Well, I imagine youre all busily finishing off work and trying to go home, or gone home, or dont read this anymore. But if anyones out there, I thought Id have another Question and Annas session, Like this one here, which was, in turn, an idea poached from a few of my favourite blogs.
Anyone got a question? Ill start answering them when I have woken from my nap. Unless there arent any, in which case I wont. Crack on. Or, you know, not. No pressure.
Hokay. Its half fourish. I completely failed in napping. But here we go all the same
You can find questions and answers after the jump.
Whats your most embarrassing moment?
You know, youd think Id have an answer to this, wouldnt you? Its just one of *those* questions that always get asked, and having spent a considerable amount of time in secondary school – mainly in maths and science classes, to be fair – forward planning for the day Id be a famous lawyer/writer/actress/musician (bass player in a band, no less. I couldnt then play the bass – Im not sure where that was going to come in). We would sit there, Alice and I, making up fan magazine/newspaper questionnaires for each other and filling them in, then complimenting each other on being clever and witty interviewees.
So youd think Id have thought in depth about my Most Embarrasing moment, therefore, it being a very common question on these things. But now I cant think of a thing, apart from that memory.
Which, now I think about it – might well be it. I cant think of anything else.
Well, I mean, I may have wet myself once from laughing far too hard – but I was very, very drunk at the time, so that probably doesnt count.
How many times can a person fall in love before they have to stop and re-examine how they define love?
Blimey thats a big one. I was expecting things more along the lines of hows the packing going?, but alright.
Ah John. John John John. Thats a very difficult question. But after deep consideration, I would say 178. 178 times.
Or 41 if youre a less enthusiastic type.
I think you have to be able to tell a crush from a falling in love. I think you have to realise that having a crush is just as valid a thing, and that you dont always have to visit the most extreme emotion you can get your hands on just to make it valid. You can just be happy for a while before having to name the thing that you are in. It works just as well, honest.
I think that its important to have people in the world who are puppyish and overexcited about the concept of love as it is people who are cynical and hard to convince.
But I think those people, as they age, balance out, and the cynical are thrown into love and the puppyish learn not to tumble before they are sure.
I think 178, possibly. Sometimes 41.
John, this is everyone, everyone, this is John, I went out with him for a while. Hes very nice, and, by the sounds of it, single, so if I have any Northern readers who would like a go, please drop me your email and Ill pass it on.
Also, if any one has any more sensible answer to his question, Im sure that would be gratefully recieved (comments box?)
Ooh, its gone five already. Good thing Im home already. Whos next?
Do you know the dance to the funky gibbon?
Hm. I have to wonder – are you asking because you want to know, or because you are testing me? Hm? It is a quandary.
Well in either case I the answers no, anyway.
Whoopses, I went to pack and forgot what I was doing. Right, sorry.
Why am I reading your blog (and others) instead of revising for my imminent exams?
Isnt that what blogs are for?
I dont care *who* says theyre a representative of the new brands of citizen media, flagging up trends in social interaction and indicating the likely movement or trends in political and societal movement months ahead of the tradition forms of media, thats bollocks. Theyre a diversionary tactic.
I become a prolific blogger AND reader of blogs when theres something else I should be doing.
And isnt funny? Now, having said Im supposed to be blogging, I now keep wandering off and packing
Who put the ram in the ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong? And did it survive the experience?
Good lord. That sounds either really violent, or really dirty. But then, I always thought ratatouille sounded inappropriately dodgy until I found out it Was actually a kind of animal porn rather than a foodstuff like everyone had been trying to tell me it was all these years.
So what IS a ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong? Well, if I remember the event correctly, it was a type of jamboree popular in the ninteen fifties and sixties, in which young people would gather in secret venues and stage fights between gangs of baby sheep (the Lambs) and gangs of computer memory cards (The RAMs) and make them fight it out.
The Lambs would usually win, because they would eat the memory cards.
But then they would usually choke, because memory cards are spikey.
So the gangs of baby sheep would die, the victory would be rewarded in the favour of the RAMs, and everyone would celebrate with a shepherds pie that they would subsequently remember for a really, really long time.
TB? TB? Good lord. I always wondered what the pseudonym Boy on Top represented, but my god, whod believe it – Tony Blair comments on my site.
Well, Tony, I imagine youre worrying about this after your dear friend and holiday home provider lost his job recently. What was his name again? Bertolli? No, thats a brand of olive oil. Whatever – very simlilar – greasy. That guy. You know who I mean.
Otherwise, I dont know. I would advise people to act like Romans anyway, generally. What with the whole having good teeth and shiny hair thing, combined with the whole ability to conquer the world thing, I think we could all learn a thing or two or nine.
Firstly: That with good teeth and shiny hair, anyone can take over the world.
