Growing old is nothing to be scared of...

unless, it would appear you are a naturally attractive celeb who wants to freeze time, quite literally, with Botox. I simply do not get it.

I was re-watching a TV Christmas Special featuring the lovely Kylie Minogue this evening and as she warbled, in her distinctive Aussie-tinged voice, a happy Christmas ditty it struck me that it really was only her mouth that was moving in her face - the rest of it was frozen and it was wrong.

Teri Hatcher is another victim of this error in judgement - she is a beautiful woman who has had a great acting career, but now she can't really 'do' emotion, because her face simply doesn't respond... it does not look 'young' it just looks 'odd'.

Take a look at the gallery of faces that come up if you Google 'celeb botox before & after' and then consider the weird similarities that appear in the faces of the overly-botoxed... feline-slanting eyes, sometimes with an 'off' eye brow line, shiny foreheads, glossy cheeks and a total lack of any character or emotion being displayed by their facial features...except of course those wrinkles that show up on the side of the noses of botoxed celebs when they smile, these have even been given their own name 'bunny wrinkles' and I refer to you Renee Z and Nicole K.

Even those who are relatively young apparently befall this homogenisation of features - Megan Fox is 25 for goodness sake and shows up in these botox galleries, showing all the signs of injecting a form of botulism into her face – although she does also refute this claim, she is 25 FFS, I ask you?! 

Then you have the Katie Price / Jordan factor and frankly, it's just out of control. 

It is all a bit "Midwich Cuckoos" or "Stepford Wives" for my liking I can tell you.

The real question is what feeds this desire to freeze time by freezing your face? The world of the celeb must be a scary place - you need to be constantly gorgeous. God help you if you leave the house sans-slap, have a bad hair day or show a snippet of cellulite on the beach, because you will be photographed and it will appear in any number of red top papers and glossy mags - sometimes blown up and ringed just to make sure the readers get the point that being a normal human being is wrong!

Celebs are not 'allowed' to grow old, their mask of gorgeousness is not allowed to slip. We are fed this message constantly in the magazines that we spend our money on, we lap it up and it is big business. So what choice do these celebs have but to put it all 'on hold' quite literally?

Well, they could just say ‘sod it take your photos and to hell with you’ but (sadly) in the youth obsessed culture in which our film and music stars exist, this could have huge implications for their bank balances…

We (and I use the term lightly with reference to my own media purchases) could stop buying into this message, stop buying the mags that tout this obsession, stop looking at the pictures on-line… Just stop! But (sadly) this is not likely either and the media moguls know it.

The sad truth is that this message will go on – it is too big a business for too many people for it to stop. The public are too hooked on the idea of celebs being picture perfect at all times for it to stop. The celebs themselves, perhaps, are too hooked on looking ‘young’ for it to stop.

There are some battles you just can’t win in life – this is one of those for me. I think it is wrong. I think it is unhealthy. I think it is immoral and I think it is cruel in many ways, but I won’t lose sleep over it – that does cause wrinkles and I don’t want any of those, now do I?

Trolley cases on the streets should be banned

I have recently noticed an alarming proliferation in the attack of the trolley-cases.

Now, don’t get me wrong, a trolley-case has its benefits and in the right environment is an asset to the puller-alonger. No group of cabin crew parading through an airport would be complete without these accessories, but a busy street full of pedestrians is not the right environment. Especially when these cases are almost invariably pulled slightly to the side of the pedestrian-owner, thereby making their pavement requirement bigger …

There is something of an unspoken, but ongoing, mobile stand-off between the normal bi-pedal pedestrian and one armed with this pulled appendage – who will give way first?

Will the unarmed pedestrian alter their course to make way for the advancing threat of the two wheeled, extended handled trolley-case pulled along by the ‘very important can’t you see how much stuff I have to carry’ business person or the ‘I’ve been to far flung shores and all I took was this capsule wardrobe’ seasoned traveller?

Today in London on the short walk between Kings Cross and Euston railway stations, I found myself facing what seemed like hoards of these damn cases – some pulled by smart suited corporate types, many pulled by errant tourists.

Now London is a nightmare to walk around at the best of times unless you are happy to potter along at tourist pace or simply barge through the throng ‘a la’ the seasoned London commuter – but when the trolley-case is thrown into the mix (along with the everyday hazards of bicycles and pushchairs) the nightmare becomes an epic, fraught with the danger of crushed toes and/or bashed shins – so today I took a stand (or more accurately a walk) not to give way to these pavement menaces.

At one point, when in an imminent stand-off situation with a female corporate trolley-case puller, where there was one stretch of pavement available between us, a railing and an Evening Standard kiosk, it took nerves of steel to hold her off – but then I am made of stern stuff. She glared at me, I smiled back cheerfully said ‘thank you’ and pushed on past with gleeful purpose… I felt her loathing for me as I went by but I worried not. 

