lucy's blog

Appreciating the Passion of the Geek

Yesterday as I was waiting for my chips in a typical northern chip shop, I overheard another customer telling her friend about her younger brother's new hobby. "He's started getting into flying model planes, such a geek," she said with distaste, "and he's not even any good."
What's wrong with having a hobby? Now I do hate to stereotype, I really do but she struck me as the type of person who would look at anyone suspiciously who showed an interest in anything more than watching Coronation Street or the X-factor.

Woman to Woman

Well well well. Hasn't Ms Brick caused a stir?

I'm sure I'm one of millions writing a little blog about her but as the old insomnia strikes again I thought I'd have my say.

The Tragically Hip versuses The Comfortably Square

In the past week I have had the oppotunity to see two bands live, neither of which are really aimed at my demographic. It was certainly interesting to see the differences between them.

Firstly I am 29. In the last year or so I have started to find nightclubs tedious, too loud and full of 'annoying young people'. Try and fight it as I might, the idea of going for a nice meal where a large amount of sitting down will be required is far more appealing. I am not yet at the stage where I think a trip to B & Q is fun but I am not far off.

The first band I saw was an up and coming indie band, who I shall refer to as the Tragically Hip. The average age of gig goers appeared to be about 19. The gig was loud, dark and crowded. Not long after I arrived I was stuck to the floor with stale beer. I say dark, though when the band came on stage, their lighting technician appeared to be doing his best to blind the audience, maybe this was to blind us to their performance. Whilst I can't say they were bad, the way they threw themselves about the stage, no doubt 'feeling the music', seemed a little contrived. It was all testosterone and attitude, which of course was a unresistable mix to the throngs to teenage girls jumping, giggling and fawning in the audience. Personally I found their charms very resistable and spent most of their set looking for somewhere clean to sit whilst trying not to breath in the soup of airbourne hormones lest it kicked off another puberty. It seemed to me that the aim of their performance was to make as much noise as possible, whilst pulling the most ridiculous faces possible. It was quanity of noise rather than quality of it.

Ten Observations for Star Fleet Captains (based on a back to back perusal of Star Trek: Voyager)

1. When in a battle situation/stuck in a spatial anomaly, the first thing to go offline will always be the warp engines, closely followed by the impulse ones and about half the time the thrusters too.

2. A tachyon pulse/burst/stream is the answer to pretty much everything from scanning for aliens to breaking free from spatial anomalies.

3. If someone is about die/seriously injured or in mortal danger on the planet’s surface, there will always be interference and the transporters won’t work.

4. The holodeck will cause lots and lots of death.

5. The shields will only ever hold for roughly 4 shots from the enemy. BOOM! “Shields at 84%” BOOM! “Shields at 60%” BOOM! “Shields at 23%” BOOM! “We’re fucked”.

The Musings of a Sleep Talking Baz

As some of you may know, Baz is a natural born sleep talker (and occasional sleep walker). You've probably heard how when we first got together he'd sit in bed staring at me, telling me "It wasn't going to work" or the time I found him searching under the bed "looking for the Foo Fighters".

So inspired by I decided it's about time I kept a record too.

15th Jan 2010

"We're not really dedicated. We're like the filthy offspring. We're Mongoloid"

"Poo on his hands"

Weddings....What's Love Got To Do With It (Sod All From What I Can See)

There's a programme on BBC3 on Tuesdays that has stoked my ire. The progrmme in question is called 'Don't tell the Bride'. The premise of the programme is that a well meaning if sometimes misguided Groom plans the whole wedding in 3 weeks for a (usually) demanding wedding obsessed Bride.

I'm not a fan of the big wedding, as many know. And people usually interpret this as me being anti-marriage which on the whole I am not. It annoys me immensely that these bridezillas truly believe that the colour of the bridemaids dresses or the invitations are the most important thing in the world. Really? Is it some indicator of future happiness I am unaware of? Call me naive but surely the way a man treats you or respects you is a better measure of future happiness that the ribbon on the invitation being the same colour as the cake.

I Hate Going To The Cinema

I have frequented the cinema quite a few times recently and it's reminded me of how much I fucking hate it. Don't get me wrong, I love the experience of watching films on the big screen, but the rest of the experience is bloody awful.

Let's start with the price. It's robbery in any light, day or otherwise. I also despise people kicking the back of my chair, accidental or otherwise. They is no redemption for these people they are going straight to hell.

