Gemma - Smarter Than Rabbits

I outwitted my rabbits today. I'd been feeling guilty about keeping them cooped up in the hutch since Sunday, so I let them out in the garden for a couple of hours to run around, eat all Mum's plants and dig up the lawn. When playtime finishes I usually have to run around the garden for about 30 minutes herding them towards the hutch and then catching them. It's no fun at all. But not today! Oh no!

I realised last week that Mrs Bun (the smaller, darker of the two) is much better at being herded than her wayward husband, but boy is she fast! So, ignoring Big Bun (the huge white lump) and his attention-seeking circling around my feet, I concentrated on getting Mrs Bun within the hutch. After she'd jumped in I SLAMMED the bottom door to prevent her from getting out. I then left the door on the top floor of the hutch open, because I know that Big Bun is capable of leaping up 2 storeys and getting in through it.

I stood back and watched my stupid white rabbit try and work out what had happened. He 'knew' his missus was inside the hutch, he knew he was outside the hutch, it's just that he couldn't fathom how or why it had happened. So, after a few nose-rubs through the bars, he started peering upwards on his hind legs trying to find a way in. And about 4 minutes later he worked out what to do and jumped inside.

Ha ha! Stupid rabbits. They are so predictable. I am much cleverer than them. I don't care if their brains are only the size of walnuts, it's still a victory in my eyes.

Has anyone got a spare tenner?

I have foolishly allowed myself to get carried away and bid on this:

http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=260027839276

It'd be ok except I can't actually afford the item. So if any of my friends are reading, can I have it as a gift please? You get my friendship guaranteed for the next 10 years in return, and if you think about it, that's actually a real bargain, especially when you factor birthday and Christmas presents in.

Revel Roulette

Dad bought some Revels tonight for us to eat during the TERROR docu-drama on BBC2. I ate a couple of small handfuls. The experience went off without a hitch and was going surprisingly well until THREE COFFEES IN A ROW. They are disgusting, I have no idea why Mars even bother putting them in the Revels mix, unless it's all a cruel joke, in which case I both despise and respect them.

So annoyed was I with this confectionary game of chance that I jovially described the experience of eating the Revels as being 'like Russian Roulette'... then I started wondering why they stopped making them with peanuts in and decided that my analogy has probably, in recent years, become literal, what with fatal allergies increasing. It'd give eating them a new edge though, wouldn't it, if you knew you could go from healthy to full-blown anaphylaxis in a heartbeat.

The TERROR programme was funny, lots of mentions of 'asses', 'balls' and 'butts'.

Money and that

Join up with this reputable website (it is reputable, otherwise I'd never recommend it) and you can get CASH for doing fun surveys when you're bored.

http://www.yougov.com/users/registrationintro_ref.asp?refid=369551&jID=3&sID=1

"As a member of the YouGov Panel you will be invited from time-to-time to participate in surveys on topics ranging from from politics to painkillers to pensions. Each time you take part in a survey, you will have your virtual YouGov account credited with cash amounts depending on the survey's length, or you may be entered into a prize draw. When you reach £50 in your account, YouGov will send you a cheque for that amount."

Starspotter

Walking back to my boyfriend's flat from Gloucester Road station, after a cross-London jaunt from dropping my car off in Crouch End (the only place, it seems, in this fucking city where you can park a car for free) I saw infamous womaniser Darren Day run past me. I must admit I was surprised that his highly-trained nostrils didn't sniff out my female hormones and cause him to gravitate towards me. He must have been in a real hurry to pass up the opportunity of a casual shag (I do not want to shag him, I just think that his body is incapable of passing female bodies without causing him to stop and try and put his penis inside them). He was wearing flip flops and ripped jeans and looked a bit like Jason Donavan circa 1988. As I watched him sprint down the street, dirty feet running awkwardly to conteract the flipping and flopping occuring through an ill choice of footwear, I thought of all the poor women that have laid their hands upon his backside; Anna Friel, Maxine off Coronation Street, Isla Fisher, her out of Hearsay...

What did shagging him ever do for their self-confidence, or their careers? Nothing. Yet they still fall for him, these blonde idiotic nymphettes... when will they ever learn?

SPACE INVADERS!!!