A tourist pulling a Burberry patterned variety of trolley-case was next, I wanted to bear right as I crossed the road, the tourist was coming across the road on a diagonal collision course with me. Again I smiled and kept walking in a straight line, again the trolley-case was defeated… 

I found this 'walk-and-smile' tactic works in general - although in London I am probably viewed as best avoided anyway, given I am smiling randomly as I walk along :-)

I do realise this is all rather petty of me, but it kept me entertained on my walk to the train today and stopped me getting aggravated at the general annoyance of trying to walk on our capitals streets. No wonder there is a 'limo-lifestyle' for those who can afford it, you might get stuck in traffic but your Louboutins won't be damaged by a toe-vs-trolley-case incident on your way to the Ivy.

The upshot of all of this is that, along with my thoughts on umbrellas on crowded streets, I have decided that commuting in the classic sense is a dangerous undertaking, so far fewer people should do it allowing me to get to work safely… There you go David Cameron, another reason to increase the number of people out of work – commuting for those left with jobs would be safer and you might just also save the NHS (or what’s left of it) some cash too…

Everyone has an egg timer with their name on it...

...just ask Terry Pratchett! I am a great believer in fate and for those of you who do not read Terry Pratchett's Discworld books, the egg timer referenced in the title of this blog will mean very little, but is symbolic of my view that whilst you have every opportunity to make the most of your time on this planet of ours, that time is measured and when it runs out, there is not an awful lot you can do about it.

On Discworld, DEATH has a room full of egg timers, each with a name on it and when the sand runs out in any one of those devices, HE is waiting...

The events of recent days, with the Costa Concordia that is making global news and the myriad local news stories that will have been part of your lives wherever you read this, support the view that when your time is up, it's up. 

Every day people survive events other people die in - be they of natures making in tsunamis or avalanches or man made in terrorist attacks, car crashes or cruise ships sinking - and those survivors are left asking "why?” Some people survive medical conditions to defy the doctors or walk away from a snapping bungee cord, why? because it was not their time to die. Their egg timer still had sand in it.

Whether you choose to believe it is a higher being making these life and death decisions, a random set of events that create the opportunity for death to step in, or your egg timer running out of sand, is entirely up to you. 

I believe that accepting the end will come gives you the opportunity to make the most of the time you have.

That need not be in a humanity-saving, global news-worthy way - just by being the best human being you can be, you make your presence on this planet a positive one. When a colleague is having a bad day, make them a cuppa, next time you catch someone’s eye randomly in the street, give them a smile - after all you never know when your egg timer will run out of sand, so you might as well finish up with a smile on your face if you possibly can :-)

Take your weather with you...

Crowded House sang about it and in these days of January Blues I thought I would share a life lesson I learnt a few years back - there is only one person responsible for your reaction to any life event and that is yourself. 

You make your own 'weather' so "Always take the weather with you" and make it a sunny day!

Simple eh?... No, OK well think of it this way;

When did you last say / think / rant(!) "Oh I can't stand XXX anymore he/she/it drives me mad!"

Now consider - who is it getting "mad"? It is you and only you, so simply decide not to get "mad" next time he/she/it behaves in that way or does that thing - decide on another reaction and carry it out. Make it sunny, rather than cloudy. Honestly you'll be amazed at the results.

I know you're probably thinking 'yaddy yaddy yadda" - "whatever" - "self help mumbo jumbo!" and such like and (to be honest) I did too, until I tried it.

At the time I had a boss I (quite literally) hated - and that's a pretty strong emotion to be dealing with for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week - it was exhausting and eventually made me ill. 

A very wise (and coincidentally very rich) man who was linked to the company I worked for said to me "own your own reactions, don't let yourself get so wound up, try a different tack". 

"Ha!" thought I, "you know nothing old man"... but then I pondered - who was it being made ill by it all? Me. Who was it using up their emotion and living with all that stress? Me. What was I getting out of this situation? Lots of migraines and a very grumpy working life. Did I want to go on like this? No.

So next time I felt my stress levels rising at the presence of my boss, I made myself respond differently - I smiled at him, I acquiesced to his request for whatever it was and I did it - even though I still thought what he had asked me to do was wrong, I decided "he's the boss, his decision". He knew how I felt and my thoughts, he had decided differently - so what? his neck on the block, not mine.

There is another saying "if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got", so try to change what you do and I'm pretty sure you'll get something different as a result... and hopefully it will be better.

Once you've tried it you'll never go back - I still get wound-up, I still get cross, occasionally violence springs to mind as a viable reaction (!) but (honestly) I choose when something's worth the argument, I decide when to take on the fight and - more importantly - I decide when not to.

"Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal to throw at someone else - you are the only one sure to be burnt"

Seriously? Have you heard yourselves?

This has been some week for our esteemed political leaders from all parties to show just how antiquated and out of touch with reality and the world we, the normal people, live in they are (BTW, what is 'normal'?.. probably a rant for another day) : 

Diane Abbott caused offence by tweeting about white people loving to play divide and rule - not aware of the rules of that game myself, am I missing something Diane? Oh, sorry, you linked it 'colonialism' didn't you, and then said it was taken out of context... Hang on - you put it in the context, on your own twitter feed, so who exactly is to blame for this one?... Hmmmmmm

David Cameron described heckling by Ed Balls as "like having someone with Tourette's sitting opposite you" - because you would use that analogy wouldn't you? Oh, no? you wouldn't?? Right, no, nor would I actually.

