allowed to play football again.  A world in which a TV presenter can casually state that that rape "didn't cause bodily harm," implying that it was therefore not that bad.  Um, note to Judy Finnegan?  Rape is the non-consensual forcing of a penis (or fingers etc) into a person.  FORCING.  Against their will.  Please do take the time to explain to me how forcing something into a person isn't going to cause them any harm, physically or emotionally, because I'm ever so intrigued.

The "article" that brought this website to my attention this morning was something a friend posted on Facebook: 5 Reasons Why Girls With Piercings And Tattoos Are Broken. My friend has piercings and tattoos.  I have tattoos.  I read this steaming pile of unadulterated bullshit and despite the vast array of woman-hating and ridiculous that pervades the entire site, it was this piece I decided to respond to.  Well, I've spent a good portion of the last few months plotting a cover-up tattoo, so it seemed appropriate.  Now, before I go any further, I realise that I'm bringing attention to this sad excuse for a human and that's what he, like all pathetic bullies, wants.  But I'm not a subscriber to the "don't feed the trolls" school of thinking.  I'm a subscriber to the "let's shine a light on these idiots and explain why what they're saying is wrong and not in the least bit funny."  It's a less catchy name, granted...

So... Let's go through the original blog bit by bit, shall we?  Buckle in and steady yourself; this isn't going to be pleasant...


So, girls with tattoos and piercings (besides having their ears pierced, because ooh, that's allowed) are "slags who fall in and out of guys' beds at a moment's notice."  Apparently women with tattoos will definitely cheat on you, too.

Okay, let's get personal, shall we?  I have four tattoos.  I've also never cheated on anyone in my life (and abhor cheating full stop) and I can count the number of sexual partners I've had on one hand.  Not that that even matters.  Are we really so utterly backwards as a society that we think it's okay to judge people on their physical appearance in this manner?  Is "she has tattoos, therefore she's a whore" an acceptable thing to write, even if it was in a satirical manner?  My mum had a tattoo done on her 60th birthday.  She's been faithfully married to my dad for over thirty years.  Is she a whore?  Of course she isn't.  Judging someone's sexual morals on appearance alone is a fairly pathetic thing to be doing and it's an utterly hypocritical thing to be writing about on a site that actively encourages men to shag around.  Because you know, men are allowed.  But we women have to shut up and do as we're told, because reasons.

Also, women are sluts because we're willing to be tattooed on our naked skin?  Has the ape that wrote this not heard of men having tattoos done by female artists?  Because... That's a thing that some guys who aren't misogynistic bastards actually do.  Those slags.



Oh noes!  We have no foresight!  We haven't ever given a moment's consideration as to what our tattoos might look like in twenty or thirty years time!  Of course we haven't; we were probably too busy shagging guys in alleyways, whilst planning to marry someone rich and obliterate his bank account, like the worthless, manipulative little sluts that we are...

Except... Why is this only applicable to women?  I mean, the obvious answer is that this site is run by and written for by men who view women as nothing but vessels for their tiny penises and it's obviously abhorrent to them to consider that men and women might make similar choices and go through similar thought-processes.  I can tell you that I've considered how my tattoos will age and I've taken care of them in the correct manner to ensure I limit any damage to them over time.  Shocking, I know, but I managed to take time out from shoe-shopping with daddy's credit card to do such a thing as look after my own body art.  Try to pick your jaws up from the floor, RoK.

Oh and the end of that particular argument is that women who have tattoos are too dumb to be the mother of your children.  I WEEP for the sexist father my future babies will never have.  I mean really, this might mean I have to breed with someone who respects people of my gender.  HEAVEN FORBID!


Soooo...  We're now into total and utter lunacy.  This is no longer an article written by anyone who can call themselves a writer, but an impotent wail against cognitive reasoning.  If a girl has tattoos, she's inherently selfish and won't look after you when you're ill and will deny you sex for no reason.  That's like shrieking: "Oh my GOD, that man is wearing a hat!  I BET HE ALSO DROWNS KITTENS, THE SELFISH BASTARD!"  There's literally no link whatsoever.  The argument is meant to be that a woman choosing to have a tattoo is a selfish act, because she's only thinking of herself, which is just ludicrous in the extreme.  I never went into a tattoo parlour, crying: "HAHAHAHAAAA, INK ME SO THAT I MAY IGNORE THE SUFFERING OF THOSE I LOVE FOREVER!"

