How to Make Yourself Look Popular on Facebook

I don’t use Facebook a lot now, preferring the instancy and well, betterness, of Twitter. I mainly use Facebook to spam people with my crappy blog links, because, well, then I’ll have some stuff on there. And, er, I want people to read my crappy blog links and ‘like’ them (and no matter how sad it sounds, I get a little buzz every time someone does ‘like’ them).

I’ve stopped updating my status because it’s better doing it on Twitter – there’s a better response and if it’s shit, it gets buried very quickly and to be honest, it’s far more likely I’ll have a conversation with like-minded people on there as I pretty much follow journalists and people who talk food constantly. 

Plus, my sister doesn’t check Twitter that much so there’s less likelihood of her taking the piss out of what I’ve written. And she likes taking the piss out of most things. Anyway. What I have realised is that Twitter is about posting stupid links and getting outraged over EVERYTHING but what Facebook is for making yourself look or sound better or worse than you really are. 

Now, don’t try and deny it. We’ve all done it. I’ve done it, you’ve done it, even Zoey Deschanel’s done it. God, I hate her. If you want to make yourself sound better on Facebook, here are some handy hints of what to do. As always, my tongue is firmly in my cheek.

• ‘Like’ loads of pages so people remember you exist. In particular the ones that are just really long sentences. 

• Check into your bed with your boy/girlfriend, just so everyone knows you’re getting some.

• Post a classical music video, quote famous literature with big words in or something that’s generally profound, to sound clever and cultured. Bonus points for a controversial comment to go with it. 

• In a similar vein, post Modest Mouse lyrics or similar vintage indie band. It’s pretty much illegal for someone to post a status of that nature and not get likes. 

•  Tag EVERYONE IN EVERYTHING to represent all of your hilarious in-jokes that would probably have been better off in a private message. 

• Spam people with your links all the time, just in case they forgot you write for a blog with more than two readers. Of course, I would NEVER do this. 

• Ask rhetorical questions on your status. “Chocolate cherry cheesecake? Don’t mind if I do.’ (There’s always a risk if you ask questions no-one will answer them, so it’s safer if you answer them yourself). 

• Check in. Everywhere. Starbucks, your local pub (every Friday night. Caption: “Gin O’Clock!”), the supermarket (at first glance, it seems pretty boring but it’s a Monday night at 3am and you’re on an all-nighter and you went to Tesco’s [sic] to get some popcorn!!!1111!!11111). 

• Write stuff in another language. Mysterious. Oh, and stick a heart on the end to show you know basic HTML (ok, so that worked better with Myspace).

• Frape yourself. No-one will ever know. People like pretty much every frape so even if it’s really shit, it’ll get at least one ‘like. RESULT. 

NB: These might not work.


Some more articles about Facebook:

Facebook Crimes
More Facebook Crimes

How to act on public transport

I travel on the tube daily. The tube is full of people. I am extremely intolerant of large crowds of people. It was never going to bode well. These are some of the things I have encountered on the tube, and London transport in general:

1. The escalators. If you can't read the signs, look around. See what other people do. DON'T STAND ON THE FUCKING LEFT. If you do, prepare for a WORLD of tutting pain from people like me, who are probably late.

2. Personal space. If it is a crowded tube, try not to all congregate by the doors. There's a shitload of room further down the carriage. And don't pull that shit you're 'too small' to reach the bar at the top - I can reach it and I'm 4 inches smaller than you.

3. Couples. It is 8.30 in the morning. No-one wants to see your tongues. Or one of you standing in between the other's legs. Or my favourite, sitting on knees. Once I was on a half-empty tube with one seat either side of me and a girl sat on her boyfriend's lap. Elbowing me. I wanted to make a point and elbowed back but they didn't seem to noticed and make smooching noises so in the end I moved a seat a long. But I gave them really bad evils.

4. People with guitars. Who burst into song and then start asking for money whilst there is a mixture of sniggers and eye-contact avoidance. Come on, NO-ONE talks on the tube, do you really think anyone is going to enjoy singing?

5. Oh, and people who talk too loudly. I cannot tell you how many conversations I have overheard on a silent tube because they were not conducted in appropriate inside voices. I found myself getting quite involved in a story about this old woman's friend who was having relationship problems but then they got off and I wondered why the hell I gave a shit.

6. Self-awareness. In a massively busy place like Euston, it would be great to have some self-awareness and actually recognise it's probably not a good idea to stop dead in the middle of the walkway WITH A MASSIVE SUITCASE at rush hour. I mean, come on!

