What Your Wrapping Paper Says About You

By this point in December, most people have already assembled enough gifts to begin thinking about wrapping them (unless you buy everyone e-vouchers, in which case, your soul should be with you in 8-10 days, non-priority shipping).

We like to disguise our gifts, mostly to keep our friends and relatives from guessing what’s inside them until they snap on Christmas Eve and have an uncontrollable fondle. But did you know that your choice of wrapping says a lot about you? Read on to find out what your paper reveals about your Christmas personality. See if you can spot yourselves!

Your paper: Has owls, foxes or similar trendy hat-wearing woodland animals on it

What it says about you:

This year, your wrapping material and most of your Christmas shopping was achieved in Paperchase. Your favourite thing about Christmas is the return of the festive lattes to the coffee shops. You probably own one or all of the following: a jumper with a fox face on it, button-up mittens, a File-o-Fax.

You’ll get everyone: Copies of the novel you finished this year.

You’d love: A new laptop carry case or a Starbucks gift card.

Your paper: Remnants from last year

What it says about you:

Wow, is it really Christmas already?! You are like, so totally swamped, what with work and things and stuff and parties and socialising and that. Thank God you found this lurking in the back of the airing cupboard. It’s slightly wrinkled, but if you pull it really taut around the gifts, people won’t notice, right? Right?! 

You’ll get everyone: It doesn’t matter – as soon as it’s wrapped, you can’t remember it.

You’d love: To wake up on Christmas Eve and find the wrapping done.

Your paper: Is traditional, festooned with bows and individually tagged

What it says about you: Your house looks like Christmas prematurely came (in both senses of the phrase). You planned your gift list in October, had it all bought by the first week in December, and everything was wrapped and under the tree by the time the first carollers came a-knocking. You made a ‘wrapping playlist’.

You’ll get everyone: A festive centrepiece, home-delivered

You’d love: A personalised 2014 calendar

Your paper: is tin foil

What it says about you: You saw the Christmas episode of Gavin and Stacey and thought Smithy’s foil-wrapped gifts were hilarious/a bloody good idea. You do all of your shopping on one day, preferably within your lunch hour, in one shop. Frankly, to do it any other way would be daft.

You’ll get everyone: Pretty much the first thing you see.

You’d love: Whatever you bloody well asked for. I mean, it’s not that difficult, is it?!

Your paper: comes in three complementary patterns

What it says about you: You and your partner give out cards with yourselves in silly hats on the front. You’re hosting the Christmas party, you’ve made sure there’s a nut roast for Joshua’s vegan girlfriend, and you get everyone to take their shoes off when they enter. You made your own Gingerbread house.

You’ll get everyone: Homemade jam (it’s a touch runny, but it’s OK, you wrote “Watch out, I’m a dribbler” on the cute label)

You’d love: a mug with a cosy on it.

Your paper: was whatever Boots had near the till

What it says about you: You have all the patience of a three-year-old with a full bladder. You have five rolls of the stuff left over due to buying so much to accommodate your habit of wrapping and re-wrapping. You dread Christmas prep and bought Gluhwein in abundance to prepare yourself.

You’ll get everyone: the most awkward shaped gifts, much to your own dismay.

You’d love: to regain feeling in your taping hand.

Your paper: has ruled grids on the inside

What it says about you: This year, the person you usually get to do your wrapping snapped and told you to ‘bloody do it your lazy self’. Any kind of decision panics you. You leave wrapping until the last minute and have to sleep under scraps of it in front of the tree to intercept the early risers.

You’ll get everyone: Something they can clearly see through the gaps where it doesn’t quite meet

You’d love: Stuff in posh boxes you can keep and recycle for next year

Your paper: has a comedy slogan/cartoon characters on it

What it says about you: On Dec 1^st you tweeted a picture of you wrapping up your cat. You accidentally mix your drinks, and end up wincing and pushing away your Auntie’s hand when she offers you a Christmas Day Bailey’s. You can’t enter a room without screwing up your face and bellowing “IIIIIIIIT’S CHRIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAS!”

You’ll get everyone: Novelty gifts, such as jellybean-pooping reindeer.

You’d love: Novelty gifts, such as jellybean-pooping reindeer.

The Best of Christmas Yet to Come

After my shameful Bah Humbuggery in the previous post, I had a little think about how grumpy Christmas and all its irks and quirks made me feel, and would you believe it, I fell asleep at my desk.

I was awoken by the rattling of chains and the stomping of feet. In my groggy state I mistook it to be the ringing of choir bells, so I sat up and launched my slipper at the window, punctuating its dull thud with a hearty “PISS OFF!”

Then a spectral voice behind me called my name. “Wiiiiiiibs, Wiiiiiibs,” it howled, rattling its chains.

“What do you want,” I barked, picking up the remote and flicking the TV on.

“Turn off the teeee veeeeee...”

“What?” I snapped, over a deafening advert for the latest Transforming-Mega-Morphiniser-Bot-a-Tron, with laser night vision and new jack-knifing action.

“The teeeee veeeeee...turn it off...”

“Turkey what?”

The remote was snatched from me by a clammy grey hand and the TV flicked off. I looked up into the ragged face of the spectre, and found it looked a lot like-

“Holy crap, you're me. Or me after three glasses of whiskey. And your roots need doing.”

“My roooooots aren’t impoooooortaaaant!” Boomed the spirit, and thunder and lightning cracked outside. “I mean, my roots aren’t important. Look, have you got five minutes? I need to lay some truths on your fat ass.”

“Yeah, whatever, there’s nothing on anyway.” I shuffled over and patted the vacant side of the sofa. “And there’s no need to be personal. Ectoplasm or not, your ass is fat too.”

The ghost sat down, its chains rattling. “Ahh, thanks. The buses are a frigging nightmare at this hour.”

“What’s with all the bling-bling?” I gestured.

“Oh yes,” said the ghost. “Look, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Basically I’m the representation of you if you don’t buck your ideas up and stop being such a Christmas crank.”

“Wait, you’re the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?” My eyes widened. “What a rip-off. Ebenezer Scrooge got three ghosts, and I just get the last one? And what’s more, you talk, and you’re not even a Muppet.” I slumped back in the sofa. “This sucks.”

“This is what I mean,” the ghost sighed, rolling its eyes. “You’re expecting too much of Christmas, setting it up for a failure before this one has even started.” The ghost got up and poured itself a whiskey from my decanter. “Look, you must have enjoyed Christmas as a kid.”

“I did not,” I lied unconvincingly. “I was a prim young lady who never once pulled any crackers or egged any nogs.”

“Oh please,” drawled the spirit, “You loved it. One year you even got a Barbie for Christmas. Your feminist friends would be shocked.”

“Fine,” I said, folding my arms. “Look, what do you really want from me? I was only poking fun in my last Blog. Nobody reads that shit anyway.”

“Do another post,” suggested the ghost, slumping against the liquor cabinet. “Only this time be honest about what you like about Christmas. And none of this Hallmark Cards family and hugs bollocks; tell me how you really feel.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And then you’ll fuck right off?”

“Then I’ll fuck right off.”

“All right,” I sighed.

--------------------------------------

THE TRADITIONS

When I was a kid, both sets of Grandparents lived eighty or so miles away. We would make the trip down one year, and my Grandparents would come up to us the next Christmas. When my Grandad died, we still made the trips up and back. Then my Grandma died years later, and my Uncle made the trips down to us, and then I moved out and got married and now have a fledgling family of my own to organise at Christmas.

