Is there life outside of Pompey?

The simple answer, of course, is "VERY MUCH SO".

Last weekend, I went North. Back to my roots, as it were, in West Yorkshire. Somewhere around Sheffield on the M1 I always get that warm, fuzzy feeling, the kind you get just before going to bed :) I was heading to Leeds, my favourite city in England.

The journey began boringly enough (apart from the drunk woman abusing the driver at The Hard) but at the services in Daventry there was a kerfuffle from the youngest passengers. During our 15 minute scheduled stop, one of the chavlets was dumped by her boyfriend. By text. Harsh but not entirely unsurprising considering how mental she was. Following 10 minutes of tantrum in the middle of the car park, she was refusing to get back on the coach! The driver, knowing there are some National Express guidelines for dealing with psychotic teenagers, tried everything from bribery to threatening to leave her on the M1. Eventually, her friend managed to convince her that a service station is not the best place to spend the night and the journey recommenced.

This blog is mainly going to be about coach journeys, so I shall continue with the travelling tales and focus on the journey home. My Leeds experience can wait for a further blog.

Victoria Coach Station can only be described as a collection of the lowest life forms gathered in a stiflingly confined space. Still, at least there are sharps bins in the loos, just in case you decide to jack up whilst waiting for the 431 to Penzance! Plus, a pigeon flew in my face which made me drop coffee all down my jumper!

Why is it that I seem to have nutters gravitating towards me like a fly to shit? The man diagonally in front of me had a blatant addiction to Vicks nasal inhaler, shoving it up his snout every 30 seconds for about 70 miles. He also sported the ultimate "man in his 50s" combo: hideous combover; faded green jeans; brown hiking boots; beige fleece and a bottle green padded gilet...work it baby! Even his chewing annoyed me, being that he insisted on biting off two mouthfuls every time and resembled a cow chewing cud...yuk!

I did, however, come across the coolest nun in christendom. She sat opposite me and was checking her Facebook on her Blackberry. Is this now standard-issue equipment for the nun about town? I wish I knew what her username was, I'd go add her!

Having been stuck in Wandsworth for just over an hour in rush hour, it was a blessed relief to see the A3. Nine and a half hours on your butt is just not fun and I was sooooooooo happy to be returning to Vinka Towers! Still, my first long-haul coach trip is now under my belt so here's to the next excursion. Happy motoring to one and all :D

Stranded in the PO2

It's raining. Again. The isolation I feel at being in the grim North of Portsmouth is further compounded when the weather is this bad. In the Summer, I will happily meander down to the sea front with a spring in my step but, strangely, when there is a full-scale downpour I don't feel so compelled. It's dark too. And cold.

By constantly complaining about the weather, I do feel that I am bowing to the stereotype of being "British". We queue and we complain. Usually about the weather. As Brits we find it hard to deal with both ends of the spectrum, having neither the stamina or patience to endure sub-zero temperatures and rain, nor the Mediterranean stubbornness when faced with 42 degrees! We seem to like the middle road - about 25 degrees with a bit of sun. Give us a parasol, a beer and some chips and watch us grin :D

Where I live, you don't need a weather forecast. Our TV is magic and can predict the weather. Guaranteed, if there is a storm coming, the Sky TV will turn itself off. 30 seconds later, the heavens will open and the gitbag of an appliance will be vindicated! Does that mean I have Psychic TV?

Grumpy Old Woman?

During yet another bout of boredom I was channel surfing and settled upon "Grumpy Old Women" I am by no means old but I am positive I have skipped a generation and become my Nan. Recently I have found myself berating music ("this isn't music", "what happened to writing a tune", "I remember the original") and, even more terrifyingly, police officers are definitely getting younger.....a sure sign of reaching OAP-dom :( BUT nothing could have prepared me for siding with Ann Widdecombe on the subject of motherhood. Ann Widdecombe!!!

