Thérésa Hedges's Blog, page 2

March 6, 2024

If only – aka More on Vampire Myths

I realise I’ve spent a while talking about all stuff human but it’s been ages since I’ve said anything much about the world of vampires. Well, I say world, it’s probably more a windy coorner of a long-abandoned Street in a town that’s nobody ever heard in a country where nobody goes.

I talked about stuff like coffins, reflections, biting etc ages ago, back in early 2020. I meant to follow up fairly immediately. Honest. And then the rest of 2020 really kicked in. With hobnail boots. And then I forgot. And four years passed. Because they do.

Carpe Diem

No, I don’t mean “Fish of the Day”. Hahaha! I mean seizing the moment. The trouble is, actual moments feel too small to simply grab. If a vampire decides to ‘seize the day’ (sorry, that’s the proper translation of the phrase), they’d probably end up seizing a whole week. Or month, possibly. It’s like trying to grab a tomato pip out of a bowl of soup. Or that weird little fleck that always seems to end up in your drink and no matter how hard you try, it always manages to duck out of the way.

Time passing. Yes. think that’s something right there. Ever heard a song called “Enjoy Yourself, It’s Later Than You Think”? So I guess that’s a thing with humans too? Time passing by without realising? I know that it’s a bit of a thing when somebody says they’ll be ‘five minutes’ but they end up taking way, waaaay longer, but that’s not the same, is it? Or is it? I’d be curious to hear your (polite) opinion!

Yes to reflections, no to coffins and aargh to sunlight (though no sparkling or turning to dust). A heck no to turning into animals (I wish, though) and a who knows to the immortality thing. If I could turn into any animal though, it’d have to be a dog. Because that’s the only way I could have the last word in a conversation with the furbaby.

Or how about being able to change into a wolf?

That’d be great if you got caught short needing the loo. I mean, you can go and cock your leg anywhere. Or pop a squat, depending on your plumbing). Nobody’s going to argue with a wolf, are they? Apart from that guy in that film who apparently punches a wolf right before the end credits roll. Except that apparently he doesn’t. Which is the only reason a lot of people went to see the film, I’m told.

But how about bats? I mean, can you imagine how handy it would be to be able to just explode into a cloud of bats whenever you got stuck in a socially stressful situation? Or a really boring conversation? Or both at the same time (it happens to me a lot) Because the ground never does open up and swallow you when you need it to. Just BAT! And you’re out of there.

I feel I’ve been shortchanged a bit on that one too.

Why do fictional vampires get all the cool gimmicks? Nobody mentions the OCD, the generally odd habits, or the crippling social anxiety. Oh no, it’s all “I-vont-to-trink-your-blood”, or Boof! Bat storm or children of the night driving the neighbours crazy with the ‘sweet music’ they’re making.

All that enforced staying away from everyone gave me (and probably everyone else) a lot of time to think. It was quite useful, actually. For a while, it made it easier to hide. For that past year and a half, I was just another person trying to avoid the world. The only problem was, as soon as the world started opening up again, I had to think of some new excuses/reasons to avoid everyone. Especially as a lot of people starting behaving like it had never happened.

If you have any good ones, I’d love to hear them.

Still got questions?

Then just leave them in the comments! I will definitely answer. And it won’t take me 4 years. Honest.

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

View more on Thérésa Hedges's website »

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Published on March 06, 2024 13:00

February 7, 2024

Hell is other people

I don’t people.

At all.

And I definitely don’t adult.

Probably for the best. I switch off when humans start talking about stuff. And the butterfly brain of a vampire doesn’t make it easy to pretend, either. I do try to be interested and listen, but (whiny voice) it’s so hard!

Here are my top 5 (possibly 6) gahhh moments. Just things that cause me issues. Some are to do with other people, while others are down to the quirks of being a vampire. I’m guessing that humans have them too. Let me know yours in the comments!

1. Bored Meeting

I do recall one large place I worked at a few decades ago where I had to attend interminable meetings. I worked a couple of days a week and wouldn’t you just guess it – the meetings were always magically booked for days that I wasn’t working. Even when I changed days to accommodate them.

Big mistake. Huge.

Now, I’ve often heard humans talk about the meeting that ‘should have been an email’, so it’s obviously a thing. Because that was exactly the case for me. There was never anything that applied directly to me in any of those meetings.

This analogy should give you an idea… imagine, if you will, a toddler with an attention span that’s actually in negative numbers of minutes, tied (with incredibly scratchy ropes) into a chair made out of rusty spikes, with searchlights in their face (that conference room was bright), and Stadium-suitable speakers on either side of the chair (the accoustics in there were awful).

Now imagine said toddler being made to watch a six hour video of wheat farming in the early 1800s. And the video is not in any language that the toddler can understand.

That’s what those meetings were like. Oh, and the toddler is supposed to a) stay awake, b) look interested and c) be constantly ready for an instant pop quiz for fear of public humiliation. Can anyone relate? I’m sure somebody can.

Meetings always ran on, despite the boss’s initial statement of “just a quick one today” or “We haven’t got a massive amount to cover so we should be done by 6.” And when it was finally over, just as we’re about to go, someone would always ask a ‘vital’ question. Understandably, everyone’s eyes rolled (mine were practically cartwheeling out of my skull), there were barely-supressed groans and back to our seats we went for another couple of hours. I was often lucky to get home before dark – even in the summer!