But one thing always remained the same: every Christmas morning, no matter which bed I woke up in, my brother and I would always have a full stocking sitting at the end of the bed. Sometimes it was Father Christmas’ doing, then my parents’, and then my husband’s, but it was the same every year. Then, my brother and I started doing them for my parents. Every year we’d comb the shops for little palm-sized gifts: lip gloss for Mum, a photo snow globe for Dad’s desk at work. It was so much fun putting them together on Christmas Eve, in my room while music played, trying to figure out if the snow globe would crush the satsuma or if the bath bomb had leaked glitter everywhere.

What I'm saying once you scrape off the layer of sugar is that no matter where you are or who you celebrate with, sometimes you want to hang on to a ritual that makes your Christmas happy. Everyone has them, and everyone should.

THE COLD

Cold is under-rated. In the summer you can take off clothes if you get too hot, but you risk the threat of public indecency. And even if you can strip right off, what happens if you’re still too hot? You can’t take your skin off. If you’re cold in the winter, you can warm up by sticking on the heating or a sassy Christmas jumper. Or, rather brilliantly, our bodies will warm themselves up after a brisk walk through the town centre or at the seafront (the only time I will ever endorse any kind of physical activity).

The cold makes us all equal: absolutely nobody on the planet looks hot in Ugg boots. Sure, you may have amazingly toned abs, but jumpers make you look cuddly rather than chiselled. If you went out in the summer in paisley or candy stripes or with trees and deer and bobbles and glitter woven into your clothes, frankly people would faint from shock. In Winter, nobody looks twice. Unless you’re wearing a dinosaur-themed Christmas jumper, then they look because you’re AWESOME (Santa please take note).

THE ADVERTS

I hate, hate, hate adverts, and I think it started when hubby and I got a TiVo. It meant I could fast forward through the fat opera-singing idiots and talking meerkats to get back to my choice of programme. Adverts wind me up so much, I believe that if I hadn't got a TiVo I would have put my foot through a lot of TV screens.

Christmas adverts, like the season itself, are basically amped-up versions of themselves, so by all means I should hate them. But sometimes, more often than not, there’s one or two miniature works of art garlanding the schedules. One year there was a memorable ad with a little boy waiting anxiously for Christmas Day to arrive, only to reveal he was urgent to give his parents the present he’d picked out for them. “Wait until you see it,” everyone had said to me, “You’ll cry.” Bah, yeah right, adverts make me dry-heave, not cry. But then it caught me by surprise during an airing of The Simpsons and I admit my heart grew a few times in size. Or maybe it was just indigestion.

Of course, there are the dreadful Christmas ads that blare annoying jingles and flash lights at you, but they are quickly forgotten. And if all else fails, you can make fun of the insultingly pretentious perfume ads. I've even made a fragrance ad bingo. Play along if you wish:

If the Brad Pitt advert comes on, drink until he shuts up.

THE CONSOLE WARS

I'm going to go a bit geeky on this one. Christmas just after new consoles are released must be like Christmas with a split-up family: each console releases flashier and fancier titles, hoping to win the love of its cosseted fans. It starts off in the summertime when the gaming expeditions start to premier their upcoming titles, and then launches into a frenzy in the Autumnal months with game after game hitting the shelves. There’s something for every gamer, whether it’s a big family play-fest guaranteed to get Grandma flinging the remote into the fish tank, the latest midnight release in a franchise, or that hot indie game that promised to “turn console gaming on its head”. Although games are now a lot more expensive, there is a much bigger range. Even if you’re a Grandparent who continuously buys an Xbox game for your Nintendo-mad Grandkids, you can now simply buy vouchers.

It’s similarly exciting for music fans. Artists start releasing ‘bonus editions’ of their albums: essentially the same one they released in January or February but with slightly different cover art and a few remixes or the latest single tacked on for good measure. Frankly why you’d buy the same album twice is anyone’s guess, but it must work, otherwise why would they keep doing it?

I'm more than happy for Uncle Ninty and Auntie Microsoft to keep fighting, because that means I get more shiny new gifts to tempt and toy with my heartstrings every winter. And what’s better than getting gifts?

THE GIVING

Oh yeah, you didn't think I’d let you get away without another dose of seasonal diabetes. It sure is nice to get shiny new things: there’s nothing like being handed a present covered in shiny paper for you to rip open and squeal over.

But then there’s also something so nice about giving. There’s something about going shopping with Mum and watching her finger something longingly, then sneaking back while she’s distracted and handing it to a winking shop assistant. Something magic about listening carefully to the little hints my Dad gives me and surprising him with something even he didn't know he wanted. Watching someone open a present they've probably already guessed you’re getting them; the glint of relief and gratitude in their eyes.

I groan when I hear Roy Wood belting that he wishes it could be Christmas every day, but then I kind of get his drift: if I could make my friends and loved ones as delighted without giving them something in a glittery bag, I’d be happy. So even though you don’t have to be happy or jolly or love everything about Christmas, be mindful of those around you and the things they give to you and what you might do for them in return.

-------------------------------

“Is that good enough?” I asked, exhausted.

The ghost nodded. “Yeah, I think that’ll probably do. It’s not going to win you a Pulitzer, but it's fine.”

“So am I saved?”

“For now,” said the spirit, reaching for my decanter once more. I flung my remaining slipper and it passed through its stomach with a whoosh.

“What was that for?”

“You said you’d leave if I got all holly jolly,” I said, slinging my feet up onto the sofa. “Now beat it, before I call the Ghostbusters.”

The ghost smirked. “You’re still a hell of a Grinch,” it drawled, fading away. “But you’ve got good taste in whiskey.”

The Worst Days of Christmas

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! There’ll be screaming and yelling and everyone telling you “Fuck me, it’s November already?! Oh God, I haven’t done my card list, I’ve no clue what to get the in-laws, and is that bloody Pogues record on again? Give me strength.”

Well spotted: those aren't the correct lyrics, but they are an amalgam of what pretty much everyone I've spoken to recently has come out with. Christmas isn't one of those irritating jumpy holidays like Easter that falls on different dates every year, but it sure takes everyone by surprise. And it’s not always a pleasant surprise, much like your gift from the weirdo that drew your name in the office Secret Santa (“Aww, a comedy reindeer that poops chocolate-covered raisins? Lovely! I've always wanted to fake-eat faeces straight from a grinning cartoon animal’s bum-end!”) 

I've not been around forever but I like to think I've had a decent grab-bag of Christmases: good ones, naff ones, ones I’d rather forget, but by far the worst bit of Christmas is the run-up to the actual period. December 25th seems like a huge unconquerable beast leering at us from a distance, and you both know you’re going to have to fight it eventually. So what’s the worst bits of the Christmas lead-up? I've come up with a few of my own for you to enjoy; maybe while you’re writing out your Christmas card list because you just got your first one from a girl that wasn't in your department but you should probably send one back just to be polite and then you have to send one to the whole team or you look like a rude dick and then you AAAAAAAAARGH.

THE SOUNDTRACK

Every year it’s the same. The Pogues get voted “UK’s Favourite Christmas Song” once again, despite being more dysfunctional than the Osbournes, and the nation celebrates by playing it again and again and again. There are roughly twenty popular Christmas songs in heavy rotation, and you have to listen to them wherever you go. And God help you if you work in retail - you get sent a CD or tape from Head Office, and that tape goes live on Nov 1st and stays on, looping the same songs until Dec 25th. If you’re really unlucky that tape will contain less than an hour’s worth of songs, which means in the average working day you will hear the same set of songs nine or ten times!