Mr Cameron was describing Prime Ministers Question time in a newspaper interview - you know, that televised and heavily orchestrated event that takes place each week in which the Government and opposition ask pre-agreed questions of the Prime Minister to try to show the nation just how good or bad the Government is... Really Mr Cameron, if you don't know how it works yet, maybe you should reconsider your career?

Ed Miliband of course could not even get a tribute to Bob Holness right - it was "Blockbusters" Ed, not "Blackbusters" – I dread to think what Diane Abbott thought of that gaff...

So what lessons can politicians learn from this? 

Firstly, they should stop tweeting - simple as that, because clearly when not constrained by their parties media and communications teams vetting their every word, they cannot be trusted.

Secondly, they should stick to the script. I am betting that Mr Cameron knew the questions he would be asked by the journalist who interviewed him for the Sunday Telegraph and I am betting he had help in devising answers too - but then he decided to ad lib and add a hint of (inappropriate) jocularity into proceddings and it all went wrong...

Finally, they should learn that in a time when those of us working for both public and privately owned organisations do so within bounds of common decency and respect for our colleagues and the wider community, we expect the same from our politicians. If they fail to live up to that expectation, they should face the same disciplinary measures as we would plus a damn good metaphorical thrashing from the press - after-all, they chose to do the job they do and the consequences of getting it wrong.

Sorry Jessie Jackson – but you’re wrong...

Today the two men convicted of the murder of Stephen Lawrence have been sentenced.

This is something of a victory for both the Lawrence family, who have seen a degree of justice at last for the loss of Stephen 18 years ago and also for the Metropolitan Police who have finally delivered some justice in this case.

So for Jesse Jackson, on a visit to the Occupy group based near St Pauls Cathedral, to say that the length of the prison sentences given out "cheapens black life" is simply not helpful, or (to my mind) relevant. According to reports he added that "justice delayed is justice denied".

The sentences given out were the longest the judge could give. Mrs Doreen Lawrence, acting with her ongoing grace and dignity, recognised that fact and thanked the judge for what he had done. Everyone knows this has taken too long and been down too many blind legal alleys in the last 18 years. This is nothing new - Jesse Jackson comes in with his two penn’oth worth and adds what? Only more angst to an already terribly sad set of circumstances ...

The sentences do not cheapen any life – they are what they are and all that they can be.

Some people never achieve justice for the crimes committed against them or their family members, but we don’t hear about them in the same way we have heard about Stephen. This is not a good thing, but it is the truth.

So Jesse Jackson, go back to the USA and sort out the justice system for people – all people black or white – there. Look at what goes on in New York or Washington DC or any other US city in terms of fair and equal justice for the communities there. Fix that, then come back and tell us how we can make it better, don’t just throw negatives out there for the sake of column inches.

The UK is not perfect but every reasonable person recognises that the travesty of justice that was the Stephen Lawrence case has been learned from. To deny that cheapens what the Lawrence family and all their supporters have achieved.

Rhianna has a lot to answer for...

People of the West Midlands (and probably other places too) please be aware that in windy conditions where precipitation is also present, umbrellas are not advisable.
The normal umbrella-on-a-crowded-street scenario where heads in general and eyes in particular are at risk of being damaged by wayward umbrella spikes is made more dangerous by the tendencies of these devices to develop a mind of their own in windy conditions. And this is not helped by the seemingly mainly incompetent humans carrying the damn things...
I can only presume that these people feel the umbrella adds something of 'Rhianna' to their look for the day at the office - they are wrong.
Seriously people - your hair do is not worth the costs to the NHS and you ain't no Rhianna - wear a hat!

Had better days, but the party was worth it!

Oh dear - 2012 has started with me spending much of it's first day unable to move far from a bathroom...
The plan for New Years Eve was to go to Birmingham and spend the evening with family and friends, but alas no Mr D as he was working (boo hiss). It passed off well - the music played, the wine flowed and the dancing got worse as the evening got later. Midnight was 'bonged' in by Big Ben and we sang auld lang syne with gusto. All-in-all a good show. Then we got to my big brov's house and opened the port - it seemed like a good idea at the time!
On first waking this morning I thought I'd got away with it - just a bit of a sore head. I got up, had some water went back to bed.
Second awakening was less successful and entailed a chat with God on the big white telephone - it was to be an ongoing conversation throughout the day.


The plan for today was less of a success... I was supposed to get dropped at a train station and then wend my way home courtesy of my train pass. 
Didn't happen.
Eventually I gave up all thought of coping with train travel and sent Mr D a text requesting a collection service. Big Brov took me to Hopwood Services on the M42 (with just a short stop to talk to god at the roadside and a very quick exit at the services - my sincere apologies to the people who walked past me conversing with god yet again, but for the last time) and Mr D brought me home. He is a true hero :-)
A Geophizz Bath Bomb from Lush and an isotonic drink set me up for jama's and a quilt on the sofa - welcome to 2012!!