non fiction

All posts in the non fiction category

When a virus hijacks your brain.

Published September 1, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

(In bed, ill with a high temperature)

Brain: Ooh isn’t it cold.

Me: No.

Brain: It is.

Me: It’s not cold, I’ve got a temperature.

Brain: It’s freezing.

Me: (touching head to confirm) No, I’m boiling.

Brain: What’s that noise?

Me: (listening carefully) I can’t hear anything?

Brain: Can’t you hear that? The sound of your bones knocking together as they shiver?

Me: Pack it in.

Brain: Why don’t you put some socks on, your feet are cold aren’t they?

Me: (sighs) Yes, my feet feel cold now that you mention it. (gets out of bed and puts socks on)

Brain: (sings Vanilla Ice’s ‘Ice Ice Baby’)

Me: (back in bed) What are you doing now? I need to sleep.

Brain: I’m singing cold songs. Because it’s cold.

Me: Please stop.

Brain: Why don’t you put a nighty on. It’s cold and you’re nude, that’s just silly.

Me: I’m not nude, I have socks on. (gets out of bed and puts nighty on, gets back into bed)

(One minute and thirty-nine seconds tick by)

Brain: (sings Ultravox’s Vienna)

Me: That’s not a cold song, why are you singing that?

Brain: Midge Ure looked chilly in the video, so it’s a cold song.

Me: Stop talking, and singing, I need to sleep.

Brain: It’s too cold to sleep. But if you put another layer on you’ll feel all snugly and fall asleep.

Me: Ok, I give in.

Brain: Good, if you get any colder you’ll need the toilet.

Bladder: Hello!

Me: Great. I suppose you want to be emptied?

Bladder: Yes. Isn’t it cold.

Me: Don’t you start. (Empties bladder, layers up, back into bed) Can I sleep now?

Bladder: (snoring)

Brain: Of course. Snuggle down. Right under the duvet for maximum warmth.

(waking six hours later in a pool of sweat)

Me: Oh sweet horse chestnuts! I’m roasting alive! (fumbles feebly to remove socks while fighting heat fatigue)

Brain: Ha! Got you!

Bladder: Hello!

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HOOP Boot Camp Summer 2017

Published July 10, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

When I signed up for a weekend HOOP (helping overcome obesity problems) boot camp six months ago, I really didn’t know what I was expecting. I certainly didn’t expect that I would meet the most wonderful people who would inspire me, encourage me, and enlighten me. But I did. And more.

I was anxious about meeting new people and spending a weekend with total strangers. I didn’t need to worry at all. I was so nervous arriving at the camp, but I met my first new friend Lucy who instantly made me feel relaxed. And with each person I met after that I felt more at ease. I was worried about sharing a room but I was paired up with Emma and felt we were a perfect match, we instantly gelled and suddenly sharing a room wasn’t a big deal at all. So much so we asked Yvonne to join us as we’d clicked over dinner Friday night. Each lovely lady on the boot camp with me was so nice, I started on Friday with strangers but left on Sunday with new friends.

The food was delicious. I was again anxious about this aspect of the weekend. Was I going to have enough food? Was I going to like the food? How would I cope without sugary sweet food? Again, unnecessary worrying. I can’t praise Brian Powlett highly enough. Fresh heathy food, cooked to perfection. Packed full of flavor and incredibly filling, I didn’t feel hungry once. I’m now following his Facebook page ‘Knife of Brian’ (should have known he’d be awesome with a Monty Python reference) and will be trying his recipes myself. Who knew I’d get excited by salads? Not me.

I also needn’t have worried about the activities. Saturday morning started with a walk. It was about a mile I think, some people did a bit of running, some people walked a just little of the way, and some people didn’t take part. It was all about what you felt comfortable with, no pressure. We were then split into two groups. One group worked out with tyres, one with resistance bands. Again, if you didn’t want to take part, or if you needed a breather, that was no big deal. After breakfast then we had the option to do canoeing. I was going to do it but after seeing Barbara and Helen fall in the river (they handled it with such good humour!) I got spooked and changed my mind (flash back to falling in a boating lake aged eight). I will have another go though next time, as everyone who did it seemed to have a great time. Myself, Yvonne and Sarah opted out so we got to play boules with Mark (more about him later). I wasn’t counting but I think I won 😉, and we all beat Mark.