The X1 bus service runs a shuttle coach service from Peterborough station to my village every 30 minutes. It's mainly used by teenagers and old people, because the local yokels tend to use the cheaper, skankier Norfolk Green service. I prefer the swifter service because the tall seats offer less opportunity for interaction with locals.

So I was sitting on this bus, suffering with a migraine that I've had on and off all weekend. I was closing my eyes to shield them from the sickening glare of the sun, and happily daydreaming to myself about celebrity weddings. I opened my eyes briefly to check our position. Just then, a local's head (shaven and adorned with tattoos and flesh tunnels) popped up from the seat behind mine and addressed me directly, "Oi reckon you was asleep just then."

I was a bit shocked by this uninvited observation, so just smiled limply and replied in the negative. This would be enough, in normal circumstances, to repel any more unwanted comments, but this man obviously wasn't one for subtle nuances, and continued, like a vocal bull in a china shop, "Oi reckon if you wasn't then you was gettin' that way, why you asleep on the bus for?"

This too caught me off-guard, I firmly said "I. Am. Awake." and turned to look out of the window. 'Ha", I thought, 'try talking your local talk to the back of my head, you incoherant simpleton!' This wasn't what I should have said, obviously, what I should have said was "NOT THAT THIS IS ANY BUSINESS OF YOURS, MR YOKEL, BUT I HAVE A CRACKING MIGRAINE THAT FEELS LIKE PART OF MY BRAIN HAS DETACHED FROM THE REST AND IS WOBBLING AROUND LOOSLY INSIDE MY HEAD, AND I WAS CLOSING MY EYES TO SHUT OUT THE LIGHT BECAUSE IT FEELS LIKE A MILLION DAGGERS STABBING ME IN THE BACK OF MY EYES. AND FURTHERMORE, YOUR HARSH NORFOLK ACCENT IS CAUSING EAR DISTURBANCE AND GENERAL AWKWARDNESS, RESULTING IN NAUSEA. NOT THAT ANY OF THIS IS YOUR BUSINESS, YOU UNDERSTAND, I'M JUST SAYING THIS TO TRY ANDMAKE YOU STOP TALKING TO ME."

Harsh, you might think. Not really. When you catch a bus or tube or plane alone then you have paid for the right to sit/stand ignored for the duration of the journey, you can then pretend to ignore everybody else and amuse yourself by making mental observations about their dress/behaviour. It is an unwritten law that anyone who tries to chat with fellow passengers is either a child or a mental, and I don't want to talk with either of them. Why then, did this man think he had the right to question my bus slumber? Has he never encountered people catching a quick 40 winks on public transport before? This and the fact that he INVADED MY PERSONAL SPACE tells me that he is not a regular user of the Cambridgeshire bus services, or any public transport service for that matter. I was on the 10:35 from King's Cross earlier, no words were exchanged with my fellow passengers other than the perfunctory smile and nod, which is the only interaction you should need to have with strangers at any point on any journey, unless they offer you their newspaper or help you to put your bag in the rack above. Even then you should only make the politest of comments, unless invited (by body language or otherwise) to continue and have a conversation.

I am also concerned that this SPACE INVASION is continuing over into my blog, as a few comments recently left by 'anonymous' have suggested potential sharking, this is in breach of blog etiquette and all such comments will be ridiculed or deleted as appropriate.

Today's blog is dedicated to Croc-Agitator Steve Irwin



RIP Steve, keep worrying those snakes in heaven.

I have a new job!

Yes, after a few weeks of agonising poverty and bleak thoughts of begging I have finally secured some paid employment that lasts beyond September. You are now reading the blog of the 'Aim Higher Project Worker' for the Fenland district. This means that I'll be helping kids from local schools to experience university, by organising workshops, outings and residential schools. The idea is that we get more kids from this district to apply, because the Fenland region has an appalling track record of adult illiteracy and progression past the GCSE stage.

I did have to explain to HR (after accepting the job) that I had another job application in the pipeline. They'd only find out about it anyway, seeing as it's with the same institution. I think my honesty was appreciated.

It's not against any kind of rules to apply for two different positions within an organisation is it? I'm sure they can't penalise me for it.

I hope they can't.

Now I'm worried. Hmm...