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Photo by Rebrand Cities on Pexels.com

As a result, I ended up taking masses of fruit and cookies in with me. Everyone thought I was being really considerate but, seriously, the massive sugar rush was my only hope of staying awake, let alone focus.

Is it just me?

I’m pretty sure it isn’t – for that one at least. I’d love to know if you would have reacted the same way… Let me know in the comments.

Now then, back to my list.

Here we go…

2. Small talk, small minds?

Vampires hate small talk. As do introverts. I’m both, so you can imagine how much I love chit-chat (I’m being sarcastic, just in case anyone was getting confused). Human lives are so short and you waste precious communication time talking about the most trivial of trivialities. It’s cute in a weird way.

At one party that I couldn’t get out of, one woman’s opening question to me was “So, how many children do you have?” When I replied that I didn’t have any, she just looked me up and down and walked off!

I prefer talking to dogs at these things because they ‘re far more interesting than people. With a lot of humans, it seems to be one long round of ‘He-said-she-said’, or they’re talking about kids/shopping/holidays/decorating. And I get bored sooooooo easily!

So, going back to number 1, you can imagine how thrilled I would when in extra time (to use football terminology), the important question was dealt with, then everyone started chatting about all of the above!

I kind of have two modes – run and hide & stand and fight! The first one usually wins. Actually, pretty much always. Probably just as well…

3. Ants in the pants

I have to admit, I did find it incredibly difficult staying in one place for any length of time, so I had to get up and have a jig about every now and then. I wish I didn’t. It annoys me. And even then, when I’m sitting down, I’m still incredibly fidgety! I absolutely have to have something to fidget with, or I get pretty squirmy.

Usually at deeply inappropriate moments.

I was once at a very solemn occasion and the one-note voice of the speaker (who seemed to be trying for the world record of longest speech ever in B-flat) was making my brain burn. I couldn’t fiddle with anything (’cause that would be rude) so without even realizing it, my legs started jiggling. A friend who was sat next to me ended up plonking her very large and heavy handbag on my lap to stop me.

Ow.

I hate answering the phone. I think that’s why only about 2 people actually have my number. And even then, I don’t always answer. I know it may be considered rude, but just because someone rings you, which law says you have to answer? I remember someone (I think it was Stephen Fry) saying that a phone ringing is like the person standing next to you, screaming “TALK TO ME!” repeatedly until you give in and answer.

My voicemail message is quite clear – “Hang up and message me instead.” So, yes, I prefer to text rather than actually talk. Dear me, just the thought of it is making my blood run cold. And it’s already pretty cool to begin with!

Again, I think it’s something to do with hating small talk, but I tend to keep any phones calls to a functional minimum. Perhaps I’ve seen too many thrillers where the police/FBI/etc are trying to trace a phone call. “Keep them talking. We’re nearly there!”

Which leads me nicely onto my final gahhh moment (for this time)

5. The leaves-me-cold call

I now have a phone that will make cold callers jump through hoops and hopefully give up. Non-human (and by that, I mean robots) callers will need to do something on the phone at their end to get through. But being mere software, they have no fingers with which to perform this task. Hey, have one of mine! The middle one isn’t that busy right now!

The problem with asnwering the phone to a human with a script is that they, ironically, behave just like robots. The Terminator comes to mind. Not in an “I’ll be back” killy kind of way, but this quote kind of sums up their steely resolve to sell you something…

“That Terminator is out there! It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop… ever, until you are dead!”
The Terminator (1984)

Except of course, for the dead part. Perhaps “And [they] absolutely will not stop… ever, until you [buy double-glazing/loft insulation]!”

All of which leads me to my final little anecdote. Many years ago, when I didn’t have a phone with caller ID, I had the misfortune to answer the phone to a particularly belligerent telemarketer. It took me a while to work out that they were human, because whenever I tried to get a word in, they continued with their script. It was the aural equivalent of a bulldozer. They were selling conservatories and they were going to keep going until I said yes. I could have hung up but I was a bit rabbit-in-the-headlights, stunned into paralysis by the tsunami of marketing jargon.

So I decided to just go with the flow.

Then at some point in this barrage, I decided to have a bit of fun. I decided to play along, to act my part in their script. After all, I’d tried to be polite. I’d tried to tell them I wasn’t interested. Okay. You’re wasting my time. I’ll waste yours. And I agreed with everything. I could hear the growing excitement in the marketer’s voice (that’s when I realised they were human).

Could they build one any size? Yes.

Anywhere? Yes.

I shared my amazement with advances in building technology. I also expressed the hope that company had plenty of scaffolding. I could hear the marketer almost pass out with excitement at the other end of the phone. They completely dismissed my comment as they demanded my address for a physical visit/quote. I may or may not have given my actual address, but I just had time to add in a little comment of “I’m so excited. I’ll be the only flat (apartment) on the 8th floor with a conservatory.”

They slammed the phone down on me.

Bit rude. Like I said, I have two modes – run and hide & stand and fight, or, in this case, sit and retaliate. It doesn’t happen often. But this is one of the many reasons why vampires avoid human contact. It’s just the way we’re wired.

So, come on, it’s your turn now. Name me one of your gahhh moments. I’d love to know. Leave all the juicy (or not) details in the comments, please!