We then had the option of mountain biking. Sitting on a saddle the size of a paperclip was uncomfortable and, unless I have a saddle the size of an arm chair, I won’t be doing it again. I’m calling the tiny saddles ‘magic saddles’ because they managed to turn my apple-catcher knickers into a thong. If you didn’t want an intimate wedgie you could have gone for a trike, or a wider seated tandem bike, but that was tougher to pedal and steer, kudos to Yvonne for steering the trike and Liane and Sarah getting up a hill on the tandemt, I had to get off and push my bike on that bit.

After lunch, it was activity time again. You had the option of harness work (climbing wall, tree tops walk, zip wire) or archery. I chose the harness work as I wanted to challenge myself, I’ve done archery several times before. Wearing full harness gear is most unflattering, and in some circles would be classed as fetish wear, but I’d rather be safe and look like a trussed up chicken than fashionable and deadly. I wasn’t good at the climbing wall, trying to get my size nine trainers on a pokey-out-bit (not sure of the technical term) the size of a broad bean was too hard for me. Others made it look easy and shimmied up to the top quickly like Tom Cruise in the opening to Mission Impossible II (Jane, Diane, Vicky, Sue B). Sue A showed what perseverance and having another go can do, as she didn’t manage to get very high the first time but had another go after and her determination and sparkly inner magic got her to the top.

Zip wire was next and, wowsers, what a challenge. I struggle to get up on rung three of a step ladder, so just climbing to the top of the zip wire tower was an achievement. Emma was first to volunteer, what a star, and she nailed it like a carpenter. One by one everyone overcame their fears and launched themselves over the edge. Most of the time I was up there I was saying to myself in my head that I couldn’t do it and I would just go back down. But when it came to just me and Yvonne stood up there, things changed. I’m sure she won’t mind me saying she was having a wobble, and after standing on the edge changed her mind and got unhooked. I was giving her a pep talk and saying she could do this and she would feel fab if she did it, and as I was saying this I was thinking ‘well I can’t be saying this to Yvonne and not do it myself’ what a hypocrite!

So, I bit the bullet and told Alex (the activities man) I was going for it. I told him I wouldn’t be able to look down so I was going to look up into the trees and he would have to guide me to the edge like I was a blind person, which he did marvelously. He has the patience of a saint. I told him I don’t normally swear but I may do. But I didn’t swear, apart from a ‘Holy Moly’ as I jumped, and I didn’t cry which I thought I would. I bizarrely did a little high pitched nervous singing and screamed the entire way down, which resulted in a sore throat and revocation of my forty-year vegetarian status due to consuming a buffet of small insects mid-air.

I’d like to thank Sue and Jane for helping me down from the harness after I eventually come to a stop – I thought I was going up for another go at one point as the bounce back was quite far. There might have been else behind me helping me down too but I was in too much of a state to see, so if anyone helped me, then thank you so much. I was holding onto the metal rope so tightly I just couldn’t physically let go. I haven’t gripped anything that hard since someone tried to steal my Toblerone once.

I am so proud of myself that I did it but I wouldn’t do it again. I’m not destined to be an adrenalin junkie. I’ve never been so glad to touch the ground. I nearly did a Pope and kissed it. We’d run out of time to do the tree tops walk, but that was good because that’s when Sue had that second go at the wall and smashed it, meant to be.

Zumba was on offer after that but I was so wrung out from the zip wire I gave it a miss. The ladies that did take part were fabulous though. I could see Lucy outside my window dancing (as I was recovering) and she was marvelous.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t very well Sunday morning. I had a bad head and the warnings of a migraine coming on so I knew I had to head home. I missed out on boxercise and yoga, I hope yoga is on offer at the next camp as I would have loved to have tried that.

I felt very emotional travelling home on the train, I was upset I’d had to shoot off without saying proper goodbyes to everyone, but that probably would have probably set me off crying like the Niagara waterfalls, so a lucky escape for everyone else. I felt emotional because in the space of forty hours I’d met the most inspirational people and formed friendships that I know will last a lifetime.