You could argue that it’s not fair to single out Christmas songs for this behaviour. Most shops and radio stations normally play Hot 40 hits, so if you hate pop music while you shop, you’re screwed. But the problem with Christmas music is the greater lack of choice. Let me explain: think of twenty of this year’s biggest hits, right now. Now get your friend to do the same. I'm willing to bet that your lists differed quite a bit. Now both of you think of twenty Christmas songs: did you both get the same songs, more or less? Yeah you did, don’t even lie.

And the boring increases: top ten hits tend to be about love/sex or the absence of it, which is a hugely broad subject, whereas Christmas songs are about...er...Christmas. And they tend to come in a very limited selection of flavours:

Not included: Songs with Winter/Christmas-Themed Music Videos, X Factor Winners, Novelty Bollocks, Religious Standards

And just like a really exclusive club, the Christmas song clique is hard to break into, so anything new or not in those three popular categories doesn't tend to get any airplay. So it’s the same old same old, year in, year out. Hurrah!

THE OBLIGATIONS

Christmas time is family time, and no, I'm not talking about that when I mean ‘obligations’ - I genuinely find family time a great thing about Christmas and don’t feel pressured to be all up in my family’s grille as of midnight December 24th.

What I mean by ‘obligations’ is this: the little things that are forced upon us at Christmas time. Since when did it become a prerequisite that you have to be cheery at Christmas, because it’s Christmas? Bah humbug. And please don’t tell me that you’re the kind of person who pressures others into going to church. By all means go if you want to go, but don’t guilt-trip people into participating in something that is no more a tradition to them than stuffing pickled eggs up your arse is to you. Nowadays people have different ideas about what Christmas means, so have a little festive tolerance.

THE SHOPPING

If you want to go out shopping in December for anything non-Christmas related: pint of milk, pair of knickers, AA batteries, you can forget it. As soon as Halloween has been cleared from the shelves, gift sets and novelty items rule, and people are flocking into town to grab what they can. I work in the town centre and quite often have to pop into town to grab supplies or lunch, and it suddenly becomes a blood sport. Kids run everywhere like shin-seeking missiles, harried men clutch fluffy slippers, mothers tear each other’s faces off over the last Moshi Monster on the shelf.

I suppose I should be thankful that I live in an age where there really is something for everyone. In fact, there’s more than just one option, which makes shopping for that awkward friend or relative a little easier. Plus, what with online shopping, I only have to brave the High Street when I've forgotten tags or run out of paper. And if you really can’t find something for everyone, there’s always...

THE SEASONAL TAT

The delightful aforementioned chocolate-shitting reindeer is a prime example of this. Seasonal crap, the likes of which you are going to wear/eat/display for approximately half a day before your tolerance wanes to nothing, festoon the shelves at Christmas like never before. I don’t mean useful things like Christmas lights; I mean 100% flimsy plastic, singing, jiggling or otherwise gimmicky rubbish that you would never in your right mind give to anyone, were you not still desperately shopping at 4:45 on Christmas Eve. I hate having to feign delight and enjoyment when I unwrap something like this (and thankfully all of my best beloveds are thoughtful, so I haven’t had to do this for years). But every year I see the shelves of Jingle Bell Rock-singing chipmunks and I feel sorry for all of the poor people who will be forced to coo “Aww, so it sings every time you come near it? That’s not going to get annoying at all!”

THE OVER-INDULGENCE

I am a terrible yo-yo dieter. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not one of those people that’s always on the South Beach this or the 5:2 that, I mean I am always losing six pounds and then gaining eight. I now know exactly what to do to stop putting the weight on: stop eating whatever I like and start doing a little more exercise.

Christmastime is not the friend of exercise. But it is the friend of sausages wrapped in bacon, and stews, and chocolates in the break room, and lush German biscuits and gingerbread and whiskey and custard. It’s everywhere! And it’s all massive, American-sized portions, drenched in butter and sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon! And then there’s the excuse: “It’s Christmas!” What the Hell, everyone. Because nobody tucks into a whole cheesecake washed down with a pint of cream, saying, “It’s Vernal Equinox!”

Saying “We’re going to have a trim Christmas” is like the captain of the Titanic putting down his binoculars and saying “We’re miles away, it’s just going to graze us.”

Tune in next time, where Wibs is visited by a familiar Seasonal spirit...

2013 is the New 2012

Have you taken a look back over my New Year archives recently?

Although I try to actively encourage you to read my blog, I'm going to have to ask kindly that you don't have a look back at any entry dated around December 26th or so. Everyone has an old shame - mine are my three-tone pink poncho, my dating history from age 18-21, and these old New Year blogs.

I'm not saying I was wrong to post them, and in fact I didn't always have the nicest start to quite a few new years. But now, with my impending wedding, my improving health and a job I love, it's a lot easier to see in the New Year.

With that in mind, I thought about resolutions. The end of December becomes a bit like a weird game of musical chairs; each chair is etched with hopeful slogans such as "Lose Weight" or "Quit Smoking" and when the music stops at midnight on the 31st everyone rushes for their pre-picked chair.

Like the desperate rush for the last seat, maybe we are treating our resolutions as a mad dash to an achievement. All of my resolutions fizzled out by roughly January 15th - when I failed to keep them in the first week, I pretended that I was 'against' resolutions anyway, or I sulked and gave up. Not the best start to any year.

With this in mind, I decided to look through my greatest hits of resolutions past, and have a re-shuffle. Who knows, it may help. Maybe it'll help one of my readers too.

"I Must Lose Weight"
Replace with: "Get Body Comfortable"

Pressure is never comfortable, and pressure to lose weight isn't going to produce a lasting result. It may be the catalyst for a drastic change, but if we rely only on stress as a motivation, it will disappear as soon as your target is reached and will only return when you put weight on again.
Think about who or what is pressuring you to lose weight. Is it a person - your friends, your partner, a doctor? Is it coming from a good place ("I'm worried about your health") or a controlling place? Sadly, I can't tell you how to deal with negative peer pressure simply because everyone's situation is different.
Do you have a wardrobe full of clothes you can't quite fit, or an event coming up that you want to look and feel confident at? Whatever your destination is, aim to be "comfortable", not "three stone lighter" or other such high-pressure goals. "Comfortable" might be 7lbs, a stone, a dress size. It's up to you to find that out.

"I Must Stop Smoking/Drinking/Spending"
Replace with "What Could Help Me Quit?"

As a fervent non-smoker, I don't know many of the reasons why people smoke - I understand it can be a social thing, or a habit, or a means of appetite suppressant.
I do know a lot of people who have quit, or are looking to quit. The first step that all of my successfully smoke-free friends took was to seek information. Do you think you'll miss the social aspects, or the ritual of lighting up? Maybe e-cigarettes are your thing. Even if you just visit a help site or speak to a friend who faced a similar struggle, you've already achieved your resolution.

"I Will Try Something New" aka. The Bucket List
Replace with "Figure Out What I Want To Achieve"

'Bucket Lists' make people feel different things: personally I find them a little bit tricky. I'd feel bad if my list ended up 'unfinished'.
Long-term goals are fine, but nobody knows what could happen. Swapping a list of ten things out for a shorter, one-item-at-a-time goal system might work better - for example, if you want to go travelling, break that down into smaller items such as 'head to the travel agents on my day off' or 'use ten minutes of my lunch learning a new phrase in a new language'.
If you want to do a Bucket List, my advice would be to keep it down to 10-15 items and leave it open-ended. This takes off the time pressure aspect which will stop you blaming yourself when life gets in the way.

