Do ensure you pack as much food as possible - you never know, maybe you will suddenly be blocked off from all civilization.
Do feel unbearably smug as you set off; safe in the knowledge that you have indeed catered for your family, and you are clearly the only people who have thought of doing anything as wholesome as camping.
Do wipe that smug out-doorsey grin off your face as you realise with some embarrassment, that you have in fact left the towel at home - as well as the bowls. Of course, you won't realise this until you are too far into the Yorkshire Dales to do anything about it - at this point, your mobile has no reception and the local supermarket seems to stock nothing you actually want. Other than weirdly flourescent jam tarts which you allow the kids to buy in a moment of weakness, only to realise that they had paid no attention when you explained in the shop, that they are in fact jam tarts, rather than mince pies, and that they will not last long enough to give them to Father Christmas. We never did see any towels - how the dales folk shower is a mystery. Perhaps they drip-dry.
Do feel oddly satisfied as you decide you can obviously just use your slightly manky linen skirt as a towel - why not? This must be what all those camping enthusiasts refer to as proper, rough camping. Along with the 4 small sponges your husband bought from another nearby supermarket, in lieu of a towel, we will be just fine.
Don't attempt to help too much with putting up the tent - unless you are already a seasoned camper. Just stand well back in a supervisory role, and do as you are told. After a while, you may have picked up enough technical terms to make clever-sounding comments, which will boost your confidence no end.
Don't panic as the realisation slowly dawns on you, that your children are very hyper and you will need to spend time with them in a tiny, enclosed space. When did they become so noisy and how do you switch them off?
Do feel happy and snug as they fall asleep quickly, all crammed into said tiny space.
Do resist the temptation to push a cow down the hill, aiming it at the tent containing the world's loudest man, who is happily reading Trivial Pursuit questions out (very) loud to his fellow holiday makers. At 11 'o' clock at night.
Don't worry about going to the toilet in the middle of the night, putting it off for hours in the sure knowledge that when you do go down there, an axe murderer will be waiting for you. This is pretty unlikely. Though stranger things have happened.
Do remember to plan ahead, before venturing down the campsite hill to shower. Otherwise, you may find yourself without clean knickers, or a hair band. Still, you could improvise and use your toddler's filthy leggings to hold your hair up. This, along with the wet linen skirt-cum-towel makes you feel like a total failure as a camper, and an adult. Especially when you have to walk out of the showers and up the hill wearing white linen trousers and, ahem, no knickers. Only then does it occur to you that you could have worn the old, dirty knickers. Still, never mind, at least you held the dirty laundry in front of you protectively.
Don't point and laugh as you show your husband the large cardboard sick-bucket in another family's car. This will make you look very rude.
Do feel totally, over-the-top excited when you and your family find actual, real-life, proper fossils at Hardraw Force (the largest un-broken waterfall in England).
Don't make a random child panic as you smile at her in a wide-eyed, excited way and offer her a fossil. To her, you look like a crazy stranger proffering a small black rock. She will shake her head in quiet terror.
When you have returned safely home, and you find yourself attempting to relax the next day, do stay calm instead of nearly weeping and begging your children to please stop bickering, while you silently wonder why they are so annoying. Wish you were here?
Wednesday 24 July 2013
Sunday 21 July 2013
How come I fancy a man in uniform?
“Do you wear a uniform, or do you just fancy those who do?” This is the tag-line for Uniformdating.com. So, what kind of uniforms are they talking about? The luminous, oversized and invariably unflattering fleeces of the supermarket staff? A clown's outfit - oversized shoes and a comedy wig? The brown, beige and orange nylon horrors of the local opticians? A giant bear mascot suit? Well, the advert shows a fireman, nurses and the like. Surely joining this site would just be setting yourself up for a massive disappointment – chances are it is either full of the uniform fanciers, or cleaners, traffic wardens and canteen ladies, complete with hair-nets and tabbards.
The point surely isn't that people just fancy people who wear uniforms. It is not the uniform itself, but rather what it represents, that is important. The reason most people suit a certain type of uniform is simply the sense of heroic achievement and power that comes with it. The reason Ann Summers sells nurses' uniforms rather than Homebase ones is because people like pretending that they are in charge, that they have some sort of important power. Not over your purchase of the latest drill-bit, but over your life. These people are here to protect you. If you like being the patient, it is probably because putting your health in somebody else's hands is slightly scary and thrilling.