Mark Flewitt and Heather Jayne Wynn, the coaches on the weekend, it’s difficult to put into words how much of life changers they are. You couldn’t wish to meet more supportive, empathetic, positive people. It’s like sorcery how a speech from Mark can really change how you think about yourself and make you believe in yourself. I wouldn’t call it going to boot camp, I’d call it going to reboot camp. Like a computer reboots itself to get rid of the nasties and the gremlins inside, this weekend rebooted my gremlins and nasties.

I will be eternally grateful to mark and Heather for rebooting me, grateful to Brian for making me want to embrace healthier foods, and forever grateful to have met all the lovely ladies I shared this experience with, you are all sparkly stars in a sometimes dark world, so keep sparkling.

Anxiously Anticipating an Action Weekend

Published July 5, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

I’m travelling so far out of my comfort zone that I’ve had to renew my passport and apply for a visa. When I booked an activity boot camp weekend six months ago it seemed like an exciting thing to do. Now that it’s less than forty-eight hours away it seems far, far away from exciting. Excitement and fear has a thin line. I’ve crossed the border, and I’m entering terror town.

I did something similar when I was ten years old. There was an outward bounds school trip which involved a two-night stay, lots of walking, sharing bunks, early mornings. This equaled lots of crying, anxiety and counting down the minutes to go home. I think this emotional response might be repeated this weekend. I should have had a flashback moment to this memory before booking. My brain is an ass at times.

Anxiety number one: I’m staying in an outwards bounds center. In a forest. I normally stay in no less than four star hotels, in cities. There are going to be insects, that will try and devour me. And no room service. I haven’t even checked if there’s any Wi-Fi there, I fear not, and that will send me into palpitations and a technological detox. It will be the longest I’ve gone without watching television. I don’t know if I’ll cope with that, I may have to be air-lifted to a multiplex cinema.

Anxiety number two: I’ll be sharing a bedroom. I haven’t slept in a room with someone else for fourteen years. I’m a light sleeper and must wear earplugs to obtain sleep when I’m by myself. I’ve packed five pairs of earplugs as I might have to ram them all in if I’m sharing with someone who snores, or breathes. My ear canals will be stretched to ear lakes.

I sleep nude. And if it’s hot, I sleep on top of the sheets, nude. It’s predicted to be hot this weekend. I’m going to have to wear a nighty. This means I will have no sleep as I’m also a fidgeter in bed and will end up with my nighty strangling me at various stages of the night. Death by nighty.

Anxiety number three: We’re having our meals cooked by a professional chef. Most people would think this is a lovely treat. Not me. I’m worried I won’t like the food, as I’m a fussy vegetarian who dislikes salads, dressings, and onions. What if I get hungry and have to eat my own arm? I’ve shaved it in preparation. Do I take emergency flapjacks with me? I’m not going to be able to eat them though, I’ll be with people all the time. I don’t want to have to lock myself in a toilet cubicle to eat, my high gag reflex won’t cope with eating in these conditions. I suppose I could wait until lights out and lick it in the darkness. But how could I smuggle flapjacks in? Bags might be searched, I might have a body pat down for contraband. I could hide them under my boobs, there’s room there for a whole traybake.

Anxiety number four: Communal bathroom. Those two words send frozen darts down my spine and straight to my coccyx. I have a phobia of swimming pools and don’t go swimming because the thought of putting my bare feet where someone else’s bare feet have been makes me feel physically sick. So, the thought of sharing a shower and toilet with eleven strangers is horrendous. I will be taking wet wipes with me and wet wiping myself clean.

Anxiety number five: Outdoors. I dislike going outdoors in temperatures over 18 degrees. Our activity days are forecast to be 25 and 20. This makes me want to cry. I need an air con suit as my portable air con unit isn’t that portable and doesn’t work outdoors. I hate being sweaty and uncomfortable. This weekend will just involve me being sweaty and uncomfortable. I have purchased a sun hat and will be basting myself in factor fifty.

Anxiety number six: People. I’m going to be spending forty-six hours with people. I never spend that long in company. My maximum is a ten-hour shift in work, and then I have to spend the following day in solitary confinement recovering from IPI (intense people interaction).

Anxiety number seven: Activities. Where do I start? I have an active mind but my body is as active as neglected plasticine. I will be doing climbing – I hate heights and I have long nails which are going to make it difficult to grab onto the wall and stop myself plunging to instant death, so I’m going to have to cut them short. I will feel naked. I don’t think I’m going to be able to pull myself up the wall. It’s going to be like a game of vertical twister. And I was never any good at the horizontal version.

