What is the first thought that comes to mind when someone says ‘bankers’?
$*^@! is probably the answer.
The bankers are not the most popular people at the moment – oh, I must forget that they are closely followed by the politicians.
I was shown this video last week and wanted to share it with you (my friends around the world).
It really reflects how the ordinary people feel about the people in power!
Power to the people!
Enjoy the song.
The song ‘Sing’ by Gary Barlow is an incredible one. It gives me goosebumps every time I listen to it. The power of children and adults singing together from around the world. Amazing!
Here is the Gary Barlow video. If you have never seen it then sit back and enjoy.
I was on YouTube looking for an instrumental version of it and came across this video. One man in his house, performing over the backing track with his guitar.
What talent!!! It’s brilliant.
Firstly guys, I would like to say “Hello, I’m back”. I haven’t blogged for over a month. Work has been manic and so I haven’t had a moment to think.
At the end of September I flew over to London to take part in the first ever ‘Big Gay 10k’ run. I was very excited about doing the run. It was my first ever run. I was going to crawl and possibly die in a gutter do my best and try to get a good time.
For those who had read more on my Just Giving charity site would have known that I had been training to run since the beginning of July. Fun, fun, fun…
Well – 400 people took part in the 10km run in London. Some were runners, some were walkers and the rest were mincers!
The route was fantastic! Here are some photos from the fantastic day. (I’m in the blue vest, my fiancé is in bright yellow). Our super friends Sue and Caroline came to support us.
The fantastic route with London’s finest landmarks all the way around.
The race was started by Cheryl Baker, in pink in the photos (from Bucks Fizz, the 1980s pop group who won the Eurovision Song Contest in 1981). I even met her and had a post-run-sweaty photo together. Once the race was started, Bas and I were off like a shot. My music was playing and I was high on adrenaline. I wanted to get a good time. So far my best time had been 10km in 52 minutes (I was averaging 55 mins).
We kept up with the front group and split from the main ‘pack’. The streets of London were packed. As we all reached the Embankment, where the London Eye stands we had to wriggle and jump in and out of the tourists. As it was the first Big Gay 10k in London the organisers had been unable to clear roads or pavements, meaning for us that we had to contend with human-obstacles. They must have wondered what was happening…
Halfway through the race I realised that I was well over my usual pace. I got ahead of Bas who probably got caught in the crowds. Bas caught up with me at about 7 or 8km into the run. That was when we came face-to-face with the photographers. (Time to look as though I was loving it…).
At 8km I hit the wall. Not literally – a wall of pain. I really didn’t know if my body would get to the 10km finish line. Bas was brilliant and ran along side me the rest of the way. The last bridge was the last hurdle. I said to Bas “I don’t want to go uphill anymore”. He replied that we were there.
We had made it.
We came 28th and 29th (seconds divided us). 29th!!!! From 400!!!!!
Stunned. You can see my time below. Just under 51 minutes. It probably took me those 41 seconds to stop my timer.
You can see how much money I was lucky enough to raise for a great charity in London! Brilliant supporters – thank you!
Proof on my time! I am still in shock that I managed it.
The breakdown of the route.
The amount I raised for ‘London Friend’.
I used to hate long distance running. I would watch runners go past and envy the fact that they could do it – and wondered why they liked it.
Strangely enough that all changed earlier this year. I had heard about an App for my phone which could help you get from ‘couch potato’ to a runner (possibly good enough for the Olympics… okay, I can dream).
I have stuck to the challenges and kept running a few times a week (once every two days when I’m being really good).
A friend of mine in London posted information about the first Big Gay 10K in London on Facebook and I was hooked…
A real challenge for me. Will you support me? Here’s my page.
What have I got myself into? The next thing I knew I was signing up for my very first ‘proper’ run. I am currently running distances of 3-4K. The 10K might just finish me off…
Here I am – Looking my most sporty….
I have set up a Just Giving page so that you can track my progress and see if I am still alive. Of course, I’ll be blogging more about it here too.
In short – this is what it’s all about.
I would love it if you took the time to check out my Just Giving page – You may even like to make a small donation for the wonderful charity. (That’s the easy bit – I’ll be the one running around London in September).
“The youngsters of today”.
Oh what a terrible bunch.
“We were never like that when we were young”.
I am forever seeing emails, posts and memories of a rose-tinted past of when older generations lived an idyllic life. But – hang on a minute. I think some people have got it all wrong. Are the older generations right when they criticise the young people today? Read some of the comments below and take a minute to really think about them.
“The younger generation are so violent – It’s all because of the violent computer games”.
Which generation was it that started two World Wars?
“The younger generation have no family values”.
Which generation shipped off women to have their babies then forced them to return home in shame and never speak of their children, who they would never see again.
