Category: Observations

When asked who their favorite singer is or, more generally, what sort of music they like to listen to, people often claim to have a random taste. However, I struggle to find people out there with a taste as arbitrary as mine.

Mostly people sway towards a particular style of music. Garage, for example, R&B, Ska, Country – the list goes on. Of course there’s likely to be variations and odd songs that you love which don’t fit the stereotype of your choice, but the majority of the music listened to by an individual usually creates a pattern.

I also find that if people claim to like country music, then every country song that plays, they know. Every country singer around, they’ve heard of and likewise for other genres.

Personally, I find myself to be a tip of the iceberg fan. I’d say I like country. I really do and it reminds me of being in Florida last year where my friends introduced me to a wider selection than ‘The Shires’. Being in America, and the south at that, I attended my first proper country dance night at a place call Dallas Bull. As sober as I was, exhausted from the week long party I’d been having pretending to still be in college, it was great watching all the avid country fans get up on the dance floor to perform the routines that they knew off by heart.

I’d also say I’m a fan of rock, some rock anyway. I thoroughly enjoy live bands and the two I’ve seen the most of, perform mostly rock covers. From this a cluster of rock artists have seeped into my playlists as well. It’s not often, but I’ve been known to dance around my room to Muse after a drunken night at the pub or pretend that I’m an eighties rock chick and head bang to a bit of Def Leppard from time to time.

I like the old stuff, seventies, eighties, sometimes even sixties. My parents brought us up listening to things that they like. I know this because it features in all of our childhood videos, in which there’s always some music playing in the background. Occasionally also a less familiar Beatles track will come on the radio and I find that I know all the words, and that I give to my childhood.

I’m a huge fan of musicals. In fact this is one of my less random playlists because it’s titled ‘Musicals’ and contains exactly that. From Oliver to Miss Saigon and more recently Matilda, I love it all. I laugh when I’m walking to and from work, usually with my headphones in and builders will be looking at me. They probably think I’ve got the latest tunes blasting into my eardrums or, even worse, some ghastly rap when actually it’s Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Jellicle Songs For Jellicle Cats’! I even throw in a bit of classical if I’m feeling extremely whimsical.

For me it largely depends on my mood, but even then I shift between genres like a puppy would rush around a woodland full of new smells. My choices through mood make no sense either and if I’m sad I’ll search for songs that I know will make me cry, yet when I’m happy I want to lift my spirits by picking cheerful tunes. Work that out. Surely it should be the other way around if anything, shouldn’t it?

I’m guessing through reading you’re now fully aware of quite how bizarre my music taste is and when I say it’s random, that’s exactly what I mean. I like music that reminds me of places, of people and of good times. My Spotify is full of a wide selection of choices and I’d say seventy five per cent of these songs have been selected through memories. Now when I listen to them, I’m instantly taken back. It’s lovely.

The other morning I woke up and put on songs which I must have frequently listened to about ten years ago. The likes of Jay Sean and Dappy of all people. I never listen to these, I’d forgotten they were ever big. Sometimes you need to be reminded of being really young with no responsibilities whatsoever and music has that wonderful ability to take you there. At least that’s the excuse I’m using for my extremely out of character decision that day and one I shall never admit, despite doing so now on the world wide web.

Music features in my life daily without fail and I am not ashamed of how incredibly non-specific my taste is because I enjoy it all the same.

It may sound strange that it’s taken the first twenty three years of my life to figure this out but I’ve finally discovered that listening is a skill.

It’s a skill that requires an amount of practise. It’s a skill that I realised only a few months back I’ve not quite grasped so I’ve consciously been working on it in attempt to get better.

Listening is very different from hearing. You may well be able to hear quite perfectly but not actually be listening to a word that’s being said. How many times have you been talking to someone and then after the conversation has ended you’ve forgotten all that you spoke about. Or even worse, while stood there with them you realise that you’ve tuned out and it’s not until they direct a question at you that you notice how lost in conversation you are.