And is the author of this piece actually suggesting that women shouldn't be able to make the decision to have a tattoo, because it's selfish to do so?  That's the impression I got and frankly, if a man ever told me that I was undateable because I have a few (small, tasteful) tattoos and that I was selfish to have them, I'd waste no time in closing the door on his sorry backside.  I've been in an abusive relationship, thanks.  I'm controlled by nobody these days.  It's my body, not yours.  And if you're reading this as a man who genuinely believes that if I have a tattoo, I will no longer conform to your standard of beauty and I am therefore a selfish, "moody, unlikeable c*nt," then I wish you lots of future happiness with the sweaty sock you'll be wanking into for the rest of your life.  


Okay, time for a trigger warning with regards to rape/sexual assault...

...So, women with tattoos are boring.  Again, there is nothing like generalising an entire community of people, is there?  Why is it okay to do that with tattooed women?  We shouldn't accept an entire race being generalised against, so why an entire gender?  I don't believe that my tattoos make me any more interesting than I was before I had them.  My tattoos are representative of times in my life or things I'm passionate about.  If they become a talking point, great, because I have had some very interesting conversations, for example with Manics fans who've recognised the lyrics in the tattoo I have on my back.  But that's not why I had them done.  And they aren't what makes me an interesting person.  What makes me interesting is that I have passions beyond dissing an entire sex online (because I know that for all the half-brained dimwits reading RoK and grunting in agreement, there are a hundred decent guys, wondering why such loudmouthed losers are letting the side down).  Sure, there'll be people I meet in life who think I'm boring, but it has bugger all to do with my tattoos and probably much more to do with a personality clash.  Because whilst I disagree with people who think I'm dull, I usually don't actually think much of them, either.  And that normally comes from having not made a snap judgement based on whether or not they have body art.

Before we move on to the final part of the RoK blog and therefore the final part of mine, does anyone else think the last line captured in the above image sounds like sexual assault?  "I derived incredible pleasure from shoving my cock in her mouth to shut her up."  

"Shoving."  That sounds consensual, right?!  Except... No, not really.  And I'll be brutally honest here and reference my own experience of an abusive relationship - I know firsthand about being "shut up" that way.  My ex wasn't usually rough about it, but he was misgynistic enough to tell me I needed something in my mouth to stop me talking.  This was the line that made me determined to write something about this despicable article and the vile site it came from.  If that's meant to be a joke, it's not funny.  If it's serious...  I am so glad for the writer's ex that she is no longer with this disgusting excuse for a human.  I hope she got the same level of support that I did.


Yeah, so...  Ablism is a great thing to end on, right?  As it happens, I've suffered depression.  I'm not "mental" though and I've never "cut (anyone) with a knife."  I sincerely doubt there are more tattooed people with mental illnesses than there are non-tattooed people.  

The blog ends with suggesting that if a man is looking for a girl to "wife-up" (lucky us!), he should choose someone who hasn't "mangled their body beyond repair."

Well, to that, I say: "THANK GOD."  I have literally no desire to be desirable to the likes of this man.  Although to call him that is an insult to every decent man I've ever known.  If this is parody, it isn't funny.  If this is serious...  We have a bigger problem in society than I thought.





Friday, 10 October 2014

Air Guitar

Seemed appropriate...

There are very few bands I love enough to stay up until midnight to pre-order their new single, despite having to get up at stupid o'clock in the morning for work the next day, but I discovered recently that McBusted are one of them.

Ever since Lydia and I went to see them in Weston-Super-Mare, we've been desperately hoping that they'd release a single - and better still, an album - together.  A couple of nights ago, we got our wish when the first ever McBusted single - Air Guitar - was premiered via a lyric video on YouTube.  

You know that feeling you get when a band you absolutely adore release something new?  That bizarre combination of nerves and excitement ("Please be good, please be good, please be good...")?  Well, I had that in spades, although the "nervous" bit was never all that strong - this is a band made up of bloody brilliant songwriters after all.  It was bound to be great, wasn't it?

Well, of course it was.  And is.

