V is for Valentine's & L is for Lame

I could get on my soap box and complain about how today is just another gimmicky way for retail and restaurants to make money in between Christmas and Easter, and that the lamest people are the women who claim to "hate" Valentine's Day and then all of a sudden "change" their minds when they get themselves a boyfriend; (why don't you just admit that you desperately don't want to be single,) and that whatever you receive today really isn't anything special - it's been purchased under obligation and the expectation that the goods received will be in exchange of certain services.....

......but I won't.

Instead, I present you the unofficial and unsaid rules of Facebook relationship profiling.
(If you're easily offended, please don't read on.)

1. Profile Pictures:

The definition of Profile (n. pro fil): A side view of an object or structure, especially of a human head.

Notice is says "head" and not "heads". A good example would be something like this:

A profile photos means you and not you and your significant other which is generally what most girls seem to do. That's all fine, it's your choice and your profile after all, but notice that your significant other's photo is generally of himself and not of him and you.

Just saying.
Maybe it's time to get rid of one of the heads.

2. Wedding photos quickly become profile pictures for the girls - sometimes within a space of 1 hour of getting married (inclusive of immediate surname change,) and usually no more than 48 hours post the event. The guys usually don't bother. (Geez, I wonder why.....)

3. The unspoken rules of the Wedding Profile Photo:
Having it as your profile pic for 2 months is acceptable, more than 6 months is a little weird, and longer than that warrants the label of sad. If your wedding was 2 year ago well....... I think somebody's mental status may be questionable.

4. Facebook relationship status updates are used as a tool for others to spy. For example, when I bought my Tom Tom back in 2008, I changed my by-line to something like, "Closetblonde is getting acquainted with her new boy called Tom Tom" and as a joke added the status of "in a relationship". The very next day, the lame girl at work went, "Ooooh who are you going out with?"

Before anybody says anything, I only added the lame girl because she wanted to add me and I didn't want to say no at that time because it would have made things at work very awkward. After much contemplation (over shit tv - I think it was "The Biggest Loser" - I watch it to try and scare myself to eat better), I grudgingly added her, placed her on limited profile and then culled her once I left the work place. Heh heh. Don't ask me why she added me on in the first place. It's not as if we saw eye to eye on anything. Oh - and her profile pic was of her wedding. Just saying.

Anybody asking why don't I just set my privacy settings on high so that nobody can find me......call me hopeful, but there's maybe still one or two long lost friends to be found.

5. The "Single" status:
Often put on for a little while when somebody breaks up, but if the single status goes on for what is considered "a little too long", people get embarrassed and do away with the relationship status in its entirety. Being single is a disease, after all. And then all of a sudden when people start seeing somebody, bing! The relationship status comes back up again.

And before anybody starts jumping up and down, no, I have never put a relationship status (apart from the inside joke about being engaged and then the relationship with Tom). I do not believe in putting anything down mainly because people use Facebook to spy. So whether I am seeing someone, married or whatever, the status remains unhidden.

If you want to know you have to ask. I may or may not tell you.

Happy Lame-o Day everyone.
More importantly, it is Chinese New Year and I had nobody of significance to spend that with and eat pineapple tarts and those coconut Chinese biscuits :/

The Email of the Day

S's email in picture form.

When the Festival of Me is Hit in the Guts with Gastro

8:00am - I wake up feeling......strange. It's difficult sensation to describe. I'm not feeling "unwell" per say, it's like a combination of feeling light headed, spacey and just.....strange. Never mind, it's time to press on as I'm going shopping with R. this morning :D

9:45am - On Oxford Street where it's pretty much deserted (score to morning week day shopping!). Even Primark is deserted with clothing neatly in their place on hangers for once!


10:37am - Still feeling spacey, but trying to ignore it. I'm still feeling well enough to poke fun at Peter Andre anyway.


11:05am - We break from shopping to have a cup of tea. I assume that the warm tea might help this strange light headed feeling dissipate, however no such luck.

2:00pm - I spy some brown boots on sale in Benetton. (Obviously nobody else could fit into them). I'm hesitating so we leave them and head to Brown's.

2:27pm - I drag R. back to Benetton as I've changed my mind and have decided to get the boots. Obviously nobody else has managed to fit their feet into these in the meantime.

3:00pm - Champagne time!


Mmmm. Little cakes and sandwiches.


E. looks somewhat scary with that knife.



My smile seems to be getting wider and wider - that strange feeling's taking over me (and no, it's not the champagne).


And out comes the birthday (cup)cake!



After high tea, R. comes back to the flat and we hang around and chat until about 6pm. JY presents me with a gift (how sweet!) and then comments, "Geez, you're so old," but then in the same breath adds that she still perceives me as a kid. Geez, thanks, I guess..... Then JY and I head out for some Malaysian food (where I can only force myself to eat about 1/8th of my meal - why am I feeling so strange?) before heading to the West End to see Avenue Q. Towards the end of the musical, I start to feel an ever growing wave of nausea. We skip dessert and then head straight home and then I head straight to the bathroom.

11:35pm - Feeling better after puking. Maybe I'll be okay now.

2:25am - Fifth trip to the toilet. Who am I kidding? JY has kindly given up her bed, and I'm feeling too sick to refuse. Doctor Aunty in S'pore is consulted and advises JY that I should try and sleep it off, and for JY to make Chinese porridge later that day.

3:40am - The Festival of Me is officially canceled:
No pies and mushy peas @ The Camel (Globe Rd, Bethnal Green, E2 0JD)
No cake @ the Euphorium (79 Upper St Islington, N1 0NU)
No trip to "Pinjabi-land" aka Southall for Mirch Marsala or dessert at Jalebi Junction.
Boooo.

Saturday is spent mostly running to the toilet and dry retching. :/
Sometime in the afternoon, D. calls to see if I am okay.

"So, what's the gossip in London," D. says. "Mmmm?" I say somewhat delirious.
"I heard X. is seeing someone." D. continues. "Do you know who it is?"
"D., how am I suppose to know? I'm not even living in London! You're the one who's here!" I say.
The conversation ends shortly after that as I have to rush to the toilet again.

Sunday: No longer dry retching but feeling shit nonetheless. I spend the morning watching "Come Dine with Me" on Youtube before heading to Stansted to catch my flight.

On the Monday, one of my colleagues asked me whether I had been retching and puking my guts out on the weekend as she and her three young children had all come down with the gastro bug. Then I find out that six other people at work had exactly the same thing over the weekend, and I had to curse them all. It's one thing to be sick in Ireland (I mean, the old man's pub or the cow isn't going anywhere,) it's another when you have to cancel almost your whole entire festival. BOO.

My birthday better be amazing next year :/