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

View more on Thérésa Hedges's website »

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Published on February 07, 2024 11:45

January 3, 2024

Self-care is care!

Happy New Year! I hope you’ve all had as good a Christmas/end of year festivities as possible. I know it isn’t always possible, but sending you some vampire-style hugs however well your past few weeks have been.

Have you made any New Year’s resolutions? I sort of did, but I did them back on the 21st of December, aka Yule, which was traditionally the time when such things were done.

You hear so many words, hashtags and phrases that get trotted out round about now. New-Year-New-Me, Gym-Membership-Number, I’m-Never-Getting-That-Drunk-Again… You know the kind of thing.

Add some good to your life – for you.

Because… why do you need to change? Do you need to change? Or are there just things about your life that needs to be tweaked so that they serve you better? Okay, sure, you want to start running/join a gym/take up yoga but why? Is it because you feel they’ll help you ‘fix’ something about you? Or do you really fancy doing them?

There are so many sayings and stories that fit this idea.

“You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

“Self-care isn’t selfish.”

If you have a favourite one, pop it in the comments.

However…

Okay, so that’s adding the good. How about dealing with all the inevitable poopheads and general poopiness that happens in life? Because, let’s face it, life isn’t insta-perfect, is it? What’s that saying about comparing your rough footage to someone else’s showreel? Especially when your rough footage (aka life) is filmed on some crappy handheld device from the last century, and someone else’s showreel (aka…ok, you get the idea) has had filters and special effects and super slick everything thrown at it.

I’m just trying to be a good potato.

I heard this great story from someone who was helping me to deal with the fallout from some particularly toxic people and the poop-storms they kept creating wherever they went. Anyway, the story goes like this. There’s a potato, and it’s trying to potato as hard as it can. But it’s not outside in warm, perfectly drained soil, with all the warmth, sun and care that it needs to be its best self.

It’s locked away in a cupboard, in a dark, dingy cellar. Is it able to grow into a strong, healthy plant. Not really. It tries its utmost, though. It pushes out roots and does its hardest to be the best potato it can be. But unless it’s taken out of that cupboard, out of that cellar, and planted outside in better conditions, it can only do so much. It’s just trying to be a good potato.

Poop happens

You have to be okay with someone else being an a-hole. They’ll never change (probably). You’ll just waste the wearing yourself out (definitely) and what’s to be gained?

To give you an example – many years ago when I was a very young vampire, I hated school. I was bullied. Mercilessly. Shocker, I know. When I left, I carried with me all of the hurt and frustration and general internal sludge that accompanies such treatment. I carried it all with me for years. I dreamed about what I would do or say if ever I met any of them again.

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And I did. one morning, I bumped into one particular bully who’d been leader of the ‘popular’ girls back in the day. Did she recognise me? Eventually (I hadn’t aged like she had – so there was an instant point to me – yay). Did she greet me full of remorse and apologies for how badly she’d treated me?

Nope.

She behaved like we’d been bestest friends in school. All the while she was gushing over me, I felt all that rage and resentment going round and round in circles inside of me. Why did I waste all that time carrying those feelings? She had clearly never given me, or her treatment of me two moments of thought. Gahhhh!

So, to close with another old couple of sayings – Be yourself. Everyone else is taken. And… Those who matter, won’t mind, while those that do mind, don’t matter.

Here’s to a wonderful New Year, wherever you are.

Want to read more of my ramblings? Apparently, these are free if you have something called Kindle Unlimited. Even without, they’re still way cheaper than one of those fancy cups of coffee…

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

View more on Thérésa Hedges's website »

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Published on January 03, 2024 12:00

August 2, 2023

That Time Of Year Again

Yup. It’s summer.

Great.

Grab yourself a cuppa and some biscuits. How are you all? Busy? Making the most of the month with as many barbecues as possible? Kicking back on some beach with sun tan lotion and a good book? Looking forward to autumn?

Possibly not that last one…

Which is your favourite season? Summer isn’t mine. Getting ready to hide away for the summer again. I guess it’s kind of like a reverse hibernation. You know, instead of feeding myself up like a bear then tucking myself in to a nice cave and sleeping through the winter, I usually try to avoid the heat and bright lights of the summer.

Admittedly I don’t sleep through it, but sometimes it’s tempting. If I could get to sleep easily, that is. So, for winter, read summer; for cave, read cooler climate.

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Ah!

Does that mean I can routinely stuff my face for a few weeks beforehand? Probably not. Again, it’s equally tempting. Can you imagine going to your favourite fast food joint, already wrapped up in a sleeping bag, like someone who strayed off the track in a school sack race, only to reappear thirty years later, ravenous.

You order everything on the menu. The server looks over your shoulder to see where the other dozen people are, before giving you your various bags and boxes. You then shuffle carefully away and start munching through your haul. The Very Hungry Caterpillar would be so proud. And then, at home, with a satisfied series of belches, you hunker down and wake up at about half-past February.

Oh well.

A vampire can dream.

But -shock horror – I’m actually staying put for once. Why? Well, partly because I got caught out by the unexpected heat earlier on this year but mostly because where I live is now decidedly un-summery.

Q: How do you know when it’s summer in Wales?

A: The rain is warmer.

