Thursday, 26 November 2009

Quote of the Day

It seems London is burning… AGAIN! Last night a fire struck a housing estate in Peckham. Low and behold it's all over the London news this morning (the story that is.) So far reports are saying there are no fatalities, which is a good thing. It seems the fire is being dubbed "The Great Fire on London 2009". How a fire can be great, I'll never know!

But what I really loved about this article in particular was the quote from one of the residents. Lucy Pope whoever you are, you have won my quote of the day competition (which I just invented.)

“People are scared, they are standing in bus shelters and there are babies who have been woken up.”

Babies who have been woken up! OMG this is a real tragedy of epic proportions!!!

Also in other news that is completely unrelated to the fire in Peckham or babies being woken up by concerned parents who thought a woken baby is better than a burnt baby. (Although Lucy would beg to differ…)

I would like to send out a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to one of the most important people in my life. Words will never be enough to express who much you mean to me. Happy Birthday Kelton! I feel the same way about you as a fat kid feels about cake. xx

Wednesday, 25 November 2009

Anywhere is... ie, NOT HERE!

I really need to vent. I’m not going to go into details as to why I need to vent but trust me when I say this; if I don’t vent soon, someone and most probably someone who doesn’t deserve it, will become the helpless victim of an obscene amount of verbal abuse.

When my brother was born, my step father’s mother came and stayed with us while mum was in hospital. Before mum went away for the longest 4 days of my life, she bought me an Enya CD and told me to play it every time the evil cow wound me up. Not that I have a problem with controlling my temper, more that my mum knew if I got to breaking point, I was more than capable of slipping a little something in her tea and tying her to a chair for the remainder of her stay.

So today while I stomp my feet, pull my hair, have a cry and all in all, throw my toys out of the cot, I would like to share with you a song that seems to calm me down and take me to a place where nothing really matters. Please enjoy this video of Enya’s Anywhere Is.

Saturday, 21 November 2009

She wrote a song... For You!

Does anyone have Simon Cowell's number? I think I have just found the next Whitney Huston!

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

Investment Banking: It’s a bit like Lego

The other night at the pub I got a very interesting lesson in the art of Investment Banking. I thought I would share it with you.

Investment Banking is like Lego. In a Lego set you have 5 or 6 different colours and lots of different size blocks made out of those colours. Each of those colours represents a product and each different sized block within that colour represents… something else. I can’t remember what he said; I think Girls Aloud came on so I stopped to have a bit of a dance.

But anyway, so you have all these different blocks made out of different colors that can be rearranged into a magnitude of different things. But the fundamentals of all structures are the same… just constructed in different ways.

On Friday night, while nursing not one but two glasses of wine I found this analogy fascinating. So on Saturday morning after my trip to KFC I figured I would try and expand on what was explained to me. This is what I came up with.

The world economy is like a Lego village, you have the town part and the houses/suburb part. The economic down turn is when you’ve run out of blocks. All construction stops and all the Lego Men loose their jobs. Mum won’t buy you more blocks and feed a false village, so you have no choice but to evict your Lego men and make them all live together in a small one bedroom flat on the wrong side of the village. You use the blocks from their now empty houses to expand the town. This is called 'Repossession' and 'Public Sector Spending'.

Now all of this could have been avoided. The Lego village was working just dandy until the neighbour came over to the play. The motto to the story is quite a simple one. Don’t let your children, who are the master craftsman of such a complex system, play with kids called Gordon.

Sunday, 8 November 2009

It's Friday mum.. Get your boobs out!

Mum and I e-mail each other and occasionally she’ll remind me of things that make me very home sick. The Friday Song is one of these things.

When I was growing up and living in a small dead-end coastal town, every Friday morning the local radio station would play a song called the Friday Song. It’s a good ol’ wholesome family tune to get you in the weekend spirit. Every Friday I would wake up at the crack of dawn to listen to the song. I would sing along while dancing around the kitchen table. My grandparents used to live down the road from us. Naturally they listened to the song too. Still to this day, when I go home and see my Grandparents I force myself out of bed on Friday mornings just so I can sit at the kitchen table with my porridge and sing along until my granddad yells at me for being too cheery, too early.

I had told Justin about this song and how I longed to be able to hear it over here on Friday mornings. So he suggested I e-mail the station and ask them for a copy. SO I DID!

The response I got was not quite what I was expecting. Let’s just say the song attached wasn’t the wholesome family song I remembered.

I responded with this:

Hi there

Many thanks for the song, however I think you're attached the wrong one.

As much as this song gave me and my South African boyfriend a laugh and truly made our day, it is not "The Friday" song. My boyfriend is now wondering what mothers are like in Australia. I assured him that most mothers do not drink themselves into sin and get there boobs out while weeing in the gutter. You’ve given the poor boy high expectations that my mother could never live up too.

Please may I have the Friday song? Although maybe you should start playing “Ma with her boobs out,” on a Friday morning. I know it would make my granddad smile while eating his porridge.

Let it be known that "ma with her boobs out" is now stored on my ipod for future enjoyment.

Guess you made a bit of a tits up there (excuse the pun BUT I COULDN'T resist!)

Needless to say once I had received the correct song and played it to Justin, the first thing he said was, “Play the boobs one again!

Friday Song or is this the Friday Song?

Thursday, 5 November 2009

How to: Open a bottle of wine... in style!

Now we all know that youtube is full of people showing us “How to do” things. Between the makeup artists, chefs, shirt folders and everything else, it’s very easy to become lost and complacent. But some people on youtube really can teach you something that could one day come in handy.

Straight from land WTF, give the man a round of applause!

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

City Girl

‘City Girl’ is a title given to the women who work in the financial sector, us young ladies who work our butts off in an often sexist work place. ‘City Girl’ was once a badge that I wore with pride. Once upon a time, to say you were a 'City Girl' it meant that you were strong, capable and ready to fight. There is no point lying about it or tip toeing around the subject. To be a female in the financial industry, regardless of the role you play, you need to grow a pair to survive.

But it seems the term is being thrown around like a loose cannon these days and instead of being associated with head strong women, it’s being associated with airheads of the materialistic variety. It really winds me up that females are not taken seriously. Here is the city is a great example of this. This website is one of the most widely read amongst the city folk and yet it publishes articles like this. A City Girl’s Wish List. How is this article remotely related to the market or what’s going on in the world? Why is such dribble like this on a website that everyone reads? Now I’m not saying that it’s all about burning our bras and dressing like frumps. It’s more the fact that this website seems to advertise that women in the city are nothing more than materialistic sex symbols that float around the office to appease the wondering eye. If I read ‘Sexed-up-secretary’ or anything remotely like it one more time, please don’t hold me accountable for my actions.

This article really upset me. I don’t want this label or to be affiliated with it in any way. Yes I like the nice things in life but Friday afternoon treats? WHO DOES THAT? I don’t like the way this 'City Girl' brags about her shopping conquests and puts women who work in other industries down. I don’t own an emerald ring from Tiffany, I don’t know who Les Nereides is, nor do I waste my money on a purse every week. I can tell you what I do have though; I have no debt, no guilt, lovely bi-annual holidays, a trip to Selfridges once every couple of months and to top it all off I have confidence. I know that I will never drop to that level and become the materialistic airhead. I also believe that maybe (just maybe) if I stick to my guns on this one, my brains will pull me through as opposed to a low cut top and 6inch heels. It’s called self respect City Girl, you should give it a try some time.