I’ll be doing abseiling – very quickly to get it over with. I’ll probably forget to bounce off the wall intermittently and hurtle straight down breaking both legs. I’ll be doing a zip wire. I’m not going to be able to jump off myself, whoever is behind me is going to have to push me. I think I might scream so much I will be heard in Denmark. If it’s a high zip wire I may catch small birds in my flight path with my open mouth.

I’ll be doing canoeing. I’m a good swimmer but petrified of going under the water and getting trapped there. I’m also frightened I might spook myself by thinking ‘shark’ and end up panic paddling off down the river and into the ocean. If spotted off the coast anywhere please do throw me a life buoy, or a flapjack. If it’s hot I may tip myself in on purpose and go for a swim, but if anything touches my leg I will add yellow dye to the river. I will also be doing mountain biking, walking, orienteering, and optional aerobics classes.

These are some of my anxieties and that’s without adding in the five-hour public transport journey to Norfolk involving three train connections, one of which National Rail ticket sales have given me seven minutes between one of the connections. So, I will have been sprinting even before the activity weekend starts.

Is it too late to book a spa weekend instead?!

Reasons why I like to live alone.

Published June 10, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

1. I can exhale belches so deep that they sound like echoes from the Grand Canyon, amplified via five hundred and fifty-five megaphones.

2. I can throw my head back and open my jaw wider than the Wookey Hole cave, to yawn flamboyantly, vacuuming in sixty-eight per cent of the room’s oxygen.

3. I can release my wind freely, while playing television theme tunes with my pliable buttocks. The A-Team is my most accomplished piece.

4. I can leave my legs unshaven. And as I don’t have a pet this is also therapeutic to stroke them while watching Emmerdale.

5. I can walk around nude, feeling totally free, without having to supply brain bleach to anyone.

6. I can dance in my underwear whenever I want to. I would dance nude but large boobs and gravity are dance saboteurs.

7. I can have a day without wearing make-up, without anyone thinking I’m ill, or dead. I can’t risk decapitation because I’m mistaken for a zombie.

8. I can also do the opposite, experiment with bright coloured make-up. I can spend the day resembling the result of a drag queen and geisha’s lusty liaison without scaring the bejesus out of anyone. Except maybe an unexpecting postman.

9. I can watch whatever I want on television. A sport free zone. A political free zone. A Top Gear free zone.

10. I can have good quality conversation with myself about conspiracy theories, ninja cats, and Spongebob Squarepants.

11. I can eat four jam doughnuts in a row, and leave my face covered with sugar for the whole time of consumption.

12. I can sing loudly and badly in the shower, and twerk in the shower without worrying about offending the ears or eyes of innocent bystanders.

13. I can snore like a grizzly bear and not annoy anyone. And I can get a good night’s sleep myself without having to listen to anyone else snore, breath, release gas, or sleep talk about their work colleague stealing their yogurt.

14. I can cry when I need to. Being an emotional person sometimes it’s therapeutic to just have a good cry and let it all out. This might freak a cohabiter out to suddenly burst into tears while dusting. Although dusting can reduce me to tears all by itself.

15. I can have quiet time when I need it. Sometimes I need to not have contact with fellow human beings – this is an overlap from being a cat in a previous life. I like to be left alone to eat and sleep and write/play with a cat nip stuffed mouse.

This is why I like to live alone.

Eurovision 2nd Semi-final Rehearsal

Published May 10, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

As with my review of the first semi-final, if you want to play a drinking game then it’s a shot for a white outfit, a wind machine or a cape. Although, spoiler – there are no capes in this second semi-final. I will be having non-alcoholic pear cider myself, but some people need real alcohol to get through Eurovision.

1. Serbia – This song has grown on me and now I love it. There’s a white see-through dress, and it looks like she has a swimsuit on underneath, shame there’s not a water tank on stage she could make use of, but sadly she stays in the one spot. Watch out for the male dancer when he does an impressive fast backwards circular run. I can’t even run like that going forwards. Oh, and there’s a wind machine. Two shots

2. Austria – Nathan wears a white suit with ankle avoiding trousers. Not much of a stage performance from a young lad, he just sings from a crescent moon, jumps down, and jumps back up. I could do that. One shot.

