Busy busy busy

Phew, what a whirlwind few weeks. I have barely had time to sit down and the only thing remaining of my old routine is watching Dynasty!

That said, I am quite chipper. I like having things to get my teeth into and being able to use my brain. The Dirty South is now up and running - the team are out and about and are doing a grand job covering events in the South. Southsea Fest is just around the corner and I will have my hands full with the new volunteering project, it'll be hard work but we are the first festival in the country to offer this scheme. Woohoo! Quite frankly, I am busier than a busy thing on a particularly busy day BUT in no way am I bored!

The majority of my life now is unpaid. It seems silly but all the work I do for Southsea Fest, the webzine and my voluntary work will help me far more in my chosen career path than my actual job. I am happy with the things I'm doing, which means I am better able to cope with the mundanity of my work life. The thing I have to stop, is the ideas I come up with when I have 5 minutes of downtime. It just results in yet more work! Is there a way of controlling that do you think?

Arse Idol

Last night I attended the premiere of "Love You Too" at Cinema Number 6. I shall not be reviewing the film on here, that will be available over at The Dirty South website.

What I do want to discuss is the afterparty! Squishing so many people into Sam's terraced house was quite a feat! Much alcohol was consumed and I am entirely to blame for "Arse Idol", an idea based on the amount of nudity contained within the film. I felt the other blokes needed a platform to exhibit their wares (haha) It's only fair!

So, 5 contenders stepped forward and I attempted to mark each backside based on technical ability and artistic interpretation. The results are as follows:

Xan 5.5/10

Mark 6.5/10

Sam 7/10

Isaac 7.5/10

Jack 7.5/10

The fact there was a tie-break situation was nearly my downfall! I do not feel able to discuss the events following my adjudication, needless to say I ended up with a scrotum on my shoulder and will need counselling for the forseeable future :D

Grrrrrrr, the Vinkasaur roars!

There are not enough hours in the day to achieve everything. Short of cloning myself (which is not wise, the world is not ready for two Vickys!) I shall just have to soldier on. As such, sleep deprivation is the norm and I am becoming a total insomniac. Telly is rubbish at 3am, radio is rubbish at 3am and being awake is rubbish at 3am :(

Several ideas have been put forward to alleviate my sleeping (or lack thereof) issues:

1 A mobile (not phone, but the whirly animal things that hang over a cot) I immediately rejected this idea on the basis that it will probably keep me awake even more by wanting to play with it!

2 Soft and soothing music. Even Selected Ambient Works is not doing it for me (Volume 1 or 2!!)

3 Reading. I am currently reading (or attempting to read) The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas. I will be awake sobbing and visualising Auschwitz, so have rejected this idea on those grounds.

My own idea is a combination of a mallet and chloroform. It's foolproof! I may be left with minor concussion or increased headaches but if it means I get some sleep, it's a risk I'm willing to take. A tired Vinkasaur is a grouchy Vinkasaur :(

A dilemma approacheth

Anyone who knows me will know that I do a lot of work for charity. In fact, most of the work I do is for charity being that I only work for 15 hours a week. I love what I do - always have done.

At present there are a load of projects I am juggling. The Dirty South will be launching soon and Southsea Fest ventures are about to kick off in earnest, plus I am helping a group get funding for counselling services, advising on a youth project and there are several charity events I am planning for the rest of the year (more on this at a later date!) There is no doubt that I am busy!

So, when an opportunity arose for me to be the regional coordinator for Refugee Week I was really excited. It's a voluntary post for one day a week between now and July, covering the South and South-East region. The aim is to be the point of contact for RCOs and for the media. I would love it, I'd be really getting my teeth into things but I know that the press enquiries and community group queries will not only happen on a Tuesday from 9 til 5.

I am stretched almost to breaking point as it is, if I took this on too would it be the straw that broke the capybara's back? Technically there simply aren't enough hours in the week for me to take this position but if I don't I would be missing a huge opportunity to enhance my experience, help out the regional Refugee Community Organisations (RCOs) and raise awareness. I find it hard to say no when asked to help but, in truth, I am finding this a difficult decision to make.

