Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

Some of the photos and posts that I wanted to write for My Housemate’s a Mermaid, but didn’t quite have enough material (pictorial and verbal) to fill.

Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

  1. The time how, at the start of the pandemic, Mumma B spent hours cutting squares of old fabric to make laundry bags for NHS key workers

2. When I stayed up so late that I ended up watching a much younger Nicky Campbell presenting a Top of the Pops episode from 1990

Some people had more fun than others.

I continued to watch it, even when this was played from the UK top twenty for the week.

3. How very surreal my office was when I went back to empty my locker

4. My sister’s attempts with one of those packet face masks from South Korea

It ripped off a load of skin, but not a lot else.

5. Squeak, the cat, being rebellious

6. The time I saw my old/favourite History lecturer from University on the BBC and I absolutely lost my cool

I mean, WITH LUCY WORSLEY!!

7. The time I found this in a shop and it perked up my mood

(But not enough that I bought it.)

8. The generous gin measures down the local pub

9. The generous measures of lunch portions while living with family

10. The thinking behind this at the Travel Lodge Hotel in York

It was in the foyer for several days…

11. A post detailing the contents of my bookshelf

12. Everything about this account that started following me on Twitter

How did it take you to spot that’s a semi naked woman?

13. A post on me rekindling my creative mojo during the pandemic

14. The importance of good friends who call-out when you have really bad body odour

15. The ‘what the fudge-ness’ of this targeted advert

Yes, I did tap the link and yes, I am still getting adverts for werewolf fan-fiction as a result.

16. Lockdown birthdays

17. The large number of self-published books with Covid themes

18. The other strange things being self-published

Although I am still a bit in love with the title of this book.

19. My attempts to have a massive clear-out

…which were ultimately foiled by a mixture of procrastination / charity shops being closed / Bubble the cat.

So there you go, a snippet of how much gets filtered before making it onto this website. What can I say? You get what you pay for.

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For Anyone Questioning The Quality of My Work

Remember the post I did, titled Very Cotswold Problems, #3001? It turns out Mr Maverick Lawn Mowing services (catchy name) liked the video upload, and they liked it a lot.

24 seconds of top-notch video footage of my Mumma B and her lawn mower shed antics and the dude has both liked and subscribed to my YouTube channel (still working on getting them to like the actual blog content).

If that doesn’t scream quality comedy, I don’t know what does.

Hang on…have they liked this just because of my Mum?

Seesh. Anyway, moving on…

UPDATE: Maverick has taken down their comment. Rats.

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Very Cotswold Problems, #3001

You know that incredibly annoying feeling when your automated electric lawnmower gets trapped in it’s wooden protective hutch after charging and eventually pulls the whole construction clean away while it carries on mowing the lawn? (*Deep breath*)

No? Okay, well here’s a video to clear up the scale of the problem.

Also, before you go telling me I should have stopped filming to help Mumma B out, she was the one yelling at me to hurry up and get my camera. So, you know…

UPDATE: Check out For Anyone Questioning The Quality of My Work to see what happened next!

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British Politics, as Told Through the Medium of Eurovision Songs

Having been cooped up for what feels like a lifetime, I was overjoyed to hear that Eurovision is going ahead again this year.

In celebration of this wonderfully cheesy event, here are a selection of songs which could describe the stages of British reactions to Covid (anything to make this a bit more topical).

British Politics, as Told Through the Medium of Eurovision Songs

Before Covid, everything was wonderfully normal and all we had to worry about was accidentally winding up on a date with someone you think is famous, but is actually the Bruno Mars tribute act playing at your best mate’s wedding

That, or the effects of drinking river water contaminated by the chicken farm upstream.

And then Covid kicked off, and suddenly it was like we were being plunged into a world were being happy wasn’t allowed.

(Not that I’m comparing a global pandemic to the 1944 genocide of the Crimean Peninsular, both are/were terrible.)

Stuck at home, everyone took to bombarding social media with photos of their baking and back-garden boozing (often at the same time).

And, like the song, it quickly became very old.

But while we all stayed at home and kept our distance, our front line workers in industry and health care continued to press on tirelessly, whilst scientists around the world battled to find solutions to this global pandemic.