And this is why I’m not going anywhere. It’s warm (but bearable). Every day for the past fortnight has been either grey, drizzly, rainy or windy. Or all of them. All at once. Now, I have two settings for my footwear – boots or sandals. Luckily I didn’t pack away my boots. Does anyone else have a similar either/or dichotomy in their footwear?

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Besides, there’s the garden. It’ll need tending. Currently, it’s producing more food than I know what to do with. I wouldn’t want to leave it and come back to find it’s turned into a jungle and I’m spending the rest of the year trying to appease the new insect overlords.

I’m not good with insects. I mean, I don’t go crawling up their legs, do I? And now the neighbours are all aware of my vocal range (about three octaves).

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Anyway, that’s me. I’d love to hear how you spend your summer. Do you go out of your way to find sunshine? Do you take up summer-related pastimes? Let me know in the comments!

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

View more on Thérésa Hedges's website »

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Published on August 02, 2023 12:36

July 3, 2023

Misky Laney Ouse – or Short Rants

Recently ordered a pizza online for the first time since we moved. And of course, for the first time since we have been the hubster went vegan. It’s even got a tracker now that tells you what point your order is at. I think it goes something like this:

Step 1

your order has been received.

Step 2

staff have now taken your order to the kitchen.

Step 3

staff are saying “****ing vegans!”

EDIT: Shortly after finally getting our pizza, we have since noticed that that particular company no longer delivers to our area. We are apparently ‘out of their delivery zone‘. We live less than a mile away.

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Just seen a pick up truck with the license plate T 400. Maybe thinking – is this actually the terminator crossover with Transformers? Or is it just the transport for one of the early terminators? Well, let’s face it – the first terminator was probably mechanical pencil sharpener with a bad attitude.

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I know most people would shout me down for saying this but… I actually kind of miss Lockdown…? I don’t miss Covid 19, mind you. And yes, I did catch it, despite all my efforts. I caught it right at the end. I really don’t like the idea of going back out into places filled with people… especially people who – especially now social distancing is a thing of the past – still don’t get the concept of personal space! Thankfully, I never really needed an excuse to get outside in Nature. “I think that I never shall see a poem lovely as a tree” (Joyce Kiilmer)

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Poetry! I do love poetry, but give me the good-old-fashioned stuff like Keats and Milton. A lot of stuff these days… especially in adverts and cards and stuff… I’m talking the stuff that’s all a bit Emperor’s New Clothes. Poetry in that case is the literary equivalent of ‘expressive dance’. Just throw some words/movies randomly at people and called it high art! And the best bit is – these days, you don’t actually have to have much talent! I am not knocking expressive dance or freeform poetry when It’s done properly, just the people who use such things to label their nonsense and try to make it impressive.

I remember attending an ‘Arts Evening’ once. I did feel uncomfortable. Everybody was all like “oh, let me get my singing stones out and we’ll dance around the fire made of walnuts and sing the praises of the great wizard Jangletang.” And I just had to sit there and listen to these interminable flipping poems and chunks of stories about everything from nutmeg fairies to magical knickers, desperately wanting it all to end and then watching them as they congratulated each other on how brilliant they were…

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What really gets your goat? I’d love to know!

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

View more on Thérésa Hedges's website »

Like • 0 comments • flag

Published on July 03, 2023 14:00

May 12, 2023

Never smile at a crocodile

…or argue with an idiot. Why? I’ll explain later.

Oh, my word.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How the dickens are you?

I have missed you. I won’t bore you with the reasons for my absence.

So… yes…

Giving not too much away, I’ll just say that even vampires have the occasional brain-frizz. Anyway, back to what I started talking about. I am so glad I don’t base my entire self-esteem on the incoherent ramblings of some talentless mouth breather. Ouch and sorry-not-sorry to anyone I may have just offended, or to anyone who has so graciously decided to be offended on behalf of someone else.

I never understand the reasoning behind why humans feel the increasing need to be so vitriolic online. How exactly does it improve their lives or increase their status? Is it truly a feeling of jealousy? Or the unintentional highlighting of their own inadequacy?

I looked recently on a website where lots of people had left comments on an item that had recently been posted. 99.9% of them left were very positive or at least attempting to be constructive (bless).

But, as with every tub of ointment, there was bound to be a self-righteous, pontificating fly. As a rule of thumb, the unkindest, snidest comments came from people who had absolutely no other way of creating a visible presence. They had no followers, no content, no likes, no form of the validation they so obviously craved. Or certainly only as many as could be counted on the fingers of one hand – if that hand belonged to a squid.

Apologies to any squid.

What is the plural of squid, by the way? Is it still squid? Squids?

I can only surmise that their sheer nastiness ( the keyboard warriors, that is, not the squid. I haven’t met any squid recently, but I’m sure they’re lovely) was an attempt at garnering some attention/sympathy/pity or they were trying to gather like-minded people into their circle in much the same way as a ship attracts magnetic sea mines.

Hey, if you can’t be the smartest person in the room, be the nastiest.

“Hell is other people.” Even more so when you’re a vampire!

I’m trying to stay away from those kind of humans.

I know of a few very confusing types. For example, in discussing a plan for an event, one such human agreed readily with all the suggestions, only to later turn around and disagree, and then went as far as to say they had never say anything of the kind, and that anyone who said otherwise was lying!