Working in a food shop, I’m forever taking orders then immediately forgetting what they asked for despite looking as though I took every word on board while staring blankly into their face. The phrase ‘in one ear and out the other’ couldn’t be truer in these moments and embarrassed doesn’t cover it.

We all have those we’d rather not listen to, or people who bore us endless so tuning out really isn’t that big of a deal, but I found recently that sometimes when I think I’m listening I’m not actually taking anything in.

I’ve always thought of myself as a good listener, especially to a friend in need. People close to me often ask for advice or ring up and simply want me to listen and give any pointers that I can. I’m good at that and I always revise the conversations had after when I’m on my own and I can remember close to everything that was said.

So, I’m good at listening to the important things. Well, mostly, but then nobody is perfect right? Sometimes an amount of guilt fills me when I think back to conversations that I should have remembered and can’t. Or go to ask a friend a question and they tell me I’ve already asked it five times previously. Oops. I never mean to but it’s times like these when I come to understand that my listening skills do need some refining.

Of course there are many ways to improve your listening, but I’ve found that indulging in activities that use your ears rather than your eyes helps massively. Things like tuning into the radio rather than watching mind-numbing TV. I realise I’m about to sound a lot older than I am in my next statement but I find that radio 4 is a good station to choose for this. Most shows involve a lot of conversation, quite deep discussions at that so sometimes you really have to focus if you want to hear and understand.

I also find listening to a play or audio book helps too. Sometimes it’s hard to shut your brain off and fully focus on the sounds coming from the radio. It takes me a while to do this and I really have to try.

Audio books are easier and I can usually be doing other jobs while playing one in the background, still fully aware of the story line and what’s happening. However, plays for some reason I struggle with a little more. Therefore, by listening to more of them I’ve found that I’m getting better at shutting my brain off quicker to the outside world and focusing in for an hour, understanding what’s going on through truly listening rather than only hearing.

Next time you’re having a conversation with somebody, revise it after and try to remember what was said. If you can’t then after the next conversation that you have, repeat the process and hopefully you’ll have retained a bit more information. As well as this indulge in chilling methods that involve listening and concentration like radio shows and audio books.

You’ll find as your skills improve and you become a better listener, you won’t have to speak as much and when you do you’ll find you’re a better speaker too, with only necessary words exiting your mouth.

As a nation, and a rather small one at that, we have many characteristics that are very, very British. Traits that to other countries seem ludicrous and unnecessary like the amount we seem to love queuing to the point that it could be classed as a talent. We even say to fellow queue-ers around us how hilarious it is that the Brits are always in queues. We queue at the airport, in traffic jams, sandwich shops and even the longest of bars where queues are not meant to happen.

Bizarre wastes of energy like the amount we moan. Moan about the weather, if it rains and if it shines. Too cold in the winter, far too hot as soon as the sun comes out. Moan about the price of stamps and how ridiculous it is when they increase by a few pence at a time. My gosh, how dare they? Moan in general all day. If you hear someone when you’re on holiday moaning then you can put money on them being a Brit. We moan about British people moaning and then continue to moan our days away.

Obscure ways to spend our free time like being rowdy drunks and drinking ourselves into oblivion every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Coming away from a night out with mass injuries and embarrassment beyond compare. We say we’ll never do it again but I’m yet to meet someone who’s learnt that lesson.

Men and the amount they can talk about sport. Golf I find the most strange. They sit for hours on end watching, in my humble opinion, one of the dullest sports ever. I struggle to understand football too if I’m honest. Why guys have to sit and watch entire matches when they could just flick over to see the score from time to time, that’s all you really need to know. Isn’t it?

The amount we love our pets and make them our lives. I know there is a love for cute animals worldwide, but especially in the UK do we go nuts about dogs and EVERYONE knows a crazy cat lady. Some people spend more on getting their dogs groomed each month than they do on haircuts for their offspring. I’m pretty sure some people would give up their children over their dogs if it came to that.