Hurtling towards Christmas again.....

So, a week has passed. Already. My Nan always warned me that time flew when you got older but I was not expecting such breakneck speed until I was well into my seventies, clad in chiffon, with 16 cats and a penchant for hairnets. As it is, my birthday seems to come round twice a year and Christmas is neverending! She's a wise woman, my Nan, casting aside her habit for knitting pants for teddies and calling me by every name bar my own :)

In some respects I feel I have skipped a generation entirely and have morphed into Nanny Olive. Aside from my love of tea and cake in the afternoon, I seem to have become more forgetful AND more scathing of popular music. "Chipmunk, in my day that was a small rodent" I do have similarities to my Dad too. I can vividly remember him complaining about how hard it was to replace his vinyl with CDs (what a fogey) and it was only recently I realised I had been doing the exact same things for years with my cassettes - do you *know* how hard it is to get Strangelove on CD?!

Whilst talking to my Mum this week I was frantically looking for my mobile. I turned my whole room upside-down in the hunt (one handed of course) until I realised it was clamped to my ear and I had been talking into it for 30 minutes prior to panic. Lost glasses, forgetting why you've walked into a room - all classic examples of early onset "Nan-ness" Unfortunately, I have not completely transformed into my Nan, as I am without the ability to knit! My poor bears will have to remain naked for the forseeable future....

Saints?

We are approaching Valentine's Day. St Valentine was the patron saint of lovers, the betrothed and had the less glamorous job of "protection against plague" To me, his job description was all over the place. Hit and miss, as it were! As I was discussing with my housemate earlier, it's a bit like being in charge of a country but also having responsibility for making sure each sock was part of a pair.

To keep myself amused this evening I have compiled a list of potential saints:

1) St Elsewhere: The patron saint of avoiding people after embarrassing situations

2) St Reatham: The patron saint of shitty areas of London which have delusions of grandeur

3) St Amina: The patron saint of the discomfort suffered after an infrequent visit to the gym

4) St Itch: The patron saint of insane Disney characters

5) St Ylophone: The patron saint of pointless musical instruments that you could get as a kid which have now been replaced by Air Guitar or Rock Group

6) St Arving: The patron saint of revisiting the fridge every 5 minutes despite there being nothing in there

7) St Arling: The patron saint of bird poo

8) St Arch: The patron saint of burning a hole in your favourite shirt right before an important meeting and/or job interview

9) St Ring: The patron saint of random bits of detritus and fluff extracted from your pocket

10) St Abbing: The patron saint of gangs

Oooooh, I could do this for hours :D

Grouchysaurus!!

The Grouchysaurus is an even rarer species than the Vinkasaurus. It's the grumpy, sullen and tetchy cousin of the Vinkasaurus. Basically, what the Vinkasaurus becomes when severely riled! It is seldom seen but Portsmouth City Council seems to bring out the be(a)st in most people :(

I can deal with incompetence, even with gross incompetence but somehow lack of communication, incorrect information, horrendous customer service, threatening behaviour AND gross incompetence pushes me over the edge. The majority of people will have complaints about their local government: dodgy dealings; expense scandals; misuse of taxpayer money; building of the Spinnaker Tower; etc etc but my council refuse to believe you can be a student if you are over the age of 21 (fancy that!)

I was recently investigated for council tax fraud, as I claim a piffling 25% discount for single occupancy. Whilst I do have a housemate, he is a full-time student and is exempt from paying council tax. So, Portsmouth City Council in their worldly-wise way declared it an impossibility that he could be a student as he is 28! It beggars belief that they investigated me for taking money from them, when in fact I was entitled to money in the form of a whole £4.35 a week in council tax benefit, which they witheld pending my "investigation" (I did tell them what they could do with this after they discovered I had not claimed my 25% illegally!)