The first few seconds remind me of playing classic arcade computer games (which made the Guitar Hero-esque lyric video all the more impressive) and the first lines "I never was a cool kid and no one ever gave a damn about what I did, I liked to party but I never got invited..." were like a siren call to my nerdy little soul.  I was that kid, in my early teens, singing in my room, writing bad poetry and playing air guitar to songs on the radio.  So immediately, this song felt like my anthem.

It builds and builds until the massive chorus comes as an explosion of guitars and voices that just makes you want to punch the air and jump up and down.  Add a twiddly bit of guitar that's made for playing air guitar to and you've got a smash.

The best bit is that this sounds like a fully-fledged band.  Not McFly with two guys added on.  Not Busted with McFly joining in.  It's a combination of what made both of those bands great and put together, it's ridiculously good.  The way the vocals switch from Matt, to Tom, to James, to Danny just works.  It doesn't feel in the slightest bit forced.  It's as though the most natural and obvious thing in the world is for these six people to be in a band, making music together.  Because when they do, the results are fantastic.

If I had to sum up the song in one word, I'd use "jubilant."  Because that's what it feels, to me.  Utterly joyous - the sound of six mates going: "can you believe we do this for a living?!"  The essence of fun and excitement that made their tour such an incredible success is somehow woven musically into every second of Air Guitar, making it a song that simply couldn't have been written by anyone else.  And it's joyous not only because it's the sound of a band genuinely loving what they're doing, but because the subtext of the song screams "SOD what anyone else thinks."  So you're maybe a bit of a geeky kid, not part of the cool elite at school?  Who cares - just keep doing your thing.  

And as long as these six guys keep doing their thing, they're making this nerdy girl very happy indeed.









Sunday, 5 October 2014

The Sunday Challenge!

Not THAT kind of sundae.

Today is Sunday.  And Sundays can be a bit...  Well, they're great days for sleeping in late, lazing about and pottering around the house.  But if you don't have plans and that's all you're getting up to, Sundays can get a bit same-y.  With that in mind, I decided to spice up my Sunday by issuing myself a challenge.  I was going to have a go at something I had either never done, or something I hadn't done in years.

Now, me being slightly ridiculous, I had many ideas, from carpentry (I don't even know where that came from!) to geocaching, before I decided that, seeing as I'm not feeling too great today (I've had sinusitis for over three months now - I'm wondering if I'm in line to set some kind of record), I'd pick something sedate.  I settled on painting.

I don't even remember the last time I actually attempted to paint a proper picture.  And by "proper," I mean something a little more impressive than the artwork I sometimes create at work with the kids at nursery, masterpieces though they are.

I dug out some old watercolours and found an A3 sketch pad I bought years ago for some reason or other and I set about trying to decide what I was going to paint.  Several ideas went through my head, including James Bourne's lovely face, although to be fair, his lovely face is in my head most of the time anyway...

In the end, I decided to try something that I love in a very different way; cherry blossom.  Yes, I would paint a cherry blossom tree.  Or at least a few branches (this was my first go, so I figured a whole tree might be pushing my artistic skills a little too far).

I won't lie to you.  It didn't turn out brilliantly.  I had hoped that I would discover a hidden talent for painting, but... Well, that didn't happen.

What did happen, however, is that I had something to focus my attention on for several hours and I was testing myself by trying something I had never really done much of before.  And even though the end result won't be gracing the walls of any major art galleries, I was actually quite proud of it.

And so I've decided to try to come up with a weekly Sunday Challenge for myself.  Obviously some Sundays I'll be busy and I'll have to skip a week, but my goal is to make this a regular thing.  So ideas for Sunday Challenges will be very welcome!  And if anyone else fancies getting involved - please do!

Oh and because it would be a bit silly to end this blog without evidence of the challenge I set myself this week...

Ta-daaaa!

Here's to the next Sunday Challenge!  Bring it on...


Saturday, 4 October 2014

TMI - Fifty Random Questions

Why this picture?  Because life is a rollercoaster.  Or something.

I'll level with you, guys.  I need to blog today, but I can't blog about the thing I want to blog about.  Yeah, I know, cagey and mysterious isn't usually my "thing," but to summarise, I'm a little low today.  And yes, I'm only five feet tall, so I'm always a little low...