Finding the correct change and hating ‘all those little bits’. What’s a five pence piece ever done to you? So often do I serve customers wanting to pay for five pounds worth of goods in shrapnel and so frequently do I find myself doing the same. The satisfaction you get when you get rid of the last of your coppers leaving an empty purse, only notes. It’s one of life’s greatest feelings. Almost.

Tea has got to be mentioned because drinking the good stuff is what we do best. We drink it from the minute we wake up until it’s an acceptable time to consume something alcoholic. If you go anywhere in public before 10AM on a week day you’ll here person after person saying how little they can function without their morning cuppa. It’s true, it’s needed. Afternoon tea with sandwiches and scones is also frightfully British. If you’ve never partaken in this activity then you need to reevaluate your nationality.

The ability to make the most of any sunshine that we get granted. The barbecues are retrieved from sheds, dust wiped off and ready to be put away again that evening when the rain begins. The holiday clothes come out shocked to be experiencing the heat of the homeland as opposed to that of Spain or Portugal. Supermarket shelves begin emptying as families flock to get supplies for the party, knowing this is the only chance they get and winter will be upon them before they can make the Pimms.

This brings me to another very British thing – Pimms. Yes that drink which is a must on any day where a speck of blue sky can be seen. Something to accompany the strawberries and cream at Wimbledon each year. Pimms o’clock becomes 24 hours when the fair weather kicks in.

So these are a few very British things. They contribute to making us a weird and wonderful, unique and special nation which I wouldn’t want to change at all.

Patience. It’s a gift and talent that only some of us have been granted. It is something that has to be learnt and needs practise. I’ve not grasped this skill yet and doubt I ever will. Occasionally I impress myself but mostly I fail. I’m not the most tolerant, at certain times of the month less so than others, but at my best patience runs low.

Do you ever find yourself getting irrationally irritated at people when they’ve done nothing wrong? They come into a shop and dither slightly and you’re cursing inside your head longing for them to hurry up and leave.

Or they come back in multiple times thinking of more things that they forgot, laugh in jest and you laugh back but through gritted teeth, filled with rage. A situation that on reflection seems so mundane and your reaction completely unnecessary but you couldn’t help it, of course. Sounding familiar? Read on.

You walk down the high street behind slow moving elderly and your head is about to burst in frustration. If you were a nice human being you’d just leisurely stroll behind them, realising they’ve lost their fast moving capabilities, besides you’re usually in no rush, but you can’t do it. The anger fills your veins as you stomp past and relax as soon as you have free space in front of your steps. Nothing actually gained.

You have arguments with siblings over nothing then minutes after the outburst you regret all you said and apologise for your brashness. Almost laughing at your ridiculous behavior.

Driving is the worst. Road rage at its finest. I mean, there are plenty of idiots on the road I will give myself that, but sometimes I get overly riled needlessly. Shouting insanely at some nutter pulling out in front of me and then laughing at my melodramatic behavior a few minutes later.

Arriving at a red light that’s just turned and feeling as though you’ll be stuck there forever. I really mean forever. Cursing for it to change to amber when the time that’s past hasn’t yet equated to a minute and you’ve not got anywhere to be.

Waiting for people to finish in the bathroom on a morning. I’m sure this provokes scenes of vexation in many households. You don’t consider the fact that you’re all in the same position and have to leave early. Instead you feel as though you’re the most rushed and cannot possibly wait two more minutes for someone to finish brushing their teeth. Calm down. Really, calm down.

Perhaps you find yourself wanting to scream very loud much of the time then question whether it’s really that bad and tell yourself to stop being so bloody dramatic. I know I certainly do. Unless you’re one of those horizontal rarities that gets irritated by nothing, in which case I am jealous.

So that’s me and patience, I’m sure many of you can relate. I aim to get better at the art of restraint but for now I’ll let my frustration build and use coping mechanisms like walks and wine. I thank my lucky stars for wine.

