Challenge Anneka

Within our house we have the makings of a jazz/folk band. We currently have a trumpet, trombone, cornet, clarinet, saxophone, drum machine, two geetars, a couple of harmonicas and I'm sure there's a tin whistle floating about somewhere. The clarinet is here courtesy of Bert via Young Rooney and the drum machine has been borrowed from the Mandolin Man. Oh, I forgot, we also have a Tibetan singing bowl.

Despite all these musical instruments I still have to listen to what can only be described as noise (oh dear, sounding old again). But seriously, Jamie is getting into a form of music that really is only noise. Horrible screeching, scratchy, electronic sounds that fill him with gleeee but make my ears bleed blood from my brains. He says it's soothing. It's like silence to him. Of course this only proves that he's buck mad and has terrible taste in music.

Like I can talk. I still love Courtney and I still love shrieking along with her like a banshee. The more it hurts your throat the better it is for other people to listen to. One of the reasons I love Courtney is the memories I have of being a youngster. Getting drunk with Dirt Bird, Barbie and Horatio in someone's house, which was still in the process of being built. Running around outside playing Challenge Anneka with Barbie screaming we have to get to that tree! Slipping about and falling in the mud.

Eventually Dirt Bird's little sister found as all lying on the ground looking up at the stars, screaming Hole songs. Me and Horatio were meant to stay at Dirt Bird's house that night but were driven home by her dad for being naughty. It was tough stifling our giggles in the car and when we got to Horatio's we crawled up the stairs in drunken hysterics tramping mud all over the carpet. I never laughed so much in my life.

Would You Shoot This Bear?

Should this polar bear be put out of it's misery and shot? A group of animal rights' activists seem to think so. I've been reading this story and beginning to wonder if some people just like having a moral debate for the hell of it.

Do you think, in the cases of children being reared by wolves, that the wolves all sat around wondering if they should just rip the child's throat out and eat him for dinner to 'put him out of his misery' so that he wouldn't be dysfunctional when being integrated into human society? I think they just went with their instincts. Is it not the animal rights' activists who claim that humans and animals have equal rights? Humans are humans and animals are animals but sometimes they intertwine and become humanals. Is that not ok?

I for one think it would be a pure sin to shoot this polar bear. It is healthy and and it's upbringing is not necessarily going to cause it suffering in later life. I watched a man on TV rear bear cubs and human and bear interact magnificently together. If polar bear wants, it can come live with me.

The Shame

Me and Jamie have been helping Holly ze Cat set up her Myspace account. I've been so busy helping her that I've neglected my own wee blog. Not that there's much to report. Holly probably has more going on her life than I do. The weekend was shameful. Not a tap of booze was lipped on St. Paddy's day. On Sunday poor mum had to settle with a messenger (in the form of Jamie) telling her, Happy Mother's day, sorry Hannah hasn't got you a card or a present but she's useless and has no ability to forward plan for such occasions.

In fact, rather than getting roaring drunk on Saturday, me and Jamie spent the day furiously cleaning the house as someone was coming to view it. This involved a lot of clearing out. Things that we save up to be recycled but never actually get round to recycling. I had a couple of bin bags full of clothes for charity. We also had a few bin bags full of bottles and 6 bin bags full of paper to be recycled. It made me feel bad that there was a whole forest in our house. I feel good that it's being recycled but the fact that people can ever accumulate so much paper in the first place is amazing. Most of it was newspapers and tat mags but a lot of it was junk mail and rubbish leaflets they stick through your door. This is what we cut down our oxygen supply for. Bits of rubbish with rubbish on them.

Anyway, it's crap having people come look at your house. It forces you to do housework and all for the sake of 10 minutes. You feel like an idiot pretending to make the house seem nice when really you couldn't give a rat's ass.

Decisions Decisions

A vacancy for a senior sales position has opened up at work. I'm umming and aahing about whether or not to apply for it. I know I am capable of doing the job but I also know that that wouldn't necessarily mean I would get the position. My reasons for not wanting to do it would be that I don't plan for a future career in retail and I'd have to work Saturdays. I also don't know if I would feel comfortable telling my peers what to do. I like my work comrades and would hate for them to resent me if I was to be bossing them around. At the same time I know the staff on my floor are competent and wouldn't need too much bossing around. But I like the dynamics as they are. Hate the work but I like my place within it.