I sat and had a ponder and in between my more weird thinkings (that Matt Smith would not suit a goatee and that they should make Babybels using a variety of different cheeses), I decided that, since I have an urge to blog and don't want to write some long "woe is me" rant, I'd do one of those "twenty random questions" blogs instead.  Easy, I thought.  So I googled "twenty random questions."  I expected a convenient link to twenty random questions and there wasn't one, which left me in a pickle.  

And that was the moment that my beloved McBusted came to my aid.  Somewhere in the back of mind, amongst the entire script of Sister Act and the ability to sing How Much Is That Doggy In The Window backwards, I remembered watching a video on YouTube, in which Tom Fletcher took all of his clothes off.  And whilst removing those clothes, he answers random questions.  Fifty of them.  So, seeing as Google let me down and twenty questions probably doesn't give me enough time to bore you senseless with my answers (hey, you at the back, stop snoring!), this is me, shamelessly stealing Tom's questions to answer here for your tedium delight!  And yes, it's better as a vlog.  But I've broken my camera and I can't work my camcorder properly.  Oh and I'm already on my blog, so let's just do this, shall we?!

You'll be pleased to know, I'll be keeping all my clothes on.  

Oh and before I start, should you wish to see Tom with too many clothes on (and then none at all),you can watch his YouTube video here.  Right then, here I go:

1. What are you wearing?

Well, my sweetie, I'm wearing a rubber catsuit and a gimp mask.

Oh, no... Hang on... No, I'm wearing this.

My catsuit is in the wash.

2. Ever been in love?

Yes.  I probably fall in love too easily, to be honest, but I'm a soppy old romantic.

3. Ever had a terrible break-up?

Well, this is awkward...  The short answer is yes.  The long answer is DEAR GOD, YES.  Let's not sully this light-hearted quiz with a long answer about what it's like trying to find the strength to walk away from an abusive relationship.  Needless to say, "terrible" is a bit of an understatement.  Although I ought to counter that by saying: once you're out of the situation and you've gotten some help, the freedom you feel is actually one of the most wonderful sensations you can possibly have.  So my "terrible" break up led to me being pretty damn ecstatic.  It just took a while to get there.

4. How tall are you?

Five feet.  And if you want me to be a pedant, half an inch.  Yes, I'm practically a hobbit.

5. How much do you weigh?

About 5lbs more than I'd like to.  I think I'm roughly 8st7lbs.  And also: BIT PERSONAL, WHOEVER INVENTED THIS QUIZ...

6. Any tattoos?

A Doctor Who quote and a shooting star on my foot (because I am a NERD).  A Manics lyric and some cherry blossom on my left shoulder blade.  A paw print on my right shoulder blade (in honour of my late cocker spaniel, Cal) and "friend" in Japanese on my right ankle, which I hope one day to have changed into a blue bow to go with my Doctor Who quote (TARDIS blue and a bow like a bow-tie).

Pictured: My foot.  Looks less stumpy in real life.

7. Any piercings?

Just my ears. And just the once.  I like wearing earrings, but I've never fancied any other piercings.

8. OTP

Not gonna lie, I had to google what the HELL "OTP" means.  Apparently it stands for "One True Pairing" and refers to the perfect combination of two characters within a fandom.  I'm going to resist the urge to say Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones (sorry, Lydia) and go with The Doctor and River Song.  Hello, Sweetie.

9.  What's your favourite show?

I'm guessing this means show as in TV show?  And blatantly that's Doctor Who.  If it refers to theatre shows, then...  I love too many to pick one.  Maybe Les Mis or West Side Story.  Ooh, or Rent.  Or for something a little more lighthearted, either Sister Act or Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat.  I've got a soft spot for Oliver! as well.  Argh, too many to pick from!

10. Who are your favourite bands?

The Manic Street Preachers, Blur, The Beatles, The Kaiser Chiefs, Abba, Take That, Green Day, Backstreet Boys, The Clash, Muse and of course McBusted.  In fact, McBusted come before most of those others except the Manics.  I just bloody love McBusted, okay?!

11. Name something you miss?

I want to get all deep and meaningful and say "the freedom and security of childhood," but instead I'm going to say...  I miss my bestie Lydia, because I've not seen her in a while.  