Resolutions in General

If you've had a bad year, the easiest thing to do is look back over the gone months, picking out the worst things that happened and basing your resolutions around prevention methods - that's what I've done, and it's made me less happy come end of January. It's where all the negative words like "Stop" and "Quit" and "Don't" come from: closed-end words with no room for wiggle or evolution when your situation changes. What happens you vow to lose weight, and then you start a new job that takes up a lot of time and energy? If your resolution is 'Lose Weight' and you stay the same throughout January, you're going to see it as a failure.

Whatever your resolution is, make sure to steer clear of these words: "stop", "don't", "avoid", "quit", "give up". Instead, rework your resolutions so they contain more positive notions. If something seems like a mammoth task, chop it up into more bite-sized portions - break it down into stages and give yourself a proportionate amount of time to complete each task. For example, if you're dying to write a novel, make your first goal something like "Plan my Novel" or even "Search the internet for planning ideas".

When You Fail Your Resolution

Firstly, did you fail to keep your resolution,  or was your resolution inpossibly hard to keep? Re-evaluate your goal over time and figure out whether you can start right over from scratch or if you need another couple of days/weeks/months. You needn't be ashamed of your efforts.

And finally, have a happy new year. Do something that makes you glad - January can be a long month!

(As a side note, I'd like to say that one of my resolutions is to tweak this blog until I am happy with it. Changes will be occurring over the next month,  and as always, LADYBLOG appreciates your feedback.)

I'm An Animal, Get Me Out of Here

        “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”

        Gandhi’s words imply, then, that Britain is not particularly great or noble, because we as a nation are more than happy to poke, prod, annoy and distress our merry way through the animal kingdom.

        For many people, the start of ITV’s stalwart reality show I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here is a depressing time, with animal rights champions such as Chris Packham of BBC’s Autumnwatch and charities such as RSPCA repeatedly criticising the show. OFCOM received massive numbers of complaints in 2009 when camp mates caught and killed a supposedly wild rat - so why can’t they treat all of the animals with the same respect?

        I’d like to clear two things up. Firstly, I consider myself to be an Animal Activist. I’m reclaiming that word as of now, and re-defining it to mean “a person whose chief concern is the welfare of ALL animals, domestic and otherwise, in ANY situation.”

        Secondly, without naming names, not all charities are as morally upstanding as they seem. In my opinion, any charity that uses scare-mongering to brainwash children,  chases down high-profile names such as Game Freak or Ben and Jerry’s ice cream with ludicrous, headline-grabbing stunts and ignores the real plight of animals, even to the point of neglecting or even culling animals in their own care, is NOT for animals. I am sure that there are people affiliated with these companies that feel the way that I and many others do about animal welfare, but unfortunately they appear not to be in charge.

        So tell me this: if it’s not acceptable to catch and kill a live animal on TV, why is it acceptable to force a young woman into a room with a live ostrich, especially when you consider that ostriches are classed as a ‘dangerous animal’ here in the UK? In other ‘Bushtucker Trials’, spiders and snakes have their fangs removed and alligators have their mouths bound (don’t even get me started on that) but there was no way to ‘weaken’ the ostrich - bind its legs together, perhaps? Then we’d have had trouble. If an animal is not safe to be near a human, don't place it in a bloody great box on top of their head.

        In other trials, contestants thrust their hands into covered boxes to retrieve small star tokens that guarantee them and their camp mates luxury food items, but are also filled with various lizards, snakes, spiders, scorpions and certain other animals that would make the average viewer cringe. I’m told that these animals are very well taken care of during the time that they are not in the boxes. Emphasis on the last part of my sentence there. So because the handlers take care of them during the many hours they are not in the box, it's OK to have someone grab at them? You cannot sit a lizard down and explain it's all for entertainment purposes and they won't be hurt - the majority of them will be terrified when a groping hand comes into their enclosure suddenly. Is it really acceptable to stress them out for twenty minutes if we treat them with respect for the rest of the time?

        I know people don’t really care as much about non-domestic animals, and it’s not everyone’s fault. We’ve been conditioned to think that puppies are adorable and spiders should be killed on sight. But is that really the way a person or in this case a TV programme that claims to have ‘all animals’ in mind should behave? You can’t claim to be kind to all creatures if you overlook the vast majority of them. It’s like that famous saying that begins with “I’m not racist, but...”*

        There are plenty of other tasks that the camp can do that don’t involve animal cruelty - they’re in Australia, for crying out loud. Get them cooking an authentic Aussie dish, or working together to create some Aborigine art, or crossing a stream without getting wet. But then it wouldn’t be sensationalism, would it? And sensationalism apparently makes good TV. What a shame that we’ve regressed back to nothing more than bear-baiting.

        They say every dog has its day, and I think that I’m a Celeb’s day has definitely long gone. I really hope that next year, ITV will come up with a new format...but I don't hold out much hope.

*I would like to explain - I am likening the idiotic attitude of believing that you can deem yourself ‘100% not racist’ and then follow that up with a racist comment to claiming to care for all animals when in fact you only care for one or two. If you think I am implying anything else by that statement, think again RIGHT NOW.

^ "Chris Packham Attacks 'I'm a Celebrity's' "disrespect" of Animals", The Mirror Online, 22 Nov 2012. Retrieved 25 Nov 2012

Rename Me

I'm interrupting my usual blog posts for a quick (and hilarious) message.

Despite everything, I've decided there's not enough wacko in my life, and so I'm auctioning off my own NAME for charity.

The charity involved is the worthiest ever - last Christmas my Mum was hospitalised. It was quick, horrible and unexpected; but the staff at the Hospital were so supportive and brilliant. In order to do such a stellar job they needed specialist equipment which is only available in certain parts of the country. One of these was a NovaLung, a blood re-oxygenator. If we can raise enough money for them, they may be able to afford their own. It saved my Mum's life: no doubt it can save others.

And now for some FAQ fun:

Why are you doing this?

I’m raising funds for the Critical Care facility within Poole Hospital. Hopefully if we raise enough they will be able to afford a NovaLung, which was a vital piece of equipment in helping Mum through her stay in the hospital last year.

How do I submit a name?

You can talk to either Brawny or Xel when you see them, or you can visit my JustGiving page and donate online and email your suggestions to renamerebecca@gmail.com

Submissions will cost £1 each, with all funds going towards the Critical Care facility.

Are you changing your whole name?

No, just adding THREE middle names.

What are the limitations?

According to Deed Poll UK, there is a list of restrictions:

-         No obscenities (including slang or biological terms)

-         No titles e.g. Lord, Sir, Doctor

-         No punctuation, symbols or numbers, e.g. @

-         Nothing pertaining to criminal activity, racial or religious hatred

The restriction on first and middle names is 250 characters, leaving you lot 237 characters to play with. J

On top of this, I encourage you to be creative but not cruel – “Monkeyface” is funny, “Fatty” is not. Brawny and Xel will be vetting the submissions.

  

Can I name you after my favourite celebrity/product?

Yep! According to Deed Poll, I can be named after a celeb or a brand/trademarked name as long as I don’t start releasing material under that name.

What happens if someone has already picked my suggestion?

If you nominate a name that is already on the list, you can either think of another one or you can choose to re-nominate that name. You can’t knowingly enter the same name several times, otherwise it isn’t fair on others.