7. Tube hierarchy! Obviously there is a complex hierarchy on the tube about who gets to sit down next. I was there for 15 minutes standing like a goon in the middle of all the seats and then you SWOOPED IN and got my seat after one stop! Bastard. Actually, maybe I'm the only one who does that.

8. "Inconsiderate arseholes". Those people who, upon seeing a carriage that is full to busting. They will still get on, even if they have to bend double and their bag still gets caught. Even though there is another train in a minute. And it makes everyone angry and make snarky comments and I start to feel awkward so I'd just get off the damn tube if I wasn't wedged into someone's armpit.

9. Eye contact. Those people who insist on standing in front of YOU even if it's not that busy so you can't stare up at the ads above the window or just around because all you can see is them. You are resigned once more to staring down. At a non-existant newspaper, probably. By all means, though, I must not make eye contact. That's weird.

10. Groups of kids. Just run. As far away as you can (or just to the next carriage, ideally).

Why I fell out of love with Zooey Deschanel

I wrote a thing for Beatreview about Zooey Deschanel.

"The fact that she’s all innocent and wide-eyed and has a shit band (yes, it’s shit now I hate her, I am fickle, my ears were clouded by sheer admiration) just serves to piss me off more. she’s not sodding Bambi, she’s an American actress who’s making shitloads of money from being ‘kooky’. But to be fair to her, she does it very well. She is something of a poster girl for weird girls in indie films. Not weird, like, weird weird, but fun, hot weird.

She sounds like a frog. And, she’s not that alternative or weird any more because she’s in a shit Channel 4 series and she’s the UK’s most desirable woman. And I am most definitely ‘over’ her. I mean, for a while, I was clutching her pseudo-indie films and throwing tear-soaked tissues at the TV, wailing ‘What have you done? Why do I hate you so much?’. But now, I have come to accept that I’ll have to find some other weirder actress to idolise."

Read more here.

I've had my fair share of weird flatmates

Since I've moved to London, I've lived in some pretty 'interesting' places. Here are some flatmate traits I really could have lived without.

Oh, the notes. I came back one day to find no less than three notes lined up next to each other, taped to various empty household products. The first one: BUY YOUR OWN STUFF! The second one: AND BUY YOUR OWN MILK! Someone's been stealing mine and topping it up with milk. The third one: Well, I can't remember exactly but it was a massive note detailing how pissed off two other people were about it. Not that it had happened to them, they were just adding to the general unpleasant atmosphere. This isn't about the stealing - taking your housemates' food without asking is bad, but does it all have to be conducted through passive-aggressive notes and huffy, awkward silences in the communal kitchen?

Basic hygiene. For a very long month, I lived in a house in Wandsworth which had a very nice landlady, but the other tenants were left... wanting. Three men, from about 30-45. Which is fine, but there was one bathroom and in that was only a bath, no shower. I used to find, erm, bodily substances in there, body hair and, bizarrely, bits of tobacco. Who smokes in their communal bath?! Oh, and of course, the obligatory occasional skid-marks down the loo bowl (who knew there was a loo brush next to the loo, eh?). Pleasant.

Weird landlords. This is a huge generalisation, but I am NEVER living with my landlord again. I lived as a temporary lodger with the owner of a flat for a couple of months, and she was awesome, but otherwise, NO. Simply because it's way easier. And sometimes they're weird. Like this landlord I had in Hanger Lane. Complete arse. He was inconsiderate, didn't always flush the loo and sometimes, when he got pissed and forgot his keys, he smashed one of the window panes in the front door in. And 'forgot' to clean it up. I didn't stay there very long. Still, it's not as weird as one guy I went to see who wanted to live with only girls, didn't give a reason. On the ad it said he was 35. On getting there, I don't think he was a day under 50. Just a bit weird.

Living in a hostel. When I first came here, I didn't have anywhere to stay so I checked into the cheapest hostel I could find, in Ealing. I like Ealing, but there wasn't much going on in that particular part of Ealing, so I was pretty bored. Being skint, I had to share with three other people, so I was constantly on edge that my expensive laptop and life's possessions were ok. Hostels are good when you're travelling, but in real life, they're well, less fun. This one was dirty (I'm pretty sure that if you stay there less than a week they don't change the sheets), boring and the owners were weird and pervy. So if you're going to live in a hostel for a bit, choose carefully! Still, I came out unscathed and it was dead cheap.

