Iron lady or fairy-tale princess

Like the millions world over, I watched the Royal wedding on Friday. Like the millions world over I was ecstatic when Kate Cambridge formerly known as ‘the commoner’ stepped out of the Rolls and into the arms of her prince charming and the future king of England. Nice one Katie! Ok, I admit I did turn a light shade of pistachio but then again, I’m a bit too old for him and I’ve had the wedding of the century. Young Kate you may have a shot at it plus I could never look that fabulous in a cinched waist dress.
Sat through God’s top ten, the signing of the register, kiss number one and two and a million banal interviews with everyone from the gardener to the family dog. Which is when things took a turn for the interesting, Sky TV panned into the going’s on at number 10 where a street party hosted by Mrs Cameron was on in full swing. Tables laid out with cakes and juice, festooned with balloons, clowns, making young and old laugh aloud. Yes, this was the royal wedding street party hosted for charities the Cameron’s sponsor.
That’s what brings me now to the million-dollar question, if given half a chance which side of Green Park would you live on? You could argue that the Buckingham Palace side is more permanent than the number 10 side, but for every Diana there’s a Jackie Kennedy. Even when it comes to the grand dames for every Elizabeth Regina Windsor, there’s an Angela Merkel. Titular head of state or economic mover and shaker…I know which side I’m on, hats off to you Mrs Merkel, you go girl!
Love you Katie, keep looking fabulous, keep the heirs coming and sure you’ll find tons to do in Angelsey. Fashion icon, ass kicker or humanitarian Godess, Samantha C, its your chance to make a mark on history!

The Great British 'staycation'

Welcome to the great British sea side, home of the legendary 'staycation'. For those of you not familiar with this turn of phrase, the 'staycation' is a neccessary evil those of us blighted by the recession have to make-do with when those much coveted Bank holiday week ends come about.
Treks to package holiday hell on charter air craft packed with screaming children and drunk groups of 20 somethings is now a thing of the past.
Instead long train rides, pebble beaches, freezing English channel waves, chalk cliffs, wafts of manure tinged air mingle with the clink of tea cups being sipped by old dears in fusty hotels on victorian piers. Those former times of flying to foreign shores are now replaced with trips to the great British sea side! With the rain in Spain, the British pound on life support and the Royal wedding around the corner, 'staycationing' on domestic shores is not such a bad thing after all.
What more could one ask for than lying on the beach listening to cheezy 80's music on "Cornwall's top radio station....pirate radio! ". Clearly I'm not alone in my 'staycation' euphoria if the masses of little people braving the artic water and their adult owners lazing in bargain basement foldable chairs, munching on tuna sarni's, is anything to go by.
Nothing comes close to thrill of knowing there's another three days of lazing in the Sun with no airport nightmares to brave so that we're back in time to watch Will's and Kate tying the knot from the best seat in the house, our living rooms.
With that said, let's raise a toast to the best of British!The Sea side 'staycation'. Cheers!

‘Fondle slabs’ and other pieces of kit

Do I or do I not join the ipad ranks? Do I or do I not succumb to the totally unfounded notion that I need to have the ability to connect on the move, over and above my ‘always on’ smart phone. Will I become a walking talking font of creativity if I have my fondle slab’s in grabbing distance incase that life changing idea strikes me and I need to record it before it flitters away. I think not…
However there are some that would vehemently disagree especially those who queue up for hours outside the Apple store four times in a row to get the ipad 2 and still don’t manage to. Why on earth would anyone waste four evenings of their lives (especially pertinent for us who’re not getting any younger) waiting to get their paws on something that’s going to be out of date in 3 or 4 months anyways? Do you or do you not shell out 500 big one’s to feel cheated in a few months? Yet another of life’s existential questions.
I for one will probably fall prey to the onslaught of the pad. Not because I’m a follower of the cult of Jobs but because technology has a way of molding the environment we live in. You either get on board or get left behind. Imagine a world where Facebook currency is legal tender. Paulo alto replaces DC. Zuckerberg runs for president. Scary thought for some (ok maybe the Zuckerberg bit would be) but for other’s it means a world where we’re a global village, boundaries become redundant, connectivity is a human right and we’re all plugged into making the world a better place. Orwellian night-mare or Utopian dream. I choose the latter…do you?

An Ode to Spring Time

Don’t you love it when the sun shines and you fall in love with the world once again?
The days get longer, the hem-lines shorter, people smiling at each other and saying hello like they mean it.
Mini convertibles with their tops downs being driven by beautiful David and Victoria Beckhams.
Young bucks and giggly girls spilling out of pubs, beer glasses in hand, linen’s and sunglasses galore.
White skin for miles around, it’s going to be a couple of weeks before the tans kick in.
Walking to the park means weaving through lines of twin or triplet buggies and yummy mummies in designer khakis.
Cheering dogs cavorting freely sans freezing owners, wow, what a turn around!
Green shoots, cherry blossoms, magnolia flowers abound.
Pastel colours, flowy fabrics, floral patterns, strappy sandals hit town
Wasted gym memberships, hay fever, flowing noses a few frowns
But what I love best are the amorous pigeons, with their struts, feathers puffed up, cooing sounds. Impressing those pigeonetts is hard but that’s what spring time’s about!

And there's life on Mars

There’s always a first time and this one’s mine. I’ve always written about the pains us women face when it comes to the opposite sex, especially in the big bad world of dating. Guess, what this post is about the men…and their dating nightmares. For those dating veterans like Ms. Rate a date (www.rateadate.blogpost.com) this might come as a bit of a surprise but it’s not any easier for the boys. I was talking to my favorite (and only) vampire today, he shall not be named as this was a pretty personal conversation and the last thing I want is to lose his super-natural friendship. Anyways, so he was saying that he tried this Internet dating malarkey and is totally put off by it. Who’d have thought that the Vampires would have the same problems eh? His pet crib was that he spent all this time writing the perfect profile, not too long or too short. Enough detail to show what an interesting guy he is.
His photo’s were vetoed by his female friends so no bloopers there either. He even went through the pains of reading the profiles of the ladies he deemed worthy and wrote openers that had to do with their pet fears …like flying…his advice, get flying classes, that should do it….Hmmm, I know I’d definitely respond to an opener like that, would you?
Yes, he followed the rules to the T. But lo behold, no one did him the courtesy of writing back to him. Bloody women eh!
As Vampires go, he is a good looking chap and yes the accent is very charming if you’re into that Meerkat thing.
My advice to him was to pick the ‘right’ type of women. Firstly, make sure she’s well travelled, accomplished, has varied interests, well read is good too the looks are pretty secondary I think (to which he agreed, hence the glowing reference). I think it’s a pretty fool-proof way to filter out the stereo-types. Pretty sound advice I thought, and given how pro-girl power I am. Another male friend say’s that its much like the real world, surprisingly enough. It’s usually the men who approach the women and not the other way round (bloody women eh!). Then there are the girls who go for the wrong types (sour grapes). And finally it’s a numbers game(if you live in the North Pole it is..and Finland I guess). My response to the ‘wrong type’ bit is usually that when we hit 30, we grow a brain so my sound advice to you gentle men is stay away from the little one’s its their time in the sun, let them play the field. Its 30 and beyond where our biological clocks take over . To the numbers game thing…I guess when you’re living in Finland it would be. There’s one woman to every 100 reindeer or some statistic like that. I guess there’s some truth in the adage ‘location, location, location!’
Take England for example we might have rubbish weather, no high speed internet, crumbling plumbing, shoe boxes for homes, rubbish collection disasters but hey, you wont find many places where match.com has a few million subscribers and there’s someone or something for everyone.
God bless Britannia!