Life Serial

As I'm currently in a chocolate-fuelled Easter funk, I decided it would be a good time to vent a little about some things that annoy me. What else is a blog for, right?

Firstly, and most recent in my mind because I've just come back from cat-sitting:

Guest Pillows

There is no excuse for giving your guests the crappy way too high, firm pillows. Nobody can sleep on those! Sure, they look oh so plump and nice on the decorative bedspread but the actual sleeping practically of them is close to zero. People seem to forget how awful it is to have way too puffy pillows as soon as they own a house big enough to have a guest bedroom. Everybody who has ever stayed overnight somewhere other than their own home will understand this, so why do so many people fail to remember this in their own house?

And of course, when your host says "Oh good morning, did you sleep ok?", you can't very well say "No, I actually would have been better sleeping in the laundry with the cats and now I feel like shit because I either had to sleep on a pillow intent on breaking my neck, or with no pillow at all so my ear went numb being sqashed onto the hard mattress".

It would be rude.

So you instead say "Hi, good morning. Yeah, I slept well, thank you."

It's lies, all lies, but at least you're more polite than your rude hosts who don't take two seconds to realise that live human beings have to sleep on their pillows of hell.

Australian Avocados

The last one I bought was so hard and unripe I swear the greenish colour was painted on. They had no riper ones. Even outrageously expensive ripe ones would have been fine. So, you pay $3.50 for a single avocado? At least you can enjoy your tacos or have your nice salad with a generous helping of avocado cubes.

Perhaps it was because of Easter weekend, and all of the good ones had been bought. Regardless, I feel like the avocado industry is lacking Down Under.

Women's Feet When They Walk Down The Stairs During The Night In Movies

This whinge is a bit less tangible than unripe produce. It struck me when I was watching some crappy Tim Allen daytime movie today, and this woman gets up in the middle of the night to investigate something downstairs, I forget what. She pulls on her compulsory silk robe, and as she decends down the stairs, I feel like I've leant on the remote and accidentally switched to a ballet channel. There was a close up of her feet, perfectly manacured toenails, being pointed daintily as she sashayed down the stairs.

What annoyed me most was that it didn't seem unfamiliar in a movie setting. Why do women in movies always have to glide down their polished wooden stairs in the middle of the night with their gorgeous French Tip toenails, like they are auditioning for a part in Swan Lake?

If I get woken unexpectedly in the night, I have enough trouble walking flat footed on a level carpeted surface. Often, even that is hard. I know what it's like to navigate down perilously steep staircases when you're not properly awake, and I still have the cracked ankle bones to prove it.


So, those are my Easter annoyances. There's probably loads more, but I have a sugar headache and can't be bothered thinking of more. In better news, my Tuesdays have now become the Best TV Day Ever. A new season of NCIS starts at 8:30pm, and then Women's Murder Club straight after. It'll be the most glorious two hours of television I could imagine, and nothing less than a date with a very very attractive charming woman could get me to leave my apartment on a Tuesday evening for the foreseeable future.

Of course, all of this glorious crime and forensicy action will get me back into my phase of thinking I could join the police force and meet Angie Harmon, who would interrogate me in one of those interview rooms where you can't be sure who's looking through the mirror-glass. It doesn't make much sense that she'd be interrogating me if I too was working for the police, but how else is she going to get all mad and use her authority to throw me onto the table when I'm not cooperating, whilst at the same time, getting to work together day in and day out so that we start forming a subtle yet undeniable bond of attraction attained only through shared experiences?

Today I feel: cold

Go Fish

I will never not be annoyed with people when I go and swim laps. Almost every blog I've ever had, has featured some (many) posts about how stupid and inconsiderate swimmers are. Just because you've paid 5 fucking dollars to get in and have fancy goggles doesn't mean you can go and swim as fast as you like in the designated "SLOW" swimming lane.

Bloody arrogant pig of a man was pushing past swimmers (myself included) to overtake them as he rushed up and down the pool. See these six other lanes beside you? Yeah, they're not there just for decoration. Go and swim in the "FAST" lane if you're so desperate to match your swimming pace to your driving speed. Little pinkie anyone?

I can't wait to buy my own lap pool.

Where The Wild Things Are

Somebody stop this delusional writer! They continue to post horrifying stories and besmirch the good name of the Kitten board. It makes me so annoyed.

I need to think of other things, better things.

Like Angie Harmon for instance. Yes, she's too thin and married and a Republican. But we can forgive her all of those indescretions after last nights episode of The Women's Murder Club. She crash tackled a suspect into a pond, handcuffed the guy underwater, and came out looking like she'd just stepped off the set of Wild Things. All scowly and tight wet clothesy. It was a time.

And speaking of angry swimming brunette celebrities, I haven't seen MROD in the gossip columns for a while now. Is she still in jail? Surely not. Do her parole terms indicate that she can't drink and then skinny dip?

Today I feel: slightly lecherous. I'm not sure if that's the word I'm looking for, but it'll do.