How many times have you been tidying your room and found yourself wasting three hours through distraction to a box of photos. Or finding some birthday cards that you end up reading and keeping for the next time that you’re supposed to be having a clear out. You even keep the ones that simply address you and sign out. “Dear Harriet, Happy Birthday. Love Tom”. Oh but I remember him from school. The good times we had. You know, the job that was supposed to take you half an hour slowly stretches out to take up most of your day. We’ve all been there.

I was looking through some memories with a friend the other night when it crossed my mind that these are the good old days. Here and now is the time we’ve got to love. I know it’s so cliche to say so and there is an expression along these lines but they really are. My friend is older than me and was looking back on times of being younger. The smile that filled her face upon remembering these people and these wild nights was lovely to see. We now have photos together and even though they date back a few years, I still look at some of the earlier ones and think what great fun we had that night or how lovely that visit was to the beach.

I’m using this specific example of one particular friend because it’s what prompted me to write this post, but in general we don’t quite realise how fast time goes by (no matter how much we comment upon it). We constantly find photos from our pasts and smile thinking how great that holiday was or what brilliant weather we had that summer.

When you actually think back to that moment did you feel as happy as you now are reflecting upon it in hindsight on a miserable rainy and cold winters day in February? Did you REALLY appreciate those moments?

I get that ‘hindsight is a beautiful thing’ and we often don’t realise how happy we are until we look back, but I for one am going to try extremely hard to feel in the moments what I know I’ll feel when I look back at the photos.

Facebook tells us each day what existed in our past. Today in 2013 I was apparently telling the world that I’d love a baby owl that never grows up for my birthday, I still do. In 2009 I’d been on a run – that was probably the first and last time this happened. But looking back on these daily reminders, I often think that I should’ve loved that moment more. Loved how I was more. Loved people within those memories more.

I want to look back on my photos and love them as much as I loved that memory in reality. I want to live each day knowing in the future it’ll make part of what will be my ‘good old days’ and I want to love it with everything I’ve got.

No matter how past it you think you are, how boring and mundane your middle aged life is, how stressful and scary your twenties are, how annoying it is being a teenager and too young to do loads of cool things, remember that these days will make up the days you look back upon and love. Remember that smile that’ll fill your face when you stumble upon these pictures in a box when sorting out your loft.

Continue to take as many photos as you can but next time you get out your phone to take a drunken selfie on a Friday night, pause for a while and make sure you’re loving that moment as much as you’re going to love it in memory.

As the second series of Blue Planet came to an end a few months ago, host David Attenborough brought to the viewers attention the destruction that plastic causes to marine life, poisoning the oceans. He stressed, through the sad and eye-opening true life footage of suffering sealife, how important it is for us to act now and reduce the amount of plastic we use before it’s too late.

Since this show and Attenborough’s bold message, the reaction has been huge as acknowledgments of the fact that we need to dramatically reduce plastic to save our oceans splurge the media.

The supermarket Iceland have vowed to eliminate plastic from all of their own-brand goods, last night the BBC dedicated a section of The One Show to this topic, they’ve also banned single-use plastic along with so many more examples of people taking action. This is not to mention the amount of discussions I find myself in on a daily basis about how easily we could halve the plastic usage through more logical packaging and how my workplace as a small business in the country can make a contribution through reusable coffee cups as well.

Attenborough is in his nineties, he’s towards the end of a massive career having made a huge name for himself and impacted upon our knowledge about the natural world greatly and what we can do about conserving it. What better way to finish? To complete his career with such a stark insight that will in turn have a huge effect upon the future of the world.

Talking about this with my Dad over a few delicious cocktails the other evening, he made a poignant statement. He told my sister’s and I that he’s always told us, ‘if you do nothing else you’ve got to make sure you make your scratch on the world’ as David Attenborough has done here.

Not everyone is going to invent something new. I understand this. Not all of us will find a key piece of research into the cure for cancer or deliver a powerful message after a long and successful career which changes the way we all think, though I know my dad would love for us all to aspire to this.

It’s great to have huge ambitions, however, the important message that I took away from our conversation is that as long as you do something in life to make a difference to others then you’ve done it right.