When is the draw?

My new names will be drawn at 8PM on Wednesday 30^th November at my local. Video will be taken of the event, which will be posted here and on Facebook.

Prior to the draw, each name will be placed in a bag. I will then draw the names out of the bag one by one. I am picking THREE names in total. There’s no going back, and I’m stuck with what I draw whether I like it or not! To soften the blow, I will decide what order the names go in.

What happens after the draw?

After the draw, I will sign the Deed Poll forms under my new name and send them off. I will then receive the documentation to change my name legally with the UK Passport office and the DVLA. My Facebook name will be changed to display my new name.

Come on guys, get thinking!!!

I'd Do Anything For Privacy...Including 'That'

I like Meat Loaf a lot. I'm actually talking about the actor-slash-singer, but given the size of me you'd think I was on about the foodstuff.*


Let me set this post up for you right here. I've always been a sucker for theatricality: in fact I'm writing this before I dash off to rehearsals. I like fantasy and romance; stories where the guy conquers adversity to be with the girl who will love him for eternity (and dresses like an Ann Summers mannequin). I also like huge hairy guys. So although he's roughly between the age of my father and grandfather, I still have a bit of a soft spot for Mr Loaf.

And get this: Meat Loaf changed his name. TO MICHAEL. O_O

I'm not the type of rabid fan that saves up to buy chunks of their idols hair on eBay, but I do make it my priority to check out anything that Meat's been up to recently.

I went through it all: downloading his appearance on gameshow screamfest Don't Forget The Lyrics, watching his alleged meltdown on Celebrity Appentice USA, catching him as a flustered bureaucrat on Glee's homage of Rocky Horror. I decided I'd have a little look on the web and find out what he's been up to recently.

I did begin this sentence with "imagine my horror", but that's a bit hammy. However I was frankly disgusted to find that there were videos of him fainting. Actual videos. People genuinely had nothing better to do while watching a gig that had been cut short due to Meat Loaf collapsing, so they filmed it while it happened.

As someone who frequently faints in public, I can honestly say that I feel incredibly angry about that. When someone faints, it's often a traumatic and upsetting experience: not just for the person who is ill but to those around them. It's often really shocking, because the last thing most people expect to happen in a normal situation is for someone else to just drop lifelessly to the floor.

Once it happened to me in a shopping complex, and my at-the-time boyfriend actually chased down and tackled a kid who had whipped out their mobile phone and started taking pictures of me.

How utterly humiliating!

I read an article of Charlie Brooker's detailing a man who had filmed his friend kicking a woman who had collapsed, while bellowing "THIS IS YOUTUBE MATERIAL". Thanks to that, I'm quite scared of becoming ill in public. What if I end up on the internet? What if someone robs me? What if my fiance isn't there to protect me?

Maybe I'm panicking a little. But when does whipping out your camera phone become acceptable behaviour? Obviously, being famous doesn't stop it: if anything, it makes it worse.

Fans might argue that they were doing Meat Loaf a favour. "We're highlighting his plight," they might say (in my head, as I try to reason with my white-hot fury). No, you're highlighting an unconscious man receiving medical attention. If he was conscious, don't you think he'd yell at you to stop?

But they don't know any better. I'm half expecting Sky News to run a feature on this, which ends like this: "Well that's all we've got time for, but remember: if you have any snaps of unconscious or injured celebrities, please send them to celebritybloodbath@mediatwunts.com."

You think I'm joking? The other day I was browsing news sites, and I managed to see a photo of the late Amy Winehouse's dead body. She was covered in something thin, possibly a bedsheet, but the contours of the body were very visible. It was incredibly disturbing. The next few photos depicted Big Brother contestant and Amy's close friend Aisleyne Horgan-Wallace breaking down. Not 'breaking down' as a figure of speech, actually falling to the ground and weeping.

Wow.

I'm not going to call for all-out boycott of the news. What I will say is this: the media has crossed boundaries, and has somehow justified the treatment of public figures as shallow entertainment vessels, even when they are in moments of dire need. And that attitude is spilling over into the public, so that the label now applies to all people. Someone collapsing in the street is now an "event".

I'll just leave you with this: the next time a person passes away or passes out, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to see it; I don't want to see their friends and family crying, I don't want 'tributes' to them comprising of stock image photos of them and vox-pops of the coroner. Time to stop. NOW.




*That ain't a dig at myself there; I like the way I look. If you'll pardon my conceit.



^ 12/6/09 YouTube, user 'PattiRocksVideos', retrieved 9/9/11


^ 3/4/11 YouTube, user 'Amordril', retrieved 9/9/11

News Bump

Twitter was rife with activity on the night of MTV's Video Music Awards.

Not that I knew anything about it - despite owning a smartphone, whenever big news goes down on Twitter, I seem to be miles away from it. The only thing I did catch was comedian Peter Serafinowicz's fake-joke back at the beginning of the year. (Google it, go on, I dare you).

But apparently people were using their 140 character limit to tweet about Beyonce Knowles; thankfully nothing involving Kanye bloody West this time but because she is pregnant with her and husband Jay-Z's first child. Which is truly lovely. No, it is! The world of celebrity is fickle; weddings never go without a hitch (pardon the pun), marriages dissolve like a urinal cake in a monsoon and people indiscreetly whack their neighbours and steal each others' offspring. It's like Eastenders, only with less David Essex.

All right, so maybe it's not quite that bad (although all of that has actually happened on Eastenders). But no sooner did she announce her pregnancy did some big mouth come along and accuse her of padding her bump.

Celebs have been accused of worse - remember the "has-she-hasn't-she" debate over whether or not Britney Spears had a boob job? Or if that really was Jennifer Aniston's real hair? But as I read this story I could hear the "AW, CAAAAHMAAAAAAAAHN!" building up inside me.

Here's the thing: pregnant women, from my limited experience, are not 'textbook'. There is no guide saying "This is what you will look like at six months", because it will all vary. It depends on the mother's height, shape, size, amount of body fat, how big the baby is, etc. It differs.

I'm not that naive. She may have padded her bump for extra exposure. But I'm willing to bet that her team of stylists knew she was going to announce her pregnancy that night, and tried their hardest to dress her in a way that showed her bump prominently. I'm betting that if it was padded, it was padded in order to draw more attention to the area - if she did only have a tiny bump when she announced her pregnancy, would the responses have been any less mean and disparaging? Instead, I might be writing about a blog that said "She's not really preggo, look at her tiny bump".

At the time of writing this, Beyonce has yet to comment - and good on her. She's spent her life in the media circus so she's learnt to neatly step over great big turds like this. Plus, the next few months will be crazy for her and Jay-Z, right up to the birth. Everything she does, says, wears, buys and eats will be picked apart. And I imagine she will be looking down at the flying comments and remarks, throwing her head back and laughing.

And as for the people who still think she's padding: OH NO! This is the first embellishment anyone has ever made, EVER!!!! Does this mean that Lady Gaga didn't really die on stage? Does this mean that Eddie from Iron Maiden isn't real? They all deserve to be, like, humiliated publically! Because we plebs have never worn push-up bras or suck-in underpants or fake lashes or anything like that, EVER!

(I'd like to point out that although I have linked to GLAMOUR Magazine online, I am not accusing them of anything at all. If you read that article they have provided a fair account of the story, and coincidentally are one of my favourite magazines.)