Now I'm living in North London, having had 7 changes of address in total, staying on a number of kind relatives' floors and being glued to Spareroom constantly.

I've got some other stuff on other stuff

As well as this, which consists of me basically writing what pisses me off and a bit about food, I write for some other places. Other people are always plugging the shit out other stuff they do in their blogs so I'm gonna just do it. Sometimes I write for:

Beatreview: www.beatreview.com Music and lifestyle blog based in Cardiff. I write about pretty much exclusively music there. And a rant, occasionally.

Limebird: limebirduk.wordpress.com It's a writing blog. About writing novels and that mostly, but also about journalism and criticism and other things like that. 

E. Mishkin: A Review

If you're a London food blogger or foodie, you'll probably have seen a hundred reviews of Mishkin's already. But I'm going to write it anyway, so I don't give a shit. 

Mishkin's, near Covent Garden, the latest in Russell Norman's empire, is preceded by Polpo, Da Polpo, Polpetto and Spuntino (I reviewed it here last year), and is a 'kind of Jewish deli'. It is a pretty good description, but it's also very cool, especially at the moment, with the trend of exposed brickwork and very much 'un-fine' dining. Which isn't a criticism, because ultimately, it does look cool, and a lot of people like it a lot. 

Image from the Mishkin's Website

I went there this week, for dinner. I was lucky I booked when I did as there was a review in the Metro that day (now it's not just a secret that food bloggers and Twitter foodies can smugly keep!) I went in to wait for my friend, and was soon seen and seated (hurrah for booking in Central London!) and given water without asking (tick!).

The menu is pretty straightforward: sandwiches, sides, all-day breakfast and 'supper' items - snacky kind of food. In true Russell Norman style, it was on a piece of lined paper and in a courier new style-font. My friend arrived, apologising profusely, and we ordered. To celebrate my new job she declared that we must celebrate (my arm didn't exactly need twisting) with a bottle of wine. The carafe, the waiter advised, was only a little smaller than the bottle, and was cheaper too ('Definitely living up to the Jewish stereotype, so far). We went for a few things to share: duck hash, beetroot & pickled herring tartare, their trademark Reuben sandwich and a gem and walnut salad, recommended by the casually dressed and friendly waiter.

The duck hash, well, it was a bit.. ducky. I know, I know, what else do you expect? - but it was. We didn't manage to finish it, complete with fried egg on top. Perhaps we shouldn't have attempted it after all of the other food. The beetroot and herring tartare was a little too beetrooty (more herring please!) but was still completely delightful - I just really love herring. The gem and walnut salad was a bit of much needed green but to be frank, pretty ordinary. Pleasant enough though. The crowning glory was the Reuben sandwich. I mean, I know everyone is raving about it but I could eat several of those in one sitting (and they're pretty big). On rye bread, with pastrami, saurkraut and swiss cheese with mustard and gherkin on the side, it was damn good.

Another cafafe (well, it would be rude not to), and we went for the rhubarb fool and the bananas foster (apparently it's a big thing in Australia, according to my companion). The rhubarb fool was pleasant but by that point, was too much. The bananas foster was heavenly - I could have eaten several.

Image from the Mishkin's website.

The bill was about £70 for the two of us which is about average (I still baulked slightly but that's probably just my current financial situation).

All in all, a great meal, friendly staff who're on the ball and one of the best sandwiches I've ever had. And they also supply (credited of course), other local business' products - for example, Big Apple Hotdogs, which I've yet to try but I've heard are amazing, and the salt beef beigel from Brick Lane which I've had from the source and is pretty awesome (both at a decent markup, of course).

I know it's very trendy to sell all this preserved meat like pastrami, corned beef and salt beef which were until recently, very unfashionable and undesirable, but by God, maybe it's the bit of Polish in me, I love it all.

STOP BEING SO FUCKING NICE

Sometimes I worry that I'm intolerant. I mean, yes, I am intolerant of slow walkers, overcooked mushrooms, when people don't understand me STRAIGHT away, poor grammar, people watching me eat and people who leave the teabag in too long, but that's all normal stuff, right? 

I'm talking about my intolerance to... nice people. I mean, I'm quite nice most of the time, but no-one can be nice all the time. I can be a bit of a bitch, to be honest. Like, the normal amount. But I really can't stop myself from getting mildly irritated by people who never have a bad word to say about anyone, or who seem to find it impossible not to at least roll their eyes at that snogging couple on the tube ('They're in love!' 'Yeah, but I can see their spittle CONNECTING').