Great, if your achievement is something huge (and you should always strive to achieve big) fantastic, but even if your mark is kindness and a good heart, well, that still counts. You may contribute to a huge discovery or be a part of a large conservation project or write a top novel, which are all incredible and should be celebrated. But helping others, helping strangers, giving advice, being generous, helping charity, changing someone’s perspective and many more small actions which occur daily should be commemorated too.

Whichever way you make your indent on the world and others around you just be conscious of doing so. As long as you can say in your ageing years that you’ve given to and got out of this world as much as you possibly could, then I personally think you’ve done a good job.

In the mean time though, do your best and think of alternatives to plastic.

How often do you find yourself saying those three words ‘just in case’? Water by the bed just in case you get thirsty in the night. An extra layer on a walk just in case it’s needed (you can always take it off). A full biscuit tin just in case unexpected guests arrive. A spare pair of knickers in your handbag…girls. Sounding familiar? The list goes on and on.

It’s another of those funny human traits that we’ve adopted over time and we all do it. I got in the car the other night after babysitting. It was icy and dark to make the atmosphere that bit more scary, but in reality I was just being a wimp. The house that I was at was huge, had lots of security and is located in a tiny little village in Cambridgeshire so regardless, the likeliness of my fears being real was very low.

However, I was still convinced someone had got in my car while I’d been inside and that they were ready to kill. So adamant that I felt the need to shine my phone torch through the back seat to see if anyone had climbed in, ready to stab me on the journey home. I then got in, sat with the engine on in attempt to de-ice the vehicle and was constantly checking back, despite having already checked once, to see that nobody was hiding right under the seat where I couldn’t see them.

It’s always funny during times like Christmas or periods of bad weather conditions when people flock to the supermarkets to buy everything just in case. Or when entertaining, the amount of extra bottles of this and that that we buy just in case so and so has a drink, though they’ll probably be driving. Going for a wee before bed in case you need it in the night. Or before the cinema, or long car journeys, or whenever leaving the house to do anything really, let’s be honest. A brolly in the bag in case it rains.

Most of these make total sense and, though an example of human paranoia, they can be forgiven. Some instances however, are totally bizarre. For example, buying extra birthday presents and having the odd spare card, for both girl and boy, in case you forget someone’s birthday and need an emergency ‘little something’. Does this not defeat the whole generosity and thought behind the giving of cards and gifts. The point being that you went out of your way and openly thought of them on this special occasion. That’s what it’s meant to show, not that you have a sneaky stash that you can pounce on, say ‘that’ll do’ and give to anybody that you’ve forgotten.

Superstitions are another peculiar one and I’m the worst for letting these control me. Never in my life have I walked under a ladder, I always salute lone Magpies at the side of the road and no way will I step on three drains on the pavement. In fact I feel so passionately that this will bring me bad luck that I have in the past launched myself into people in order to avoid the horrid things.

Another one that I can’t shake is when I’m watching tele or listening to the radio and if the volume isn’t on an even number then my mind goes berserk. I can’t concentrate until I’ve changed it. There is absolutely no logic behind this action and I realise this, but I can’t help myself.

So why? Why do we hone in on the bad luck these irrelevant actions will bring. Why do we touch wood for good luck or feel blessed when a black cat crosses our path. I don’t really think anything will happen but my brain tells me otherwise so I just tend to go with it.

As I said, many of the above are logical and merely show how prepared and organised we can be, others just reek irrationality. It’s a question I’m throwing out there to which I certainly know no answer, but why do we do all of these things ‘just in case’? I know I’ll continue to do so and so will you.

Ever heard of the condition SAD? Seasonal affective disorder, that one. Ever thought upon hearing about it that it’s just a myth and nobody actually suffers from it? Well, if you open your eyes during the months of January and February it doesn’t take much to understand how real this condition is.