Reasons to go for it would be that it would look good on my CV whether I have a future in retail or not. I've been there a year and a half now and it would look good if I moved up rather than being there 2 years and going nowhere. Obviously an increased wage would help and I know that the girls I work with would rather that I was bossing them around than someone who they didn't get on with. That's not even to say that I would be bossy. I'm just scared that I might be. When I asked the girl who has been promoted from senior sales if I should apply for it she said she had thought of me but she wondered if I would be authoritative enough. She said I should definitely consider it even just to get the practice with the interview.

I think the thing that puts me off the most is the worry that if I did get the position I wouldn't be very good at it. At the minute, as it is, I'm excellent at my job. Although I hate working for a company like them I can't help but take pride in a job well done. I like to be praised and they praise me a lot.

I suppose if I got the position and hated it it would only be short term. It would help me save quicker to get away quicker. I suppose it's not the end of the world if I'm not brilliant at it. It's not my dream in life so it shouldn't bother me. I don't mind change I just hate making the decisions that lead to it.

Pah!

I feel old. It could be to do with the fact that I work with a lot of 16 and 17 year olds. I get on great with them and think of most of them as older than they are. That is until I mention a TV program from when I was a kid and they go 'Huh?' It used be me going 'Huh?'. When did that change? I feel old. I mean, these are people who don't ever remember Snickers being Marathons! Or they don't remember Secret bars or Vice Versas. I bet some of them don't even know who Jason Donavon is.

I especially feel old living in my hometown. Before Ballymena had the big posh new cinema we used to watch our films and eat our popcorn at the State cinema, which had only 2 screens. I was chatting to some of the girls at work and one of them piped up 'Oh aye, the state cinema. I was there once'

Once. I was there a million times! I watched Ghost there! Back to the future! I've only been to the new one once. How old am I?

Ancient.

No Prospects In Prospect Place

I'll be 25 this April and have already moved house about 18 times. I haven't lived in 18 different houses but have packed my bags and moved at least 18 times. I seem to spend my life packing my belongings in a bag and unpacking them again. I am the bag lady. Perhaps that's why I found it so easy to live in a tent for 11 weeks. Perhaps that's why I never get attached to a house. Perhaps that's why I never feel settled. Maybe that's why I want to jump ship and do one so often. I suppose it's why the idea of traveling appeals to me so much.

The reason I'm mentioning it is because on the 10th April this year I'll be packing my bags again and moving out of this house. I'll be going to live with Mum and Bert again and Jamie is going back to live with his mum. We'll be moving out on the exact same date as we moved in last year. The reason being that we just couldn't afford it. Well we could but only just about. There was never any money left over to save for travels. We were working all the hours God sent and surviving, only just. It became depressing. It makes me wonder how other couples survive. It makes me wonder how people can afford to have families these days. It makes me wonder what was the point in going to university, racking up loads of debt that can never be paid off because a degree does not guarantee a decent job. It really makes me wonder.

Candy Strippers

I was showing Jamie and Peppy le Peu my new shirt for work. It's red and white vertical stripes so I said to them Look, I'm like a candy striper. Jamie agreed and said something about me working in an ice cream van. I started to doubt myself. Did I even know what a candy striper was? I asked Jamie and Lee if they knew. They didn't. I asked them if they had ever heard of one. They hadn't. They thought I had made the term up. I told them what I thought it was, a girl who worked in a hospital, helping out with the patients. They didn't believe me. I got Jamie to look it up on the internet and lo and behold, I was right. He found this.

It took Jamie a good ten minutes to piece it all together. The red and white striped uniform, why they were called candy stripers. When he seen this
version of the costume he wondered if maybe they weren't called candy stripers but candy strippers.

Bitcher

Bitcher
Originally uploaded by hootchinhannah.