Secondly: There needs to be a secondly?
To be fair, the Romans I met werent doing much taking over the world yesterday. They were mainly standing still – or better, walking very slowly – looking attractive and gormless as I tried and failed to hurry through with my case, pointlessly, fruitlessly trying to catch my train and subsequent flight.
Yes, Im still whining about my bad day yesterday.
No, I havent finished yet. Not even close.
Why dont people realise how dumb it is to ask Can I ask you a question?
Because people need to make sure theyre talking out loud. Because they like the sound of their own voice, and they like to announce themselves before saying something of great import. What? You have a blog, dont you? Its a natural human instinct. Like, you know, blogging.
Seriously, I know it *sounds* like a stupid question, and a waste of air and earwax, but really, is it that bad? Are they not just trying to be polite? I think they are.
Or maybe theyre not even talking to you – have you thought of THAT, clever boy?
Maybe theyre asking themselves a careful, soul-searching question. Who am I? What is my purpose here? What is my standing in this conversation? CAN I ask you a question?
Its a deep, deep question.
Or theyre wankers. One or tother.
Invader Stu asks:
What question should I ask you?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
Anyway. Its not you, its me. Clearly.
My new job is casual. My old job was suits.
I need to go out and buy some new clothes. However I am a bloke. My fashion sense can best be described as not entirely totally abysmal, but Im sure I never quite look cool.
What clothes should I be buying for summer. How can I look cool. I perhaps want to have some swooning going on around. Please advise.
Thanks in anticipation.
Fashion, eh? Mens fashion, at that.
Right. Well, it depends what you mean when you say your new job is casual. Does casual in this instance mean a loose shirt and smartish trousers? Or does that mean a Federal Boob Investigator t-shirt and a pair of Homer Simpson boxer shorts?
Because that might be considered inappropriate. The former, I mean. Because if youre going to wear your shirt loose – why wear a shirt at all? And if youre going to wear a shirt informally – how informal do you become? Do you bother ironing it? Is that too formal? What about wearing your trousers informally? Is the best way of doing that just to not zip them up, or do you have to go the whole hog and not shake your little man properly after going for a widdle. AND not zipping them up.
Otherwise I dont think you can go wrong.
Dont know anything about fashion, Ade, seriously I dont.
Wear a black dress. You can never go wrong with a black dress. Its classic.
[Right. Im going to bed. I finish thees in the morning]
Please tell us about your favorite shoes EVAR
Hm. This is a difficult one. Im a very bad girl.
Sorry that sounded a bit oh spank me spank me, doctor, Im a very bad girl
Erm, Converse sneakers. I had some light blue camoflage ones. Or red doll shoes. Any kind. You know, the kind with the little bar across. The Chinese slipper type of ones. They are my favourite. The velvet ones.
And yes, they have about two millimetres of matter between your foot and the floor, but I like the way they flop. And they feel ladyish.
I dont wear heels, Ive tried – in the last year Ive been going all out in my efforts to be a proper-lady-who-wears-heels-and-everything – but you know what? Its not me. I cant do it. And you know whats more? I dont really care.
Oh shit Eurovision is on. I have to go and blog it over well, Ill put a link in when Ive started.
Over here Blimey that was hard work. Why do I always set myself these impossible things to do. An eight point form for every country that I tell myself has to be simultaniously relevant, intelligent, properly spelt, current-affairs-astute and funny?
Well done, anna. Well done. Youre a frikkin genius.
I seriously am going to finish these questions, I promise. My fingers are going to fall off right now, thats all
MONDAY, SHE CARRIES ON
If youve had a really crappy crappy day – what would you buy to cheer yourself up? And would it work?
A bloody good bottle of wine. And yes, yes it would.
Take today for example.
Letting agents, letting agents, letting agents
Everything now fine.
Hows the packing going? (simple enough?)
Yeah, youd think so, wouldnt you.
No, it is quite simple.
Yes. Its fine.
There are other things around this whole moving thing that are being very stressful, but I will talk about those when all contracts are signed and I have my feet up in my little house.
The packings great though. I like putting things in boxes. Does make you realise how much rubbish you have, though. If I wasnt so busy at the moment Id be trying to auction it all off to you bunch of lovelies, but I am, so youre spared
What do you want to be when you grow up?
Hello again, Clair: I dont know.
I said that was a question someone should ask me. I didnt say I knew the answer.
What has it got in its pocketses?
I dont know.
But Im guessing with a question like that, probably something really geeky, like a small plastic figurine of Xena: Warrior Princess.
And in the other pocket, a frantically moving hand.
Well, kind of. Its probably a figurine of an elfin princess.
Does the light in the fridge go out when you shut the door?
Yes. No. I dont know. Let me go and sit in it and check.
