Girl. 30. Living this thing called life.

Just me. Being me.

NYC Midnight – Short Story Challenge – Round One March 17, 2016

Filed under: My Fiction — emzee1983 @ 7:57 am
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Her Story

Don’t judge me. I promise that there is nothing wrong with me. I don’t have any dodgy ex-boyfriends, or too many cats. I don’t snore, and I am not actually that fussy when it comes to men… it’s just that for whatever reason I am unable to meet men in normal acceptable social situations. I met my last long-term boyfriend whilst I was walking my neighbour’s dog. I’ll be honest; I’m not that great with animals, especially other peoples, and on this particular day, I was not dressed to meet a man, I wouldn’t even say I was dressed. Well, I had clothes on but… Oh let me start at the beginning. (more…)


Girl. 30. Sending mixed messages. June 30, 2013

Filed under: My Views — emzee1983 @ 11:56 am
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I love my family.  With all of my heart.  They can make me laugh and cry like no other person can.

I have two sisters, one big, one little. Today, I need to tell you about the big one, and my mum.

My big sister is amazing.  She has two degrees, is married with two beautiful children but, she is a little out of touch with the internet, social media etc.  This is not a bad thing.  It’s quite refreshing actually, although I have often had to spend evenings with her trying to explain the concept of a Retweet…

Anyway, she does manage to text us, and often signs off her texts with ‘lol’.  

To us savvy texters we all know that that means Laugh out Loud.

To my big sister this still means Lots of Love.

Which is fine for us all who are close to her as we know what she means.  And we all avoided sending it back to her to avoid confusion.

Or so I thought..

Recently she was in a seminar as part of her work, and the 50+ year old David Brent wannabe (her words) started the seminar by saying this..

“We all know how quickly text language changes, how children change the meaning of words so that their parents don’t know what they are talking about..”

At this point big sister was nodding along knowingly with the fellow parents in the room.  Until…

“Take for example, the use of LOL.  It used to be Lots of Love…”

This is where she stopped mid nod and kept her smile frozen in place while her eyes opened all crazy like.

“But now, of course, we all know it is Laugh out Loud”

This was how she was informed of this. A 50+ year old man was informing her. She was mortified. And has since started signing her texts with the actual words: Lots of Love.

She is ok now though, she is getting over it. Until she told me this story and I told her that even our mum knows how to use LOL correctly.

For example, this is a text from my mum to me:

That’s cool! It will happen in the near future is all I know lol. Will
call them on Friday if no news. Xxx

This worried big sister a little, as she wondered if mum had been texting lol to her as Laugh out Loud and not Lots of Love as she thought.

After reading a few examples, we decided that mum was using it as Lots of Love for big sister, and Laugh out Loud for the rest of the world. (Which actually makes my mum some kind of genius, remembering to do this).

Until we came across this text.

(To put into context, my mum has the whole family over to hers for Christmas on Boxing day and this was sent to my mum once big sister had spent the day with her and was making her way home)

Big Sister:

Thanks ever so much for having us all over, was such a lovely day.
Love you xx x


Was a pleasure, can’t wait to do it again next year, lol x

An evil genius maybe, scoring silent chuckles without us even realising.

Hats off to you mum.



Filed under: My Views — emzee1983 @ 5:24 pm
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I am fully aware that this topic has been dissected, torn apart, eaten up, regurgitated and talked about all over again… BUT… I need to have my say.  So bear with me.

On my way in to work, I listen to my I-phone as I apparently no longer fall into the Radio 1 listeners age group and am regularly made to feel old.  At 30.  But that is another blog for another time.  This morning, I had my phone on shuffle, and enjoying the random mix of Tracy Chapman blurred into Skrillex when on came Another Level.  

I don’t know if you remember Another Level, their main hit being ‘Freak Me’..

But it was their classic slow song, ‘Guess I was a Fool’ that came on this morning…

“I guess I was a fool.. For thinking that you needed me too.. Should have knew..”


