C'est la vie"If it's not fun, why do it?"
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Name: Jade Phoenix
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Member Since: 11/25/2002

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Friday, June 26, 2009

It's time for a change...

“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.”

- Charles Darwin

It's time for a change.

Goodbye old me, hello new me.


Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Lighten up! Laugh a little!

There are a number of free publications in circulation in London. Your morning commute is often accompanied by the Metro, while your evening commute offers the choice between the London Lite and TheLondonPaper. Now my personal favorite has got to be TheLondonPaper. I was disappointed to see the following complaint nestling between it's ink-tastic pages last night, however, entitled Taking the Fun out of flashmobs. (Read it here: http://www.thelondonpaper.com/cs/Satellite/london/talk/article/1157159305199?packedargs=aid%3D1157159305199%26suffix%3DArticleController )

This referred to a little incident at London Liverpool Street a few weeks ago, the result of which you can see here:

http://uk.youtube.com/lifesforsharing

Now I'm sorry, but I don't get it. I am a member of Gen Y. I love fun. This looks like fun. This whole thing reminds me of Stephen Fry's comment on Jonathan Ross the other night, where he illustrated how culture can give meaning to a few simple phrase. 'Only in America', he said, summed up the wonder and the awe at the creative spirit, found, in this case, in America (shorthand for USA in this case). He made an interesting point: what does 'Only in Britain' sum up? The perpetual rain? The miraculous appearance of queues in the middle of nowhere? Is it the response to the usual (insert British accent) 'Oh no, no! We couldn't possibly do that'. Stephen Fry, I love you, you are a genius.

So, London Columnist - lighten up!! To assist you in doing so, I've attached my favorite online read of the week, a hilarious letter of complaint to Richard Branson:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/travelnews/4344890/Virgin-the-worlds-best-passenger-complaint-letter.html

Happy reading and laughing!

PS - and yes, I get the irony of complaining about a complaint... and then posting a complaint. That's part of the fun, right? ;-P


Sunday, January 18, 2009

He's just not that into you...

... what does it mean when things happen in life and the first reference flashing through your brain is a Sex And The City (SATC) episode?

I was just signing off on yahoo and you know how the logout button takes you to a general news page? well, a news story about Drew Barrymore caught my eye and I clicked on it, and the first line started something like this: 'He's just not that into you' star Drew Barrymore....

Quite frankly, I don't even remember the rest. The first thing I thought was - that line sounds familiar. Now, my friends aren't the type that would tell me such things - they're more like the type who go 'he's probably lost his phone', 'he's probably gone abroad on a business trip', 'maybe he lost your number' .. I'm the most likely one to say 'he's just not that into you' and knowing their sensibilities, I'm probably likely to tone it down too... then it hit me - SATC!!!

Excited, I youtubed it and found this:

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=0IeXqvFR6HI

Love it! Going to see it! Thank god for those wonderful, talented ex SATC writers!! I love you all!!!

 


Friday, August 29, 2008

Faking it

It's been all over the news that parts of the opening ceremony in Beijing were faked. Then it emerges some of the opening sequence in Sydney were faked as well. Which got me thinking... don't we all fake it sometimes. And is it so wrong? When the illusion is more desirable than the truth - is it wrong to fake it?

Haven't you ever received a present you don't like? The giver of the gift does not want to hear the truth, do they? They don't want to know that they completely misjudged you, their friend (presumably), and your taste. They don't want to know that they hardly know you, that you hate that crappy pair of socks which aren't your style, think their book is useless as you have no interest in calligraphy, and that you'll never, in a million years, use that juicer because it's so much easier to just go to the shop and buy a carton of fresh orange juice. No - they want to hear how useful, beautiful, (insert random complimentary adjective) their gift is and that they're a wonderful, amazing friend for recognising this gap in your life (and your wardrobe). The truth would only hurt them. So you fake it. I'm sure everyone has - and those that don't probably no longer receive gifts or have no friends.

More recently, I've been thinking about faking it at the workplace. Reason: I had (yet another) conversations with one of my managers about my frustrations with my work. And in the end, she pointed out that the perfect job doesn't exist, and it's all about what I'm willing to compromise. I pointed out that even if it did, I'd probably desperately seek a way of improving it (I blame my parents for that!), laughed and left. But she had me thinking - what was I willing to compromise? And once you started compromising, where do you stop? Is it not just a slippery slope of faking? I disagree with the censorship we experience, for example - that is something I cannot fake. But I can withdraw from the conversations we are having. Is that still faking it? By not speaking up about the things that are going wrong, examples of poor performance, we may not actively be faking, but are we not passively contributing to the illusion? Where's the line?

And then there's your harshest critic - yourself. Do we never fake things for ourselves? Of course I can stop smoking whenever I want to - it's easy. It's ok to have the pint of Ben & Jerry's - I deserve it after all my hard work; plus, I'll go to the gym at the weekend and work it off. I'm not mentally ill, I'm introspective, that's all, and prone to extensive bouts of self-analysis, it will blow over. I'm just misunderstood, I'm actually great at my job and hold all the answers, but no one ever listens. He's not called because he's busy, he's lost my number or worse, he's been mugged and his phone was stolen. It's them, not me.

I went to see a Derren Brown show a few months ago. [For those who don't know Derren Brown - he's an illusionist/mentalist who openly admits he's faking it - but his shows are mind-blowing anyway!]. As I sat up there, looking down on him, I was amazed - here was a man who openly faked it, pointed out that he was faking it, and still, I still believed him and his illusions, I still bought into his magic. Because when it comes down to it, doesn't everyone need a little magic in their lives? What's real anyway - I'm sitting there watching him do his (self admitted) trickery - it's my reality. And yet, it's not his - his reality is completely different. Does it matter? Were those not the most entertaining two and a half hours of my life? Is there 'a truth', or only different perspectives? And if it's only different points of view, when and why does it matter that you're faking it?

Perhaps we all need to fake it a little. To get on with others, to get on with ourselves. Perhaps pretending that there is an absolute reality, an absolute truth is the ultimate fake. And so, by pretending that it's the others who don't see 'the truth', it makes it easier to live with ourselves, our choices and our opinions. By faking a truth, we validate ourselves. So what's wrong, I ask you, with faking it?


Sunday, August 24, 2008

Sad

What makes me sad is not that she doesn't understand me, nor that she misjudged me. She cannot possibly know the grief I hold in my heart and the tears that flow from my eyes.

What saddens me is that he did not stand up for me, didn't tell her to f*** off and didn't come into the room to check I was ok. And that he's still not done so, instead choosing to sit next door on his computer.

This world sucks. It's a lonely place. I'm going to be very happy when she finally f***s off. Bitch. Praying every Sunday and collecting books does not mean shit when you treat your neighbors the way you treat yours. Good luck to you - hope I never see you again.



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