Well apparently, it transpires that sitting in the fridge makes you a cold and b dead, so Im not going to do that anymore.
I will ask the broccoli.
The broccoli says yes.
OK. Why does blu-tack go white when its stretched? Surely its purpose on this earth is to be blue, and yet it seems to defy our expectation when any small amount of pressure is placed upon it. Am sure this is against the Trades and Descriptions Act. We should prosecute. I want blu-tack that is ALWAYS blu, regardless of its context.
Ah. This is science. I can spot science a mile off.
I think the problem here is one of perception, and also spelling. You see, you first point out that blu-tack goes white when streched. You end by issuing a heartfelt plea that blu-tack should be always blu. And yet in the middle there, you state that its purpose on this earth is to be blue (hic)
Thats where youre going wrong.
Its sole purpose in life is to be blu. Not blue, blu. No one ever said it was blue. It could be blue, white, it could change to any colour in any particular state, and it wouldnt be transgressing the trades descriptions act, because it never claimed to be Blue.
No, it is a thing called blu. Now, what does blu mean? Well Im glad you asked.
It could well be an acronym for bloody-long-undulating-tack. But it isnt. Instead, blu is an amorphic state first identified by hippy yogis and Joni Mitchell in the 1960s. It means well, that would be telling. It took a great deal of meditation and soft drugs to discover it, it wouldnt be fair for me just to blurt it out.
I give you one hint on the road to enlightenment – what can be used to stick posters up can also be packed into a pipe and lit, ifyouknowwhatimsayin.
(Im saying you could try smoking blu tack.)
(Please dont sue me)
Peter also asked:
Oh. And what should I do with my life, now Ive submitted my dissertation, and my degree has come to an end? Everyones rejecting my requests for work experience, regardless of my qualifications; and all the others demand work experience, which the former will not let me have.
A lot of friends have daddys friend from school, who are offering them something, however I do not have any such oppurtunities. Am concerned.
In retrospect, this question is probably more important than my previous one. Is dramaturgy the obvious way forward?
That is a very sucky situation to be in.
When I finished my masters, I was trying to work out if I could actually get into dramaturgy/literary management/assist directing/theatre education departments etc.
And I was having a very similar problem. Most places seemed to want you to have had up to a year of experience, paid or unpaid, in the field – and the only way to do that was work experience. And the only people who could afford to do that, unsurprisingly, were people whose parents could subsidise them through a year or more of unpaid work. Mine cant, and I wouldnt take their money if they could (and, to be fair, they probably wouldnt, even if they could – big on independence etc, thank god).
However, doing the MPhil in Dramaturgy gave me the edge I needed, and allowed me to apply for jobs feeling like I was intelligent, capable, interesting, and focussed. I may not do anything even vaguely connected now, but it wasnt pointless.
I dont know what you should do, my dove. Im a big believer in fate, and think that things will come along if they are right, and you are right for them. But thats very floaty, blu, useless advice to go around handing out.
But I cant help you, silly. What do you WANT to do? How can you possibly ask me? What the hell do I know?
John Mac asked:
Why do I always end up having to take the drunk person home, pay for the taxi, apologise to the driver when said person throws up on London Bridge, then lets them sleep in my bed while I take the sofa?
Because youre nice, John. Because youre the nice person, and sometimes the nice person ends up with sick on their knees and cushion-crinkles on their cheek.
And sometimes, the nice things you do for those drunkards now will be paid back to you by other, yet unmet, people. You can tell me I watch too much My Name is Earl (and Im not ashamed, its one of the funniest programmes I watch at the moment, I love it very, very much), but I believe in this Karma shit. You know, I do generally find that Doing nice things will return nice things to
Or not. Or entirely possibly not. If you reach a certain point and karma hasnt started paying you back, then wait until it happens again, creep into your own bedroom at silly oclock in the morning, just as theyre looking the most green, put your tuba to their rose-like ear And blow.
what shall i do with my life when my degree finishes in T minus 4 days?
Another one? Blimey, its the time of year, int it.
Poppet, I dont know. I havent got a clue. Do what you want to, do nothing. Do what you can to make a bit of money to keep you going, dont be hasty, dont be imaptient, youll end up doing what you should be doing in the end – its just the way things work.
What do you want to do?
Is it similar to what Peter wants to do?
Can you help each other out?
Does he know someone who can help you out? Do you know someone that can help him?
Things work in a funny way sometimes
Unfortunately, those funny ways dont involve me having a fucking clue.
Ive been wondering, whats the evolutionary function of humour?
Sex, Fred. Its all about the sex.
Hands up who thinks Im wrong.
I see No hands.
Sorry – falling asleep again, I really will finish this tomorrow. Honest. I only have a couple of questions left, after all
I really will finish this. Not that anyones reading this anymore.