I also heard of one beleaguered person who, fearing for their own sanity after countless battle cries of ‘you’re imagining it’ and ‘I never said that’, decided to tape a conversation when discussing a deadline for a project. They asked the other person a question about it a few days later, only for the other to claim total ignorance of anything to do with. It went something like this:

A: “But we discussed this only the other day.”

B: “No, we didn’t. I’ve never spoken to you about that.”

A: “We had a meeting to discuss it.”

B: “You must be imagining it. I didn’t even know it was happening.”

They even played back the tape to the other person. They still denied any knowledge, despite hearing their own voice talking about it!

B: “I never said that.”

Ecuuuuse me?!

So, you can either spend a shedload of energy trying to keep those people happy, or you can spend the same energy (less, probably) on moving yourself forward.

Spoiler alert – You’ll never make them happy, so save the energy for some thing positive.

I’d love to hear any positive things anyone is doing to keep their feelings safe and well.

So I’m going to finish with a Top Tip…

Never, ever argue with an idiot.

They’ll drag you down to their level then beat you with experience.

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

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Published on May 12, 2023 10:54

March 25, 2022

Say Nay To The Nay-sayers

So, spring is finally here! Hurrah! And here I am, ready to be your little bundle of positivity and amiability.

Just kidding.

But it doesn’t hurt to dream, does it?

Dreaming.

Now there’s something that’s been a problem all my life. At night, there’s the getting to sleep and staying asleep long enough for the literal variety. And, during daylight (ugh), there’s the day variety. Oh boy, that got me into trouble as a kid. Always daydreaming. I actually found some of my school reports the other day. There were a few phrases that kept popping up over and over again. It was almost as though each teacker thought they might as well copy what the previous three comments had said. And oh, how those phrases were used to beat me over the head. Why couldn’t I be more like so-and-so, they always got the year prize.

In fact, the majority of comments on my old reports soon start looking like a big old game of ’fill in the blank’.

Very bright but-

lazylacks focus needs to concentrate spends too much time daydreamingneeds to pay attention in class[image error]Pexels.com" data-medium-file="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." data-large-file="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." src="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." alt="" class="wp-image-1494" />Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

But, in my defence, it wasn’t always because I wasn’t paying attention. For instance, in one Domestic Science lesson (aka ’cookery’, aka ’yes-I-really-am-THAT-old’), we were making soup. I was 11. My pan of onions and carrots was sizzling away nicely on a corner ring. The teacher decided to gather everyone around one of the hobs to show off one pupil’s efforts. Look at Bethan’s soup, everyone. Isn’t it perfect?

The crowd were, well, crowding out my access to the hob I was using. I tried to get the teacher’s attention, to be told that I should be more like Bethan. My pan of onions and carrots was still sizzling away nicely as the teacher continued to extol the virtues of Bethan’s burgeoning masterpiece. On and on, she went, while my pan was now burning away nicely on its corner ring. I tried again to draw attention to what had gone from being a lack off access to a possible need to call the fire brigade. It was only when thick smoke started pouring from my pan that the teacher dragged herself away from filling in the forms to make Bethan a saint and actually deal with the problem in hand. I got told off for not paying attention and allowing my pan to burn.

But, ensuring the canonisation of Saint Bethan of the Blessed Minestrone, I was allowed to take a couple of ladlefuls of her soup home so I had something to show for the wasted two hours and suspected smoke inhalation. All this accompanied with a frosty ”Not everyone is a natural cook.” from the teacher and sniggers from the other girls (because apparently boys don’t cook). When I got home, I didn’t dare tell Mother what had happened to my own effort, as I knew I would get the usual eardrum bongo solo for wasting food. What I did get, however, was a “It’s a pity you’re not more like Z – they’re a wonderful cook.”

I am actually a wonderful cook.

So there.

[image error]Pexels.com" data-medium-file="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." data-large-file="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." src="https://everydayvampire.files.wordpre..." alt="" class="wp-image-1508" />Photo by alleksana on Pexels.com

But, for now, everything everywhere is just exhausting. Life is still very wearing. It takes me all day to do what I usually do all day. Doesn’t help that my attention pings around like a ball in a pinball machine.

So why the title? Simply this.

You are you.

You are not someone else.

And that someone else is not you. They cannot and should not try to make you become like them. And if someone tries it, say no. Or at least, act no. Tell someone. Also, do not let anyone compare you unfavourably with anyone else, either. I can’t be anyone else. I mean, the amount of times when I was growing up I heard “Why can’t you be more like X?” or ”You should try to be more like Y”. The irony is that, years/decades down the line, if I had been more like X or Y, I’d either be dead or in prison now.

A cup is a cup, and a plate is a plate.

They are both equal and valid.

We need both.

I’m going to make a sweeping generalisation. Hey, it’s about the only sweeping I’m going to get done today. People work on the principle of ”The world would be a simpler place if everyone was like me.”
Look at when someone misunderstands or gets annoyed/frustrated with someone else. 99% of the time, they’re experiencing those feelings because the perpetrator isn’t behaving or reacting the way that they themselves would. Seriously. Just watch them. Let me know what you find.

There you go. Homework. A*. Top of the class. Have fun with it.