Over the past two weeks I’ve found my mood fluctuating massively. Mostly during the afternoon when I come over extremely tired and feeling a bit miserable. I realise my highly sugary diet which I’m blaming Christmas for (though I know I should have snapped out of it by now) doesn’t help, but nor does this awful weather. Some days I feel that I haven’t seen daylight at all and it starts getting dark at around 2pm (if it ever got light in the first place).

I look outside of the window each morning hoping for one of those extra crisp and bright winters days. You know the kind; clear blue skies, sunshine, maybe a touch of frost too if we’re lucky. Bliss. But no. Not one. In fact the other day for the first time all winter, all four tables outside the little shop that I work at were filled with people enjoying warm beverages and it made me so happy. It’s the little things! But it did. They had blankets, of course, but it was that bit of brightness that brought them all out and brought the village to life again. That was one day.

Then continued the gloomy dark days of January for another week. People constantly discussing how dreadful it is to be outside, telling you how many degrees Celsius it is (not that you want to be reminded) and informing you that it’s just started raining…again.

It’s a fact that the weather affects your mood and it takes no scientist to figure that one out. Yesterday, I awoke to darkness and rain drops covering my window. That’s how it was for the entire day. It didn’t help that yesterday was ‘blue Monday‘, deemed the most depressing day of the year because everybody’s back at work, realising that the holiday season is well and truly over and most are also out of budget due to an expensive December, but I for one felt miserable. I know that my misery was due to the weather and no matter how hard you try to avoid it affecting your whole mood, it does. You look outside for a bit of cheeriness on days that you don’t feel so chipper and it doesn’t help if outdoors looks as gloomy as you feel.

On the other hand, this morning I awoke to clear blue skies, bright sunshine and the day began with a huge smile filling my face. I instantly wanted to get out of bed and get on with everything that I had to do. That’s right, good weather makes you want to do stuff. I felt good walking to work after a productive morning. I felt good at work and didn’t come over with that dreary tiredness that I’d been feeling for the rest of the typically solemn January days that have recently passed. Sunshine brings happiness, rain makes you downhearted – fact. Especially when it’s rain accompanied by darkness and you feel as though this may be the end of life on earth. Dramatic? Maybe slightly, but I’m sure you’ve had similar thoughts regarding rubbish winter weather before.

So, let’s hope for more days like the one captured above during the first two months of the year, less of the darkness and less of the rain. May the sunshine be welcomed and remain for as long as the days drag out but if not, then bring on the spring!

We’ve all had that moment when the list of everything that we have to complete that day is buzzing around our head, but it’s OK because it’s only…MIDDAY? How did that happen? Then, we look into the palm of our hand and see our fingers scrolling through post after post on Facebook. Most of which we’ve already seen or read but we may as well waste more time and read it again, right? This activity is definitely more common in younger people, but I am certainly not accepting that this only happens to people born after 1994. Yes, the social media bug has sifted its way through generations and even my Grandad ‘loves’ posts on Facebook and knows about my graduation before I’ve rang him to have the old fashioned conversation.

I’m not saying that my Grandad and others in their seventies and eighties reach for their phone to see updates first thing and that it’s the last thing they see before going to sleep at night, but it is contagious and it’s definitely catching.

You always hear negatives surrounding social media and how bad it is for kids. Yes, there are so many dangerous issues that come with this media platform but I think that it brings good to the world as well.

I understand that children who are far too young have access to things that would never have been accessible back in 1970 when playing outdoors in the mud was all kids did. I get that it leads to cyber-bullying and depression in young people because they can see conversations between friends that they’d never have seen before. The bullies can hide behind screens and write nasty messages that they’d be too cowardly to say in person. People who suffer conditions such as eating disorders can read hurtful comments from people who don’t know but feel they need to voice their unbalanced and uninformed opinion all over the internet. They have access to profiles of people with similar illnesses who feel they’re trying to help but are making a bad situation worse by highlighting calorie counting and feeling good after starving yourself for three days.