And, for the most part, the UK government was like this:

And self-employed / small businesses were lobbying for the easing of restrictions, like…

And young people with buggered-up A-Levels and university studies were like…

But as far as Boris Johnson’s public ratings were concerned…

(Coupled with a bit of…)

It wasn’t all doom and gloom. Initially, we were allowed to go out more than once a day and countryside walks were back on. Mind, the British summer though…

Then the pubs started opening up again, shops welcoming customers. For a (short) period even international travel was back on. Happy days!

And then we c**ped it up again.

Nil-points. Ah well, back to restrictions and excessive handwashing it is.

Still, they couldn’t stop us dreaming of a world free of limitations.

Even if some of those dreams were a tad surreal.

And others more nightmarish.

But with vaccine rollouts now taking place in many countries around the world, and shows like Eurovision being staged, it serves as an important reminder that we will get through this hardship. The show must go on!

Reminds me, I better dust off some of my unworn dresses from the back of the wardrobe.

But most importantly. BRING ME MY FRIENDS, BRING ME THE CHEESE AND BRING. ME. THE. PARTY!!

TUNE!!!

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Alice, On…

Let’s start off with some backing music:

1998 this song was released, 19-flipping-98. Still a belter but golly, are we all getting old. And please, don’t come back to me saying you have no memory of this track or, worse, you weren’t even alive then. I-I just can’t.

Any who.

After the questionable success of my previous post, My Sister, On…, here is the “me” version of that. Don’t worry if you haven’t read said post, you’ll get the hang of this very quickly.

Alice, On…

Alice, on…Responsible drinking

Alice, On…Effective conflict resolution

(For context – I picked a fight with a pavement.)

Alice, On…Tropicana on a budget

Alice, On…Workplace integration

Alice, On…All-nighters

Alice, On…Open bars

Alice, On…Bathroom fittings

Alice, On…Haircare

Alice, On…Summer

“Alice, why are you taking so long to rub the sun cream in?”

“No reason!”

“Well then, can I get up?”

“DON’T YOU DARE GET UP YET!!”

Alice, On…”Does my bum look out-of-proportionately big in this?”

Alice, On…Any kind of headwear

And finally (for now), Alice, On…Basic photography skills

Oh, trust me, you’re welcome

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Cotswold Man Versus Pheasant

So, I’m minding my own business the other day, working from home (as per usual), when I go into the kitchen to grab a coffee and spot this in the garden.

Having a spare minute or two between meetings, I pop outside to take a better look.

Just as surreal an explanation as expected. But still.

I went back to my work laptop and assumed that would be the end of that, that nothing would come of this Robinson Crusoe pheasant trap.

Half an hour (max.) later…

And a little time later still…

Unbelievable.

Shaking my head with disbelief, I bring myself back to my laptop to try and actually get some work done.

“Alice, come with me to drop off this pheasant,’ Papa B says.

“But I’ve got my next meeting in 15 minutes.”

“Well then, hurry up and get your shoes on.”

(Classic family reaction to anything of the sort. Cotswold drama > work.)

He loads the car up with the wheelie bin:

And off we go to calmly release the bird into a wooded spot up the hill.

And now, for the big finish.

We drive back down and I get back into the house just in time to join my work meeting, nobody any the wiser of the craziness that has just gone down.

What can I say? Lockdown just got weirder.

(Important disclaimer – no animals were harmed during this process. The pheasant was humanely released into the wild, flying away without injury. We stayed for a short while after the release to be certain of the animal’s welfare. He was long gone, in fact a week later the peasant actually came back. So there you go, what a success that turned out to be.)

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My Sister, On…

This post is dedicated to my lovely little sister, Bubba B.

It’s also dedicated to my old photo achieves I’ve been trawling through with zero regard to common decency. She let me take these photographs, she knew what she was signing herself up to five/six years later.

(At least that’s what my lawyers will say.)

*Cough* anyway, here we go.