12. Favourite song?

I literally don't have just one favourite song.  If you put a gun to my head, I'd say Design For Life by the Manics, but currently, the song I sing most often is probably Nerdy by Busted.  Ooh, or Britney.

13. How old are you?

I'm 32.  I don't look a day over 29?!  How kind of you to say...

14. What's your Zodiac sign?

Virgo.  And I used to believe in all that nonsense, until I sat down and thought about just how many millions and millions of Virgos there must be on the planet.  The daily horoscope can't be right for all of us.  That said, I suppose I exhibit some "classic Virgo" traits.  But that is probably through utter coincidence.

15. What qualities do you look for in a partner?

Creativity, sensitivity, loyalty and intelligence.  And geekery.  

16. Do you have a favourite quote?

I have several, but I suppose two of my favourites are the ones I have inked on me forever.  "This world will not impose its will, I will not give up and I will not give in" is a line that has gotten me through some tough times.  And the full version of my Doctor Who quote tattoo is pretty lovely: "I am and always will be the optimist; the hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams."  There's also an Audrey Hepburn quote I really love, which says simply: "The best thing to hold onto in life is each other."


17. Favourite actor?

Robin Williams.  He was the most important actor in the world to me, growing up.  He was Peter Pan, he was Mrs Doubtfire, he was the Genie from Aladdin.  I still can't believe he's gone.

18. Favourite colour?

I'm writing in it.

19. Loud music or soft?

Surely depends on the situation?!  But if I have to choose... It's gotta be loud, right?!

20. Where do you go when you're sad?

Depends on how sad I am and why I'm sad, really.  Sometimes for a walk with the dog.  Sometimes to the beach.  Sometimes to my bed, where I hide under the covers and dream up a different life for myself until I miss the one I actually have (or until I have no choice but to live my real one...).

21. How long does it take you to shower?

Well, I currently live in a house that has a water metre and which is owned by my dad who pays the water bills, so I have little choice but to be no more than 5 minutes, really.  Given the choice, I'd take a bit longer (and sometimes do).  I'm always clean, that's all that matters.

22. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Ugh, I'm such a typical girl.  Probably an hour, maybe a little more if I need to shave my legs.  But let me defend myself:  That hour involves:  A shower, a 12 minute daily exercise plan I invented months ago in a bid to lose my belly, getting dressed, blow-drying my hair, taking my asthma medication (lungs that don't work properly are sexy, right?), doing my make up and having a quick breakfast.  So... That's not so bad, right?!  Hmm.

23. Ever been in a physical fight?

Play-fighting, yes.  Real fighting?  Nooooo.  Did I mention that I'm only five feet tall and have asthma?! If a fight broke out, I'd probably hide.  

24. What's your turn on?

A guy who can make me laugh.  Or play the guitar.  OR BOTH.  

25. What turns you off?

Arrogance.  If a guy fancies himself more than I do, what's the point?!

26. What's the reason you joined YouTube?

This is where you can tell this should be a vlog, haha!  Um... I have a YouTube account mainly because someday my friend Lizzie and I are just going to make a whole spoof Doctor Who series, involving Stephen Mulhern.  But I currently use YouTube mostly for watching music videos and suchlike.


Oh and I think I uploaded this, even though the quality is awful.  Sometimes I watch other fans' videos from this gig, because I loved it THAT much.

video

27. What are your fears?

DYING ALONE.  Aherm, sorry, don't know what happened there...  Spiders and wasps.  Oh and also having my blood taken.  Bit of a weird one, that; I don't mind needles, but I hate the thought of having my blood removed from me and sucked into a tube.  Even though I know it's generally done with good, medical reason, I hate it.  Freaks me right out.

28. Last thing that made you cry?

I guess without going into detail... It was a feeling of never being good enough in someone else's eyes.  Wears you down after a while.

29. Last time you said "I love you?"

I said it to my mum yesterday.  We tell each other that pretty regularly.  I've never shied away from saying "I love you" to the people who mean the most to me.

30. What is the meaning behind your YouTube name?

I think my YouTube name is MrsManics, which is just the name I used to use on Manics forums etc years ago.  My blog name, The Rambling Curl, comes from my propensity to ramble on about certain subjects and the fact that I had very, very curly hair when I set this blog up.  I have it straightened nowadays, but The Rambling Straight sounds weird.

