Another one from deep within the MHAM draft posts that never made it to air…until now.
Back in 2021…
I was thinking to myself the other day “you know what? There aren’t enough podcasts in the world. And golly, there sure as heck aren’t enough opinions being shared around. I should do something to rectify this immediately!”
Or, alternatively, I saw an advert for the free podcasting creator, Anchor, and thought I’d give it a shot.
Several coffees later and some playing about with low-budget graphics and ta-da! A podcast was born:
(Before you say anything, I really cannot stress the low budget-ness of this production. Low budget in the sense there is none.)
Who knows what will become of this, but basically it’s me talking to myself for up to half an hour and in episode one I talk about what lead me to start writing a blog. If you enjoy the concept of a one-woman natter then you’re in for a right royal treat.
I honestly could not be selling this venture harder if I tried. It’s just something I’m giving a go at for a bit of fun.
Surprise, surprise, it didn’t catch on and after forcing myself through four recordings I stopped podcasting and went back to pure writing. I think as much as anything it was the realisation that podcasting with free software is difficult (in that I found the free to use software incredibly limiting and of overall poor production value).
I’m currently in the process of getting the original recordings saved (would you believe it, the platform appears to give podcast owners no access to downloading their own work once published).
For now, enjoy the bittersweet car crash that was the MHAM podcast and who knows, maybe I’ll revive it one day on better terms.
**
Could you spare a dollar to support me? Donate here!
Hello, present-day Alice here. I found this post deep in my draft archives, 2021 deep. On one hand I have no idea why it never got posted, and on the other hand I have every idea.
While some things have changed since this was first drafted (notably the fact I was very much single in 2021), you’ll be pleased to know the cooking skills are still as horrific now as they were then. I did it then, and I have no doubt I’d do it all over again if given half the chance…and a courgette.
So, that in mind, enjoy. AEB
**
You know how when someone says they’re a fat person in a skinny person’s body, you nod along? Well, I am that person, the one who doesn’t understand how she’s not yet stuck in a doorway.
I honestly think the only reason I’m still a healthy weight is be because I’m a slave in the Matrix, and the aliens are milking me for battery juice. (It’s a normal thought process to have, right?)
Take this evening and my portion control when it comes to this mass-produced Quorn Spaghetti Bolognese:
(FYI, not a vegetarian, just trying to do my bit for the planet…and stop Paul McCartney coming after me.)
And yes, there are also frozen vegetables in there, but let’s not dwell on the lengths I go to to ‘stodge-out’ a meal.
The thing is, it was a perfectly normal* (*Alice’s version of normal) meal. But then I had this courgette. And the courgette was on the turn (it was a little bit squidgy), but it was something Mumma B had given to me, so I was determined to not let it go to waste. But the mince-stuff was already cooked and rapidly burning.
Basically, I panicked.
I hurry-sliced the courgette, coated it in black pepper, drowned it in olive oil and then threw it in the oven. I don’t know why, I just did. And even as I type this, I am very much aware this is an Alice-world problem.
Anyway, about ten minutes later (Married at First Sight was on and I may have got distracted), I retrieved the cooked-baked mush that was once a courgette and dolloped it onto my dinner plate. By now the pasta was stodgy and the mince mostly burnt on the bottom of the pan. To add to this, I didn’t quite feel satisfied that the first picture illustrated the large portion of food I had on my plate. So what did I do?
Yes, that’s right, I compared it to the size of a teabag.
This, this is what I do for content. Jeeze.
**
Could you spare a dollar to support me? Donate here!
Check out this beautiful, hand-made, Japanese silk face covering I just purchased from KatyBeesDesignStudio, on Etsy.
Who needs makeup and filters when you can look this damn fine? (And/or have something covering half your face anyway.) PS – hair was doing its own thing that day, it could not be tamed for love nor a litre of hair-care products.
It’s so incredibly comfy to wear and comes fitted with a top metal strip and slot-in space for a removeable air filter, should you wish to have one. Even before I’d had chance to put it on, I felt like an utter princess from the packaging presentation.
As well as the face covering (delivered in a rainbow pager bag), she sent me an air filter in a drawstring bag and some cute trinkets in a little drawstring pouch. You know how I get over little trinket items. It really was the icing on the cake
Katy hasn’t sponsored me to write this post but it’s been a long two years and it’s been a while since I got excited over something as mundane as a face covering. I simply had to rave about it.
Recently got the kitchen done = no oven for two weeks = several takeouts and a trillion microwave meals.
Now, you guys all know how horrific my life choices can be when I set my mind to it? Well this, this shows one of those in action. Behold, me deomonstrating how to prepare one of my signature classics, “East Meets West”.
An absolute culinary pro from start to finish.
Next question, who’s coming over to mine for seconds?
(Ps, if you’re after more kitchen inspiration, here’s the link to my stodge dinner recipe.)