You know the kind: you feel guilty for saying anything mean to them. They have that slightly shocked look, and laugh nervously at your HILARIOUS (if slightly off-colour) jokes, not because they find them funny, but to be polite. In fact, they probably find them quite offensive, judging by their split-second  uncomfortable glance to the side as if to say, 'Please rescue me from this nutter NOW'.

I'm not saying that they should become a grade-A bitch, because it's lovely to be nice. All I'm saying is: take a day off once in a while. Set your inner voice free. I don't seriously believe you think about kittens and puppies all the time. Say what you're really thinking. Be honest. Even to me. Especially to me. There's nothing better in my books than someone having the balls to tell someone else that they're being a complete knobhead. Or about someone else. Perhaps not quite as constructive, but every bit as fun.

I feel like I'm painting a bad picture of myself. I'm a good person and my heart's in the right place. But I'm human. No-one can like everyone. It's impossible. And there are a lot of knobs in the world. Ok, I feel I'm overcompensating - that's enough now.

And on a personal level, if you've got common hatred of something, be it that girl who always has a cheese and onion pasty on the tube every morning, that twat who is talking REALLY loudly on the phone to impress the girl sitting opposite you (and he's failing really badly) or a colleague who's so far up his or own arse that it would be rude not to share a 'what a tosser' look when they look the other way.

*Image from themeanings.com

Note: This is an exercise for me, rather than anything you'd probably like to read

It's been ages since I've blogged or even written, call it writers block, except it wasn't that I didn't have anything to say, or even that I didn't have anything to write about, it's just that I couldn't be arsed. 

I reckon it was the environment that I was in. I think having white walls is like, t he anti-inspirer for me. I need to decorate my walls, or be around people, because otherwise there are no distractions that are physical, only distractions that are not actually here, like something on my computer screen, or the TV, or something else.

Also, I have come to realise that writing, for me, is all about looking busy. If I'm in a cafe, or with other people at least a bit of the time, I will write just so I look busy and writery, and if I'm looking busy and writery, I might as well be busy and writery. 

Also, I don't have a charger, and no internet connection, and the dog ate my homework, and I conveniently forgot that I have the use of a smartphone and wait for it, good old-fashioned pen and paper.

The next blog post will be far more interesting, I promise. I'm in a coffee shop, I'm practically honour bound.

Business and Social Media

Being a social media junkie, I look at a lot of profiles of businesses and day after day I see them making the same mistakes. I think a lot of them forget that their official social media profiles are like customer services. Here are some that really annoy me:

• Ignoring questions on social media (and inconsistently)
• Posting updates after that so everyone can see that they’ve DEFINITELY seen the query.
• It can go the other way, they can just be a bit too enthusiastic and annoy you with a million updates a day. *click* unfollow!
• Retweeting EVERY single tweet they are mentioned in
• Stalking Twitter for every possible misspelling and indirect reference to them and replying to them all. It’s just a bit creepy if it’s too frequent.
• Having boring Twitter and Facebook feeds. Why would anyone want to read that? If it's all about you, you're not engaging.

On the other side, there are some companies that have great social media presences and realise how powerful social media can be (side note: I hate the amount of times I've had to use the term 'social media' in this post. Makes me sound like an idiot). A lot of them give great customer service, have interesting feeds and alert me to stuff that's actually interesting. Most of you will remember the @shippamspaste account which got closed down as it wasn't official by Shippam's (bet they're kicking themselves now), but was endearing, inept and alerted many people to a virtually forgotten brand. Bad move, Shippam's Paste.

Here's who are INTERESTING businesses.

• @arenaflowers - so funny. Mostly not about flowers but I'll bet they've got loads of business from it.
• @betfairpoker - totally surreal and its users actually complain when it post stuff about poker. But one of my favourites nonetheless.
• @nationalrailenhq - informative and occasionally posts amusing puns. Not sure it's quite worth the hype as it's by no means the best of its kind but entertaining nonetheless.
• @gauthiersoho ok, so I'm a bit biased, but: live-tweets wine matching of TV shows, replies to tweeters asking questions and controversial tweets!

Buskers Code

I haven't blogged in such a long time it's embarrassing. It's also embarrassing to read stuff like this because nobody really gives a shit but I'll soldier on because I should give an explanation to the, ahem, one regular reader of this blog. Ok, me. I'm on the tube home after after work drinks and I've been talking about blogging and writing all night and I feel horrendously guilty. This is the interesting(ish) part. This post is about buskers. I always feel really guilty about walking past buskers and not giving them any money because they work so hard for relatively little, or no money. But then I remember that they're shooting themselves in the foot.