This is coming from an R&B boyband that had many top ten hits and were on movie soundtracks for Notting Hill and Ali G.  No wonder I talk like I do growing up with that in my ear.

They are not the worst offenders though.  And, yet again, I apologise if this is old news, I just need to get it off my chest.  

THE WAY I ARE.  Yeah you know it, that Timbaland song..

“Can you handle me the way I’m are?”

Seriously?  Somebody needs to learn that boy some English.  (I can get away with that ‘cos I’m a Norfolk gal)

And whilst I’m talking about being from this here Norfolk, this song title springs to mind:

“I can’t get no satisfaction”  Being from Norfolk this is often true, but the main reason I have included this one is because I wanted to write it like this;

I can’t get noo… (boom boom boom) sat. is. faction..”  A Double negative Mr Jagger?  Good going you great role models you.  

We could also criticise “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…”  But we won’t as it is a brilliant song.  Although technically it means there will be sunshine.  Negating the purpose of the whole lyric.

If I wrote a piece full of grammatical errors and misused words, used words that were stretched to fit where they probably shouldn’t, I’d either be called a Norfolk Genius, or no one would read my work.  I’m guessing the latter would be more likely.  So why do we listen to these lyrics?  And enjoy them? Do we forgive them their intellectual ignorance because they make us tap our feet?

Who knows. 

All I do know is next time I write something that is not that well written, I shall just come over to yours as you read it and play a nice tune whilst distracting you with interpretive dance.  




Girl. 30. Attempting to eat like a grown up. June 25, 2013

Filed under: My Views — emzee1983 @ 7:23 pm
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I was sitting on my sofa on Sunday morning, eating a bowl of cereal.

I don’t know about you, but for some reason, whenever I eat cereal, I end up with milk dribbling down my chin and making itself at home on whatever I am wearing. I turn into a slobbering mess. I use the sleeve of my gown to wipe away the milk and am shocked at the amount of milk that has missed my mouth.

And it’s not only the obvious visual mess, it’s the noises I make. The snuffling, piggy noises whilst slurping my milk. This is why I do not eat my cereal in public. When in public I stick to toast. Toast is a safe food. Until you take a bite and end up with the whole slice hanging out of your mouth and just a tiny corner piece between your fingers. That is the only time that toast lets me down. I just need to remember to stick to the safe toppings, like jam. Not Chocolate spread, that ends up all over my face, clothes, friends…

Honestly, it’s like I need to retake some kind of eating etiquette. My other half (R) has some bad habits.. (the above are not my habits, they are things that are entirely beyond my control).. One of the worst is LICKING HIS KNIFE. Ugh. I cannot stand it. I almost wish it would cut him a little to teach him a lesson.. Just a little. No permanent scarring..

He also LICKS HIS PLATE. The amount of times I have had to guide his hand, holding his plate, back to the table when we are out, giving him the look, the ‘not in public’ look. The look he gives me, the lost boy look, the look your puppy gives you when he knows he has done wrong, does not work when we are at a wedding.
Okay, but the worst. The worst habit he has with eating. Is when he LICKS MY PLATE. What the ? Not only has he finished his meal, licked his knife and fork clean, but he has to do the same for me too. He says it saves on the washing up. I tell him we have a dishwasher. He gives me the puppy look.

He has learnt to lick all plates and cutlery away from my eyes and hides in the kitchen like some secret addict.

I suppose we all have our habits when it comes to food.

For example, I like to cook the crap out of everything to avoid any potential food poisoning. (That’s what I tell people, the truth is I have no concept of timings when I cook. Even with a timer I get confused. So I go by what things look like) Which is fine when it is just me and R, but when friends/family come over, they have to endure soggy non existent vegetables, with hard overcooked meat and crispy shells of potatoes.

Sorry guys.


Girl. 30. Addicted to the little Blue Bird. June 16, 2013

Filed under: My Views — emzee1983 @ 12:30 pm
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I have a confession to make.