**
Please consider donating the price of a cup of coffee to my funding page:
A quick one from me to wish all my readers a very merry Christmas and, if Christmas isn’t your thing, a relaxing few days with happiness and relaxation a plenty.
With love and hugs, Alice x
(Ps, if you’re after some fireside reading, you do know there’s a wealth of past blog posts on my Contents page? You’re welcome.)
**
Please consider donating the price of a cup of coffee to my funding page:
Can I just start with the most middle-class, Cotswold drama to have occured this year at Christmas. Mumma B, setting her prized oven mits on fire, by accidentally placing them over a Yankee candle.
The best bit? Mumma B’s first reaction to my panic was to assume the vegetables were boiling over. I don’t think it quite trumps the time I dropped the Michael Buble Christmas CD in a tray of turkey fat, but it’s a close second.
Anyway…
Letters, Books, Pigeons: Christmas 2021
Music
I’m going to start as we mean to go on, with this:
You know what? The more times I watch it, the more times I think there is nothing in here the great George Michael and Andrew Ridgley of Wham! would take issue with.
From the soundtrack to the casual bit of inter breed dating, I only hope, and I truly mean this from the bottom of my heart, that George Michael was able to watch this before his death in 2016.
(And if you think any of this is tragic just remember, this wasn’t even the worst thing I came across. Nowhere near.)
I’m Dreaming of a White…Pigeon
When it comes to Christmas, everyone has a different interpretation for what festivities look like. Some people have robins in snow, in Swindon we’ve got pigeons bathing in overflowing waste drains.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
Interior Decorations
While I’m not one of those who puts up decorations super early, I am a fan of Christmas when it does come along. Anything to get me over the trauma of Halloween.
Genuinely can’t be trusted to watch a 12-rated spook film without freaking out at the slightest jump-scare. Years it took me to get over Disney’s The Haunted Mansion, years.
I put up my tree…
…and proceded to smash up my beloved retro starburst clock, by attempting to hang lights off it. The entire glass dial, smashed into a trillion bitty pieces.
Mazel Tov! (Oh, wait, that’s the wrong religion.)
Moving along…
Shopping
It’s always nice when Jesus graces you with his presence when you’re out and about shopping, even if his eyeless sockets are a little bit menacing.
We buy all these presents, yet not one of them is for him? So humble.
And I’m not going to lie, arguably the gifting has already peaked this year. That happened recently when my family teamed up to buy me a whole set of matching Next kitchenware.
My goodness, it’s so beautiful.
Huh? Sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, presents.
I mean, at the same birthday I also got given this:
Honestly, the embarassment of opening this in front of my family, alongside Next kitchenware. Not just that, reading the blurb out! Trust me, it gets worse. Deary me, my cheeks were not ready for that leavel of red. (Thanks Matt, mission accomplished!)
Now this, this is the sort of tat I can get into.
(But not buy.)
Hang on a second, I’m sure I’ve seen something like this before.
My goodness, talk about nerve!
That was on sale for £2 less in 2019!
It set me up to be in a right unimpressed British emoji-type mood when my younger sister pointed this sign-board out to me.
No, just no.
Ignoring all of the random shop items, this year my best purchase has to be, without a shadow of a doubt, my new fountain pen.
I bought the pen, then proceeded to Google how to make it work.
There’s definetely something ironic in using the internet to lookup the basics of how to use a pen.
Letters
One of my favourite things I like to do every year is write Christmas cards. This year, with so many of my colleagues based overseas that meant a bit more spent on stamps but heck, they’re worth it.
For clarity, these aren’t the only cards I’ve written. I have more than five friends.
I’m still at the stage of life where I don’t have five million of them to write out, and/or pressing life matters that see every night booked up from 1st August, through to 15th January. I can treat myself to the odd night of pure card-writing, jotting out personalised notes to those nearest and dearest. It gives me a kind of buzz.
What can I say? Some people have alcohol, I have cards. We both have wrecked tounges.
Terrible Christmas Films (No, Really)
When I write cards, wrap presents etc, I tend to stick on one of those terribly wonderful Hallmark-type Christmas films on. Predictable and, I used to think, unoffensive. That was, until I saw this clip:
THEY DON’T EVEN EAT THE FOOD!!
What kind of dining-out date is this? Nu-huh, I’m sorry mate, you can stop juggling those oranges, because if I’m not getting a look-in on that Tupperware box, then you ain’t getting this.
(Close friends have also pointed out countless other things that make no sense in this montage, however I’m sticking firm on the lack-of-food being the absolute worst. Three words; girl, gotta, eat.)
On that note… *returns to phone to scroll through her tailored Facebook adverts*
Serves me right for being an insomniac. And, on the topic of sleep, a late night pop to the shops to buy some milk and I spot this:
“…Does it come with a receipt?”
Coffee
Oh, hey! Almost forgot. It’s December now, so that means my diet is even more whacky than other months* (*let’s be honest, my diet is hardly enviable). Did someone invite me to go around all the coffee shops, drink gingerbread lattes and not eat anything until evening, when I have a three course meal?