Out of all the buskers I've seen in the tube station, there was only one that I enjoyed. I can't remember what he was playing or what kind of music it was but I really enjoyed it. But what I do remember was that it was a mainstream song and it wasn't overdone. It might have just been him and his guitar. And this is the fundamental mistake that most buskers make. Cater to your audience, for christ's sake! Do they really think that what most people will enjoy is a seven-minute Steve Vai solo that is quite frankly, self-indulgent and also terrible guitar playing? It's so boring - there is such a high number of wannabe guitar soloists playing, nay crucifying a moderately good rock song and making the fatal mistake that passers-by will appreciate their (admittedly good) skill.

But no-one wants to hear anyone's skill at the tube station. They've had a hard day at work. Or later on, they've had a night on the lash and they want soothing sounds on their ears. No-one wants to hear a massive guitar solo. They want to hear, I don't know, Coldplay, or Jack Johnson, or someone equally soothing.

So my advice to you, tube buskers, pick something that people want to hear. Not what you think showcases your amazing talent. Soothing, pleasant or plain what's in the charts at the moment. Something familiar. There is a potential audience of thousands here. Play what they want to hear, not what you want to play. That is what your mum's garage was for when you were in school.

An Insider's Account of Gauthier's Critic Observations

I'm currently interning in the marketing team at Gauthier Soho, a Michelin star restaurant in you guessed it, Soho. On my second day, on a quiet afternoon in the office, I noticed on Twitter that Alexis Gauthier, the owner, was in Duck Soup, a restaurant just down the road and was liveblogging about it through Twitter. One of the things I admire most about my new boss is that he says exactly what he thinks (no holds barred), so I hastily pulled up the Twitter page. 

Something you should probably know about Alexis is that he has, in the past, been unafraid of upsetting Twitter users and bloggers with his controversial Tweets and blogs: he caused a lot of controversy with his comments about his outrage that London Eating, a review site, allows customer reviews to be unethically changed so easily after being posted.

In this instance, however, he was not critiquing the food, but the critics from The Telegraph and The Independent who were also in the restaurant. He started off with subtle observations such as 'There is also another critic from the independent- can't remember her name because nobody reads her column.' (!) and carried on to express his displeasure for the Telegraph: '(Matthew) Norman is a bit loud in such a small restaurant. That's kind of annoying;', whilst overestimating the Independent food critic's age (that was never going to sit well. He was only four years off, though). At this point the Twitterati began to pick up on this and the story gathered momentum - someone was surely going to bite back soon.

He carried on Tweeting, and more and more people were talking about Gauthier at Duck Soup on Twitter (who are yet to comment):

I can tell you as an insider, much to the simultaneous delight and despair of the marketing team at Gauthier, it was all real: Alexis Gauthier was at Duck Soup commenting on the critics' every move. A considerable amount of people also misconstrued where Alexis was - he was not critiquing the critics at his own restaurant. but at Duck Soup. Even he wouldn't do that (well, I wouldn't put it past him, actually).

Then the drama started. Tracey Macleod, the aforementioned Independent critic, got wind of this and Tweeted Gauthier these responses:

It was like a tennis match. Who would pipe up next?! Then Marina O'Loughlin, food critic from The Metro Tweeted: 'So: @GauthierSoho - hero or complete loony?'. Jay Rayner, food critic for The Observer replied 'probably both' (to over 32,000 followers). Which pretty much sums up what everyone said. Later, Jay even conversed further with other bloggers on Twitter and put Alexis in his 'hero column'. 

People were still talking about it on Twitter in the evening, and even this morning. So what went from Alexis making casual observations about two critics in a restaurant he happened to be in, turned into a full-blown Twitter scandal (ok, so it wasn't Ryan Giggs big but it got plenty of people talking) and people were refreshing their feeds every minute to see what happened (I know I was). Gauthier came away from it all relatively unscathed, considering, and we gained about 50 followers in under 2 hours. By this morning, Gauthier had gained over double that in followers. Now that's good PR. It is good to be controversial sometimes - but use with care.

@GauthierSoho

www.gauthiersoho.co.uk

UPDATE: The Independent has been on the phone to Alexis for 15 minutes and they may run an article about his comments tomorrow - keep an eye out in case they do...

Here is The Independent's article - unfortunately, they seem to be under the impression that Alexis owns Duck Soup...