At the same time, putting someone in a uniform gives them the appearance of somebody who is confident and competent. For those of us who feel insecure and flustered at the best of times, this is definitely a useful quality in a partner. Imagine having your own hero at your fingertips. This is why , at the end of “An Officer and a Gentleman”, Richard Gere walks on in a smart-looking white Navy officer's uniform and literally sweeps Debra Winger off her feet. Had he been wearing an old pair of jeans and a sweaty t-shirt, the scene would have been far less effective. He would just have been a normal person then, rather than the perfect romantic hero that people, especially women, grow up idealising.
While most of us quickly realise that our heroes and heroines do not need to wear uniforms or have obviously heroic jobs, some people would clearly still like to focus their dating attentions on this rather narrow market. I can't help but wonder whether the users of uniformdating.com would be bitterly disappointed if they went out on a date with a “nurse”, only to find the only uniform she owned was a slightly too-small nylon Ann Summer's one. Conversely, who amongst us, who wear uniforms in their job would be happy dating someone who (originally) only liked you for your uniform?
Still, I felt decidedly giddy a couple of years ago when I had to help a young, uniformed fireman give me a DNA sample (by spitting in a tube – very un-sexy). I felt even more awkward because his colleagues were standing near us, making fun of his inability to spit quickly. Clearly, the uniform effect doesn't really die off – even for happily married, otherwise sensible women. On the other hand, I recently encountered a disarmingly handsome pest control guy – and his uniform was definitely not sexy. What it boils down to is the person inside the uniform – whether they are an air stewardess or a mascot monkey in a dress. However, should you happen to have an old, white Naval Officer's uniform lying around, feel free to pass it on to me...
Tuesday 9 July 2013
How come I wore that?!
Imagine the scene: It is ca. 1988 and, aged 12, I am about to make yet another 80s fashion mistake. I decide that not only are braces a brilliant idea, I really ought to own 2 pairs, because one just wasn't enough. So, I have pale, sickly green ones, and dark purple & black checked ones. As this was the 80s, I obviously don't use them to hold up my trousers. Instead, I cleverly wear them hanging down around my waist - thus ensuring that I either look as though I can't dress myself, or like I have rushed out of the toilet, or perhaps I just look like a fashion victim. I am not sure which is worse.
Fast forward a few years to 1992, and I am on a class trip to Greece. Slightly self-consciously, I don my new leggings for the first time. They look magnificent, but can I carry off red, orange, yellow, green and pink vertical stripes? My friend and I walk down the hotel corridor to another room, and knock. The girl answering the door takes one wide-eyed, shocked look at me, before exclaiming "Oh my God!" with a broad smile. I never wore the damn things again.
It is 1998, I am 22, and for the past few years, I have tried to look sexy. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to do that, which means that I am the proud owner of a blue, sparkly, see-through t-shirt and a short black skirt, which I wear when I go clubbing. I imagine this outfit makes me look attractive and fun. Wearing it, I dance in what I hope is a seductive manner. In reality, I look like a demented prostitute, smiling inanely at my boyfriend while dancing awkwardly. Just as well I never tried to make a living from my moves. Quite why he put up with the embarrassment is a mystery. As we have not yet married, he can easily escape. However, he stays put.
It is 2013 and I love my Danish pyjama trousers. When I bought these in 2010, they were the height of fashion there, so I was embarrassed to buy them, but knew that most people in England would not realise that they were so trendy in Denmark. I just don't want to look like a slavish follower of fashion, but I fell in love with this style. And I like to think they suit me. So I feel somewhat deflated when my toddler stops, mid-cry and whimpers: "Mummy, you are still wearing your pyjamas." This wouldn't be so bad, but she is the second person to say that.
A far less flattering pyjama trend is the current fad of onesies for adults. They look comfortable, and perhaps if I wore one, I could more easily get away with some of my more childish behaviour: Looking like an over-sized toddler, who could possibly be mad at me? However, this is one trend that really should have stayed in the bedroom: How do you go to the toilet in them? Do you have to awkwardly hold on to the top half of your outfit as it dangles round your waist, hoping the sleeves don't drag on the urine-stained floor of the public toilet you may find yourself in? Worse, as a friend pointed out, they are impractical for children who need the toilet, as it takes ages to undress. I realised adults must have the same problem: Imagine really needing to pee (in the way you only do when you realise you are finally very close to the toilet). There you are, desperately struggling to get the blasted thing off, getting tangled in it and falling over, hitting your head on the toilet in the process. Fashion victim indeed.
