Wednesday, 7 April 2010


A collection of oddbabblings, anecdotes and misdemeanors from the last few months...

On Becoming a Grown-up

I recently had to attend my first multi-disciplinary meeting in my newish job. This meant that I had to persuade other adults that I am competent and professional, whereas thus far, I have only had to convince 6-11 year old children, who are frankly gullible. I was very disappointed therefore, to find that during my cycle ride in, a piece of debris flew into my eye, meaning that I was compulsively winking throughout the meeting. The middle-aged women around the table must have thought I was either some kind of creepy flirt, or unusually moved (I was also crying, but only out of one eye), or secretly trying to tell all of them something that they couldn't quite decipher. Either way, it wasn't how I had hoped it would go.

Cheap Seats

Someone I know was delighted to have been given tickets to go and see the famous Riverdance show. Unfortunately, the seats were in a very poor position, meaning she could only see the dancers from the waist up. Thus she was able to watch hours of people wobbling everso slightly while looking straight ahead and holding their arms tightly by their sides.

Unprofessional Footwear

Since I am a counsellor, a friend bought me socks with the following statements on them, to help my clients to know that I'm really there for them:
"I'm not listening!"
"I understand, I just don't care"


After a particularly long day (in fact, almost a duplicate of the one described in my last post) I was waiting to be picked up from a distant station, looking at some trees with lights that flashed in different patterns - some fast, some slow, some sporadic. I found myself auto-empathising and thinking "I see, so you're flashing quite fast now. Perhaps you're feeling quite frantic? OK, and slower, yes. I sense there's a calmness between us now." I genuinely had these actual thoughts about lights on trees. That's tiredness.

Sweet Nothings

Oddbabble: I love you.
Companion: Wow, I think I have 5 layers on today.

Evidence for my Sanity

Genuine quotes from the 'Stickers Are Evil' group on Facebook:

"Stickers are the most disgusting thing in the world, I want to be sick if I am near them."

"yess! finally stickoraphobians unite! i get teased so much but really, IT'S A REAL THING! i demand some friggin respect..."

"i really hate stickers! they make me vomit and cry, ewwwww!!!!!!! ;("

"no way!!! i thought i was on my own. they make me sick! especially when they are curled up. makes my stomach chern!!!"

"The sight of a sticker peeling off with fuzz from a shirt stuck to it makes me nauseous. And little kids with stickers on their faces. It makes me gag EVERY time. I never can understand how ANYONE allows stickers to touch them."

"Stickers make me vomit too!!! I think they are the nastiest things ever. I have to cut off the stickers from apples, I can’t peel them off. I usually buy apples without stickers so I don’t have to deal with gagging when i see the sticker."

"stickers r fricken disgustingg, especially the thought of getting them in my hair, it makes me cringe just to think about it"

I have to stop now because I'm making myself feel sick, but I think I've made my point. I am right.

Childhood Sweethearts

These are the names of the teddys I had when I was a little girl. They seemed genuinely straightforward and logical to me at the time:

Petrol Girl
Kevvy Boobs

Bum Geography

During the snowy season, I fell flat on my bum. The bruise the next day was in the shape of a perfect map of Australia, complete with New Zealand next to it, to scale.

Travel Sickness

Has anyone been to Gatwick Airport recently? While waiting for a delayed plane, I was horrified to be 'entertained' by The Gatwick Factor (like the X Factor, but cleverly renamed, and without any of the elements of enjoyment). They piped it out so loudly that there was literally no escape as we were already airside. I had to endure an elderly lady singing Hey Big Spender, complete with 'sexy' dancing. Old lady, I do not want to know with whom you may or not pop your cork. Frankly, I don't want to think about your cork at all.

Oddbabble: Writes this kind of crap down in her little book.