Dear Arrogant People...

Ah, confidence.  It's something some people have in bucket loads, whilst other poor souls don't seem to have any at all.  Confidence can be a great thing.  It can inspire you to take on new challenges, push yourself to the limits and step right out of your comfort zone.  Confidence can be enviable.  It can be sexy.  But there's a line that some people cross and when they do, that confidence stops being sexy in the slightest.  In fact, it turns into something downright ugly: arrogance.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with thinking you're good at something.  There's a whole steaming pile of things wrong with thinking you're better than everyone else and should be worshipped as some kind of hero.  Thinking you're above people, thinking you're too good to have to bother with basic decency and manners, or that everyone should fall over themselves to do your bidding... That doesn't make you a hero.  That, my friends, makes you an arsehole.

Arrogance is irritating.  It's probably my number one turn-off in a prospective partner and it's something guaranteed to make me balk at the idea of having to spend any length of time with a person.  But above all, arrogance is stupid.  It's utterly, ridiculously stupid.  And because I'm someone with half an hour to spare, I'm going to explain why.

Look at yourself in the mirror.  The image you see reflected back might be gorgeous.  You might think you're the sexiest creature ever to walk the Earth.  But you are a human.  And humans, ladies and gentlemen, are massively flawed and often incredibly dumb.

Oh, sure, we've sent rockets to the moon, we've created amazing methods of travel and we've developed cures for diseases that would otherwise kill us.  But make no mistake about it, none of us is perfect.

Take me, for example.  I have an uncanny ability to trip over thin air.  I talk to inanimate objects.  The other day, I made myself a cup of tea and then tried to put the kettle in the fridge, instead of the milk.  I really don't have any grand ideas of perfection, because... Well, duh.

The idea of being so cocky that you think you're constantly right, constantly gorgeous and constantly better than anyone else is bloody hysterical.  Rest assured, if you're arrogant, I am laughing at you.  I will forever be laughing at you.  Because you are being unintentionally hilarious.

You are no better than anyone else.  You bleed the same colour as the rest of us.  You will suffer the same human foibles that we all do.  

You'll feel a compulsion to touch something with a "warning: HOT" sticker on it.  You know, just to be sure (see also: "WET PAINT" signs).

Every now and then, you'll pull a door that has "PUSH" written on the handle.  Then, you'll have to decide whether to try to brush the incident off, or whether you'll do the elaborate "haha, look at me, silly thing" routine, as though you did it on purpose because you are intentionally funny..

Once in a while, despite being a fully functioning human, you'll accidentally bite the insides of your own mouth.  Or, during a meal, you'll inadvertently attempt to chew your own tongue.

You will, at some point, find it almost impossible to open a bin bag and will find yourself wrestling with a seemingly sealed shut rectangle of plastic.  You will almost certainly swear at it, as though that will help in the situation.

You will (at least, if you're British), have someone walk into you accidentally and you will feel compelled to apologise to them for your very presence.

You will eventually find yourself having a conversation with someone who says something you don't quite catch.  And, after asking them to repeat it and still not hearing them properly, you will eventually have to hope that smiling and nodding is the appropriate response (whilst harbouring fear that you've just grinned and said "ah, great" to the news that said person's cat has just died).

At some point in your life, you may do a fart that might not be just a fart.

You will lose your keys/glasses/phone, even if only momentarily.  And you will panic.

There will come a day when you will totally lose your cool around someone you really, really like.

Somehow, despite the seemingly impossible nature of the act, you will eventually fall upstairs.

YOU ARE JUST A HUMAN.  AND WE ARE ALL FLAWED.

So, yeah.  I hate arrogance.  I hate, loathe and despise it.  But most of all, I find it hilariously stupid.  

And now, hopefully, so do you.

Here Comes The Sun...

Photo not taken this weekend, but you get the gist...