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?
Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice…

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

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Published on March 25, 2022 12:30

November 9, 2021

The Sacrificial Chip

The Quirks & OCD Obsessions Of An Everyday Vampire

I know I’ve spoken before about the obsessive-compulsive quirks that make up a large part of the vampire personality, but what exactly do they look like? Traditionally, it’s things like having to pick up every single seed that some careless (or devious) human has either filled your coffin with, or scattered all around your coffin. Or it’s something as socially awkward as needing to be invited in. The first one doesn’t apply to me for obvious reasons (no coffin, plus the welcome advent of really good vacuum cleaners). The second one… Okay, you’ve got me there. I do need to be invited in when I visit someone for the first time. But to me, it’s just common decency. So what are the little quirks of an everyday vampire?

Read on…

Getting dressed – layer by layer. And by this, I mean putting on all my underwear first (plus socks) then top/ T-shirt and whatever I’m wearing on the bottom, usually not a skirt) and finally, top-top layer – either a jumper, cardigan, or hoody. Apparently, this is weird. Apparently, “normal” people put on socks/pants/trousers first then vest/shirt (I’m trying to be gender-generic here). Or the other way around. Not me. I heard somebody saying that they’d been called weird because (like me) they got dressed layer by layer. Really? So, you’re telling me that the normal way is to get all of your top stuff on or all of your bottom stuff on first? Who are these people? What happens if there’s a knock at the door? Do you go down and greet the postman by flashing him because half your bits are hanging out? And if this is the case, which bits do you choose to flash with? And which are you least likely to get arrested for?

Stacking the dishwasher – I know a lot of humans that have a hangup about this one. With me, the focus is on the cutlery. Every dishwasher I’ve ever come across has his cute little basket thing that sits right in the middle of the bottom rack, specifically for cutlery. Sometimes, the basket has a grid allowing you to place individual items, or sometimes it’s just divided into four little sections. For me, I have to have cutlery in a certain way. It drives me spare when I see knives and forks and spoons all jumbled together. This is the proper, correct and only way to do it. All spoons, no matter what size or function, go on the left hand side. Knives and forks (i.e. stabby things) go on the right hand side. Ideally, you want the forks to be grouped together, the knives to be grouped together, and the spoons to be grouped according to size (teaspoon, dessertspoon, tablespoon). Is this a step too far? Let me know in the comments!

The sacrificial chip – this is a long-standing tradition when I’m cooking. When I put chips (fries) in the oven, I always find that no matter how well regulated the oven temperature is, there will always be some that cook quicker than the others. Now, I know that if I leave these little blighters in for the full time (i.e. until all the chips are ready), they will be burnt to a cinder. My solution is quite simple – as soon as these little tiddly chips become ready, I whip them out and eat them on the spot. These are the chips that have selflessly given themselves for the Greater Good. These, ladies and gentlemen, are the sacrificial chips. And they’re blooming tasty too! Try it next time, you will not regret it.

Baked beans on toast – This has to be done in a very particular way – the (cool, but not cold) toast has been (dairy-free) buttered, one slice slightly overlapping the other. Then, and only then, can the beans be poured on top. The idea is that you have this nice dry crispy buttery bit that’s still lurking there once the rest of the toast has gone soggy.

Getting ready to go out – and by this, I don’t mean “Yay, I’m going on a big night out. Party!” No, I mean simply leaving the house. I have a little routine that I have to go through to ensure that I get out of the house in something under half an hour. It’s simply this – keys, cash, communicator. It’s quite straightforward: I check to make sure that I have on me my keys, my purse, and my phone. Of course, recently this phrase has extended by one item to become keys, cash, communicator, cover (cover = facemask, but I wanted to keep it punchy).

Eating a baguette – I just realise that a lot of my OCD relates to food. I think that says more about me than about the food. Anyway, the baguette… The cut has to be on the right hand side. For some reason, I cannot eat the baguette if the cut is on the left hand side. I remember once accidentally starting it on the left hand side and panicking, saying “I’m eating it upside down! It’s the wrong way ’round!” At which, the hubster stared at me in disbelief.

Oh, and cutlery has to match.

And I also have a teaspoon that I deem to be evil and won’t use.

I know humans have routines and habits too. its not exclusively a vampire thing. So, how about you? Do you have any quirks or foibles? Let me know in the comments!

Want to read more of my ramblings? Apparently, these are free if you have something called Kindle Unlimited. Even without, they’re still way cheaper than one of those fancy cups of coffee…

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

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Published on November 09, 2021 06:30

October 27, 2021

We’re Going To Need A Bigger Bloat

It’s Halloween again. It’s been 7 whole years since I first started sharing my ramblings with you. Well, nobody has asked me to stop, so… I have a little linky gifty for you. Read on…

Funnily enough, it all began with me highlighting the wondrous mind-bogglingness that is the human thought process (I did want to say human stupidity, but someone out there who’s desperately looking to be offended will probably zero in on it and get all precious on me. Seriously, who goes out of their way to cheese off a vampire?

This is where it started… with a post called “As good a day as any” Yes, I know the date says 6 years ago, but I was (slightly) young(er) and foolish(er) (er, no) at the time and decided to reblog the post, not realising that it wouldn’t just repeat the post, it physically moved the whole thing. Lesson learned.

