Day 28: Only pictures... ADVENTURES IN DRESSING UP/DOWN (#BEDM).

ADVENTURES IN DRESSING UP/DOWN

Day 27: A letter to your readers (#BEDM).

Dear Internet

Please stop taking photographs of your cat or dog in the mornings, snuggled up on your bed, with cutesy captions like “someone doesn’t want to get up lol111.”

I could tolerate one or two.  But a daily update of your cat or dog, in the same position and the same place? It looks the same each day. You might as well save yourself time and battery power and just repost the first one over and over again.

And why don’t you? Because you think it’ll be boring. I’ve got news for you, I’m afraid. It is just as boring taking a fresh photograph of your dog in bed with you each morning as it is posting the same photograph of your dog in bed with you again and again. To the casual observer, it really is no different.

I’m really not totally convinced I understand what it is you’re trying to achieve.

Also, you may not realise, but you are not the only one doing this all over twitter and facebook. You are one of 15-20 obsessive dog-photographers taking multiple photographs of your dog from different angles in the same position, in the same place. And you may not realise that we can’t actually tell the difference between your dog in bed with you and the dog someone else posted in bed with them 3 minutes earlier.

Admittedly, I am not an animal lover. I don’t see the cutesy appeal. But it just seems so self-indulgent! Yes, I’m aware that half the internet is people taking ‘selfies’ now, and pictures of their child, or their dinner or their drink. The whole internet is self-indulgent, sure.

But the animal thing? I’m no fan of endless pictures or updates about children, but at least they are actual human beings. They still take precedence over animals on my sliding scale of interest. And food? At least you can vicariously think 'ooh, that looks tasty!' But animals?  In bed with fully-grown, functional adults? Every morning?

So do us all a favour, internet. Limit yourself to one picture of your dog a week.

You might love it to bits, but you probably wouldn’t be interested if I distributed a daily photograph of my verruca via social media each morning, would you?

I feel much the same about pictures of you in bed with your dog.

  

Day 26: Something you read online (#BEDM).

I could read www.cracked.com all day.

Sometimes I get lost for hours, trailing one article to the next to the next.

I realise it might not be the most reliable source, the provenance being a little questionable, but there’s something about the tone of it that I generally trust – maybe because it’s one of those ‘you’ll never believe this is true!’ sites, full of misconceptions that turn conventional wisdom on its head.

Also, some genuinely are true, as they happen to be things I know are misconceptions from reading related material with less dubious attribution. This makes me think that some of the ones I cannot verify myself must be similarly true.

This one, however, blew my mind.

http://www.cracked.com/article_18948_5-real-deleted-bible-scenes-in-which-jesus-kicks-some-ass.html

Deleted gospels telling of the early life of Jesus, you say?
With super powers and explosions, you say?
And... Dragons?

Can it actually be true? That unselected gospels featured such mega-amazing super power drama? It might explain why they weren’t selected, I suppose. Too implausible even for the Bible?! 

That’s seriously implausible.

It makes great reading however – even if it’s not entirely accurate.

And it reminds you how totally ridiculous religious beliefs are in general.

And it makes Jesus seem like a total dick!

And if any bright spark out there can provide more substantive attribution for these lost gospels, I would love to hear it.

“Dragons. Pah – how ridiculous! Angels however- that’s obviously true. No question.”

Day 25: Something someone told you about yourself that you’ll never forget (#BEDM).

You may have picked up by now that I am not a deeply spiritual person.

I don’t believe in ghosts, I don’t believe in the baby Jesus, I don’t Believe In Life After Love.

But at a particular club night that I particularly enjoy on a particularly regular basis, they sometimes have an enormous-breasted hostess and entertainer, who occasionally likes to read fortunes.

So I went for it.

I thought it would be ironic and amusing and comedic and... well, silly. For this is the tone of the particular club night in question.

AND OH MY GOD, SHE TOOK IT SO SERIOUSLY.

So I took it seriously, and whilst it wasn’t a deeply spiritual experience, and was more akin to life-coaching than anything else, it did stay with me. Like an expert therapist she had my measure in short order, and broke through my not insubstantial mental defences and my protective shell of irony to cut through to my soft, marshmallowy middle.