Image credit: http://theonepieceblog.com/2011/05/robbie-williams-loves-his-onesies/
Fast forward a few years to 1992, and I am on a class trip to Greece. Slightly self-consciously, I don my new leggings for the first time. They look magnificent, but can I carry off red, orange, yellow, green and pink vertical stripes? My friend and I walk down the hotel corridor to another room, and knock. The girl answering the door takes one wide-eyed, shocked look at me, before exclaiming "Oh my God!" with a broad smile. I never wore the damn things again.
It is 1998, I am 22, and for the past few years, I have tried to look sexy. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to do that, which means that I am the proud owner of a blue, sparkly, see-through t-shirt and a short black skirt, which I wear when I go clubbing. I imagine this outfit makes me look attractive and fun. Wearing it, I dance in what I hope is a seductive manner. In reality, I look like a demented prostitute, smiling inanely at my boyfriend while dancing awkwardly. Just as well I never tried to make a living from my moves. Quite why he put up with the embarrassment is a mystery. As we have not yet married, he can easily escape. However, he stays put.
It is 2013 and I love my Danish pyjama trousers. When I bought these in 2010, they were the height of fashion there, so I was embarrassed to buy them, but knew that most people in England would not realise that they were so trendy in Denmark. I just don't want to look like a slavish follower of fashion, but I fell in love with this style. And I like to think they suit me. So I feel somewhat deflated when my toddler stops, mid-cry and whimpers: "Mummy, you are still wearing your pyjamas." This wouldn't be so bad, but she is the second person to say that.
A far less flattering pyjama trend is the current fad of onesies for adults. They look comfortable, and perhaps if I wore one, I could more easily get away with some of my more childish behaviour: Looking like an over-sized toddler, who could possibly be mad at me? However, this is one trend that really should have stayed in the bedroom: How do you go to the toilet in them? Do you have to awkwardly hold on to the top half of your outfit as it dangles round your waist, hoping the sleeves don't drag on the urine-stained floor of the public toilet you may find yourself in? Worse, as a friend pointed out, they are impractical for children who need the toilet, as it takes ages to undress. I realised adults must have the same problem: Imagine really needing to pee (in the way you only do when you realise you are finally very close to the toilet). There you are, desperately struggling to get the blasted thing off, getting tangled in it and falling over, hitting your head on the toilet in the process. Fashion victim indeed.
Image credit: http://theonepieceblog.com/2011/05/robbie-williams-loves-his-onesies/
Tuesday 2 July 2013
How come my toaster loves me?
Perhaps you have never asked yourself that question. I know I haven't. But objectum sexuality (a strong emotional and sometimes sexual desire to have relationships with inanimate objects), is very much a reality for some. Sadly, some objectophiles could never even imagine having people are friends and lovers. Some also believe that the objects are capable of feelings and desires. Just as well really - if I was in love with my toaster, I would prefer to think the feeling was mutual.
Erika Eiffel is a high-profile objectophile, or object-sexual (OS). For 3 years after meeting the object of her affection, she visited it for weeks at a time, spending her days touching it. As you can perhaps guess, she took the surname of her partner, when they married: That's right, she is Mrs. Eiffel Tower. Erika has been unfaithful, however - she has been seeing the Berlin Wall behind Eiffel's back. She currently lives next to the remains of the wall - her greatest love. It makes me feel kind of guilty about ignoring the tiny piece of it on our window-sill.
Still, according to Ms Eiffel, objectum sexuals can have relationships with both male and female objects at the same time. I suppose it is easier to have an open relationship with someone who can't complain. So, toaster, I am seeing the spice-rack too! Don't ask me how they sex the objects - your guess is as good as mine.
Erika has set up an OS organisation called OS Internationale. According to their Facebook page - (https://www.facebook.com/OS.Internationale/info) although their community mainly experience mutual love between a person and the object, there are cases of unrequited love. How depressing would that be?! Your garden fence rejecting you. Interestingly, OS internationale claim to be discovering that a large number of objectophiles have Asperger's Syndrome (a condition on the autistic spectrum). As the site points out, perhaps the typical Asperger's difficulties in relating to people, mean that they find it easier to have relationships with objects. Some objectophiles are in relationships with actual people though, so they share their love between both.