^ Article from Glamour Online: Jenn Selby, 08/09/2011

Business Acu(wo)men [2 of 2]

I'd like to start this post by doing a little explaining: I didn't write my previous article with the attention of starting a 'witch-hunt' against Melody, Jim, or any of the other candidates. I've seen some horrible things that have been written about all of the candidates and I didn't want to add to the slurry - merely point out that in a business sense, their actions were verging on the unscrupulous and I felt it unfair that Melody was praised by Lord Sugar for behaviour that didn't differentiate much from Jim's.

Speaking of bullying, why don't you go have a look at this delightful page, courtesy of charming tabloid paper The Mirror? It involves Susan Ma, this series' youngest candidate, and some pictures of her partying it up during her University days. According to the tabloid it is "hardly the image of someone hoping to win...[sic] and become Lord Sugar's business partner". So it's OK to judge her by these pics, taken before she went onto The Apprentice? Don't you think she worked hard, as well as playing hard? Just because of a few (rather tame) pics of her partying, that means she's not worthy to take up a serious challenge.

So on one hand we've got Melody getting away with it, and on the other hand Susan getting an (albeit pathetic) media backlash.

Now, I don't think that it's because Melody's a woman. I have been comparing Melody's behaviour to Jim's, and while there are some similarities, Melody hasn't actually done any out-and-out bullying like Jim has. Yes, she perverted the truth to suit her, but she also followed through on her product choice, making the most sales.

Now, I asked for your feedback and there was a good response. Nomi points out: "[Melody wouldn't have got away with lying if] her two male team mates not been the sweetest, most unassuming men in the process this year."

This reminds me of a story I heard from two different friends: one was a guy who worked in a predominantly male office. He told me that his office was a "boy's club", and spoke of the lengths a female co-worker had to go to in order to make herself heard: shouting people down in meetings, taking credit for herself first before anyone else could muscle in on her ideas - in short, the type of behaviour Melody (along with many other Apprentice candidates) has previously shown. He couldn't work out whether it had been unnecessary behaviour; he himself admitted that if she wanted to speak, he'd give her a chance, but in an environment filled with other boisterous characters, how else could she be heard? On the other hand, I have a female friend who is very happy in her work environment - despite being one of only two girls she is a valued team member, her level of expertise is above some of her colleagues and they still treat her with the respect she deserves. Also, she often kicks their asses at Call Of Duty quite often.

I read a feature in a recent edition of a women's magazine about crying, and how it's the last bastion for some women. One of the girls described that all she had to do to get out of a missed deadline was screw up her face and sob "H-H-He said I looked fat last night" and the boss would take the whole team to Wetherspoons for lunch. I've cried at work during a meeting, and it was the single most humiliating experience of my life. Other colleagues of mine have seen my boss cry, and said it wasn't particularly a strong moment. Crying is not a tool: for most women rather than being a defence mechanism it's the sign that they've run out of defences. How would you react if a female colleague began to cry? At the meeting in question I was with my male boss, and he looked incredibly uncomfortable (considering I've also fainted on the poor guy he's had a lot thrown at him in recent months!)

It was good to see Tom win The Apprentice this year. While he might have been the weakest link for the majority of tasks, he came up with strong ideas to add to Lord Sugar's repertoire and he knew how to interpret feedback from a research team. Melody looks to still be going strong, and good luck to her - she may be out for herself, but perhaps in certain business environments it is good to have one eye on your own back.

Wheels of Fury

I had the unfortunate need to borrow a wheelchair from the local town Shopmobility service last week, and as my other half Brawny was pushing me around the town centre I decided that, as a non-wheelchair user for the majority of the time, I would have a look and see how much of an effect my new wheels had on other people.

We started off by heading down the far end of the High Street. Firstly, the chair was uncomfortable for me as it had no suspension so every loose brick in the paving we hit felt like Brawn was running me over Ben Nevis; and I can only imagine how painful it was for him to be pushing his girlfriend (who will admit to being overweight) around terrain resembling a slab of peanut brittle. So we were both gritting our teeth, aware that it was uncomfortable and cumbersome for both of us.

After our trip down the other end of the High Street we decided to drop in on our favourite games shop. Luckily, all of the stands were placed far away enough for me to slip through and not bother other people, and there was a wheelchair ramp that enabled me to reach the tills. I did knock a few stands of games off, but that was entirely due to my own incompetence - in fact, a couple next to us helped me put them back, and we enjoyed a little bit of banter with them. So far, so peachy.

Upon reaching the main shopping precinct however, things got a little sticky. People started looking at me oddly, including one teenaged girl who stared at me so bluntly that I found myself smiling and waggling a hand at her - she at least had the decency to 'snap out of it' and smile nervously back, as if suddenly remembering I was human.

It seemed our biggest rival was the mothers with pushchairs. Brawn wheeled me into my favourite High-Street clothes shop, which was a lot more awkward compared to the games shop. It just wasn't designed for people who weren't walking, let alone wheelchair users. Just as I was looking at a pair of trousers, from behind us came a very quiet cough. Brawny turned, only to notice a procession of about three large buggy-pushing mothers. In all fairness they did ask if they could pass politely, but the only way to get me out of the way was to push me towards a group of girls who definitely did not want to move. Here, Brawny's powers of intimidation came into play: a gruff "Excuse me" from him and the girls scattered (without an apology of course). The mothers thanked us, but once they'd gone past a line of people started trickling through the gap we'd made for them, leaving Brawny unable to reverse me back to where I wanted to look. So there we were; stuck in the middle of an aisle, wondering if it could get any more awkward, when along comes a Shop Assistant with a bundle of clothes. And where does she want to put them? Right where I am, of course! At this point, we gave up and left the shop as quickly as physically possible.

Next, we needed to head upstairs. We headed to the lift, only to find it out of service. The one across the other side of the precinct was also, you guessed it, out of service. The notice on the broken lifts said to go through to the back of the nearest department store, which we did. It was pretty annoying.

Now, we all blame each other for rudeness in public. Kids blame old people, the elderly blame the youth, mothers blame bustling businessmen and women who in turn blame women with giant pushchairs. Everyone picks on others, usually the people who are the antithesis of themselves, so why bother to differentiate if someone's going to blame you anyway? The point is to make yourself exempt from the generalisation of others; especially if you come across someone who is physically impaired, has young children with them, or is carrying heavy baggage or items. Be mindful of others: if someone's in a wheelchair or on crutches, let them go on their way but don't stare as if they are exhibitions. If you're going to have a chat, don't do it in shop doorways. If you're cut up in the High Street by a stressed woman juggling two or more jostling children, let it slide. It may seem like common sense to most, but according to my soiree it appears to be something that a majority of people are lacking.

Business Acu(wo)men [1 of 2]

WARNING! Spoilers be ahead - or at least, they are if you aren't up-to-date with BBC One series THE APPRENTICE. I accept no responsibility if you choose to read on.

The Apprentice - or should I say the BBC's annual parade for the megalomaniacal - is back on our screens, bringing us another bunch of bright young entrepreneurs to goggle at on a weekly basis (and a few so fresh-faced they look like they've been dropped into the boardroom straight from the womb).