We started off like this:

And we ended up like this:

And her advice?

STOP OVER THINKING EVERYTHING.

STOP TRYING TO CONTROL EVERYTHING.

IF YOU CAN'T JUST ACCEPT THAT CERTAIN THINGS JUST HAPPEN

THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE HAPPY.

Whoa!!! Stop right there.

This echoes my Simon Amstell/Acceptance epiphany I’d had a few weeks prior, but was more scary because she said it RIGHT TO MY FACE, and KNEW that was where my brain was at. If you’d asked me the source of all my worry and anxiety, and why I was so frustrated with work, it would have been THIS. And it took her about 4 minutes to coil her tentacles around my cerebellum and play her beautiful music into my frontal cortex. She was so right...

So heed these words, gentle reader: Beware of busty ladies reading fortunes. Their keen insight may not be mystical in nature, but they have GOT. YOUR. NUMBER.

Day 24: Your top 3 worst traits (#BEDM).

1)  I am ATTENTION-SEEKING

I do like to be looked at. I am a bit of a performer. Not always, but quite often. One of my favourite parts about teaching is the performing- I like to make my classes laugh, to keep them hooked on silly stories and ideas and things. I like to entertain.
Less so as I’ve got older, but it’s still there to some extent. I do it a bit with clothes too- I use clothes (or sometimes lack thereof) to get attention.
And I get a bit jealous if someone is wearing something better than what I’m wearing on Halloween or whatever, or more usually if they’re somehow managing to wear less than I am.
Yes, I’m a little better than I used to be- I literally lived on attention when I was 19- but I still enjoy being the entertainer a little too much, and I still get a little jealous when people are better and more successful at it than I am.

2)  I am OBSESSED WITH GETTING THE CREDIT

I need to feel that my contributions are acknowledged. I hate the thought that people might not know that a particular outcome, success or product came from me- or worse still, that they believe it was the work of someone else. I actively seek out credit for my work- presenting things for people’s perusal, usually under the pretext of uncertainty and checking it’s suitable, when I know full-well it is amazing, but I want them to see I did it.
It’s not an attractive trait, but something inside me needs recognition for my achievements. Perhaps someone long ago stole the credit for something I did and it caused irreparable damage to my brain?

3)  I am MATERIALISTIC

I know it’s terrible, but I’m actually really shallow about money, cars, houses and materialistic crap. I know it doesn’t count for much in the final analysis, and I would never be an arse to people for something so stupid as money, or meaningless status symbols...
BUT...
I am a little bit fond of my status symbols. I love the fact I have a really nice, fairly posh house by the sea. I love my wanky, pretentious convertible. I love putting on nice clothes and going out for posh dinners and eating swanky, fiddly, over-priced, delicious food. And I would never look down on, or be mean to someone who didn’t or couldn’t do that. Christ- most of my friends are terminally short of cash! But it is sort of important to me that I can do those things.
It’s not so bad- I work really hard, in a challenging job, so I can have nice things. But sometimes I worry I’m a bit preoccupied with how much I earn relative to others, and that I’m a little too hung up on things because it looks good.

There you have it. I’m a shallow, materialistic, attention-hungry credit hog.

I'm very shy and retiring.

Day 23: Things you’ve learned that school won’t teach you (#BEDM).

1) CRUSHES ARE FLEETING.

It isn’t love, dear gays. It is infatuation. You may well feel that, after a week going out with a guy, he is perfect. That you are beautiful together. That no-one has ever felt like you feel.

You may even feel the urge to share this with others. To proclaim your love, and how amazing he is, and how perfect your new relationship is, and how no-one else could possible understand.

But I would advise against this, for the following reasons:

a. It makes you sound like you are a 12 year old girl.
b. Your relationship will likely be over in a further 3 weeks, when you remember that you can’t handle the commitment.
c. You went through this entire process 2 months ago, with a previous perfect guy. It was horrible to listen to then, and it is horrible to listen to now.