3. FYR Macedonia – Yay! One of my favourite songs and she has fringing on her outfit – another favourite feature of mine. Wearing black not white. Upbeat fun performance. No shots though.

4. Malta – Nothing about this song or performance leaves me breathless. A white wedding dress combined with a wind machine, boring staging. Two shots.

5. Romania – This is like Marmite, you’re either going to love it or hate it! I love it. Yodeling, bright fun graphics, a bouncy duo, and two huge cannons on stage. The cannons didn’t do anything in the rehearsal show, I’m hoping for glitter or confetti being fired out into the audience on the live show. No shots. Unless the cannons fire, then I’m having two bonus shots.

6. Netherlands – This trio of women sound like Wilson Phillips to me, they wear black sparkly outfits but just sing on stage in a line, not dynamic enough for me. No shots.

7. Hungary – Too traditional and folksy for me. Nice dancing though from the singer and dancer, wearing a white dress so have a shot for that.

8. Denmark – Red dress, no wind machine in rehearsal but I wouldn’t be surprised if one is whipped out for the live show to give this performance some life. Dull. No shots.

9. Ireland – Brendan looks about twelve and sings from a pretend hot air balloon. I was hoping it would fly off with him in it but alas it stays put. Dreary song that wouldn’t even make it onto a Westlife tribute band CD. No shots.

10. San Marino – An upbeat fun song, duo singers competing with black leather trousers and sparkly black jackets. Bright disco lights, but slightly disappointed with the effort of dancing, looks like my style at a school disco in 1988. No shots.

11. Croatia – Croatia’s Pavarotti, but a little trendier as he has sparkly shoes and wears a leather jacket over his suit tails. The song doesn’t do it for me, but a good performance. No shots.

12. Norway – Something a little different, a funky singer and three masked men with hoods, one playing drums, one playing the keyboards, and one just banging a table. No shots.

13. Switzerland – A very eye-catching bright yellow dress, a homage to big bird or beauty and the beast? Hurrah, a wind machine. One shot.

14. Belarus – This couple remind me of Jack Black and his sister. Folksy and upbeat but not my cup of tea. She’s wearing a white dress though so one shot.

15. Bulgaria – A favourite with the bookmakers but not with me. Like Ireland’s entry he looks about twelve (am I just getting old? – rhetorical question). Wearing a black suit, but the crotch of his trousers is heading towards his knees, I was distracted from the performance as I just wanted to yank his trousers up. No shots.

16. Lithuania – Another favourite of mine. Dynamic, funky, and lively. Singer wears a red dress and puts on a great performance. My only puzzlement is the artist is Fusedmarc – but who’s Marc and what is he fused to? No shots.

17. Estonia – This song could easily be a Steps song. Koit is in a black suit, Laura in a white dress, and they have simple but effective black and white screen staging. If Steps don’t want them as reserves, Koit could be in a Bros tribute band. Lost in Verona – no need to be with Google maps. One shot.

18. Israel – Great song to end the show. High energy, high testosterone, not so sure about the mesh vest though Imri. No shots.

Nine shots in total, eleven if the cannons go off in Romania’s performance. My fingers are crossed.

Eurovision 1st Semi Final Rehearsal Review

Published May 6, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

I’ve watched the rehearsal footage of the first semi-final acts, and a top tip is if you want to play a drinking game and get drunk, have a shot every time a white outfit, wind machine and cape turn up in a performance. If all three occur at the same time, have double shots. Here are my opinions on the performances.

1. Sweden – I love this song, I’ve championed it from the start and it’s still in my top 5. I’m disappointed though that two of the original backing dancers/singers have been switched with replacements, I’m not sure why as I can only find references to it being due to a rule of the contest – presumably not allowing too many handsome men on stage at one time I guess. The routine hasn’t changed for the show, stylish men in suits and trainers dancing on treadmills who wouldn’t look out of place on a Milan cat walk. Is it wrong that I want to join a gym now just to dance on a treadmill? Starting off sober, zero shots.

2. Georgia – I was hoping for a Bon Jovi number when hearing the song was called Keep the Faith, but no, a belter of a song that wouldn’t be out of place in a James Bond film, complete with a Bond Girl singer in a red sparkly figure hugging outfit. She has a red cape and a wind machine. Two shots.