My Sister, On…

My Sister, On…Contemporary Art

My Sister, On…Prehistory

(My Sister, On…World Domination of Prehistory)

My Sister, On…Geology

India On…Hipster Coffee

My Sister, On…Making Friends

My Sister, On…Interior Design

My Sister, On…Cultural Portrayals of the Female Body

My Sister, On…Wine Tasting

My Sister, On…Home Removals

My Sister, On…Interpretive Dance

My Sister, On…Travel

My Sister, On…Motivational Talks

(And finally – for now) My Sister, On…Questionable Photography

There you have it! Stay awesome, sister of the sea.

(PS, because no one is perfect…)

Alice On…Literature(?)

Yeah, I’ve no idea either.

(There may be an “Alice On…” sequel, or two, coming soon.)

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Why Alice is *Still* Single…Probably

Candles, erosion excitement and a scurvy-inducing diet, we’ve got all the reasons (and more) why I’ve quite possibly still yet to become one half of a “smug couple”.

Why Alice is Still Single…Probably

First Things First

  • I can’t help that a pandemic happened.
  • I don’t proactively choose to shun humans (Yeah, I’ll call up my insurance firm now. “Hello, I’d like to record my profession as ‘Aspirational Spinster’ please? What do you mean, that’ll increase my premium?”)
  • Although, for the benefit of reassurance, I am attracted to humans.

(But I am also attracted to that part of YouTube.)

I’ve Made My Memory Foam Bed, and it Serves me Well

I live where I live and do what I do. And before you give me that Sliding Doors baloney, “if only you’d taken that fictional job somewhere else, then maybe things would be different”, I mean, sure but…

A) Not God.

B) There are loads of amazing things I’d have missed out on.

C) I lived in London for a year and guess what? Despite getting my bag stuck in the Tube countless times and missing countless more trains altogether, John Hannah still didn’t show up and I’m still not Gwyneth Paltrow.

(But at least my accent isn’t that grating.)

My Cooking is Beyond Questionable

Case in point, I routinely eat leftover Chinese with pasta. I call it “East Meets West” (no, really, I do).

I know what you’re thinking and yes, I am the kind of girl who brings a stapler and a rack of business cards to dinner (and you thought the Chinese was hot stuff).

As a rule of thumb, the dishes I cook involve three ingredients. E.g. scrambled eggs: eggs (no milk), bread, butter for bread. Soup: tin of soup, bread, butter for bread. Chips, fish fingers, peas.

I also routinely snack on dry cream crackers.

#NoShame

I’m Not in the Market of Being Someone I’m Not

I’m so out of habit with makeup I barely wear it nowadays. The idea of putting all this stuff on my face to create something to satisfy everyone but me just doesn’t do anything for me (you can’t see your own face after all).

Looking at this from a positive angle, this is presently the worst I’m ever going to get:

*Well, excluding when I’m chilling out in the back of Shoreditch clubs.

Moving on…

Everything Excites Me…But Men

Things like having David Nicholls, author of One Day, like my Tweet:

(Reason .5 for staying single – I like using words like golly)

I also like seeing the effects of coastal erosion on tiny pebbles:

Longshore drift is a thing y’all.

Even these socks with one of my favourite Picasso paintings, they got me excited:

I didn’t even care they only were available in a men’s size. Why? Because I’m now the proud owner of Picasso socks. Duh.

It doesn’t take much to get me excited, but on the downside, it doesn’t take much to get me excited. I don’t need a guy to be the *sole* provider of my joy…unless you have Picasso socks. And yes, pun intended.

I Have Awesome Friends

Doesn’t everyone bring hand sanitiser and a banking card reader to their girls’ night in calls?

Granted, things are a smidge surreal at the moment, but I still have my girl (and guy) friends. And if I can’t meet up with them in real life, I still can connect with them digitally.

Dressing up and dancing around my bedroom, it’s like the teenage years I never had. Back when I was too busy wearing jeans and playing about with hair straighteners and knives.

Oh, Cotswolds, you do crack me up.

Nb, that was taken on my eighteenth birthday. Disney need to do a rerun of that film, 13 Going on 30.

We’ll call it 30 Going on 13, and it’ll be 90 minutes of me struggling to comprehend water installations in urban environments:

Ten years on and I’m still trying to work them out.