The latest council tax drama involved a visit from a bailiff, as I had missed a payment of £8 back in November. Worthy of a prison sentence, indeed! This bailiff visit is costing me £24.50 in addition to my council tax and the arrears. Quite how one is expected to function under such Draconian laws is beyond me. I have to inform them every time I sneeze (in triplicate!) and yet they couldn't let me know I had accidentally missed a payment?!

Perhaps if I had received my whopping £4.35 a week, none of this would have happened. You gotta love bureaucracy!

My Music Wishlist for 2010

I thought it was probably about time I put together a wishlist for the coming year. I have separated it into categories, tonight's being the music related vision. I don't ask for much:

1) Tim Smith gets better and Cardiacs get back to the live circuit (This is at the top, as it is my dearest wish!) I feel a sense of loss at not having seen them for so long, the bitter irony of Tim having suffered from a cardiac arrest is still not lost.

2) Strangelove reform. Every other bugger is doing it so why not them?! My life would be nearly complete - Chapterhouse are touring for the first time in ages, My Bloody Valentine have returned....surely the next step is for Patrick Duff to see sense and come backkkkkkkkkkk :)

3) Richey Manic reappears (chances of success are slim it has to be said, but he'd make a fab zombie if he were to come back "dead") He was the best one, apart from maybe Nicky Wire at a push, and they've gone Dad Rock since his disappearance!

4) Vinkafest is launched in Staunton Country Park. Aphex Twin headlines the first night and NME hail it as "the best new festival" (we all know how accurate *they* are) Eddie Izzard comperes and Gordon Ramsay hails the "vegetarian, gluten-free menu" as groundbreaking :) £50,000 is raised for my favourite charities and I receive an MBE for my contribution to music!

I can't think of anymore, I'm far too distracted with my "Top Ten Mammals" list :)

Standard Living

As humans we are expected to settle down and procreate. After all, that's why we're here. The older I get, the more likely I am to wish to buck this trend. I am no nearer getting a biological clock or maternal streak than I was when I was 17.

Weddings are stressful! I have several friends who were previously laid back and fun to be around. Since announcing their engagement these people have become possessed. Everything becomes urgent, all other topics of conversation are now irrelevant, catering has replaced Big Brother and don't even get me started on the guestlist!! Why do people do this to themselves? Do we, as a society, genuinely still need to feel we are part of an accepted tradition? Is it to keep the parents happy? Surely, it can't be for the sake of the kids, as most children are born out of wedlock these days.

The only thing more likely to give me an anxiety attack than weddings, is children. I love kids, I get on brilliantly with them, they respond well to me (I have a theory that it's because I look and act like a 7 year old Moomin, so am non-threatening to your average child!) but I don't feel mature enough to have my own. Maybe I never will. I would want to be equipped with a user manual and have passed several exams before I am let loose as a mother. Perhaps I would be more inclined if there was a handy 0845 number you could call: Press 1 if your child has eaten Lego; Press 2 if he/she is having a tantrum in Tesco...you get the idea!

I am starting to accept that I am the exception rather than the rule in the majority of things and I have yet to decide if my friends who have kids and/or are married are insane or living the dream....

Two in one week??

Yep, two blogs in one week. I think I must just have a lot to get off my chest....

Not only will I have written two blogs this week, I will also have visited Brighton twice! I think it's safe to say that I have been out in Brighton more since I moved back than I did when I was a resident there. Although, as anyone who has lived in Brighton knows, you will spend so much on rent and council tax that there is barely enough left each week for a tin of beans let alone a night out.