Now, I'm aware that saying "I think there's going to be a few bigheads in this series" is akin to saying "I think the Pope might be of the Catholic faith", but I guess the sort of characters that would apply for a high-profile position under the wing of a massive household name such as S'rAlan Sug sorry, Lord Sugar are bound to be confident, prepossessing, enthusiastic...and of course there are bound to be those to which the prefix "over-" applies to all of those adjectives. Let's have a look at some of these quotes, taken from the 'talking heads' section of Series Seven:

"To be honest, I am pretty great." (this candidate was fired early on)
"I'm like a really, really fine-tuned switch; if I need to tone it down, then I tone it down. If I need to tone it up, then I tone it up."
"I'm a Leon-trepreneur."
"Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are footprints on the moon."

And that last quote can be attributed to this young lady: Melody Hossaini. Now, before I go any further with her, I'd like to state why I am bringing her to your attention.

Anyone remember this chap from last year? Yes, "The Brand" was young and very foolish, but after his Baptism of Fire in the interviews stage during which he was eaten alive by Margaret Mountford and co., he went on to gain redemption after his appearance on You're Fired and a subsequent column in Heat magazine. He has become a caricature of himself and, love him or hate him, you have to admit that he has earned himself a bit of a break.

So what did Stuart do that was so terrible? Well, he lied his way out of (and eventually into) trouble, he twisted information around to suit his views before presenting it to his colleagues, he tried to muscle in and take over tasks assigned to others. He did all of this over the course of the series, while Melody did all of that and more during the latest episode.

This week, the teams were sent to sell British products in France. A sub-team from each was sent off to do some brand research in order to pitch to French retailers, one of which was La Redoute. While the sub-team did this, the rest of the team had a look at a range of British homeware and technology products which would be brand new to the French market. Instead of doing the research project manager Tom asked Melody to do concerning La Redoute, she decided to conduct a street survey to garner opinion on one of the products, a children's car seat that folded away into a backpack. Despite not having seen the product, she took a dislike to it and decided that she didn't want it to make the shortlist.

What we, the viewers saw were a group of French people expressing an interest in the product - several people told Melody and team member Leon that it was a good idea, despite explaining that a lot of families use the Metro system. Melody took this to mean that the product wouldn't be well received, and used this information along with her initial dislike of the product to convince Tom to go for another item; a kitsch-y teapot-shaped hanging light. Quite rightly, Tom explained "Well I'd be an idiot to push three people to sell something they really didn't want to."

Melody almost redeemed herself with her sales - almost. While Leon tagged along like a moth hanging around a lightbulb, whining that he couldn't speak French (or in fact speak at all), Melody made some great sales. She set up meetings with companies, and then she decided that she was the only one entitled to pitch to them. Her reluctance to back the backpack/car seat bit her on the arse in the boardroom, where it turned out Helen, who had done her research on La Redoute, had done an amazing stonking pitch to them and got them to place an order of 214,000 Euros (a boardroom record). Melody, Tom and Leon were brought back into the boardroom: Tom because he was PM (and didn't make any sales, which serious jeopardised his position), Melody because of her lack of team-play and Leon because...well, he did nothing this time.

And Lord Sugar loved her. Of course he did, despite Nick pointing out her fibbing and lack of motivation to do what her team wanted over what she wanted to do. Now, Lord S admittedly would have loved her if she had been a bloke, but how would everyone else have reacted to her?

Let's look at 'Jedi' Jim Eastwood shall we? A few weeks back he ripped into youngest candidate Susan Ma, calling her "a mouse" and accusing her of only speaking up when it suited her. Quite rightly, he was told to shut up in no uncertain terms by Lord Sugar and Susan was given a chance to speak. Jim has also garnered to perfection a technique I like to call "The Symbiote" - he sticks to another male candidate, coaxes them into doing what is beneficial to him and then drops all confederacy in the boardroom.

Melody isn't doing exactly what Jim did to the letter: she's not a bully, though she did nearly go into spiteful hysterics in the boardroom. She doesn't form alliances; in fact quite the opposite, but you can still use the same words to describe them both: manipulative, self-serving, untruthful.

Why does Melody get away with it? As a viewer, she made me very angry; even angrier than Jim did when he shouted Susan down. Jim and Melody both have Lord Sugar's respect, but Jim is tarred with a black brush. Melody gets off scot-free in the boardroom (admittedly, according to many social networks she is not very popular). She doesn't need to redeem herself, a la The Brand. She is a "tiger", not a "liar".

And now the big question: is it because she is a woman?


Please let me know what your comments are on this - I will be using them in a follow-up post to this one.

Best F R I E N D S: Phoebe Buffay

"I'm like, playing the field. You know; juggling two guys, sowing my wild oats. I'm like this oat-sowing, field-playing juggler."

Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock - er, sorry, Phoebe Buffay is next. Are you the kooky one of your friends?


- Phoebe grew up on the city streets, therefore she is bereft of a 'normal' childhood. She misses out on aspects of growing up and she deals with a lot of adult issues before she is  fully grown.

By the end of the series, we learn that Phoebe's life has been far from usual. She lost her mother and father at a young age, and had a tough upbringing on the streets. You might not have had such a mad upbringing but whatever it was that disrupted your childhood, it has left you known as the underpriviledged or 'naive one'. You are pretty straight-forward and take things a face value but this does not make you dumb: you possess 'street smarts' that your peers and friends may not. You don't let your past get caught up with your future
, but sometimes you remind others of your misfortune to get your own way. Be careful, as over time your friends will indulge you less!

- Because Phoebe is used to being 'different' (and somewhat enjoys it), she doesn't believe she will ever be happily married. She is also the most promiscuous of the girls, and has a lot of casual sex.

Whether or not your reluctance to conform is coupled with an unusual family life or not, like Phoebe you may not view marriage or relationships in the same way as your friends. Eventually Phoebe does realise marriage and kids are her kind of thing, but only once she finds the right man. Maybe you won't come to the same conclusion that Phoebe does (it IS a sitcom after all!)

- Phoebe does non-conformational things out of nobility and generosity: such as marrying her gay friend to give him a chance at his dreams and being a surrogate for her brother and his wife.

Although Phoebe didn't have a chance at a 'normal' beginning in life, the choices she has made into adulthood have been non-conventional. She seems to enjoy her lifestyle choices; being a vegetarian, working as a masseuse, not having a college education like her friends. Despite shaky beginnings, she is by no means lesser to her peers, and she is able to match wits with all of them. If you're like Phoebe, maybe you'll do things that are different just to try out a change in lifestyle. Even if you think you're doing the right thing, you will appreciate your friends and not preach to them.


Phoebe's Best Moment: [SEASON 4 EP. 11 "The One with Phoebe's Uterus"]
Frank and Alice, Phoebe's half-brother and his wife, are trying to have a baby and need a surrogate. Step in, Phoebe. As she considers the idea, her birth mother, who herself gave Phoebe up for adoption, gives her a puppy to take care of for a few days to allow Phoebe to experience what it is like to give away something she falls in love with. Eventually the time comes to give the puppy back and Phoebe is upset. Frank and Alice come in and she lets them hold the puppy: they are overjoyed, so she allows them to keep it. Upon seeing how happy her gift makes them, she realises that she is able to become their surrogate. (What a shame that the puppy belonged to Phoebe's mother!)

Best F R I E N D S: Joey Tribbiani

"...I'm a Tribbiani, and that's what we do! We may not be great thinkers or world leaders...but damn it, we can EAT!"

Ever met the guy in the bar who swaggers up to ask you "How you doin'?" Go on, admit it. You are actually that guy in the bar aren't you? Congrats if you are; you're a Joey.

- Joey is more famous for his womanising ways than he is for his acting. He seems to think nothing of cheating, and has many tricks up his sleeves to entice women into sleeping with him.