Duck Soup

Duck Soup is a small, friendly and busy restaurant in the heart of Soho, and I visited last week. They don't take reservations like quite a lot of places around there, which is cool, because anyone can get in, but also bad, because it is a small restaurant and if you don't get there early enough, you could be waiting at the door for some time (it starts to really fill up around 6.30).

Image c/o Duck Soup

The layout is similar to a lot of restaurant/diners around the area, with a large bar taking up most of the space, a reasonable-sized table in the back and a couple of tables squeezed along the wall (and I mean squeezed) - so you probably shouldn't come here if you don't want to be so close you can smell your neighbour's perfume.

We were handed a menu that was charmingly handwritten - I thought it was a nice touch. Unfortunately, on closer inspection, we couldn't actually read a lot of the writing and a lot of it was crossed out which looked a bit weird (not sure mistake or trying to look edgy?). Some of the menu was in Italian, so we had to ask in a most unsophisticated manner what about 7 of their dishes were, but the waitress was very obliging and patient whilst we made our minds up.

Once we had ordered the food and wine, we sat back (as much as we could) and waited for the food to come. It all comes out at different times, but it's a good thing as it's a kind of tapas-y set-up: we ordered a few small dishes and a few medium ones (partly under recommendations from the friendly waitress).

Our wine arrived (we went for a couple of glasses of the house white) and whilst I wasn't prepared for the yellow cloudy liquid (I was expecting a crisp Chablis. Not that I ordered it but it's what I expected of a house white. That was pretty prejudiced of me actually. Must try harder) it was actually pretty nice - quite sweet but flavoursome. The food arrived and it was even more impressive than it sounded like on the menu. We had:

• Deep-fried courgette with tahini yoghurt (amazing)
• Pork cheek on toast (far from what I imagined, it was a bit like parma ham: beautiful)
• Purple sprouting broccoli, anchovy, ricotta and chilli (some of the broccoli went a bit stringy after a bit but when hot, was tender and deliciously contrasting)
• Pumpkin puree, goat's curd and parsley (Easily my favourite, my only qualm that there wasn't enough) 
• Plump chorizo pieces (we ate this with sourdough, which was a beautiful accompaniment) 

All in all, it was a most pleasant evening with tasty, surprisingly filling food and friendly service but space was limited (And bring reading glasses for the menu)! 8/10

Annoying names you can call your boy/girlfriend / wife/husband

So, couples are annoying. Well, not all of them. I like the one I'm in, for example. But even the ones that are tolerable and I get on with still make me uncomfortable (that's the kind of person I am). You know, the times when you avert your eyes - when they kiss, when they hold hands, when they share a moment that you just know is probably some sort of disgusting shared sexual experience... And don't even get me started on people french kissing in public. NO-ONE WANTS TO SEE ANY OF YOUR TONGUE.

Anyway, this is a list of the names people call their boyfriend / girlfriend that just make my stomach turn:


My other half - so you are only half a person without them? Some say cute, I say you've set women's lib back 10 years. Because it's always a woman.
My hubby - I can't explain why this makes me want to stab them. It just does. Especially as it's usually by people who aren't even married.
The missus - See above.
My partner - just sounds a bit weird. It could be anything. A stone? Oh, and it's made 10 times creepier when 'life' prefixes 'partner'.
The ball and chain - Pretending your spouse is like prison. Hilarious.
Anything cutsey - like snugglebums, honeypie etc. Unless used ironically, it'll make everyone else vomit.

The Ancient Art of Greeting: Hello

I would like to think that for the most part in life, I'm pretty good adequate at social situations but have long been flummoxed by that dreaded 'hello'. You may laugh, but it can go horribly wrong. And being English, it is somehow so much worse when it does. 

The trick is in determining what kind of a person you are greeting, and what the situation is. If it's a work thing, or a bloke, you're probably safe with a handshake. That's still a minefield, though, because if they have a limp handshake, I almost instantly, inexplicably hate them because it makes me feel uneasy. Man up chrissakes, or at least pretend you're happy to see me! *

If it's someone you haven't met before, in a social situation, it could go either way. I favour a handshake because I can't really get it wrong and it's the most understated greeting, one up on the social ladder from grunting 'alright' and looking at the floor (a teenage boy classic). This is where agendas can clash. If it's a hugging thing, I usually go in for a straightforward hug with like, actual arms and stuff but more often than not, the other person will go for an audible air kiss and pull away - resulting in me not having done the kiss and am still clinging to said person. Very embarrassing.