Then there's people arriving late. It niggles me we people arrive when the previews are showing but arriving after the film has started really pisses me off. There should be a row of really uncomfortable stools by the door where these people have to sit. As the film started last night 2 girls came in, stood in the isle next to me, blocking my view of the left side of the screen, pondering where to sit like it was a difficult algebra equation. These annoying latecomers shouldn't be allowed the disrupt the film for those of us who have the decency to arrive on time.

10 Signs A Geek Is In Love With You

1. You have your own login on his computer.

2. Instead of lovenotes you get sent xkcd links.

3. Any arguments you have are solved by Google.

4. He's milled, soldered or embossed your name into something.

5. You are more likely to discuss what you've seen on the internet than on TV.

6. If you say you want anything, he'll say he'll build you one.

7. He lets you blog on his website (ahem).

8. He's drawn a comic strip starring you.

9. You've been converted to Linux.

10. All your base are belong to him.

It's How I Was Raised...(What as an idiot?)

It's how I was raised...a little phrase encompassing a notion used almost as much as religion as a thinly veiled explanation of prejudicial views.

My mum wore ridiculously high heels all through my childhood. She's suffering for it now. I told her she would. I wear sensible M&S shoes and my feet are just fine. I don't try and stuff my essentially rombus ended feet into triangular ended shoes because quite frankly it's ridiculous. My Dad smoked 80 a day for most of his life and now wheezes and coughs to pass the time.

Great parent eh? Well Yes. Aside from the shoes and a sometimes dodgy dress sense my mother taught me to regard people of all colours, sexes and sexualities equally. Aside from the smoking by father taught me the importance of learning, of questioning and understanding.

The Manchester Congestion Charge - My 5 Quid’s Worth

Well everyone else has had a whinge. Now its my turn.

So, if we vote yes, we'll get £3 billion pound investment, more trams, more buses, better service and we'll live in a utopian public transport paradise - will we balls! GM Transport managed to spend £250,000 installing a bus stop in Eccles, yes a, one, singular. At that rate we'll get fuck all. If we do vote yes, I predict at least half of the money will go on red tape and senior management bounses.

I get to work by bus and I am voting no. There's just some annoying things about bus travel that the plan doesn't cover like, how to stop people being fucking idiots and gathering around the door at the front of the bus when there are loads of seats and making it difficult for everyone to get off. Or how to stop people which colds and germs coughing and spluttering all over you. Another thing - smelly people - I'd be more inclined to vote yes if the unwashed weren't allowed on.

The X Factor - That's entertainment?

Being away from the usual abode on Saturday night, I was forced to watch the X Factor. Actually thats wrong - I was forced to endure the X Factor. What a big pile of poo.

As I never watch it I thought maybe I had judged too quickly, maybe they were great singers, maybe here was the new Tina Turner or Freddie no. Slightly above average pub singers. So here's what I thought of them.

The Jamelia-a-like - Probably the best one cos I can't remember anything about her. Bland.

The Spanish one - Her body was the different shade of orange to her face.

The Baby Headed one - Surely he's not a man but some giant mutant baby? If you see him run away lest the mother appears.

Life Through a Digital Camera Lens

Whilst at a recent gig it suddenly struck me just how attached the 'yoof' of today are to their camera phones and digital cameras. In fact, it truly concerns me that a whole generation is missing out on living in the moment purely so that can 'capture' that perfect moment and upload it to facebook. It seems that human memory of an event is no longer sufficient and only the pictures stored on the memory card will do.

A group of youngsters in front of me seemed more concerned about getting pictures of themselves enjoying the gig, rather than actually just enjoying the gig! I must admit this did niggle me. Especially when they thrust a digital camera into my face in the middle of my favourite song and asked to take the regulatory group shot.

The Untapped (and Open) Source of Great Men

It seems to me there's lots of women outthere trying to find the perfect man and whinging because he does not exist. I can't help but think these women are looking in the wrong places. So I am here to promote and stand up for the greatest untapped source of good men - geeks.

As lots of you know I have my geek. I love him very much and I don't think anyone could have made me happier. I've never really understood why women are attracted to 'bad boys'. For some women it seems sexy = acting like a knob, not for me. I like nice men.

So why geeks? Well first and foremost they'll be so grateful you've taken an interest that they will treat you like a queen. If he says he'll call at 8, he'll call at 8. Afterall it's in his PDA with an alarm reminder.

Pimp My Ride UK - Make It So

One could blog about the ridiculousness of Pimp My Ride UK indefinitely - the strange hair dos of the mechanics, the bad acting, Westwood - but seeing as the good lady wife has already had a bash at this (Bazmond's Blog) I'd like to suggest ideas how to improve the show rather than ridicule it.