But last year, with everything that was going on, Halloween was pretty much a non-event. This year, people are still tending to do Halloween in their own homes more, so I guess dressing up might not be as much of a thing? Correct me if I’m wrong. Go ahead. I dare you. Just joking. Or am I? Instead, it seemed to have evolved into more of a stay-at-home film fest type of thing (we’re doing an online virtual escape room this year – we found a site containing some absolute corkers! Click here to see for yourself). We also have a large amount of vampire-friendly treats ready to hand out. And if we don’t get to hand them out, we’ll probably end up scoffing the lot ourselves and ending up quite bloaty.

I know what you’re thinking…

What’s with the trick-or-treating shark?

We were looking for some films to watch over the weekend. The hubster came across a list of Halloween movies and asked how could Jaws be a Halloween film? I thought that perhaps the people who’d compiled the list had mixed two iconic horrors up – Halloween and Friday The 13th plus everyone knows the old thing of ‘fish-on-a-Friday’..?

Just wondering…

And don’t get started on the whole “Die-Hard-is-a-Cristmas-film” thing. What do you think? Let me know in the comments!

Back to sharks. Apparently, shark attacks aren’t as big a thing as people think and, according to one Florida site, sharks just nibble people if they’re confused. So, there you go – you humans are not actually on the menu! It doesn’t have any statistics for shark attacks on vampires, but that might have something to do with that gloriously sunny part of the world not being a major holiday destination for vampires on the whole.

Here’s my theory about the nibbling. Perhaps sharks are more like toddlers? Picture the scene. Mummy and Daddy Shark are trying to get fussy Little Shark to eat something. Anything. They’ve tried krill, squid, coral, oysters. Basically, everything going. And then a lightbulb moment. They present the fussy little brat with a nice squishy human. The ultimate (not so) fast food. It even comes with its own dress-up outfits and accessories!

Daddy Shark: “Doesn’t this look yummy, junior?”

Junior: “I don’t like it!”

Mummy Shark (slightly exasperated):“But you haven’t even tried it!”

Junior: “I know I won’t like it.”

Daddy Shark: “Just try a bite.”

Junior: NO.

Mummy Shark: Just one teeny weeny bite?

Junior: “It’s yucky.”

Mummy Shark: Well I’m going to try it. Hmm. Just a teensy nibble. Hmm… yum yum.”

And Junior continues to refuse to eat and starts pestering to go to Seaweed Hut instead…

Gives a whole new perspective on that Baby Shark song…

We live in a little seaside town. No sharks. Amazing beaches with absolutely no danger of being eaten, bitten or even nibbled. Even by me – you know my rule. Although that theory (and my patience) has been tested recently.

You see, it’s school autumn break over here, which means our picturesque (and perfectly safe) little town is once more overrun with tourists. And we’re not talking the ‘pay for everything with a fresh £50 note’ type that I mentioned last time. Not only do they lack basic social awareness (and coming from me, that’s saying something!) they even seem to lack basic life skills. Additional lack of mathematical knowledge seems to be the current trend. Some examples…

The ‘herder’ – having no awareness of space or distance, these are the ones who gather in huge groups in the very middle of the pavement, often taking up the entire pavement. Consequently, everyone else is forced off the pavement, herded into the road and into the path of oncoming traffic.

The ‘can’t-count-to-6’ – The other day, the hubster and I were in the local grocer buying something for lunch. The thing is, here, facemasks are still legally required. Over the border, pretty much anything goes nowadays. Back to normal. Let’s all do exactly what we want. Just much, much louder. Plus many places here still have a set number of people allowed in. In this particular shop, that number is six. As we are having to buy quite a lot of items, both of us had gone in. So there we were, and at the front of the queue were three people, all clearly from the same group but only one of them was doing any shopping. They’d been in there a long time already. In between them and us was another person.

Six.

Another potential customer on their lunch break steps into the shop, does a quick headcount, makes an apologetic exclamation and leaves. This sensible soul is then pushed out of the way by person number four from the group at the front of the queue. They’re asked politely to leave the shop as only six are legally allowed inside. “oh, it’s alright.” They say, grinning inanely, “I’m with them.” And they point to the three people from their group who are all busy videoing the pasties but still can’t seem to decide between buying a single sausage roll or a pizza slice. All three staff numbers take it in turns to explain why they have to leave the shop. Pandemic. Social distancing. The law. Maximum of six in the shop. The stupid grin just grows wider. They stand their ground, nodding. Soon, the other customers start joining in and pleading with this genius to leave. “It’s okay,” they grin, even more inanely, “I’m not buying anything.”

And that’s supposed to make it better?

Anyway, staff members stop short of walking the person out of the store by simply serving the rest of the group as quickly as possible whereupon they all meander out. It turns out that there’s at least another half dozen of them waiting outside on the very narrow pavement which puts the rest of them into category one – the herder.

And, just one more…

The ‘no-idea-of-distance’ – this one really got my goat. I mean, you know how careful (paranoid, even) I am about keeping my distance from people. So, we’re in the queue at the mini-market, standing the statutory distance from the person in front, if not a little further. Obviously, we have no idea what’s going on behind us, but that’s not the issue. Anyway, the person in front turns around and starts yelling at us to move back, that we’re not keeping far enough away from them. We try to point out that we were indeed more than far enough away but they continue screaming at us. I’d love to know how they could tell we were apparently too close when we were standing behind them! So – complete inability to judge distances but special talent: eyes in back of head.

