A Lazy Blogpost....

My next blog post was going to be about Facebook. About how much I hate it (I reckon it's an evil cult), yet cannot bring myself to leave. But unfortunately I am knackered. My due date was last Saturday and the chances of me mustering up enough energy to write something witty and interesting are about as probable as me going for a jog right now. So I am doing a quick blog on some random facts about me. Basically another idea I have stolen from the various blogs I have been reading obsessively throughout my maternity leave. I promise my inclination to come up with something slightly more original will return with my inclination to get dressed in the morning. Here's hoping anyway.

So here we go:

• I have a weird eating habit and, as yet, have been unable to find anyone else who shares this strange trait. Basically, I won't mix meat. So, for example, I wouldn't eat a chicken and bacon sandwich or a paella that had chicken and chorizo in it. For some reason, and don't ask me why, I cannot abide the thought of chewing on more than one animal at the same time. Even if it tastes nice, the psychological factor freaks me out so much that I cannot bring myself to swallow without gagging. This only applies to land animals. I am fine with seafood and can more than happily eat a seafood platter or a mixed seafood pasta. To this day, I have yet to meet someone who doesn't think this is weird. And endless Google searches have come up with nothing to imply there are others out there like me. Ex-boyfriends have tried to find out if there is a name for it but to no avail. I'm obviously just weird. But a bit different, which I kind of like.

• I get compared alot to Sarah Jessica Parker. And I genuinely hate it. Without sounding rude, I don't think she is particularly blessed facially, and thus find the comparison rather offensive. Many usually try and back peddle furiously by claiming that it is purely my mannerisms that they think are similar. Usually right after they have seen the look on my face. 

Cruel, I know.

                                                                       

• I don't like animals. I know, I know, how can anyone not like a cute little puppy or a playful little kitten? But I don't. I can appreciate their cuteness from a distance, or in a picture, maybe, but being around animals makes me uncomfortable. Apart from the smell, I have a thing about hand washing and I know that there are plenty of people out there who would happily prepare food without washing their hands first, despite having previously been playing and petting their pet. And this grosses me out. But before you all start calling me Cruella De Ville, it doesn't mean I want to see them harmed in any way. In fact, nothing breaks my heart more than the thought of someone being cruel to a poor, defenceless animal. And until I became pregnant, and had to start making cutbacks, I gave a monthly direct debit donation to the SSPCA. There are a few things you might be able to trace my pet hatred back to. A bite on the head from a Doberman when I was a baby or being trampled on by a racehorse when I was 6. But the truth is there is no deep-rooted psychological reason for my dislike. I am just a bit of a princess and like everything to be clean and smell nice.

• I can cook. And cook well actually. I've always had a natural flair and feel for things in the kitchen and can usually whip up something tasty with or without a recipe just using my natural instinct. However, I cannot bake to save myself. I blame my Mum who is also a great cook but a terrible baker. I don't know why this is. Possibly because baking requires such precise and levelled measurements and I have a problem sticking to rules. The few occasions that I have attempted things like brownies or cakes have been absolute failures. So, as a result, the only fairy cakes I will be making with my daughter will be the ones that come from a box with the simple instruction 'just add milk'. I do love those little Disney rice paper picture things you stick on the top though. Do you still get them? I hope so.

I don't do cakes.

                                                                                 

• I am obsessed with reality television. To a disgusting level. From Big Brother, to X Factor to that bird from Steps trying to lose 10 stone. I love it all. Given that I am relatively intelligent, and able to hold my own in a fair amount of highbrow conversations, you would think that I would view such rubbish as dumb and time-wasteful. But it's my guilty pleasure, and one which I don't intend on giving up. The only ones that have never really sucked me in is Strictly Come Dancing and Dancing on Ice. I obviously just don't have a whole lot of love for the dancing. But I'll still happily watch them if there is nothing else on. I draw the line at watching Jeremy Kyle though. There's liking reality telly and there's just being an arsehole. 

• Every so often life scares the absolute shit out of me and I have to stop, take a breath and then do something dramatic. I've been like this since I was a teenager. One of my fears is not seeing the world  and the result was a trip round Australia, Europe and latterly California. Another being trapped in the wrong career. In my early twenties I quit a well-paid job that I had spent years working my way up to, and walked completely out of the only industry I had ever known. I had nothing else in the pipeline and ended up working behind a bar. In a short space of time but with a bit of hard-work, I went from managing another bar to managing a restaurant. But I am not entirely sure that is what I want to do either. So what I am trying to say is, I am nearly 28 years old and I still have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life. But for now (and I never thought you would ever hear me say this), I am happy to spend the next little while just being a Mummy. Anyone who knows me will know how much it actually physically kills me to say something like that, but it's true. And I don't care if anyone judges me for it.

• I hate Daniel Beddingfield. I mean I really can't stand him. And I have no sensible reason for this. Its just some weird aversion/phobia type thing I have had ever since the first time I saw the annoying little git on the TV. Luckily you don't hear from him much anymore, but I still have to leave the room every time one of his songs comes on. And although I feigned concern and shock when it came out he'd been in a bad car accident a few years ago, behind the worried look was a glimmer of hope. Shocking, I know. 

Twat.

                                                                      

• I am an eternal optimist. This is the one that will really surprise people. I often come across as cynical and, in some darker times, I have been low enough to believe that there was no light at the end of the tunnel. But no matter how miserable, depressed or helpless I may have seemed when I have been knocked, I have always believed that things get better. Since I was a little girl I can always remember feeling 'lucky'. Not in a material way, more in a 'I just absolutely know that something amazing is waiting around the corner' kind of way. And every single time, something has been. It also helps if you create the illusion that life is fabulous. Not only does this piss off the haters, but eventually it starts to become a reality.

So, voila. A blog post. Even though my back, pelvis and legs all ache and I cannot get out of bed or get up from the sofa without making old man noises. 

Hopefully next time I blog I will be a Mummy..........