At the beginning of every episode Westwood states how he is going to "pimp UK style" but they're not are they? They are just aping the American style which we have neither the flare nor the enthusiasm to pull off. We should embrace our britishness, and here's how.

Uefa Cup Final – They Came, They Saw, They Shit All Over Our City

So the match was lost, an army sized force is needed to clean up the city and a Zenit St Petersburg fan was stabbed. In the immortal words of Arnold J Rimmer – well I can’t say I’m surprised.

I admit I don’t like football, I agree with my boyfriend who states that football is so popular because its simplicity means the lowest common denominator can understand it. Clearly the type of denominator that will stab someone when their team loses. I really do try to have an open mind about football but time and time again I original feelings about it are proved correct.

Take the litter. One could be forgiven when getting off the bus this morning that you had arrived at the gates off a rubbish tip, not Manchester city centre. It was totally disgusting and due to the amount of beer spilt on the now extremely sticky Market Street, I fear resembled the T1000 when exposed to liquid nitrogen whilst I walked to work.

Time for a Change

I’m tired, my feet hurt and I’m in work. I need some magic medicine. In my case it’s sausage butties. Nothing else can get me out of my doldrums and get me through the day. So butty and fruit juice in hand (well we all have to make some concessions to health) I head to the till and pay with a crisp tenner, freshly out of the coinshitter (for all those Charlie Brooker readers) and in doing so clean the poor canteen lady out of all of her £1s and 50ps. In my current place of work the canteen staff never complain when you pay with notes, something of a novelty, but it just adds to my guilt when I leave them changeless.

Eau de Z-list

Celebrity perfumes really get up my nose.

I read something the other day about how Kate Moss was keen to create a 'signature scent'. Do they really think we are dumb enough to believe that Kate Moss is sat in a lab adding a smidge of lavendar and a pinch of musk to her lovingly created concoction? The most she probably does is have a quick whiff before it's shipped out to the shops. If the perfume makers were creating her true smell, it would probably smell of shampoo, lenor and the inevitable stale fags and booze - nice.

But its not about the smell at end of the day is it? Put Kate Moss's face on anything and it's likely to sell - expect the Kate Moss urinal later this year. Though why Jade Goody's perfume sold so well is still beyond me.

The Cult of the Stupid Pretty Girl

We all have favourite things, I love books. In fact it verges on the obsessive. I get a thrill when I enter a bookshop which I suspect other women get in shoe shops. I rearrange my furniture in the hope of finding space for another bookshelf. Books are quite frankly brilliant and can take you anywhere and let you do anything. This year alone I've travelled to another world in search of a fallen star, journeyed into untapped realms of the mind, delved into quantum physics, walked the mean streets with a private dectective and had an adventure with a scarecrow. Yes, all this from a book!

Tea Dance at the Trafford Centre

Met my mate at the Trafford Centre last night, and while I was waiting I was watching the OAPs at the tea dance that is hosted there every Tuesday. I think it's great - kudos to them for getting out there and keeping active (we could all take a leaf out of their books!). My new hero is the old gal in the yellow top dancing by herself, doing her own moves in her own little world. She was brilliant, dancing her socks off and not giving a toss who was looking.

Whilst I was watching them, there were a few teenagers watching to and I am afriad to say laughing. Bunch of small minded pricks. I've never really been a stout believer in respecting someone just because they have managed to live a long time but rather I believe they should earn respect on how they have lived their life, and getting out there and having a good time when others your age for starting to give up cetainly wins my respect. What's to laugh at? I'd like to ask these teenagers. The dancing? The fact that they are old? Laughing at someone because they are old is as bad as laughing at someone because of their colour or sexual orientation. What makes me laugh is the teenagers doing the laughing will be old themselves one day!

Why will they not tell me what I want to know?

I've had it up to the proverbial here with the responses I have been getting from large companies recently. They never answer the bloody question that you have emailed them! "try the helpful FAQs on our website" they proclaim. The aforementioned FAQs are about as helpful as a rotweiler waitress with a migraine.

This all started when I emailed the DVLA to ask if I could tax my car if my registration document and insurance certificate had different addresses. I think even the simplest of you out there will agreed this is a 'yes' or 'no' question. What did I get? 4 paragraphs of absolute rubbish - 1 telling me how to declare my car SORN, another about the penalities of having no tax and 2 others of irrelevant rubbish. So obviously copy pasted from the 'use these if the word tax is mentioned' file.


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