“The younger generation are always texting and using their phones – Facebooking and Tweeting…”
Which generation effectively Facebooked and Tweeted across their garden fences when entire communities lived in the same village or town. The world is more mobile now but the gossip is just as connected now as ever.
“The younger generation have no respect”.
Which generation showed little respect to other cultures (creating Empires, claiming nations, having slaves, banning mixed race marriages), or homosexuals (banning same-sex marriage)? Which generation created more divides between social and ethnic groups?
“The young are not educated”.
Which generation felt the need to only educate the men and knew that a woman’s place was at home?
If the older generation are proud then so be it, but I am glad to be from the younger, progressive, more open, less high-and-mighty generation where people can be more free with their lives. People can marry who they wish without having to live in shame or run the risk of being disowned by their families and friends.
The world is far from perfect – but surely it is improving – human rights continue to improve.
I would rather live in 2012 (which the older generation criticise so often) than the repressed 1940s.
Not much to say really on the topic… Except this:
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1. To remove someone from your Livejournal, MySpace, Facebook, or other social networking site. Doing this is often seen as a passive-aggressive move, telling the person without telling them that you no longer want to be friends. It’s also commonly a response to drama. Defriending someone often causes more drama. There are sometimes valid reasons for doing this.
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That’s the definition of ‘defriending’ from Urban Dictionary. I think it quite hits the nail on the head.
We didn’t have these issues before Facebook. But, finding out someone’s not interested in being friends because they’ve removed themselves on FB is always gonna be a shocker.
I have always heard that certain drivers of certain cars can be prone to displaying unsavoury characteristics… The other day I was in the car heading to the shops when I saw some typical ‘Porsche’ behaviour…
I have to say at this point that the driver was, unsurprisingly, male and was, unsurprisingly, short-fused.
The roads were quite busy as they went from two lanes into one. The car in front (a small hatchback – I think it was a Fiat Punto) was going along nicely when the Porsche flew up beside us and tried to push in front of the Fiat driver. The Fiat driver was having non of it as they clearly didn’t like being cut up so aggressively. We expected the Porsche driver to ease back and slot in front of us – but no… He slammed forward full speed and tried to get even further ahead. When that didn’t work he swerved to bully his way in front of the Fiat driver once again.
By this point we were so impressed with the Fiat driver. It was a ‘David and Goliath’ moment and boy we wanted David to win this battle too. The people in the Fiat kept their cool and drove on. The Porsche driver’s ego was dented and he – was – FURIOUS! Next he swung in right behind the Fiat and beeped the horn then swung his fists about. The toys were well and truly out of the pram by this moment.
Our cars arrived at a set of traffic lights. The Fiat was directly in front of us again (driven by a couple in their early 60s) and the Porsche pulled up right beside them. The 30-something, Porsche driver, leaned over his ‘girlfriend’ (I hope she had more taste than to have married him) and he started yelling, cursing and sticking his fingers up at the couple. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe that he actually thought he was right. I couldn’t believe that he was so easily and so quickly enraged. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t realise that he was making a total pr*ck of himself (excuse my language, but he really was…). He hasn’t happy until he’d ranted at them. The couple stayed so calm and ignored him. Brilliant!
Go Fiat couple! You guys made my day!
So, next time you all see a Porsche driver, think about my story… You may also like the little joke below.
This blonde looking for work sees a sign on a house: “PAINTER WANTED.” So she goes to the house and knocks on the door, telling the owner, “I’m here for the paint job.”
“OK.” The guys hands her a couple of cans of latex. “Here’s the paint. I want you to paint the porch.”
She says, “No problem,” gets the paint and sets off to work. It’s not very long until she knocks on the door again. “All finished.”
Handing over the money, the owner exclaims, “That didn’t take very long!”
“I even gave it two coats,” she says, pocketing the money. “And oh, by the way, it’s not a Porch, it’s a Ferrari.”
It’s not hard to find websites and pictures mocking Porsche drivers – they’ve clearly made a rod for their own back. Here’s a good one for you.
I wonder what you thought when you read the title of this post. I wonder what images flashed into your mind as you scanned the words and then clicked on the link.
My post today comes after watching a moving video showing Maureen Walsh, a Republican in the United States of America talk on the subject of gay marriage. Her political direction is not what I am focusing on today – more the words which she shares. The speech she gave was brief – only four minutes, but it felt so personal.
I am lucky to live in a country where I am free to marry who I choose. In fact, I will be marrying the partner I love and want to spend my life with… I am lucky to be here and not in one of the many countries which continue to discriminate so strongly against homosexuality.
Please watch the video. It doesn’t take long. Just listen to how passionately she speaks on the subject.
