Friday, 18 May 2012

*sings* lovesick and I'm sick of love

It's funny how things get stuck in your head isn't it.  I have been half heartily humming that ditty ever since I heard it for the first time on BGT and just can't seem to get rid of it.  I have no idea what the rest of the words to the song are except something to do with stealing trainers and eating pork pies - much to the other half's intense amusement.  I do like the way the odd lyric or catchphrase and sentiment finds its way into our subconscious and is stuck there for ever more.  Why is it I say my puppies are barking whenever my feet hurt?  How did the dearly beloved get the nickname squeegalbee?  And why was I happily called Flea for a year and a half?  Words are a funny thing indeed.  They exert an enormous amount of power over us and yet I feel that sometimes they are being lost in technology.

I social media, as I'm sure many of you do too, and oftentimes I am left weeping into my laptop as I read the truncated English and grammar devoid statements.  Not to wave my grammar police flag too loudly as I'm sure there are those amongst you who would pick me up for the odd (hopefully) mistake.  But nevertheless it does pain me.  I worry about all the mis-spellings and wrong use of words, incorrect tenses, inability to capitalise correctly and so on and so on - one wonders whether these individuals can actually write a complete sentence without breaking out into a sweat.  And if they can't, shouldn't we be worried about this???

Another bug bear of mine is common decency.  Living in a highly multi-racial area I long for the dulcet sounds of the English language around me.  Foreign language speakers talk louder, harsher and ruder then we English-only speaking lot.  Plus when they do utter a few words in the Queen's English it tends to be hard, clipped and without any politeness.  Now perhaps the excessive politeness of the well bred, English-only speakers (sorry chavs, I'm excluding you) is something one can mock to ones hearts content but it has to be said that speaking politely to others tends to get you the same in kind.  Eventually.  Once they've figured out what politeness is and how unusual it is to receive some.  I feel sorry for the ladies behind the glass at the gym as they get to deal with an English-only speaking customer about one in twenty and I am appalled at the rudeness I hear so goodness only knows how they feel.  I just hope that they choose not to carry that attitude forward within their own spheres of existence.

I've rambled on, such is my wont, but I hope you appreciate my point herein.  Words matter.  I shall be using many of them and <insert deity of your choice> bless the wordsmith.  I also accept that I sound terribly English.  I promise to appropriate a great deal more colloquialisms in the next blog.


Friday, 4 May 2012

Here a blog, there a blog

In the world of blogging it seems that everywhere you look there be blogs.  Everyone has had one, everyone has read one, everyone has got a great idea for one.  But the tricky thing is, they are harder then you think.  Unless you don't mind spewing venom for several paragraphs on a daily basis or bemoaning the hard, hard life you suffer it can be difficult to think of clever, witty, thought provoking blogisms on a regular basis.  Hence the little hole I find myself in.

This grasshopper has been neglecting her blog and her worms and is very very sorry.  Being unemployed should have been a superb opportunity to creatively flex my blogging muscles and yet it fell very very far by the wayside. So far that I was unable to reach out from my chair and grab it - you know that sideways bend when you know you could get it if you just stood up and walked over. 

Now that I am back in employment and my zing has zanged, I find the inclination has reappeared.  I just hope that in the meantime my bloggists haven't moved on to bigger and brighter blogs and they still want to read the non-salad related ramblings of a food addicted hopper.  Some things never change lol.

Wish me luck for this weekend, I am in search of oak trees and hoping for a LOTResque forest with dappled lighting and the possibility of hidden unicorns and fairy glades.  I expect what I shall experience will be cold, wet and miserable.  Pray for a local inn with delicious vittles.