I thought my blog was looking rather bleak like the month of February. A perfect excuse to post a picture of the scritchy scratchy bitcher when she was in better health.

I'm already regretting my last post after having a quick squizz at site meter. There are some things people look up on the internet that wee innocent girls like me should never be subjected to. And there are some people who will be sorely disappointed when they're looking for bum pleasure and they stumble across my site.

Get Your Finger Out Of My Mouth!

Jamie thinks it's dead funny to poke his finger in my mouth when I'm trying to yawn. I hate this as a yawn should be satisfying and a finger is just off-putting. I told Jamie it was like me poking my finger up his bum when he was in the middle of his morning pooh. He disagreed. I told him it was the same thing, a finger being poked in someone's orifice while they were in mid bodily function. He still disagreed. He thinks because he was right about the dog's life debate that he is always right now. There's no telling him.

Gracie Threw

I was reading one of those magazines that offer mail order goods at bargain prices. You know, the kind of magazine that advertises special thermal slippers and insoles that remember the shape of your foot. I love them. I can never believe the amazing stuff they sell that never seems to make it to the mainstream market. Like shoe stretching cream. Being a broad-footed person I would find something like this very useful. Other useful things include a device for training your dog to stop barking so much. I would hardly need one but I might suggest that Zoe gets one for Gracie. Oh! while we're on the subject of Gracie.

When Bert was leaving Gracie over to stay with her other grandparents they asked if she'd had her dinner. 'She has', says Bert, 'Oh and I think she's going to throw it up now'. And with that she started heaving and apparently threw up a cylindrical shaped mass of stuff that was practically as big as her. They all just looked at it in shock and then Granda H asks 'What is that?'

At first Bert was just as dumbfounded as they were and then he twigged and tells them that he threw a lot of mashed potato out for the hens and he'd seen Gracie over chomping at it. 'She must have ate the whole lot' says Bert. At which point he made a swift exit.

Dog's Lives and 42p Mix-Ups

Jamie and I are in the middle of a very serious debate at the minute. It involves the meaning and the origin of the saying It's a dog's life. Jamie takes it to mean that it's a bad life. I take it to mean that it's a good life. Who wouldn't want to be a dog? Running around chasing your tail, and balls and cats, going for walks, sleeping in front of the fire. Sounds like pure bliss to me.

I asked some girls in work. The first agreed with Jamie. Damn! Jamie 2 Hannah 1. But the second girl I asked agreed with me. Yay! Jamie 2 Hannah 2. I asked May and she agreed with Jamie. Boo! Jamie 3 Hannah 2. And May is all-knowing so it's not looking good for me. Then I remembered the entrance page for Zoe's old website. She says it's a Dog's life and shows a picture of 2 dogs looking very happy indeed. So she obviously agrees with me. Yay! Jamie 3 Hannah 3. And Zoe is also all-knowing. It doesn't mean I've won the debate but it does mean that I haven't lost it yet.

Last week I went to the local newsagents to spend my last 40p on penny sweets. Normally I count my own mix-up and tell the person at the counter how much it is. On this particular occasion the old fella that owned the shop was in. He obviously didn't like the look of me as when I gave him my bag he got a bowl out and started to count every single last sweet. Either I can't count or I'm a very bad girl but he counted 42p and I said that I thought it was 40. So he took 2 sweets out of the bag. I was raging. Raging because I'm 24 coming 25 and I was caught red-handed shoplifting 2p worth of sweets. I'll never work again. So I have vowed the next time he is in the shop I will be getting myself 5 pounds worth of penny sweets and as he is counting them out I will be doing all that I can to distract him. And when he's finished counting out all the sweets I'll tell him I don't want them anymore. I'll tell him that his sweets have obviously been lying arounf for a decade and they taste like shit anyway.

Problems In Communication

Tiscali, goddam them, have been toying with our minds. Our internet connection is very temperamental at the moment and when it goes off we don't know what to do with ourselves. I'm not as bad as Jamie. I'm reading a good book at the minute The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho - 'tis actually the first book I've read since reading the book that this blog was named after. Bad, I know. But poor Jamie is beside himself when it goes off.