Something happened this weekend.  A big, yellow ball appeared in the sky.  A big, yellow ball that hasn't made many appearances, recently.  We've had wind, rain, frost, even snow, but actual sunshine that you can feel on your skin?  That seems to have been in hiding for the last few months.

But this weekend, out it came and with it came the definitive proof that this is Britain.  Everyone suddenly decided en masse to hit the beach, or the park.  Barbecues were brought out of hibernation and I spent a good while stuffing all my jumpers into a drawer, not to be seen again until at least September.  Because if there's one thing we know here, it's that the sun is not guaranteed ("ne'er cast a clout till May is out" and all that...), so when it comes out, we've got to make the most of it!

And make the most of it, I did.  Mum and I took our dog, Rusty, to a local park and let him run free, chasing balls and sniffing the bums of any other hound lucky (or unlucky...) enough to cross his path.  And sniffing the bums of their owners, just for good measure...

I went for walks without a coat on (I KNOW) and felt that lovely warm sensation on the back of my neck as I strolled by the river, watching the sunlight dapple the gentle tide.

Today at work, I willingly spent almost an hour outdoors, defying my hay fever with the kind of foolhardy resilience I usually reserve for when I'm in the front row at a concert and I really need a wee, but don't want to lose my place...

Seriously, once I'm on that barrier, I'm going NOWHERE.

It's a bit of a corny old cliche, but there really is something lovely about the sun coming out after a long bout of cold, grey, rainy weather.  You can't help but look around and notice that the world has taken on a new hue.  It's almost like seeing colours for the first time - the sky looks bluer, the grass is greener and everything has a beautiful, golden sheen.  

Things look brighter in a literal and metaphorical sense, once the sun comes out.  Somehow, the Winter blues start to lift from our shoulders and we fill our heads with thoughts of paddling in the sea, picnics in the park and long, light Summer evenings that seem full of possibility...

...That is, until we start thinking about hay fever, wasp bites, sunburn, headaches and, in my case, making that hugely important decision between having to shave my legs every day, or simply hoping nobody notices the prickly in-between days (hey, being single does have a perk!).  Like I said, we're British; we can only handle so much optimism.

But seriously, once the sun is in the sky again after a long, damp and chilly Winter, you just can't help but feel better for it.  That sensation of warmth on your skin - of shrugging off your jacket after months of wrapping yourself up in layer after layer and still being too cold - is a genuinely lovely feeling.

So, I may be getting in on this act a bit early, because of course we'll have chilly, rainy days before the Summer really gets started, but here's to the sunshine.  I've missed you.  Please stick around for a while?!

Why is Ageism the "Acceptable" Form of Discrimination?!

Photo via CNN.

On Wednesday night, London played host to the annual BRIT Awards.  Unless you've been living in a cave since then, you're probably aware that during the proceedings, Madonna took a bit of a tumble.  Actually, that's something of an understatement; as you can see above, she pretty much flew backwards down a small flight of stairs.  It was impossible to watch it and not flinch, because that has got to hurt...

Now, I'm holding my hands up right now:  I find falling down kind of hilarious, providing nobody is seriously hurt.  If someone's genuinely hurt in some way, laughing is... Well, pretty horrible.  But a tumble in which the only injury is a bruised ego appeals to my slapstick sense of humour.  So at first, given that Madonna herself was quick to announce that she was fine, I allowed myself a chuckle, whilst also thinking what a pro she was for getting back up so quickly and carrying on.  And then the jokes got a bit same-y and I zoned out and moved on.  That is, until yesterday, when, during a lunch with friends, the conversation turned to Madonna's fall and my best friend made a comment that stayed with me:

"Why were there so many jokes about Madonna's age?  Why is ageism acceptable, when we rightly condemn discrimination of a person based on their gender or race etc?"

And she's right.  Why is it acceptable to make ageist remarks?  Madonna herself has compared ageism to racism or homophobia, rightly stating that most of us wouldn't dream of slighting a person because of their skin colour or sexual orientation, yet we feel quite comfortable making slights against a person because of their age.

