Rapunzel: Why didn’t you stay in the tower?!

As a rule with most things Disney, I can tolerate the product for a certain amount of time, with most of the DVD’s nowadays laced with jokes and innuendo suited for the adult audience.  And whilst this film is quite funny, it doesn’t half lose its appeal after so many viewings.

Tangled.

Another classic story given the animation makeover.  The story of Rapunzel had escaped me in my own childhood but thanks to this film, I now understand the repeated references I missed over the years.  It is not the story that irks me.  It’s Disney.

Yes, marketing is a big issue in business and you have to make your items attractive to all ages at all times.  But not that much, surely?

It’s a drug.  No, really.  Addicted to watching, sore eyes, inane laughter, wanting to dress up?!  Come on, it’s worse than coffee or LSD!

And for a three year old you can triple the addiction factor.  I have been made to watch that film for what feels like every day for the past year.  As i said, it was funny in places, and that chameleon still makes me smile when I’m off guard, but enough is enough.  Disney has a duty to stop making films so………… needy.  Apparently my daughter has to watch it.

And this has side effects.  We recently had a party at home for the girl’s third birthday.  Can you guess the theme?

Rapunzel.  Those big Disney eyes plastered on posters, banners, table cloths, cups, etc.  Everywhere.

It’s true its not just Disney, but that was the thing on the TV when I popped home for my lunch.  Drives me mad.

If you’d stayed in your tower, they couldn’t have made a bloody film about you!!

Rapunzel: Tangled

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Notable absence

Once again I’m here to apologise, I have been neglecting my duties as a blogger.

What with the daughter’s birthday a couple of weeks ago and work commitments, I have been unable to get on and write to you, dear readers.

My work load has increased exponentially in the last couple of weeks and I have been so busy it’s ridiculous!  However, despite being hugely busy at work and at home, I have now decided to carry out a want of mine, that has been festering for some years.

I have always thought myself as somewhat proficient with the English language, compared to some people, and I also have a (partially) creative mind, so obviously I have always wanted to write a story.  I won’t say book because I doubt it will ever get that far, with me probably giving up halfway through, but I’m going to give it a go.

I have a basic outline of what the storyline will be and I have even thought about characters, so the foundations are there, I just need to get on with it.

The problem I have though is belief.  I write these things, poetry and the like, but don’t believe that they are any good or worth reading.  Don’t get me wrong, I am hugely appreciative of the few of you who have commented on my attempts at poetry, it is very kind.  I still don’t think anybody wants to read them!

With writing this story, I’m doing it for me, to see if I can actually create a complete writing project.  If anybody reads it and gains pleasure from it, that’s a bonus!

Anyway, enough with my fantasy world, I hope everybody is ok and I promise I will return shortly with something worth reading.

Thank you!

Wannabe Writer

Working from Home

Surely that’s enough
I’ve had all I can take
The last hour has been tough

The day had started well
But it has just dragged on and on
Everyone feels the same, I can tell

The filing has all been done
I’ve packed away my belongings
Now is the time that we were gone

Hoping the boss doesn’t see me sitting
Blatantly doing nothing
Looking at the job section, seems quite fitting

The clock appears to be slowing
Maybe it has stopped entirely
It must be time for us all to be going?

Wait for it…. Bang!  That’s it!
Five o’clock means it’s home time
Computer off, coat on, it’s time to flit

Key in the door, the week is complete
Forgot about work and deadlines
Head to the kitchen, find something to eat

Now, there’s nothing to do but sit and look
What now? Watch the telly? Read a book?
Oh hang on, just got to check Facebook….

Slave to the Computer
Check out my other poems here.

A Valentine Adventure

It’s that time again
It comes but once a year
A single day
That fills a man with fear

A fear that is not apparent
Well, not at first anyway
Give it time though, just wait
It only happens late in the day

………………… Oh dear.  Oh my.
I can’t believe I’ve done it again
How did I forget it?
This day can only end in pain

It’s ok, she’s not home yet
There’s still time to save myself
Make a dash to the shops, pick something up
If I don’t, it’s going to be bad for my health

Card and flowers will be enough
I hope there’s still some left to take
Turn the corner, look to the left
All I see is emptiness, for f***’s sake

Damn, she’ll be back soon
Better grab something quick and run
Pick a card, take some choc
Pay at the counter, right I’m done

Arrive home, act normal
Back just in the nick of time

Check the card to make sure
………….’Happy Mothers Day’…………
At least I have the chocolates
Hang on, what does that say?!
Who the hell stacked these shelves
Why would I want a box of chicken satay?!

I think this will not be forgiven
I never did like February much anyway
I hope I’m not the only one to suffer…

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Happy Valentines Day

Check out my other poetry attempts here.

Is Valentine’s Day for children?

I know, weird question right?

I should specify my intentions really.  I don’t mean school goers entering into the world of their first crush’s, or over-sexed teenagers lusting after anything with a pulse, no my question relates to something a lot simpler.

The purchasing of cards by your toddler / baby.

Now, I have bought a Valentines card for the wife from the cats before, but that was a bit of fun.  The expectation is there, I feel, that it is my duty to buy and give cards from my three year old and 11 week old to their mother.  As a gesture.

I don’t know, is this a normal done thing?  Does anybody else buy the childrens card for Mummy? 

I know it’s a nice gesture, as a sign of appreciation I suppose, but isn’t that what Mother’s day is for?  Why do they get two occasions?!

With this being a simple cash flow operation (spot the old romantic in me!) for Hallmark and the such, I am loathe to part with any more cash on these sort of opportunities.

However, am I just being mean spirited?  It’s true that I don’t like spending money and this is maybe the reasoning for my questioning and doubt.