By all means enjoy yourself, and fall in love, be soppy and romantic and talk about it. But do not overstate what you have. It’s been a week, it’s not unique to you and it may not last. Crushes are fleeting. Infatuation *feels* amazing, but is not sustained. If you are lucky (or careful about how you play it) you may end up in love for real, which is nice. But this takes time...

2) PASTA BEFORE BED KILLS HANGOVERS.
It’s true. Hangovers are horrible, but they are easily avoided. Simply cook yourself a meal when you get in from clubbing, comprised mainly of pasta, and you will awaken the following morning feeling fine, if slightly full.

3) QUALIFICATIONS DON’T EQUAL SUCCESS
At least, not necessarily. We tell you all the time that you need qualifications to get on in life. And most of the time that’s true. Sometimes though, it’s just down to luck. Most of the rich, smarmy fuckfaces you meet are super-stupid. They just somehow defied the odds and managed to wangle a highly paid job without having to demonstrate intelligence AND managed to not get run over by ice-cream trucks during their formative years despite their alarming stupidity.

And all whilst brilliant young teachers with incredible qualifications and sky-high IQs toil in obscurity.

4) YOU WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG. YOUR PARENTS REALLY DO KNOW NOTHING.
All children say mean things about their parents. At school we combat this, making vague but supportive noises about how they have your best interests at heart. But you’re actually completely right. Your parents really ARE stupid. They had you on a whim, because babies make cute noises and are fun on television. But they were not qualified to do this, and they are really just guessing their way through it. Consequently, only about half of the decisions they make have any likelihood of being remotely correct or appropriate regarding your upbringing.

Hurts doesn’t it?  Your entire childhood is really just up to chance, and things they may or may not have seen on Supernanny one night when they were having their dinner.

5) EVERYTHING IS DECAYING AND WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.
We try not to dwell on it in school, but it’s true. 

Day 22: Rant about something. Get up on your soapbox and tell us how you really feel (#BEDM).

WHERE THE ACTUAL FUCK DO YOU GET OFF TALKING TO US THAT WAY?

I refer, gentle reader, of course, to parents. PARENTS!

There was a time, long ago, when teachers were respected in their local communities. When their word was valued, their knowledge esteemed and their input prized.

THOSE DAYS ARE GONE.

Now, parents suffer the delusion that they have rights. That their opinion is worth something on account of the fact that they managed to screw for 15 minutes, then squirt out a child.

THIS IS NOT A QUALIFICATION. ANYONE CAN DO THIS. IT DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOUR OPINION IS OF ANY VALUE.

And yet... AND YET... I get these STUPID letters. These RIDICULOUS phone-calls. These LUDICROUS complaints about the most bizarre nonsense on a daily basis. Today’s example:

‘I am disgusted that you would show a 12A certificate film to my daughter. I know she is 14, and it’s technically allowed, but she is very vulnerable. In my work as a youth worker, I have learned that children progress at different rates and some are not emotionally ready for films at the same time as others. I am disappointed that she was exposed to this film at school, as it is not a film we would watch as a family.’

This is especially stupid, given her constant letters about how her child is so mature, and should be treated like a normal teenager, and should be encouraged to be grown up and pursue grown up interests.

MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND, LOVE.

Also- Youth Worker? Wow- that requires.... no qualifications. I bow to your wisdom and experience in all matters pertaining to this subject you clearly know nothing about.

But it’s not the letters of complaint and baseless opinions I mind, however mindless and over-frequent.

It is the RUDENESS. They talk to us in such an unpardonably offensive way. No manners, no please, thank you, sorry or beg your pardon. Just rude, aggressive rants, and never a word of thanks when we BEND OVER BACKWARDS to do something to help them out, even when it’s nothing to do with school and everything to do with helping them claim benefits, manage their child at home, or resolve family conflicts.

Awful, AWFUL people.

And we are expected to just smile, be professional and TAKE IT.

If they could hear themselves, I bet they wouldn’t even be embarrassed.

Parents have no shame, are completely self-absorbed and are unforgivably rude.

Parents are nasty, nasty people.

They shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near impressionable children.