A huge number of the jokes made at Madonna's expense after her fall at the BRITS referenced her being older than some of the other stars at the event.  There were pictures in which Madonna's face was Photoshopped onto a stairlift advert, suggesting that her age (she's 56 - I know, what a dinosaur! *disengages sarcasm mode*) was responsible for her fall, or even that her age should be the reason people sympathise with her.  Because clearly, young people don't fall down, right?!

Except... After one too many cherry Lambrinis last weekend, one of my high-heels made contact with a particularly well-polished area of flooring and I almost shot across the ground in a most un-glamorous (but bloody hilarious) manner.  Even better, I grabbed onto my younger friend for support and almost brought her down as well.  If someone had been filming us, I reckon they could easily be £250 richer...

But I digress.  The fact is that people on social media were quick to play the "it's funny, because she's so old" card, following Madonna's fall.  And very few people seemed to have a problem with that.  So, why?

Women over 50 must instantly break out the twin set and pearls, apparently.

It's fair to admit that younger members of society tend to view people perhaps just ten years their senior as ancient.  Recently, on a night out, a guy in his early twenties referred to a person of 32 as being "seriously old."  I'm 32, sweetie.  I'm still much too keen on rollercoasters, I still drunkenly attempt twerking and I'm not quite at the stage where I take my teeth out to go to bed, thank you very much.  The irony is that whilst that young man sees me as old, I don't see myself that way in the slightest.  I guess I'm at a point where I am aware of ageing, but I view "old" as being 70+, these days.  Perhaps it's only when we look in the mirror and see changes to our youthful faces and bodies, that we start to see the foolishness of using the word "old" to squeeze people into a box in which they simply aren't yet ready to fit.

That said, I probably did it myself, once upon a time, although I don't remember it (perhaps because I'm so old now that my memory is failing...).  I probably sat in a club, aged 19 or 20, thinking about how horrific it would be when I was old.  And by old, to my shame, I probably meant 30+.  Perhaps it's because of social convention - there's still a widely held belief that by the time you hit your thirties, you should be settled down, married with kids and in a stable job (especially if you're female).  There's still something of a side-eye given to women in their 40s and over, who make an effort with their hair and make up and go out wearing a figure-flaunting dress.  

Perhaps it's fear.  None of us want to think about getting older, after all.  Why else would anti-wrinkle cream and hair dye sell so well, other than because we want to push back the inevitable?!  We hear such horror stories about getting old, too.  Elderly people being mistreated in care homes and hospitals.  Loneliness being a huge problem for the over 60s.  And of course, the fear of death comes into play as well.  Better to poke fun and ignore the idea that that will ever happen to us!

But does fear make it okay to discriminate or make jokes about a person because they're older than we are?  Of course not.  The fact is that we will, if we are lucky, grow old.  And whilst that might be a difficult thing to contemplate when we're in the glow of youth, it's something we have to accept and deal with in our own way.  Whilst I'm a big lover of dark humour, I don't exactly like it when it's at someone else's expense.

After her fall at the BRITS, Madonna got straight back up and carried on singing and dancing.  There are people thirty years younger than she is who would have struggled to do that.  If age gives us one incredibly positive thing, it's maturity.  And whatever you want to say against her, Madonna certainly showed maturity in the way she laughed off the incident (publicly at least) and carried on with the show.

For what it's worth, I'm much happier and more self-aware/self-confident in my thirties than I ever was in my twenties.  Age doesn't have to be something we fear.  And in my view, ageism shouldn't be an "acceptable" form of discrimination.  Just as we should never, ever discriminate against a person because of their race, gender or sexual orientation, we shouldn't be casually disregarding a person because of their age, either.

We're all getting older and it's fine to laugh at that.  But it's not fine when we start making older people the butt of all of our jokes.  After all, a joke is only really funny when everyone is laughing.