Anyway, they paid for their groceries (after making an inordinate amount of actual physical contact with the person serving them) and eventually trotted out and returned (I’m guessing) to their gingerbread cottage. They were probably in a bad mood because their oven had gone out and they needed to get it ready for the children that might be trotting their way this weekend. You can never tell, can you?

Still, enough of this nonsense. Have a great weekend, everyone. Take the bestest care of yourselves. Let me know in the comments what you’ve got planned. I’d also love to hear from anyone who’s tried out the escape rooms in the above link.

—————————————————————————

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

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Published on October 27, 2021 08:41

September 10, 2021

New season, schmooze season

Ah, autumn. To me, it’s almost like the start of a new year. For me, at least, it’s the start of not just a new season, but a new season of me sharing my dumb thoughts with you. a bit of the old online schmoozing, if you will.

That’s right.

I’m back.

Okay, so perhaps schmooze isn’t the right word but I don’t know what is, so we’ll just have to deal with that. The dictionary defines it as:

“to converse informally : CHAT also : to chat in a friendly and persuasive manner especially so as to gain favor, business, or connections”

Well, let’s stick with the first part of that, shall we?

Anyway, it’s been a while. Summer here is chronologically over, but nobody has told the weather that. You see, as I’ve said before, September here is usually hotter and or sunnier than the more traditional summer months. As one of our lovely neighbours said the other day, ”The tourists have gone. It’s our turn now!” (In case you’d forgotten, we live in a very cute seaside town)

So how have you been? Did you have a good summer? Did you manage to go anywhere?

We stayed here, trying to keep on top of the capricious moods of the weather (hot/hotter/wet). But it’s been hot. I can say that much. Except for when it wasn’t. Which was rare. And even though we had to stay put this year, my summer absence was spent in the garden, learning several lessons the hard way. Like, for instance – cucumbers are prickly! Why did nobody tell me this?

My biggest problem, however was, as always, trying to sleep. If my feet are too cold, I can’t sleep. If my feet are too hot, I can’t sleep. And there’s no way in hailstones that I’m dangling them out of the covers. And however hot it is, I still have to have a cover over me. I just don’t vibe with the idea of lying there like the last haddock in a fishmonger’s display. But then something weird happens in the early hours. Throughout the day, the only thing hotter than the sun are my hobbit-like little furnace feet.

Then, at about 11.30pm (2.30am summer time) –

Me: Arrgh! I can’t sleep! My feet are too hot!

My feet: Don’t you dare dangle them out. We don’t want to get eaten by the under-the-bed monster!

Me: I have to do something!

My feet: Activate Arctic mode.

Me: Arrgh! I can’t sleep! My feet are too cold!

Oh… yes, I should have said. For anyone new to my ramblings, I have a very low body temperature.

It’s a vampire thing.

So, anyway, yes. The grumpy tourists have all gone home now. Not sure why they were grumpy. Perhaps because this was ’the best they could do’, given the current travel restrictions? Or perhaps their sense of entitlement comes across differently abroad, in another language?

So here’s a few tips for when you holiday at home but still want that ’holiday abroad’ feel…

1) Go into a baker, point at something, shout ‘two’ while holding up a random number of fingers. Pay with a £50 note. Get it back to your hotel/air B&B to discover it’s a meat pie, not an apple pie like you thought.

2) Wear wildly clashing t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. No matter what the weather. Then complain about the weather.

3) Book a week somewhere that doesn’t have any chain burger bars. Then spend every lunchtime trying to find one of these establishments. Finally find one. Take the entire family in and only start thinking about what you’re having when the harassed staff member tries to take your order. Pay with a £50 note. And for that extra ’Brit abroad’ feel, be sure to change your mind at least three times, up to and including when said staff member hands you your order.

4) Spend the last day buying random useless things to take back.

Which reminds me… This didn’t happen to me (I read most languages, so I tend to know exactly what I’m buying) but to someone who’s related to someone who’s friends with someone I sort of know. They’d gone on holiday to France. Had an amazing time. Did the whole beaches/sightseeing thing, finishing up at one of those enormous hypermarchés, which is basically a small city made of shops. To remind them of the vineyards they’d visited, they decided to stock up on wine. They spent a fortune on a particularly stunning bottle, vowing to share it with their friends on their return. And so, the emails went out. The menu was planned. The evening arrived. Out came the bottle with every bit of ceremony barring an actual fanfare. The cork was popped, glasses filled. Sips were taken in great anticipation.

And spat out in great disgust.

They had assumed that ’aigre’ was the wine growing region that the wine was produced in. This bottle of ’Vin Aigre should have been a delight for the palette.

Not speaking French, they hadn’t realised that ’vin aigre’ or, rather, ’vinaigre’ is actually the French for…

Vinegar.

Yup.

And on that note, I will bid you farewell as I go to the kitchen to cook dinner with random items I pretend I found at the back of the cupboard.

—————————————————————————

For anyone wanting to read all my rants in one place – including all-new exclusive stuff, then click below!

Volume 1 of my diary – why not start at the very beginning?

Volume 2 – more rants, musings and fairly useful advice

Volume 3 – things are afoot! The thot plickens…

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Published on September 10, 2021 07:30

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