If I do judge the situation correctly, and go in for one kiss, the other person will go for two. TWO?! Or even worse, more - when does it stop, am I supposed to hug them as well? Am I actually supposed to make contact with their face? If I pull away after one am I supposed to carry on if they do more or just pretend it didn't happen?

So to sum up, it can be very difficult to gauge the situation re: hello sometimes. My advice for other occasionally awkward beings in the hello situation: gauge the person, the situation and if all else fails move your head vaguely in the other person's direction. The rest of your limbs can follow if necessary (or just hang awkwardly at your sides, if necessary). In this instance, less is definitely more (unless you enjoy clinging to people for several seconds after they have pulled away. I know people that do).

* Embarrassingly I have been known to cry (usually only when I've been drinking) "That was rubbish! We have to do it again!" which will end up in a high-fiving competition. 

Threesome

I heard talk of the new comedy 'Threesome' on Comedy Central a fair bit on Twitter and thought that it might have some potential, the premise sounded ok and Skoose from Whites was in it.

So I duly streamed the episode on the website, which by the way, is pretty jumpy.

I tried to enjoy it. For eighteen minutes (I couldn't quite make the whole 21). But I just couldn't engage with it at all. The basic premise: Three best mates living together, one of them gay, two of them a couple. I'm sure that's been used before but it could work, right?

Unfortunately, there's not much going on plot-wise and I didn't even crack a smile once. The jokes were forgettable and the opportunities that did arise were thrown away (if I'd have coughed, I'd have missed the 'I can't even get paid to be a wanker' gag when one of the leads loses his job as a sperm donor. And wank gags are the best). 

So I probably won't be watching this next week. Well, maybe if there's nothing else going on. And all my friends are busy. And I can't change the channel. Perhaps I'm being unfair. But sometimes you just instantly take a dislike to something, and you can't quite put your finger on what it is - even the programmes that I'm a little ashamed to admit that I watch, I watch them every week because there is something there that I like. But here, unfortunately, nothing's clicking. Stay tuned...

Gig Photos

I took some photos at some Camden gigs. They're ok. Ok, well they're there to prove I was there...

Exit_International at Camden Barfly 16 09 11

Novella at Camden Lock Tavern, 16.08.11

Shimmering Stars at Camden Lock Tavern, 16.08.11

Twitter Crimes and Loves

I already have a guide of how not to use Facebook (Part I here and Part II here) but I wanted to do one for Twitter. Because Twitter, if possible, can be more annoying than Facebook. But despite boldly proclaiming that I would never get a Twitter two years ago, it's a really great tool when used properly. And sparingly. We all do it from time to time, but they are still... Twitter Crimes. However, there are some things on Twitter that have made me fall off my chair and it's also great because if you don't have someone's email address, just Tweet them - don't underestimate the power of the @ or even the #.

1. Using #hashtags purely because they are trending, not because you have something interesting to say. Currently #arealboyfriend is the Top Trend. I don't really think anyone needs to read them but they're all there for your viewing pleasure.

2. A play-by-play account of an event. Done well, it's hilarious. Especially when involving other people or unusual situations. Done badly, it's DULL. Like, even your mum wouldn't want to read it. Like:

• @crappyusername is watching Wallace and Gromit.
• @crappy username really wants cheese... Wonder why?!
• @crappyusername is going to the shop to get some cheese.
• @crappyusername got some cheddar. Sooo good.
• @crappyusername feels a bit sick.

3. Now this is a guilty pleasure. Twitter can be really annoying if you are missing your favourite TV programme (there should be an app for that. Is there?) but I LOVE reading reality show tweets. Particularly Made in Chelsea (particularly my cousin's) and X Factor tweets. The sheer cringiness of Millie's inability to complete a sentence and Francis' inability to talk to girls without sounding like someone's uncle is ten times better when accompanied by incredulous Tweets. It's kind of like the entire of the UK on Twitter unites in one thought. Weird.

4. Tweeting Celebrities. If you have something to say to them other than 'OMG UR LEIK FAMOUS HEHE' it's fine or talking about them, but WHAT IS THE POINT of talking to them purely to ask them for 'a cheeky RT because it's my dog's birthday'? You just wasted your opportunity to talk to your idol by talking about NOTHING. And if they do RT, well... You look a bit silly. 

5. On a related note, I once mentioned how (strangely) hot Neville Longbottom (Matt Lewis) was looking in the latest Heat. Heat picked up on this and RTd and I atually got a reply from the man in question. He said 'Hmm' (not the most epic of replies, admittedly). I think he was strangely pleased. Or  just really offended.