Valentines Day for Mummy

Children: Do they have to have a birthday every year?!

I apologise for my absence and lack of posts over the last few days but as the title may suggest, I have been a little preoccupied recently.

Yes, my darling daughter was three yesterday and the last week or so had been booked out for ‘planning’.

By that statement you would probably assume that the whole thing was a large affair with lots of guests, attractions and the odd wild animal.  But you’d be wrong.

The day was a simple one.  Food and drinks, at home, with the family.  Simple.
If you’re organised that is.

I had made the downstairs look all birthdayish, banners balloons and the such, and the presents were wrapped and positioned correctly.  This I can do, by myself whilst watching the telly.

But on the day, I just don’t work well when other people are involved.  Mind you I don’t work well at the best of times, but when it involves cooking it’s best to leave it to other people.  I end up forgetting times, what I’ve cooked and where I left the scissors, or I just end up eating most of it as I go along.

Anyway, all this aside, I think the day went perfectly.  The daughter was delighted with all her presents (her new bike being the favourite), loved the fact that so many people came to her Rapunzel party and ate most of the food on offer.  She was happy.

And a highlight of the day was the specatacular cake that was made and supplied by Aunty Amy.  What little girl would not be astounded to receive a replica Disney castle?! In a hope that she reads this, thank you Amy, you are a very talented genius.

And that’s all that mattered.  And as an added bonus, even after all the food and drink consumed, the usual bedtime was adhered to and it was a relatively peaceful night for everyone.

Now, how does one remove tyre tracks from one’s living room carpet…..

Happy Birthday Rapunzel

Children Shopping: No I don’t want to buy one

Another weekend has ended, and the monotonous depressing grey of Monday has arrived.  Great.

Work this week is going to be busy, as usual, with meetings, endless typing and a lot of boring and irrelevant talking.  I suppose that’s normal but I wish something different would happen.  Anything.

I might have to change the brand of my tea bag for excitement.  Whoa there, let’s not get drastic!

Anyway, at least the weekend was enjoyable.  Sunday was the usual, a bit of tidying here, a bit of lounging there.  Saturday however was different.

On Saturday, I went out on a ‘Daddy / Daughter Day’.  Nowhere exciting mind, just out to look around the shops in nearby Chelmsford.  Now this may not sound like an adventure, but I’ve only before taken her out on my own to the local town for a couple of hours.  Where we live it is not possible to take her out on my own too often, so we usually always go out as a family.

A taxi and train ride was completed successfully.  A wander round the shops (on Daddy time and not to the march of Mummy!) was pleasant.  Lunch in Burger King was enjoyable (no burgers were consumed, neigh!).  It was just a nice change, you know?

The darling child did not play up or try to run away, which is always a fear when single parenting, and the day was very nice.  Spent too much money though.  Her fault.

This only emphasises to me the need to get back to living in a town.  The countryside is nice and quiet, but the lure and accessibility of a town centre can not be ignored.  I’m a city boy really, I miss it.

Two options; move or learn to drive.  Both expensive and both take time.  I want to do both but it’s just not possible.

It is true, which you don’t realise at first, that children do change your life in more ways than you could ever imagine.  I didn’t realise that the kids would make me want to move back into a town.

If only I could change things….

Father and Daughter

Wits End

I need a new job.

Seriously, there’s got to be something better than this?!

Before you start having a go at me, ‘nobody likes their job, it’s just life’ (said in a typically sarcastic tone) I know all this.  I know that there are people with worse jobs than me, I mean, I don’t ever want to have a job that involves clearing drains or old people.  And certainly not one that combines the two.

I know I’m in a kind of privileged position too, I’m a Civil Servant.  There, I’ve admitted it in public, I can not hide anymore.  It used to be daubed as a ‘job for life’ but obviously nothing is guaranteed anymore, especially with the Government’s doing their best in times of austerity, but compare it to someone who has to work for an agency doing temp jobs all over the place or those people who used to work for Blockbuster, I’ve got it easy.

On that, I used to do some work for an agency in the area where I live, it was horrible.  They pay crap money and the jobs are awful.  I remember one time I turned up to their office, jeans and t-shirt as they specified casual, I got on the minibus with the other condemned individuals and we were taken to the destination. On this occasion being a milk packing factory.  I was given a what seemed to be easy job, of taking the bottles of the conveyor and putting into the cages for transport.  Oh. My. Bejesus.  It went so fast!  I would of been paddling in it by the end, if I had made the end.  Jeans and t-shirt remember?  June.  Factory.  Lots of work. Paper coveralls.  Pass out.

Mind you, it was easy money.  Just pass out for a couple of hours and you’ve earned money not doing anything!

Anyway back to the subject in hand, easy job blah blah.

I’ve been in my current post for nearly eight years and as you would expect a certain amount of fatigue has set in, it’s only normal.  But my enthusiasm for my job is ebbing away so fast now.  I’ve never been one of the many who clock watch all day and just fill up their days by doing their nails, phoning every single person they know on the job’s telephone bill or staring out of the window.

Until now. There, I did it again.  I just looked straight out of the window!

Obviously, this also includes writing on this blog, instead of doing work.

Now, I can be a creative soul, to some degree I have to be for my official job, but nowadays I can’t think of the ideas like I used.  No its not my age, I refuse to believe that my cognitive capacity is dwindling just because I’m now thirty years old. Refuse.

It’s just work actually come to think about it.  Look at how often I post onto this blog, not very regular is it?  That’s because when I sit down to write something, ……………………………….

It’s gone.  There’s nothing there, not a single iota or nugget of an idea for a topic of conversation.  I’ll tell you another thing….

Nope.  It’s gone.  What was I talking about?

 

English: A bored person

Bored at Work