It removes the need for face-to-face conversation because it’s easier to type out a message and not have to immediately respond. There is a huge lack of emotional connection and some young people are finding it more and more difficult to effectively communicate nowadays because often they go for hours, days, weeks without saying a word, only through social media do they talk to people. It almost removes the humanity from our veins, talking like robots through machines, getting rid of emotion and closeness, being so blunt and misreading messages that are intended on being conveyed differently.

Taking all of the above on board but flipping it around, there are also many benefits that social media brings to the world. It creates a huge space for marketing and networking and is used by businesses everywhere for promotion. Companies can source masses of traffic and increase the awareness about themselves by boosting posts on Facebook, creating advertisements and targeting the correct audience for what they are trying to publicize.

Not only for business though, social media can also be beneficial on a personal level. I often find myself chuckling away at the upbeat memes and sayings plastered over my newsfeed. I often find myself smiling at lovely pictures of friends that I haven’t seen for a while but are doing great. People that I’ve met on travels around the world and find it’s impossible to stay in constant contact with yet I feel like we do virtually through ‘likes’ and comments on posts, always knowing roughly what each other are up to. When I was visiting places as far away as New Zealand for a few months, Facebook and Instagram allowed me to instantly show my loved ones that I was having a great time and was, most importantly, safe. So many families are separated nowadays due to all living in different countries and social media can bring them closer and keep them in touch too. You’d never have had that thirty years ago.

So for all its faults, there is a lot of good that comes with this thing we call social media. As long as we are careful and continue to stop some of the awful things that can occur because of its bad points, we have to accept that nowadays it is simply a part of our existence and will continue to be that way until something more wacky is invented.

I love the festive season and everything that comes with it. Joyful faces, hilarious panics to get everything you need when in reality the only thing you cannot forget is the turkey, the parties, the food…even the music doesn’t get on my nerves too much. Then, each year when it’s all over, that one day, I think to myself – really?

I was wandering around Waitrose the day after Boxing Day and laughed at how quiet and empty it was compared to Christmas Eve. The shelves full of reductions because they’ve obviously panic-ordered too. The calmness that filled the shop and how much time has passed – two days? I just wanted a pan au chocolat and some wine and was in and out in a flash, stress free. The total opposite scenario to Christmas Eve.

It’s laughable how much hype is involved for just one day. All the preparations and anxieties to be over in 24 hours. Not even 24 hours, more like 12 at a push because everyone is in a food coma by 7pm, let’s be honest. We all picture the most magical day, happy families, joyful greetings in the pub before we leave, the snowy white outdoors when actually it’s the total opposite. Every family has their dramas. Auntie Sal has never liked Grandad and Tony hates Barbara’s children. Dave always buys the same rubbish presents and get ready for pretend smiles when you all greet Uncle knob-head!

I’m no bah-humbug but it’s always the same. At the pub on Christmas Eve when talking with everybody, the same old conversation that go something like: “what are you doing for Christmas? Staying home?” T

here’s guaranteed to be one family unhappy with their plans. One family member moaning about another. False niceties between two people who you know hate each other but ‘because it’s Christmas’ they’ve got to share joy and glee and kindness. I sound awful, I’m just painting a true image.

I had a lovely Christmas this year but it wasn’t shy of arguments. I thought to myself when walking through the village with my sister at half past ten on Christmas night (yes we had skipped the food coma entirely) how it was all over for another year and that’s such a strange feeling. It’s like New Year’s Eve, another one where whatever mood you are in and however you feel, you have to be ecstatic and having a great time. Some days I want to lay on the sofa watching crap or reading my book and speak to nobody. Some nights I can’t be bothered to go out as I’m just not in the mood. No real reasons just because, but these two occasions in particular don’t allow for this. Another one of societies weird features.

Then, when it’s all over you get the questions “did you have a nice time” and regardless you have to answer that it was lovely. Nobody wants to hear about the hiccups and hating of false encounters and tiredness and not feeling 100% in good health.

This post isn’t intended to demolish everything good about Christmas as I do love it really, I’m just merely expressing how fake the whole shabbang can be. However, as long as you know you’re faking it and I know I’m faking it, we’ll do it again next year…and the next!