I am addicted to Twitter.

To the one-liners.

To the satisfaction I feel when posting something slightly humorous.

To the claims to fame when an author (singer/actor/socialite/insert preferred person here) takes a few seconds out of their much more important than mine lives to respond.

I am actually addicted to the micro second buzz I receive from the above.

Even if it is just a retweet.

When someone pushes that little button, my life is changed for the better.

It honestly makes me feel noticed, for that short second, somebody I do not know, knew me.

They knew my name, and felt whatever it was I had to say (highly amusing no doubt) had to be shared with their few thousand followers.

I like the importance. I like holding up the tip of my nose and snubbing the rest of the Twitter world, safe in the knowledge that for a few seconds, my idol recognised me.

The downside to this (there is always a downside, you can’t have something that makes you feel this good and not have a downside) is that 99% of the time, my witty comments, my highly intelligent and fascinating thoughts are IGNORED.


This, I find, is doubly humiliating.

Not only has my idol Twitterer ignored me, by not taking that microsecond from their highly important and busy lives to push one button and recognise my talent, but EVERYONE THAT FOLLOWS ME KNOWS ABOUT IT.

They have front row to the public humiliation that has just taken place.


I understand. I really do. They have lives to live, and cannot respond to everyone. Even if the tweet I wrote was something I spent a good couple of days mulling over.

It’s not just that that I am addicted to.

I am fascinated by the things people write about. The things people feel they need to share…

I’ve just looked at my own timeline for a few examples..

I know right? Exciting stuff.

You are all wondering how I cope dealing with such high drama in my life. Especially when you read this one;

And before you start getting the wrong impression.. I really am that person..

I have many bizzare fantasies about certain people becoming my new BFF as they tell everyone EVERYTHING about their lives, I feel like I know them inside out.

I’ll be reading their tweets, and they tell me something about themselves, something normal, and I’ll be like, ooh I do that.. So I attempt to join in, Tweet them my example, show them how similar we are, but, well, you’ve all read what usually happens.

Until next time, happy tweeting.

I look forward to reading about the double yolker you ate at breakfast.

And seeing the photo to prove it.


Girl. 30. Remixing Rapunzel. May 28, 2013

Filed under: My Fiction — emzee1983 @ 6:13 pm
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CASE NUMBER 01-04030201

APRIL 19, 2013

Gadget:  The date is April 19th, time is…. 18hundred hours.  I am Inspector Gadget, and I will be interviewing Jason Prince today, at Castle Police Station.  Also present is DC Woody who took the initial call out.  Jason, can you confirm your full name and date of birth.  

Prince:  *coughs* Uhem. Hiiyaa, My name is Jason Prince, I’m 22 years old and I’m from Knightsbridge.

Gadget:  This isn’t a dating show Jason.  In your own time, can you tell me what happened at lunch time today.

Prince: I thought I’d try the pub for lunch, the new one ya know?  Up on.. er.. Used to be called the Moat.. Anyways, I’m a vegeterian but all the chef could offer me were Linda McCartney’s frozen sausages or the veggies off of the carvery.  Weren’t happy so I

Gadget: Jason, please stick to the events after your lunch.  Specifically involving Tangled Hair and Beauty.

Prince: Sorry mate.  Sara called me, after my shitty lunch.  Shit sorry, I’m probably not meant to swear in these things am I?  

Gadget: Sara?

Prince: Sara Punzel.  She’s me bird.  Hot you know?  Not like Cheryl Cole hot.  Or that Lorraine bird off of the tele hot, but she has got legs up to her eyes and hair down to her peachy little

Gadget: Jason.  Please stick to what happened.

Prince: Yeah well, she’d gone to Tangled, had her hair extensions stuck back in or whatever they do, and she couldn’t pay.  I bought her a new wallet, sorry, purse, the uvver day, and bless her, she aint the brightest of the bulbs.  Fink she’d tried paying wiv her WISA card.  Ya know?  The free one ya get in the purse.  Din’t go down too well wiv the hairdresser

Gadget: Aaah, Miss… *shuffling of papers can be heard*   Witchy?  