I wonder what you’re thinking right now…
I am thinking about the words she used:
“How can I deny anyone the right to have that incredible bond with another individual in life?”
So true.
I wish more people felt this way.
I thought it would be a good idea to summarise my months throughout 2012. It is set to be a cracker of a year (a great year, to all my non-English readers, or should I say readers from outside of northern England).
January started most dramatically. Bas, my husband-to-be (I love saying that), and I travelled back to The Netherlands after enjoying Christmas in the UK. The drive from England to the Channel Tunnel was horrendous. When I say horrendous I mean utterly vile. Scary. At-my-wits-end-scary. I thought my life would end at some point on that journey. The rain was torrential and never-ending. Once through the Channel Tunnel (and after a welcome 30-minute break on the train), we continued our hell-raising journey into France where the bloody rain continued. How could so much water fall from the sky? Belgium proved to be no better – The rain poured from the sky and our car barely managed to stay on the road. Driving through a swimming pool is never recommended and as the car shook, swerved and vibrated its way along, the thought went through my head on more than one occasion that skis may have been a better option than wheels. I lived to tell the tale though, so all’s well that ends well.
It was so much worse than this...
January also brings with it the worst time of year, the post-Christmas-blues. Apartments and houses look so bland and bare without the joyful Christmas decorations. Is it just me, or am I the only one who never ceases to be shocked at how bare a home can look without the decorations hanging? It never seems that bare in November…
I was back at work, greeted by a class full of happy little three-year olds all eager to see their friends again – and their teacher, of course. One little boy saw me on the first morning back and said my name with such enthusiasm. It was as though he’d not seen me for months, years – or as though he thought he may never have seen me again…. Bless.
In order to brighten the mood, we had friends over for a games evening. I love games. Bas does not. Therefore, we played games. And Bas loved them. I won’t hear a word against them. That is the basis of our relationship. I am right. 
We played some great games – word games where one team had to name 10 things related to a category. The highlight of the night being when my team was asked to name 10 deserts… We looked puzzled and skipped the category. I don’t know deserts other than Gobi, Sahara… I’m struggling. We asked to hear the answers – clearly out of interest. Answer #1: Pavlova. I have to hold my hand up and admit that after a few glasses of wine I sat and pondered where this Pavlova desert may be. Possible Eastern Europe…? The penny did not take long to drop. DESSERTS! My wonderful other-half avoided reading the next answer – trifle. We would have been laughing into the early hours. I love games.
A fab game. You must play it.
Throughout the rest of January, we visited family in The Netherlands, caught up with friends, helped our wonderful friend-and-bride-to-be choose her wedding dress. Yay! We had a decorator in to plaster the kitchen (our kitchen shall be finished this year – finally); we watched Carnage and The Iron Lady (Streep must win Best Actress at the Oscars) at the cinema; and we had meals out. Good fun all round.
Oh, but then there was the party Sunday. The Sunday we shall not forget. It started with a neighbourhood borrel (drinks and nibbles) at the pub along the street from our apartment. All our Dutch neighbours were there – although we didn’t recognise a soul. Normally I know one or two – but the absence of everyone from our actual street made the stress-levels rise. I was using all my Dutch skills. Speak Dutch and survive. I survived – almost. We were labelled on entry with a post-it note from the very official looking ‘organiser’, power-dressed in red. After spelling my name repeatedly (in Dutch), I changed from Jamey to Jami to Jame where I finally gave in. I’d be Jame for the evening – for the quiet life. Jamie isn’t difficult to spell. What panicked me next was seeing the organisers hand out coloured flower stickers. There was a game to be played. Panic stations. I know, I know – I like games. But not in Dutch and not when I know that my Dutch partner is clearly not going to be in my team. We ended up separated. I must not panic. I must keep calm. Drink. Hours later, and after meeting some lovely neighbours we made our way, on bikes, to another party. You can see where this is going. We drank. We chatted. We drank and had a fantastic evening – until home time. That was when the wall of reality hit. Cycling home was an experience.
Oh – and January officially became my busiest month for hits on WordPress. Thanks guys!
What a month. January – you have been memorable.
Bring it on February!
It’s only a couple of days since I posted a scary picture. Here’s another chiller. If you haven’t seen the last then this is worse, so much worse. You’ll never visit Grandma’s house again.
You’ve been warned.
Look at the picture. Just keep looking closely and then you’ll see something you weren’t counting on.
Not one for the kids. That’s unless you never want them to sleep again.
Did you just look over your shoulder?
Here’s the other one – just in case you’re hardcore and love being scared.
Two Million Gods Terri’s Little Corner Sarsm’s Blog The Single Cell The Life Of Jamie