31. Last book you read?

McFly - Unsaid Things... Our Story.  And very interesting it was, too.

32. What book are you currently reading?

My mum accidentally bought me the book of the movie Dead Poets Society instead of the DVD for my birthday, so I'm reading that!

33. What was the last show you watched?

TV Show?  Never Mind The Buzzcocks.  Theatre show?  West Side Story.

34. Who was the last person you talked to?

Technically, my lovely friend Kirstie, via text message.  The last person I actually spoke to was my mum.

I talk to her all the time because we live together.  And because she's AWESOME.

35. What's the relationship between you and the last person you texted?

She's one of my closest friends and she's also my Manics gig buddy.  And she just had a haircut (she texted me a photo) that makes her look so beautiful, she just became my "hair idol."

36. Favourite food?

I eat most things; I'm quite greedy.  It's really hard to pick one thing... I guess I'm a sucker for a pizza.  With a stuffed crust.  Mmmm.

37. Name a place you'd like to visit?

I'd like to go to Australia.  But I'd also love to go back to New York City.

38. Where was the last place you were?

Eh?!  I suppose that would be the kitchen.  Told you I was greedy...

39. Do you have a crush?

Yes.  Yes I do.  

40. When did you last kiss someone?

Kissing my laptop screen after posting that picture totally counts, right?!  Um...  Does this mean as in a full-on kiss with someone, or just your general friendly/family kiss?  Because I kissed my mum goodnight a couple of nights ago.  Proper romantic kissing?  Yeeeaaaah, that's been a while.  It was probably James.  Sadly not the one pictured, but the abusive shit for brains I mentioned earlier.  Wow.  That's sad on many, many levels.  I'll do question 41 when I've finished weeping.

41. When was the last time you were insulted?

Last night, when someone called me selfish.  Which I'm not.

42. What's your favourite flavour sweet?

Strawberry.  If I buy a bag of Haribo, it's the strawberry flavoured sweets I rush to cram into my greedy gob!

43. What instruments can you play?

I can play a little bit of piano.  I tried learning the guitar, but I got to grips with maybe two or three chords and then realised I was rubbish.  My poor sister, who is great at the guitar, just gave me a face like: "Give up, Em."  So I did.  I wish I could play guitar, though.  

I can sing, which is kind of like playing an instrument of sorts, right?!

44. What's your favourite piece of jewellery?


Mum bought me this ring for my 15th birthday.  It was my first really "grown up" piece of jewellery, besides earrings and I only ever take it off if there's a danger I'll lose it or it'll get filthy.

45. What was the last sport you played?

I kicked a football around with a couple of the kids I work with a few days ago.  Prior to that, I'm not sure... Probably bowling with Lizzie at Butlin's.  I now have a mental image of me literally throwing Lizzie down a bowling lane to see how many pins she'd knock over.  Sorry, Lizzie.

46. What was the last song you sang?

I couldn't get Star Girl by McFly out of my head yesterday, so I sang that on and off whilst I was editing my book.  Last night I watched Never Mind The Buzzcocks and ended up singing loads of the songs used in the "next lines" round!

47. What's your favourite chat up line?

I don't really have one.  I prefer my hugely successful method of glancing shyly at someone and not being able to actually go over and talk to them...  I once introduced myself to someone I'd spoken to online and really fancied with the words "this is me in real life!"  THAT is how good I am at chatting people up (did work, though).  But yeah... Chat up lines aren't my strong point, which is probably why I've been single so long!  Can I just borrow Joey's "How YOU doin'" line from Friends and say THAT is my favourite chat up line?!

48. Have you ever used your favourite chat up line?

How YOU doin'?  There.  Just did.

49. When did you last hang out with someone?

My closest friends and I live an hour/hour and a half away from one another, so we don't hang out as often as we'd like.  But a fortnight ago, Lizzie and I hung out on the beach at Polzeath and then went for lunch at a cafe overlooking the sea.  That was nice.

50. Who should answer these questions next?

Anyone who has a vlog or blog!  I'd like to see answers from Kirstie, Lizzie and Lydia, but I don't think they blog OR vlog.  Rachel has a blog, so SHE can definitely do this!!

So that's my TMI 50 Questions done.  And thankfully, I'm wearing more than Tom was when he finished his...  Until next time, guys - byeeee!