If you're like Joey, you enjoy female company and unlike your friends you have never had a problem on the social scene. While many women fall for you, you can be guilty of upsetting a few in the long run simply by not being specific about what you expect from your romantic liaisons. Joey eventually learns to let his conquests know what to expect, therefore holding up his end of the bargain.


- Joey comes from a predominantly female family. As a result, he is very protective towards the women he is close to.

You may not go as far as proposing to your pregnant single friend (which Joey manages to do twice); but whether she's a friend, sister or cousin, you'll be looking out for her. Joey reacts immediately with anger when his best friend fools around with his sister, and like him you can sometimes be a little quick to jump to conclusions.  However you'll get plenty of recognition and appreciation for being such a gent.

- Joey isn't known for his smarts, relying more on his ability to chat up women than his intellect.

Like their Italian-American counterpart, 'Joey's have a focused strength in a certain area. Joey Tribbiani's area happens to be pulling power. As a Joey, you may not be as slow-witted as he is, but you may be lacking in a certain area, such as common sense or sensitivity. However, you are a useful person to know for your talents: friends come to you for advice, and your reputation precedes you (be careful where your talents lie - this can be a negative thing!)


Joey's Best Moment: [SEASON 4 EP. 16 "The One With The Fake Party"]
Pregnant vegetarian Phoebe is expecting triplets and craving meat in a big way. However, she is incredibly moralistic and the thought of animals suffering just for her craving upsets her. Enter Joey, otherwise known as the carnivore. Despite his love of all things smoked, cured, breadcrumbed or stuffed into a submarine sandwich, he agrees to give up eating meat for the duration of Phoebe's pregnancy, to stop any 'extra' animals being killed. In another episode, he also gave the lucky blonde a smacker on the lips after she claimed to have never had "the perfect kiss".

Best F R I E N D S: Rachel Green

"I cannot believe I have to walk down the aisle in front of 200 people looking like something you drink when you're nauseous."

Rachel: girls wanted to be her, to the extent that women were taking pictures of her to the salons and demanding a 'Rachel'. But what are 'Rachels' really like?


- When we first meet Rachel, she has just walked out of her wedding after realising that she wanted her wedding gifts more than she wanted her husband.

Rachel comes from a rich family: her mother was a wealthy socialite who married her surgeon father and it seems Rachel is expected to do the same with her orthodontist fiance Barry. The fact that she gives up a financially 'safe' yet loveless marriage to pursue a worthwhile relationship and an independent life conveys her maturity above other girls of her upbringing; such as her spoilt sisters, Jill and Amy. Girls like Rachel may have had a privileged start in life either financially or otherwise, but they yearn for something more and often 'fly the nest'.

- Rachel is the most image-conscious Friend, and as a result of her mild vanity she undervalues domesticity and knows little about it. She is also a little arrogant, getting surprised when men fail to show interest in her.

Few women could make a trifle with beef without realising that something is wrong. Whether you started preening at a young age or maybe you simply preferred Textiles to Home Ec. in school, like Rachel you are at a slight disadvantage when it comes to home-making. Having said that you lack some qualities that can scare men off in the early stages, such as a more relaxed approach to housework and chores or initially low interest in starting a family. This may however need addressing when you get to a certain point in a relationship. There's no crime in wanting to look good and embrace popularity like Rachel, but like her you will learn to draw the line between taking care of yourself and becoming too self-absorbed.

- Rachel is often vague and a bit self-righteous in relationships. She fails to specify the terms of a 'break' early in her relationship with Ross, leading to the repeated refrain: "WE WERE ON A BREAK!!"

Despite the best efforts of the other friends, Rachel goes to a lot of time and trouble trying to tell Ross how she feels in an attempt to stop him marrying Emily. She isn't swayed by the fact that she has missed her chance; how she might not achieve anything except hurt and confusion, or the depth of Ross's feelings for Emily. As a Rachel, you can sometimes struggle to empathise with others and see things from their point of view. You can be a little stubborn, often not satisfied until you have got your point across. Sometimes you can resort to dirty tricks, like Rachel convincing one of Ross's girlfriend to shave her head so he would find her less attractive. On the other hand, Rachel has a lot of assertiveness which takes her from a poorly-paid waitressing job to a high-power career in fashion. And let's not forget, Rachel patiently pursues a relationship with Ross until they reconcile in time for a happy ending, just as the audience hoped. Aaaaw.

Rachel's Best Moment: [SEASON 10 FINALE "The Last One"]
"I got off the plane." Enough said.

Best F R I E N D S: Chandler Bing

"Good, because I was worried you guys were gonna be vague about this."

Chandler: famous for his humour, ridiculous 80s clothing and being a 'transponster', whatever one of those is. Let's have a look at the traits that make up the 'Chandler' type.


- After his parents' divorce, Chandler's father moved to Las Vegas to open up a drag act. Chandler was frequntly involved in the act or aspects of it such as grooming or choreography.

Having grown up in unusual circumstances, you're not brilliant at predicting the course your relationship will go through. This doesn't necessarily mean you had a broken home or a single parent family: you could have had a normal upbringing followed by an utterly disastrous dating history (anyone remember Janice?). When Monica and Chandler had their first argument, Chandler immediately assumed it was over because he couldn't think past such a row. He didn't realise that he was in a 'grown-up' relationship with a partner who was willing to talk through any difficulties.

- Because of his unusual upbringing, Chandler can be seen as effeminate; and the character's sexual orientation had to be deliberately established.

This doesn't mean Chandler types are girly and/or gay. What this means is that you can have traits that are commonly seen as 'feminine'. For example you may be overtly sensitive, or you may know how to enthuse with women. And this is great! It means you're honest about the way you feel - any woman who is with you won't have to ask you "are you sure you're OK?" twenty times before you admit to being angry; and you can talk to women about things they enjoy with tolerance and interest even if you don't understand what they're talking about. What it does mean is that you may get teased, especially (and ironically) by other 'Chandlers'.

- Chandler uses humour as a defense mechanism which often makes him seem insincere and cold, and can get him into a lot of trouble. 

Chandler has trouble getting himself taken seriously at work because his colleagues take everything he says as a joke, and he ends up seeming immature at a job interview because of a light-hearted comment about "duties/doodies". He winds up a lot of his friends, specifically females (Rachel at one point comments that she would like to punch him, but she "doesn't know why") because it can be viewed as reluctance to answer questions or admit to feelings. This isn't what Chandler is really trying to convey - he simply likes being 'the funny guy' because humour is popular, widely appreciated and an effective way of shielding himself from the awkwardness of reality. This conveys a timid nature - you don't want to lift the shield and expose the tender flesh beneath, but you will when in the right company. You just need to watch out - not all awkward moments appreciate a humourous comment and your words can come out the wrong way.

Chandler's Best Moment: [SEASON 10 EP. 9 - "The One With The Birth Mother"]
After following their trial to become parents, Chandler and Monica register at an adoption agency. However the agency mix up the files, and the couple have to admit to their potential birth mother Erica that they are not who she thought they were. Upset, she says she wants nothing more to do with them and storms out. Monica despairs, and Chandler goes after Erica, catching her in the lobby. He then tells her that although they may not be doctors or priests, they will love her baby more than anyone else could. Despite the fact that it was Monica who went along with the facade, Chandler expresses his sadness at not being able to give her the thing she wants most: a child. Erica warms to his sincerity and agrees to let the couple adopt her baby (or babies, as it turns out).