Last night's expedition was to Spellbound with Mister Seamer. Spellbound bills itself as the "80s night for people who hate 80s nights". This is a bizarre concept. Despite not playing Rick Astley or Sonia it was, in essence, an 80s night! Okay, the crowd were a tad older and a little more "beige" in appearance but there was still a school disco feel about the evening. Amongst the fleeces and slacks were the goths, ahhh the goths, what can I say about them? I have always harboured a dislike for a particular sub-genre of goth. We've all seen them. The ones who are attempting to recreate Gary Oldman in Dracula: frilly shirt; dark glasses; comedy beard; long coat and cane (is this to ram up their backside if they get bored I wonder?) I have friends who suit the "trad goth" attire and wear it well. Others, amusingly, look like Gandalf's slightly camp, younger sibling...which can never be a good thing! A few words of advice if you are thinking of following this trend: legally your cane can be seen as a weapon; you *will* fall over in a dark room if wearing sunglasses; and people *will* think you're a pretentious tit if you attempt to discuss Byron in the toilet queue. You shall not piss!!!

I shall investigate Spellbound further at a later date but not too soon, as overdosing on the 80s can make a girl feel geriatric!

Something a bit music-y....

On Wednesday I ventured to Brighton with Messrs Seamer and Parham. In itself, this was an achievement, due to freak flurries along the south coast...global warming my butt!

I was looking forward to an evening of good friends and old fashioned post-rock, courtesy of Saxon Shore, and was not disappointed. Aside from the embarrassing incident, which occurred when accidentally offering the band my emergency pants, and the 14 mile trek to the toilets, it was a humdinger of a gig. I was, however, disappointed with the opening band. Their collective age was 30 and, using my finely-tuned powers of deduction, they were local. They kind of gave the game away by spending 10 minutes asking the audience if they knew random people and waving at their friends. Whilst every band has to start somewhere, there is no hope for them ever leaving Brighton if they exclude the remainder of the audience with their teenage babble. As such, local bands talking at their mates is at the top of my newly-formed "2010 hate list". Watch out for some new additions over the coming months :)

Also near the top of my hate list is pub toilets. Either you have the luxury of toilet roll but no lock (thus, having to balance precariously on the edge of the seat and perform the "foot on the door limbo") or you have to suffer the indignity of no toilet roll but a miraculously available lock (one bonus is that at least nobody can gatecrash whilst you practice your ablutions!) My only advice is to go everywhere with tissues shoved up your sleeve, that way you can go lockless with confidence :D

Happy New Year. Your horoscopes follow....

I am fascinated by horoscopes. I am not entirely convinced of their accuracy and neither am I convinced that, as a Taurean, myself and 2 billion other people worldwide will have a windfall this week. With that in mind my first post of the new year will outline your year ahead but in a more realistic fashion:

Capricorn (22 December - 20 January)

Not looking good for you. You will sneeze in November.

Aquarius (21 January - 19 February)

Also, not looking good for you. You will get a bit hot in July.

Pisces (20 February - 20 March)

Yep, not good for you either. You will have a slight headache in April.

Aries (21 March - 20 April)

Outlook is bleak. You will meet a random person in June (unless you're in a relationship, which means you won't meet anyone new at all this year!)

Taurus (20 April - 21 May)

Don't bother leaving the house. You will spend too much money in December.

Gemini (22 May - 21 June)

Stay in bed. You will break something in October.

Cancer (22 June - 23 July)

See above. You will eat too much on your birthday.

Leo (24 July - 23 August)

Buy a gun. You will find something at some point this year, no specifics.

Virgo (24 August - 23 September)

It's a hard life for virgins. Somebody will say something about you in May.

Libra (24 September - 23 October)

Give up now. Something you've always wanted won't happen.

Scorpio (24 October - 22 November)

Leave the country. It will rain in April.

Sagittarius (23 November - 21 December)

It's an intriguing year ahead for Sagittarians. The moon in Venus suggests an exciting encounter in March will result in a new project being proposed. Single? This is the year for you to meet a Virgo with a twinkle in his/her eye. Watch out for money worries in May but this should set you on the right path for an inheritance in September. June would be a great time to reconsider your career and perhaps investigate travel.

I'm sure the above is about as reliable as Mystic Meg, if a little more cynical!