PDA: Public Displays of Annoyance

Picture the scene:  I'm in the library, surrounded by sheets of my own scribbles.  Time is tight; I have 24 hours and an essay plan.  Nine hours, three Diet Pepsi's and two caramel shortbreads later, I'm still here.  The caffeine and the ever-nearing deadline are the only factors keeping my brain from shutting down.  Enter: a couple holding hands, smiling smugly at each other and sitting down RIGHT in front of me.  It's not long before hand-holding turns into hair-stroking which rapidly turns into full-on affection.

After that, I wasn't sure which was more frustrating: my inability to find the words to finish the essay or the repulsive kissing noises coming from the other side of the table.  As an English student, I feel it is a dreadful sin to throw a book.  But I was seriously considering making an exception.  Flapping my papers around in an agitated manner appeared to have no effect whatsoever as they stared intensely into each other's eyes.  It was honestly the worst form of PDA I'd ever seen.

Eurgh, Public Displays of Affection. Whether you have an opinion about it or not, it is highly likely that you have witnessed the kind of couple I am referring to.  The couple that wear matching t-shirts and insist on walking down the street with their arms wrapped around each other in the most uncomfortable-looking position.  It couldn't be more obvious if they stamped labels on their foreheads saying 'his' and 'hers.'  What further grates me about these types of situations is that showing signs of irritation somehow implies you are a man-hater, feminist or just plain jealous.  This is entirely untrue.  I just find it embarrassing, gross and inconsiderate.  They may be the love of your life but does it mean I have to witness you slobbering all over them? No. So please, for the sake of your unfortunate audience, get a room.

Just the way you are?

From teeth whitening to Heidi Montague's ten surgical operations in 24 hours, it seems the world has gone slightly mad with the idea of 'perfection'.  Don't wear glasses, get laser eye surgery.  Cellulite is unacceptable, pay for liposuction.  Now there is nothing wrong with making an effort.  I am not promoting that we throw away our make-up and refuse to wash our hair.  But surely there comes a point where you face the mirror and accept the fact that this is what you were given.  And however much you love or hate it, changing it can't be right, can it?

Of course, the default solution would be to say 'love what you have' which would perhaps be a little easier if you looked like Nicole Scherzinger.  The irony of airbrushed, fully groomed celebrities like Christina Aguilera telling us 'we are beautiful no matter what they say' is almost laughable.  Even Bruno Mars declaring that 'you're amazing just the way you are' doesn't quite ring true when the girl in his music video has probably spent at least five hours in the hair and make-up department.  Taking these messages at face value, it seems society today has their priorities right.  But the rise in popularity of cosmetic surgery and the persistence of the media in pointing the finger at women who are a 'fat' size 12 indicates a different opinion.

Realistically, what are we supposed to think?  Even celebrities such as Vanessa Feltz, Anne Diamond and Michelle McManus who shot to fame in spite of their weight have since released fitness videos showing us that they shifted the pounds, and we can too.  Of course I'm not advocating obesity.  I'm simply saying that there seems to be a decreasing amount of space for individuals in society.  And this is evident in every aspect of our lives.  Fast fashion has never been so popular with people desperate to keep up with what everyone else is wearing.  Music genres seem to be less distinguishable, as the likes of Ne-yo, The Killers and Blink 182 are dumped together with Westlife, Justin Bieber and The Saturdays to fit into this popular 'culture'.  And the only mobile phones that are socially acceptable are the iPhone or the Blackberry.

So where are we headed?  In 50 years time, perhaps we'll just be obedient minions dressed in identical clothing, listening to the same music with no opinions of our own.  OK, so I exaggerate.  But surely you understand my point.  We are supposed to live in a democracy.  What is the point in having freedom of speech if we follow the crowd?  I'm not promoting that we make ourselves mysterious, dye our hair purple and have outrageous opinions.  Just dare to be different. Resist the Botox and the Blackberry.  Be yourself.  And who knows what an impact you could make?  

What's cooking?

The ability to cook is completely underestimated in my opinion. Yes, we can all survive on beans on toast. But who wouldn't want to know how to whip up a good chicken stir fry? Or lamb curry? Or risotto? Cooking for myself this year has forced me to come to terms with the fact that I'm lacking that certain va va voom in the kitchen.

In all honesty, sometimes I simply can't be bothered to slave over the cooker when the microwave can do all the work. Why not take advantage when these 21st century advancements are at your fingertips?  Uncle Ben's rice has been the ultimate saviour.  An epic two minutes and boom: white, fluffy, hot. Just like my Grandma's (though it would kill her to know this).  A bit of Patak's sauce on some defrosted meat, and there you have it.  A curry.  I guess I have a cheek to call this 'cooking.'  Jamie Oliver should probably launch his next healthy eating campaign on students.  Let's see how many meals he can conjure up from beans, tuna and bread.  Now THAT would be a challenge.  Not this getting-school-kids-to-eat-salad malarky.

Truth is, with no time (or more realistically no motivation) and a financial budget, the meals you can cook seem pretty limited.  The clichѐ of beans and toast being the standard student meal has not become a clichѐ for no reason.  I did reach a point where I began to crave beans I ate them that often.  That was slightly worrying.

But when I actually can be bothered things don't seem to work out either.  Grilling sausages turned into a mini-fire.  Turning on the wrong hob meant raw food and burning myself on the handle.  And this is just managing appliances.  It seems I'm currently useless.  If it's true what they say about the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I will become a bitter singleton.

But I refuse to surrender to the take-away.  I may never be the next Gordon Ramsey, but I WILL learn how to put together a proper meal.  Eventually.  After all, how hard can it be?  Watch this space.

Romance isn't dead

White Lillies, a teddy and a handwritten note left on the pillow.  It couldn't have been more perfect if he wanted.  It was my friend and her boyfriend's one month anniversary, and I stood watching him fussing over the positioning of the flowers he'd bought to surprise her.  I was there to help though only really managed to stand staring at him with a pathetic 'awwwwwww.'  He didn't seem impressed. I then heard myself telling him 'you've restored my faith in men!'  The response was an awkward silence, and immediate regret on my part for blurting out something so embarrassing.  But it was true.  My naivety was long gone, along with the idea that men like Richard Gere did exist and would appear at your door with a rose between their teeth.  I'd told myself I was delusional.  But here was a guy so smitten, that he'd actually put some serious thought into what type of flowers she liked, and where they would look best in her room.  It really was like something from a Hollywood blockbuster.  But better.

It made me realise how cynical I actually am.  If they replied to a text or bought you a drink, I thought this was promising.  Flowers were old school.  It was the old age where men picked up their date in a tuxedo for dinner at eight.  (Or maybe I've seen too many romantic comedies...) These days, it seems taking the bus to the Pizza Hut buffet is as good as it gets.  Don't be mistaken, it's not about the money.  It's about the thought.  The fact that he actually cared enough to think about where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do.  It was refreshing, and quite frankly made my day, let alone his girlfriend's.

Relationships sometimes seem unmanageable in the 21st Century.  I wouldn't be surprised if there was a correlation between the date the Xbox was invented and when men started to care less.  But it's moments like these, albeit rare, that our hope is renewed and our expectations rise again.