Hmm, I think we’ve gone a bit off topic somewhere around here. What were we discussing, again? Oh yeah, why I’m single.

Me, Myself and I; We’ve got Our Own Thaang Going on

*cough*

This is How I Dress

This is How I React to Confusing Things

I Already Have an Interim Solution, and it’s a Candle

I can’t quite fathom how Glade have done this, but I swear this candle smells like a ‘best of’ man collection. It’s kinda musky and has a nice cologne-like secondary smell. I think it’s a honey and chocolate combo.

I can’t share the smell, but trust me, it’s solid. And no, I’m not backing down on this.

And Then There Are the Creeps

Ooh! Bear with, just got a new match.

Right, let’s open this up…

Ah.

In Summary

Your best bet is to cook me something with four ingredients, invest in quirky socks and dip yourself in molten wax.

Guess what? I’m eighteen years old in that one too.

I need to get into teen movies. Where is my non-existent agent?

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Labelling My Condition – Endometriosis

A personal statement, in regards to my general health

Labelling My Condition – Endometriosis

Pre operation and post operation.

Shortly afterwards I was placed on a drip.

The start of this week has been the roughest I’ve faced in this recent chapter of my life. Aiming to remove a benign lump in my uterus, in theatre consultants discovered extensive Endometriosis tissue, the removal of which left me in a world of pain, unable to stomach food and doped up on a cocktail of morphine and other drugs. 

I have so much respect for the tremendous staff at BMI Droitwich Hospital for their expertise and care. Those who wiped away my tears, sat with me through the night when I was at my worst and made me laugh when I needed it most. Aside from now walking around like an old woman (blame the stiches) I’m equally lucky to have an incredibly supportive family who’ve been nursing me back to health since my hospital discharge.

A final point for all my women in arms; DON’T suffer in silence, DON’T take no for an answer and DON’T ever ignore your body. Endometriosis is notorious for being side-lined by health professionals; don’t be a muppet like me, too scared to rock the boat.

After years of suffering, I finally have a diagnosis. Here’s to a future where I can label my condition, access support groups and, now, better understand myself.

With love xx

Edit: I’ve been overwhelmed with positive well-wishers and messages. Thank you. I’m heavily contemplating writing a separate blog post on how I got to this point. Not necessarily a mini-saga (“it all started when I was 12 years old…”) but a piece covering the last few months. Despite all the pain, there have been a couple of lighter moments that it would be equally nice to share. Stay tuned. x

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Working From Home, Day 330: The Cat Hates Me

This one goes out to everyone powering through a seemingly unending home working setup, whilst having to share with others who are perhaps less understanding.

Yes, I’m talking about our pets.

It starts innocently enough, like this:

Discovering that the traditional ‘chair hop’ approach wasn’t getting perhaps the desired result, Squeak starts trying on some new moves. Well, I say new moves, it involves her sticking her bum in my face and using my torso as a multi-level way to easily climb down.

Then all hell breaks loose.

This continuously carries on until, weeks and weeks later, I’m tipped over the edge of breaking point.

She’s totally the only reason I’ve started taking to wearing a dressing gown around the house all day. Nope, sure as heck nothing to do with anything else, I’m as sane as a…drain?

(Oh, and before you ask, I have no idea what I say at the end either. Let’s just settle with ‘generic old woman grumblings’.)

So, to ensure any work gets done we’re had to reach an uneasy compromise. It looks something like this.

FYI if anyone is on the receiving end of a questionable email or ‘jdfsklfdivl’ (or similar); the cat made me do it.

That said, I am becoming increasingly aware of how much sensitive information my cat has access to.

She’s also taken to passing judgement it, too.

If looks could provide constructive feedback…

As home working is likely to be a major factor in working life both now and possibly into the longer term, Squeak and I are just going to have to work things out between us. Not that I’m comparing a family pet to that of a human child, but I’ve discovered this tactic of distraction (using a personal laptop) works surprisingly well.

(Just sayin’)

And if all else fails? Well, if you can’t beat them…

…Turn them into free blog/social media content.

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