It is cruel though. When abody has no TV ariel and the internet is their only form of entertainment. We have watched all the good movies there is to watch from the video shop and even if we hadn't we have no money to rent them. So a big fat f**k off to Tiscali for the deprivation they have caused us.

It first went off at the weekend. Jamie did some investigating and found that most of the Ballymena area was off-line. We sat tight and waited. It came back on a couple of days later. Yeah!. We celebrated with Neighbours and the wee Yodelling girl on You Tube. The next day it went off again. Jamie phoned up and they said blah blah blah we'll get an engineer out tomorrow. The next day it came back on. Yeah! We celebrated with Neighbours and silly games. The next day it was off again. So Jamie phoned again. Same old story. That was last night. It's on again today. We'll celebrate with Neighbours but inside we'll be cursing Tiscali and holding our breath for it to go off again.

Ta

Ok, 'tis about time I thanked everyone for their lovely Christmas gifts. It was a funny one this year and I got most of my presents after I'd actually seen the people who gave them to me. So I would've have thanked them then but wouldn't have known what I was thanking them for. If that makes sense. Even if it doesn't as long as those who know they need to be thanked are thanked.

Damn! I just inhaled coffee and coughed it all over the keyboard. I bet that looked really sexy.

Big Brother is finally over. I'm glad that Jade and her 2 wenches acted the way they did. Although those girls claim they are not racist they have shown how people use cultural differences to alienate and isolate someone. They did this to Shilpa because they were jealous of her not because she was of a different race. Either way, their behaviour was unacceptable. I'd like to think if they were bullying Shilpa without any references to her culture that they would've been booted out anyway. Sadly, I don't think it would've been the case. So when it came to the final there was the gay Welsh man, 2 Americans, one white and one afro-carribean, and an Indian woman. Do the British public not like the British celebrities? Are British celebs (if we could even call them that) just an embarassment to us?

Driver's Ed

Bertram has very kindly offered to pay for driving lessons for me. For a while now I have been using the excuse that I can't afford them but now that burden has been lifted thanks to Bertie Boy. I am excited and nervous. Driving is something that I hadn't thought about doing 'til sometime in my 30's. Although I knew it was something I should do sooner rather than later.

So I've decided to be very dedicated. I went to get my form for my provisional licence today and passed by through Eason's on the way. I saw that they were having a book clear out and had a wee rummage through. I noticed a driver's theory book and thought I'd get it and start swotting up straight away. This time in 3 months time I will be an expert on the theory of driving a large vehicle. It will come in handy for when I become a long distance lorry driver.

Leap Year Babies

Between me, Jamie and Nelly's other half, not one of us knows anybody born on the 29th of February. We tried to work out the probability of it when we were drunk but neither me or Bert has a very good head for maths. Where are all the Leap Year babies? And don't they feel slightly cheated? Do they celebrate their birthday on the 28th of February or the first of March? If I was born on the 29th of February I'd have a huge party every leap year. I'd get all the other Leap Year babies together and have a massive celebration.

I started work at 6 this morning for a stocktake. It's always hateful getting out of bed but it was nice to get home at 3 this afternoon. It was actually day light and though it was bitterly cold the sun was shining. I could almost convince myself it was summer.

Nelly's kitten is adorable. I want to believe that's it's my kitten too but apart from attacking my alien fingers she doesn't bother much with me. It's because she's too busy winding up the dogs. We thought Harry was one helluva cat the way he got on with the dogs but he was nothing compared to this little minx and Harry didn't have an alsation to contend with. If Holly isn't getting a rise out of Bonnie by clawing her paws she'll stick her head in the alsation's mouth. She'll lie in a plastic bag hung on a door handle like she 's chilling on a hammock. She does great wee dances and leaps in the air. But she's not Harry. Harry was a wee cootchie cat who'd snuggle with you. He had a beautiful purr and Holly never seems to purr. Which is a shame because that's one of the best things about a cat. Holly lets out bad-tempered mean growls if you even so much as brush up against one of the hairs on her tail. But she's still class.

Bring on the longer days so I can get my camera out.