3. Australia – All about the singer here, his image is on the screens behind and it’s just him singing on a giant turntable. He’s wearing a grey coat, which is almost a cape, and his trousers don’t meet ankles. It might be fashionable, he might like to flash his ankles, but it does nothing for me. And even though I applaud him for singing while spinning around on the turntable, part of me, the wicked part, wants the turntable operator to speed it up faster as the song goes on just so he flies off at the end. No shots, but a sip for the cape-like coat.

4. Albania – Love the steampunk graphics on screen for this song. There is a wind machine and the singer is wearing white with silver sparkles, and starts with a veil that flings back into a skirt cape. Allowing three shots here, and that doubles to six!

5. Belgium – Blanche wears a full white ballgown for this, it looks like she’s concealing something. If doves don’t fly out from under there at the end I’ll be disappointed. I’m already disappointed with the vocals, the recorded track sounds much better than the live performance. Plus, she stands still in one spot, I know it’s not a lively song but a bit of oomph or facial expression would be good. One shot for the dress. Bonus gulp from the bottle if doves do indeed fly out from under the dress.

6. Montenegro – Distraught by this performance as it was my favourite to win, based on the recorded track. Shockingly bad vocals live, and his dancing should be phenomenal but my bowels have move movement than this. He seems to be going for if in doubt twirl your fake plait around, I was hoping it would get caught in the lighting rig to liven this performance up. No shots. Although I might have a consolation shot for wasting money betting on this one.

7. Finland – Bucking the trend here as they have gone for black ballgown, and instead of a wind machine have chosen smoke machine. The background graphics put me into a boredom trance. Another performer who doesn’t move from the spot. No shots.

8. Azerbaijan – The strangest staging so far. Singer wears a silky Columbo mac while scrawling on blackboard walls, while a man wearing a horse’s head stands on a step ladder. He takes the horse head off to reveal an Azerbaijan Rylan Clark. Good vocals, good song, but not so good that even though the song is called Skeletons there are no actual skeletons on stage. No shots.

9. Portugal – The singer’s sister has been standing in for him during rehearsals as he has a mystery illness that prevents him being away from healthcare for too long. His sister looks like him though so it’s easy to imagine him on stage (I think Salvador has just dressed as a female and is pretending to be his sister for japes). There is minimal staging, just the singer and the song, again not moving from the spot. No shots.

10. Greece – The singer is wearing a flesh colour dress, there are two topless Greek men dancing around her but not much movement from her and considering it’s an up-tempo track is disappointing. There is a wind machine though. One shot.

11. Poland – Not a memorable song or performance. Singer wears a white dress/weird toga and there is a wind machine. Two shots.

12. Moldova – I love this one, so much fun. The toe tapping ‘get this chewing gum off my shoe’ dance is in there, the running man dance while playing the saxophone is cool, the screen graphics are funky, the backing dancers/singers have dresses that switch from black and white into wedding dresses, and I do love a costume within a costume. One shot.

13. Iceland – Wow. If Iceland’s entry was a superhero she’d be PVA Glue Woman. She’s wearing a white PVC jumpsuit, white latex platforms, white plastic cape, and has her blonde hair scraped back into a no-nonsense ponytail. In the jumpsuit, there is a cut out to showcase her boobs, like a pornographic power ranger. There is a wind machine, but no way is that knocking her off those platforms. Three shots doubled! Six shots.

14. Czech Republic – Well we’ve just had PVA Glue Woman so now bring on Ferrero Roche Woman. This is the worst outfit so far. A metallic bronze foil boiler-suit is not flattering to even beautiful people. Background screen graphics show people dancing slowly in nude underwear, like a beginners swingers party. The most un-erotic thing I’ve seen. No shots.

15. Cyprus – Hovig reminds me of Chico. I like the song, it reminds me of last years’ Russian entry. He wears a black suit, but another ankle avoiding trouser. There are lots of balancing yoga moves in the dance routine which will give me a good workout as I dance along. At one point in rehearsals he lies down to sing, I’m guessing this will correspond with floor graphics. Or he might have just been tired. No shots.

16. Armenia – The screen graphics remind me of a lava lamp, that’s all I have to say about this performance. Oh, and she wears a black trouser suit. No shots

17. Slovenia – Dull staging to match a dull song. He wears a black suit, and the background graphics at one point look like a spaceship is going to beam him up, unfortunately it didn’t. No shots.