6. Celebrity Twitter accounts that are pages and pages of 'thanks!' and answering the same question twenty times within three minutes. Perhaps they think it's polite to thank everyone individually, but quite frankly, it's really boring, I have now lost respect. I'm looking at YOU, Stephen Mangan. 

7. Alan Sugar and Piers Morgan. Get over it. Your Twitter feud is now officially boring.

8. Minor celebrities trying to get verified. Up-yourself, much?

9. It's incredibly scary how easily companies can find you, depending on how good their social media campaign is. I've heard of people complaining about a company, and five minutes later are replied to by said company and placated for said grievance. I can't decide if it's great customer service or just a bit creepy. 

And that is why Twitter is both brilliant... And shit. I won't even mention that it's career-wrecking and career-making it can be. Well, I just did but you know what I mean.

P.S. Follow me if you're bored or if you think I'm even a bit entertaining or even if you think I'm a knob and you want to read my Tweets and think, 'what a knob'. Not that I do that.

@girlscoutuplate

Taking Pictures At Gigs: It's HARD.

It's great going to gigs. It's even better if you get some kind of record (so you can look back fondly and reminisce like, the awesome music, man) and also so you can boast to your mates about how close you got to stealing the frontman's towel.

As photography is not my forte, I just do it for fun. But the insanely cool people who are good at it, I have a lot of respect. Taking pictures at gigs is hard. First, you have to worry about obstructions. Being 5'2", there are a lot of obstructions. This usually results in photos which are mostly the back of someone else's head. Or bad placement of instruments over band members' faces. Like this:

Then, depending on what kind of gig it is, you have to worry about being bashed about by an over-enthusiastic windmiller or 'mosher' etc. which is not great for blurriness and even getting the subject in the photo. See fig. 2: No amount of photoshop could make anything except the bassist's guitar visible:

After all that, if you manage to get a decent-ish picture after all that, it's probably... shit. Because on your tiny camera they look like amazing pictures but when you get home and you see them on a bigger screen, they don't look that great. Because the seven pints you had whilst waving your camera around vaguely in the direction of the band are largely to blame. They were for dutch courage. And those three jagerbombs... they were for 'energy'.

Which is when you end up with this shot of a young man's crotch and rather larger, more impressive camera than mine.

So... people who take photos at gigs and still manage to make them look effortless and amazing, I salute you. I think I'll just stick to the reviewing.

Lisa Swerling's Glass Cathedrals

I was reminded today of a link someone sent me at my old internship and it put a smile on my face on a grim Monday morning.

Glass Cathedrals doesn't conjure up an image of a massive glass-fronted box with one or several tiny people inside but that's exactly Lisa Swerling has created.. With a multitude of designs, including a vast blue expanse on which is a woman on a lilo:

A collective of nuns:

And my personal favourite, a customisable one on which you can put the hikers on any part of the UK you wish.

Ok, so they're a bit pricey at around £400, but it's a really cool idea for the minimalist type. If I had money and a large amount of white wall, I'd definitely buy them.

All images copyright 2001 Lisa Swerling's Glass Cathedrals. 

http://glasscathedrals.com/

What's In A Name?

That which we call a rose... Sorry confused Shakespeare fans, this is not about Romeo & Juliet. This is about my actual name, which is a constant source of irritation to me (and occasionally a talking point). I was trying to think of a name for this blog and this is all I could come up with. It sounds er cool or something though?

I was christened Charlotte but I HATE it. I don't hate the name - very nice, normal name, but I hate being called it as my family decided when I was three that they were all going to call me Poppy (no explanation until I was about ten, it's a very boring story) and I got so used to this that I started to hate my name because it was no longer 'me'. Thing is, it suits me. I mean, you don't get opium from me, have a red face and green furry body but you see what I mean.

But how do I introduce myself formally? Can I really be bothered to explain EVERY time? Some people I've been emailing for ages have no idea that I hate my name with a passion. And why should they? Trying to establish my career as a journo, I simply don't want to confuse people as I am terrified of being credited with the wrong name - and lets face it, would you believe it was me if I showed you a newspaper with someone else's name in and claimed it to be me?

And thus, if I don't get in there straight away with the fact that I want to be called something different (and no, it's not my middle name), it's a bit weird (and largely irrelevant if I never meet them) and no, I do not want to change my name to deed poll. Far too much paperwork. So I'm stuck with two names and bemused looks from strangers I'm introduced to...