Prince: Yeah well I fink she thought Sara was pulling a fast one.  She weren’t though, she’s just.. well… she suits being blond ya know?  

Gadget: What were Miss Witchy and Miss Punzel doing when you arrived Jason?

Prince: Um… well.. when I first got there you mean?

Gadget: Yes.  What was the situation when you first arrived.  What were Miss Witchy and Miss Punzel doing?

Prince: *barely audible* I dunno.

Gadget: You don’t know?  Why not?

Prince: Well… ya see.. the fing is.. I couldn’t see.  I went into the salon off of the high street and it had been all hot and sunny so I was wearing my new sunnies, ya know?  The ones what change when ya go from out to in?  Yeah well I think I got done over wiv mine cos it took a few minutes for the glasses to go clear and I couldn’t see jack shit.  I walked straight into the coat stand and Sara had to help me over to the desk where we waited til they went clear again.  So ya see, by the time I could see anything, there weren’t no fighting going on.  It looked like there was fighting but not when I was there.  

Gadget: So what happened then?

Prince: That Miss Witchy, she kept saying she wanted her hair extensions back off of Sara, and that if she can’t pay then she can’t keep them.  Sara’s hair was a right mess.  She weren’t looking pretty and I thought, thats fine by me keep ‘em.  Sara was trying to pay with this bloody WISA card, couldn’t understand what the problem was.  Bloody make up all over the show..  So I did the right thing din’t I?  I stepped up, I was a man.

Gadget: What did you do?

Prince: I showed Sara where her real VISA card was.  




Girl. 30. Talking. May 23, 2013

Filed under: My Fiction — emzee1983 @ 7:46 pm
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Her eyes flicker open.
“She’s waking up.” A woman shouts to someone she can’t see. “Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me.”
“I can hear you.” Isabella whispers. “I can hear you.”
“Oh thank God. Oh thank the Lord above and all his shiny shiny angels. Help is on its way, they are on their way. Just stay with us. Keep talking. Tell me your name. What is your name?”
“Isabella. My name is Isabella. What happened?” She tries to sit up, but feels pressure on her shoulders, keeping her down.
“Don’t try and move, Isabella, Mikey’s got hold of you, he won’t let you move, we can’t risk you doing yourself more damage. You stay there young lady.” Isabella watches the woman as she looks at her watch. She can see the worry in her eyes, but takes comfort in her stern voice.
“How you feeling?” A male voice now, she assumes it is the unseen Mikey. “How’s your head?”
“Mikey? What happened, Mikey?” Isabella asks. She tries to look up, take a look at the stranger keeping her still.
“Do as the lady says Bella. I’m no Doctor but I think you better stay as you are. It was a pretty nasty hit.”
“I was hit? What hit me?”
“Jeez, I was just starting my shift, I haven’t even clocked in yet. And look at the state of my trousers. Fresh on this morning. Now look at them. Covered in….”
“Blood? I’m bleeding?” Isabella lifts her arm up to her face, to find the source.
“What? No, well, a little, but not a lot. You’ve got a cut on your forehead but it’s mainly a lump. It’s gonna bruise up real nice.”
“Ok, thats enough now Mikey, thank you.” Isabella looks at the woman who is frowning at Mikey.
“Do I know you?” Isabella asks the woman. “What is your name?”
“I’m Clare. I’m pretty sure this is the first time we’ve met.”
“I recognise you. Are you sure we’ve not met before?” Isabella tilts her head, trying to get a better view.
“I’m sure. Is there anyone you want us to call?” Clare asks, brushing the loose strands of her hair that were sticking to her face aside. Her eyes were darting from Mikey to Isabella and back to her watch.
“We’ve spoken before. I remember. You were trying to get the same box of tea-bags as me. The ones with the 50% extra free in them. I remember. You weren’t happy cos I was quicker than you. I remember. Then I saw you here, in this aisle and you couldn’t get past..”
“Oh… of course, that was you? Huh, I was having a bad day…” Clare’s face reddens.
“Mikey, please, I feel fine, if you could just let me get up?” Isabella pushes herself up against Mikey’s strong hands, and, feeling a little give, pushes further. Mikey, who had been resting on his haunches, stumbles backwards. Isabella pulls herself up into a sitting position and surveys the mess surrounding her.
“Baked Beans? I was hit by tins of Baked Beans?”
“And Spaghetti.” Mikey contributes, signaling to the mess on his trousers.