18. Latvia – Great staging with a punky neon set. Wind machine and weird fashion. Singer has metallic thigh high boots, which look like the Wonder Woman boots I made when I was seven out of my mum’s kitchen foil. Good song to end the night on. One shot.

Twenty shots, and a sip, in total*.
*This could change on the actual night if wind machines are added to other performances.

Cinema Crimes

Published April 15, 2017 by Naomi Rettig

I love the cinema. If I won the lottery I would build my own mini cinema, for use only by myself, and maybe any friends that have cinema etiquette. Most people these days don’t have cinema etiquette and should stay at home and watch DVD’s. But they don’t. They filter into cinemas annoying those of us easily annoyed by the human species know as ‘totalious inconsiderous twatus’. There are four main crimes that the T.I.T.s are guilty of.

Personal space invaders: These are the people who, even though the cinema is three quarters empty, will sit directly behind or in front of you. Compete T.I.T.s will sit in the seat next to you. This happened to me yesterday. Partial blame was with the ticket sales lady who acted as an enabler to the T.I.T that sat next to me. When myself and my friend bought our tickets, and were asked where we wanted to sit, I gave the usual answer: at the back away, far from other people. Imagine my horror then, in the three hundred seat cinema, when there were only ten of us dotted around, a beige couple and hyperactive adolescent headed straight towards us. Yes, the sadistic ticket lady had seated them directly next to me. Now, any normal human being would have looked at me, hogging the arm rest and with a face like a homicidal hippo on crystal meth, and would have decided to sit in any of the remaining two hundred and ninety seats available. But no, these T.I.T.s were sticking to their allocated seats. I was speechless. My friend and I moved seats, I gave my best death stare. Their faces have been saved to the facial recognition software in my brain, and when the zombie apocalypse arrives, (putting on my best Liam Neeson voice) I will look for them, I will find them, and I will kill them.

Noisy eaters: Most films are an hour and a half or two hours tops. For Satan’s sake can people not go ninety to a hundred minute without stuffing their faces with food. But not just any food, noisy food. Nachos are not a good cinema food. Sitting in proximity to the replicated noise of a hamster annihilating an acre of Ryvita raises my blood pressure greatly. Suck your nachos, this will make you a better person. Actually, scrap that, all food should be banned. Because if you’re quietly devouring a hot dog I’m being distracted from the film by the smell of reconstituted meat and onions. Pick’n’mix may be acceptable if you tear along the paper bag before the film starts, so there’s not that annoying rustle every time a hand is dunked in and swooshed around. Why are people searching in their bags of pix’n’mix? They chose the sweets that are in there themselves, so just grab the first one you come to, it’s not going to be a complete surprise. What will be a complete surprise is when I track you down after the zombie apocalypse and ram twenty-six chocolate mice down your throat.

Mobile phone addicts: People, please turn your phones off before going into the cinema. Don’t be a T.I.T. You’ve paid money to watch a film, why do you want to miss chunks of it by checking your Facebook, emails, and Twitter feed. Watch the film, not your phone. Do you not realise that when you swipe your screen on, it’s like the Blackpool illuminations for people ten rows back and beyond, for everyone closer it’s like staring directly at an eclipse. And if you are sat within my eyesight range I will see your name as you browse your Facebook, and this will make tracking you down during the zombie apocalypse much easier for me.

Talkers: When I’m watching a film, I like to go into ‘cinema trance’ and get totally absorbed into the film. Having to listen to people talking about completely irrelevant drivel drains my patience. I don’t know your friends Adam and Laura, therefore I don’t care about or want to hear about Adam’s latest STD or Laura’s new juice plan diet. I certainly don’t want to hear this while I’m trying to transport myself into the film. And if you’ve brought someone to the cinema with you that needs the film plot explained to them in minute detail, is this not irritating for you? It’s blooming irritating for me, listening to: Who’s that? Why are they pressing that button? Why is she wearing a green dress? Just shut up and watch the fudging film, because when that zombie apocalypse happens, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you. Unless I’m too busy killing zombies. Or hiding. Or eating nachos and pick’n’mix in my private cinema, while checking my phone for Instagram zombie pics.