Being of a slightly dappy nature, I am looking forward to an age where I can justifiably be eccentric. I plan on having the works: endless chiffon; bright orange hair; 15 cats and a dusty library of Barbara Cartland novels. Hooray for being a crazy old cat lady! I figure, if I play my cards right I can go the whole Miss Haversham hog and sit in a rotting wedding dress, barking instructions to minions in my care home. Good times :D

At work a few days ago, a discussion arose around the subject of dancing like a Mum. This is a fascinating phenomenon. Do I not dance like a Mum, purely because I'm not a Mum? I have friends who have yet to bear fruit and still do the elbows-out-two-step. How is this possible? On the flip side, I know Mums who have a fantastic presence on the dancefloor. The concept confuses me greatly (but then most things do!)

One other subject that vexes me greatly is, at what point does one become "Madam"? I do object to 18 year olds referring to me as Madam. This seemed to happen almost overnight. Is there a male equivalent or as a bloke are you always Sir?

I suppose I should take advantage of being young-ish, free and single (pffft) while I have the chance. I can be a Grumpy Old Woman once I hit the big 6-0 :)

Today I want to talk about.....

.....Porpoise Sex Toys. It was a topic that came up in conversation today. Obviously, not a discussion that everyone has but, where I live, it's the norm rather than the exception :)

I was thinking about Manatees (as you do) and how they are known commonly as "sea cows". A little odd, I thought, as you rarely hear of Manatee Mozzarella! My housemate, being extremely well-read on the subject of aquatic mammalia, mentioned Dugongs. "Dugongs", I remarked, "is that the Manatee equivalent of a sex toy?" I will admit that I was only half-listening (and half-joking) and this is where my misunderstandings occur, but, in addition I do possess a level of naivety akin to a 7 year old in some respects. (I have since Googled Dugongs and very nice they seem too - for a mammal!)

A further example of my selective hearing/general confusion is the delightful Portsmouth band "Speed the Collapse". I totally misheard that when I met them and was referring to "Speedy Flaps" for at least 2 months! Again, Google (and the aid of slightly more sane friends) is a useful tool. But, where would everyone I know be without my constant confusion? It's good for yet another embarrassing Vicky anecdote if nothing else.

To summarise, the topic of this blog was technically "selective hearing" and not Porpoise Dildos, but where's the fun in that?

Cows do the craziest things....

...for example, sitting outside my bedroom window mooing like a good'un. That's what it sounds like anyway. It is, in fact, the delightful westerly gales that seem to be battering my house. Add to that the newly arrived water feature under my window and it's almost like having Hurricane Katrina in the PO2 :( My cat is a huge fan of the windowsill fountain and spends most days licking the walls...not a euphemism! Can a cat be poisoned by emulsion or have they genetically adapted and it now forms part of their 5 a day?! (Biscuits, Water, Emulsion, Tuna, Random Lint/Fluff)

As a pedestrian I do find the barrage of rain and gale force winds a trifle annoying. Most storm drains in Portsmouth seem to stop functioning whenever they are faced with a storm and as a result anyone out in the elements takes their life in their own hands when leaving the house. Don't get me wrong, I quite often sport a wetsuit and flippers when out and about but even that is no defence against an Aqua Cars driver hellbent on drowning innocent passers by! Should I just admit defeat and invest in a kayak? And if so, where the hell does one store such an item? Are kayaks allowed to use the bus lane? So many questions.......

Long time no post!

So, 2 years. That's impressive even by my standards!

Initially I began this so I was able to use it at work, get a better understanding of technology, be able to explain to users exactly what the benefits of blogging were. As you can probably see, this didn't happen.

I will attempt to blog henceforth. This is so I can link it with the delightful radio show (of which I am an avid contributor) and eventually the fanzine (of which I will be an avid contributor!)

Who knows how this experiment will fare....judging by my past efforts, probably not too well but where there's a willy there's a way and all that gubbins :D