(Not that I ever want to have a three course meal, even two courses is an extreme for me, but because it’s December suddenly that’s a thing. Gonna get me a sweet, sweet latte, bigger than my tiny wrist can hold.)
Anyway, yes, yes that’s me. And I will read a book in there and no, you will not have a hope of kicking me out until at least two hours have passed, and not a minute before.
Unrelated note, does anyone else get life this after getting heavily involved with an emotional book?
“Walking through the dark and cold drizzel of town, after a 2+ hour coffee shop reading session. So full of mixed emotions right now, I genuinely don’t know whether to cry or feel inspired. Just me, or does anyone else have to take a lie down when the book feel get this intense?”
Turns out, it’s just me.
“Ink not coming out of fountain pen” is a niche search entry, I’ll give you that. Maybe not quite as popular as Ariana Grande but heck, you’ve gotta keep these traditions alive.
Conclusions
You know what? Stuff it! I’m just gonna book myself on a professionally accredited course to learn about unicorn magic…
…and go watch the Swindon Wildcats play down the local rink.
In fairness, it was such a good game.
Wait, There’s More!
Before you go, remember that video I included at the start of this post? Well, guess what? The creator only went and made an improved version and/or (to be honest I’m not entirely sure which) sequeal a few years later! Yeah, I know!
Better still, the soundtrack features the musical stylings of Cascada, covering Wham!
Honestly, between these music videos and that pictre of pigeons washing themselves in waste water, I really don’t think Christmas could really peak much more than this.
**
Please consider donating the price of a cup of coffee to my funding page:
I was having a chat with someone at work the other day and it got me reminiscing about the first solo adventure I went on back in November 2018. Wow, three years has flown by! Since then I’ve been on three further solo trips and I can’t wait for normality to return once more so I can get back into exploring Europe without limitation.
I loved Bruges with all my heart, as much for what it did to me as much as its physical beauty.
One moment will forever stick in my mind. I’d taken it upon myself to visit a number of the churches in the North of the city, where very few tourists went. Alone in Sint-Walburgakerk church, an elderly volunteer, latching onto the excuse to perform, struck up the organ and began to play the most beautiful music. With every gentle note I started to reflect, thinking about all the things I’d accomplished in such a short space of time. I’d gone from being put down as the timid country mouse studying History and clearing wedding tables at 2am, to a smartly-dressed Financial Services professional, working in the City of London. And in a that I was there, in that church, travelling without anyone’s permission, approval or, indeed, moaning. I didn’t need to justify myself to anyone, not anymore. I was me.
In the same way I’d found myself silently weeping in Prague a year ago, over someone who’d rather sit in the hotel room 50 yards away than be with me, I was crying again. But this time something was different; the tears tracing down my hot flushed cheeks weren’t bitter, nor cold, they tasted sweet. In an empty church in Bruges, I was hit with a sudden burst of clarity. After all this time, I’d finally discovered what my heart had been missing all along. I was proud of myself.
Bruges was just incredible, second only to Arvon writing course (but then, to compare the two experiences would be like comparing chalk to cheese).
Most of you will have seen this already but hell, I’m sharing it again. Here is the Windows Movie Maker video I put together after I got back from my first solo city break to Bruges. Filmed on a (very) humble iPhone 5.
**
Enjoying this content? Please consider donating the price of a cup of coffee to my funding page:
This is my obligatory public service announcement that I’ve now had my second dose of the Covid-19 vaccination. Whoop! Go me/science/go-away pandemic.
And, because I’m also that kind of person, I used it as an excuse to post a number of letters on the way home. That’s right, I’m so productive!
I spent the vaccination part of my appointment talking to the nurse about my fabulous taste in dresses (best two minutes of any girl’s life) and the fifteen minutes wait time afterwards reading a book. I could have taken a photo of either one of these two activities but it really wasn’t that exciting. Posting letters in a pillar box, that was more exciting.
In short, the process to get both my vaccines was so laid back, it was virtually horizontal. All super friendly people, with big smiles and even bigger bottles of hand sanitiser.
I’m not going to get overly-preachy, but I’d highly encourage anyone to get jabbed (*if it’s something that’s offered to you and something you can medically take).
Still unsure? Browse information published on medically recognised websites, log onto your national health webpages (in the UK, anything endorsed by the NHS), talk to medicine women/men. Don’t listen to idiotic turnips, the ones who own little more in the technical department than a cheap keyboard and have way too much time on their hands to write whacky blogs (oh, wait…)
Anyway, this is my little bit to inform people that yes, I’ve had my second dose of the Covid vaccine and yes, that does mean 14 days from now there’s a heightened risk that I’ll start running around and hugging people for no apparent reason. Also, I may start crying. No reason, I just might.
You have been warned.
**
Please support unpaid writers, like me, by donating to my funding page:
My Housemate's a Mermaid 