Bank Charges

Anybody who has received bank charges, over the 10 pounds, in the last 5 years might find this site useful. Apparently it was illegal all along for banks to charge over a certain amount and this site gives you a step by step guide on how to go about claiming money back from your bank. The same applies to credit card charges, although the maximum amount they can charge is 12 pounds but anything over that can be claimed.

So there you go. We always knew banks were robbing bastards.

Why Dirt Bird Is A Dirt Bird

If you were wondering why Dirt Bird is called Dirt Bird this is the reason.


But it's not nice to say that about Dirt Bird, she's lovely really. I miss her loads and wish she'd come back to scabby Ballymena where she belongs.

January 24th

I've been reading in the papers that January is officially the shittiest month of the year, January the 24th being the worst day of the year. It's exactly one month after Christmas so the high we get from that has completely worn off by then. It's 3 weeks after New Year when people start to cave in and break their resolutions. It's a few days 'til pay day and everyone's skint. So I've decided that January 24th will be an excellent day for me. I didn't get that high at Christmas so it's already worn off. I didn't make any resolutions to break and so I don't feel guilty. I get paid on the 22nd and will be living in the lap of luxury by the 24th. But I still say roll on March.

Everybody Needs Them

Last night Jamie and I foolishly watched endless clips of Neighbours episodes that have already been shown in Australia. We spoiled the next 6 months viewing in one hour. It was too much to take in. All the storylines, all the drama. I felt physically ill after. Jamie felt guilty. The last cliff hanger involved somebody getting shot.

I suppose you're all dying to know what happens?

Sky gives birth to her baby but someone kidnaps it. Was it Stingray when he was pissed and emotional? No! Was it Carmella's mad cousin when she was mad? No! Was it Dyldog because he thought the baby was his? Yes! And she is his. One minute she's Dyldo's, next minute she's Stingray's, but really she's Dyldo's. So Sky's reporting Doc. Karl for malpractice and making her think that the baby was Stingray's. Stingray's family are suing the Doc for causing him severe emotional distress when he already had enough on his plate with the old alcohol addiction and falling in love with minors.

Mishka comes back from Russia to find her best Ozzy man, Lou Bear, but is deported 10 minutes later for trying to bribe the Immigration Officer. Paul Robinson proposes to Lyn, she accepts, they say I do and 10 minutes later he's telling her that he'll only be cheating on her in 6 weeks time and she's better off without him. So Stephie punched him for being a bastard.

Paul's daughter Elle is feeling guilty about making Mad Max think he was going mad. Poor Stephie is sad and lonely because Mad Max has done a runner on her but luckily she has Toadie to keep her warm and cozy.

Katya, the silly moo cow, is spoiling eveything for everybody. Evil Rob Rob should've done the job properly and got rid of her. And Elle for that matter. It's all Katya's fault that Mad max went mad and ran away. If he hadn't of fallen for him and become so needy of him he wouldn't have accidentally ran over Elle's brother Cameron. Therefore Elle wouldn't have sought revenge on Max, making him think he was going crazy. So Katya, the silly moo cow, robbed a bank a few years back and now an evil guy called Guy is blackmailing her. She tries to shoot him but she gets shot. This guy called Guy doesn't like the cut of her gib and so he holds her, Stephie, Toadie and Zeke the Freak hostage until Katya coughs up some serious dollar. This all leads to poor Doc Karl getting shot. Poor Karl who's just been sued and lost his job.

Ray The Mountain

I'm ditching Gomez at my wedding for this guy. Ray Lamontagne. He's a bit like Jesus 'cos he used to be a carpenter but he's a lot more sexy than Jesus and with a voice that could melt butter. If he's not careful he can sound a bit like Michael Bolton but that's just when he's doing the schmoozy numbers. Jamie and I are thinking of seeing him at the Waterfront Hall next Saturday. It's been so long since either of us was at a gig. Zoe's beloved Dive Boy is also a fan and I asked him if he wanted to come along with us. He asked me could I not just bring him to back to their house. I told Dive Boy not to worry he'd be playing at my wedding in the woods. With Jose Gonzalez.

This is a good un too.