A blogger called MD Lynn described how her young Asperger's nephew has 2 objects that he always carries with him to feel safe. She added that most people feel comfort at seeing familiar landmarks when approaching home after a long journey and suggests that objectophiles are merely maginifying those normal feelings. This seems to make sense, though nobody knows what that process involves.
If you prefer your objects to be more humanoid, perhaps the Real Doll holds more appeal. For a mere £4000, you could be the lucky owner of one of these mamas.
Davecat - who appeared in a programme about them called "Guys and Dolls", lives at home with his parents and is in a relationship with a Real Doll. He states: "I think the thing my father finds really difficult about my relationship with Chichang is the fact that she is not alive, she is not a human being." Confusingly, he enjoys looking at her in the early morning, and feels that she looks back at him. "It is the difference between being alone and lonely" and he rather touchingly adds later, "we are always there for each other".
As seen, Davecat and many other owners become very emotionally attached to the dolls. This makes sense, as the programme suggests they are mainly used by people who have problems connecting with other humans. One 39 year old customer enthusiastically explains that unlike women he has known, the Real Dolls will not let him down or use him. Most doll users do not have girlfriends, but some do.
"Guys & Dolls" also features Everard, who drolly remarks that he and his doll had fun that morning. He checked and yes, she is still sleeping (she has a different face he can put on her when she is awake). Everard can have the last word: "[the dolls] "are very static. They just don't react at all. But if you don't mind that, they are good fun. They are certainly better than going without any female company at all".
Erika Eiffel is a high-profile objectophile, or object-sexual (OS). For 3 years after meeting the object of her affection, she visited it for weeks at a time, spending her days touching it. As you can perhaps guess, she took the surname of her partner, when they married: That's right, she is Mrs. Eiffel Tower. Erika has been unfaithful, however - she has been seeing the Berlin Wall behind Eiffel's back. She currently lives next to the remains of the wall - her greatest love. It makes me feel kind of guilty about ignoring the tiny piece of it on our window-sill.
Still, according to Ms Eiffel, objectum sexuals can have relationships with both male and female objects at the same time. I suppose it is easier to have an open relationship with someone who can't complain. So, toaster, I am seeing the spice-rack too! Don't ask me how they sex the objects - your guess is as good as mine.
Erika has set up an OS organisation called OS Internationale. According to their Facebook page - (https://www.facebook.com/OS.Internationale/info) although their community mainly experience mutual love between a person and the object, there are cases of unrequited love. How depressing would that be?! Your garden fence rejecting you. Interestingly, OS internationale claim to be discovering that a large number of objectophiles have Asperger's Syndrome (a condition on the autistic spectrum). As the site points out, perhaps the typical Asperger's difficulties in relating to people, mean that they find it easier to have relationships with objects. Some objectophiles are in relationships with actual people though, so they share their love between both.
A blogger called MD Lynn described how her young Asperger's nephew has 2 objects that he always carries with him to feel safe. She added that most people feel comfort at seeing familiar landmarks when approaching home after a long journey and suggests that objectophiles are merely maginifying those normal feelings. This seems to make sense, though nobody knows what that process involves.
If you prefer your objects to be more humanoid, perhaps the Real Doll holds more appeal. For a mere £4000, you could be the lucky owner of one of these mamas.
Davecat - who appeared in a programme about them called "Guys and Dolls", lives at home with his parents and is in a relationship with a Real Doll. He states: "I think the thing my father finds really difficult about my relationship with Chichang is the fact that she is not alive, she is not a human being." Confusingly, he enjoys looking at her in the early morning, and feels that she looks back at him. "It is the difference between being alone and lonely" and he rather touchingly adds later, "we are always there for each other".
As seen, Davecat and many other owners become very emotionally attached to the dolls. This makes sense, as the programme suggests they are mainly used by people who have problems connecting with other humans. One 39 year old customer enthusiastically explains that unlike women he has known, the Real Dolls will not let him down or use him. Most doll users do not have girlfriends, but some do.
"Guys & Dolls" also features Everard, who drolly remarks that he and his doll had fun that morning. He checked and yes, she is still sleeping (she has a different face he can put on her when she is awake). Everard can have the last word: "[the dolls] "are very static. They just don't react at all. But if you don't mind that, they are good fun. They are certainly better than going without any female company at all".
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