Girl. 30. Taking on the Wolf April 26, 2013

Filed under: My Fiction — emzee1983 @ 6:50 am
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A remix of the traditional fairytale – Red Riding Hood

The floor looks comfy. Every inch of me is tingling with the idea of laying on it and shutting my eyes in the hope that this non stop world will stop spinning. It looks kinda… springy, like my bed at home. Even with the soggy lipstick covered fag butts sticking to the bottoms of peoples shoes. I raise my head. Slowly. A bit too slow. Quicker? Ugh. No no no no… I start peeling my tongue away from its new home in the desert. It moves around a little, trying to find an oasis in the dry. Its no good. I need a juice. Hmmm.. Juice. Or a milkshake, yeah a milkshake would be good. And maybe some Quavers. Fuck it. Nowhere will be open now, I should just go home. I turn my back on the rainbow of lights and the thud thud thud of music that is making my brain thud thud thud in response.
I look for my bike. I’m sure I left it here. Or was it over at Gretel’s house? Where the fuck is Gretel anyway? Making me come out, tempting me with a night out with the girls.
“Come on out Red,” she said, “you do not want to miss out on what my brother has got for us.”
What her brother had for us was freaking amazing. It was freaking amazing. I can’t remember what it was called but God it was good. The tiny tiny white pills with a little picture of Wiley Coyote on it. I kept telling Gret to look at Wiley Coyote, where the frick is Road runner? And she was like,
“Red. It is a Wolf. How many fuckin’ times do I have to show you. It is a picture of a Wolf.”
And I was like,
“No Gret. That is definitely Wiley Coyote.”
Oh how I laughed. My face feels funny. I force my hand up to my face. It feels like it has three heavy weight wrestlers pulling down on it. I look down, half expecting to see them there. Waving up at me, laughing at my weakness. I close my eyes and put all my energy into lifting my arm up to my face. I feel like I am smiling. Why the fuck am I smiling? Oh yeah… Wiley Coyote. Haha. I look up. I recognise this door. I look around. Yeah, I know it. The unforgiving lamp-posts have been replaced by whispering trees. Shedding their needles and their secrets to the ground. How the fuck did I get here? I must’ve been walking for hours. Mmmm. GG will have some Quavers. Or even some of those bloody lovely cookies she makes. I got a key here somewhere..

I hear noisy people. They are too loud. Too fucking loud. I can’t open my eyes. I wish I had taken my make up off last night….
“My name is GG, she calls me GG…”

“Red? Can you hear me Red?” A male voice now. Who the fuck did I go home with last night? The pine needles beneath me scritch and scratch until I am comfy again. Something is pulling me, it could be those wrestlers again, not wanting me to wake up. Not yet.

“Red? I’m a Doctor. Can you hear me?” A light is being flashed in front of my eyes. I pull my eyelids closed tighter and try and tell them all to piss off. My mouth isn’t working yet. It is too early. Grandma’s here why won’t she tell him to leave me alone? I start to drown again. Its peaceful when I am drowning. No one can disturb me.

“Red?” Oh for fucks sake.
“Its Doctor Woodcutt, your Grandma called me. GG called me, Red? Can you answer me Red? What have you taken? Red? What did you take last night?”

Nothing. Nothing.
I feel nothing. I took nothing.
The Road Runner races in front of my eyes.