| by Bel | 9.19am NZ time |

You guys, how gross are food courts? Ugggh! So gross!

The main thing that gives me the heebiejeebies about food courts is that there is never any natural light.

It is always super harsh overhead fluro and you get the feeling that quite possibly it never changes, like those casinos where they want to deceive you against the passing of time.

I did a Google Image search for "food court" and look at the horror that hit mine eyes:

Ugggggh!

There is a generic aesthetic to food courts which makes them both abhorrent and comforting. You can rest assured that the formica table will be a little sticky, that the spindly aluminum legs of the chairs will scrape ear-piercingly across the tiled floor, that there will be confusion over where you should stack your tray and dump cutlery.

There used to be one great food court in Wellington. (Sorry, BNZ Food Court, your weird combination of cavernous and rabbit warreny, and the fact that you are underground and therefore INCAPABLE of natural light, means you will never be great at anything other than helping me get to Lambton Quay in the rain.)

It was next to the Rialto, when there was a Rialto cinema, down one street back from the waterfront. It had big double doors on either side which were always open and funny murals painted up high on the walls. There was very little use of neon signage. Of course it has now been lost to the perpetual reconstruction of our central city.

| by Lou | 8.35pm UK time |

Do you know what really gets on my goat? Filling in an online form for which there is a Country dropdown, and not being able to find the country in which I live.

I don't know about you, but when confronted with listing the country in which I live, I would go straight for United Kingdom.

If United Kingdom isn't there I look for Great Britain.

If Great Britain isn't there I look for Britain.

If Britain isn't there I look for England.

If England isn't there I get really angry and shout "fuck's sake!" and scroll through the list in minute detail, finally finding UK at which point I say "who the fuck wrote this list?!" and click on it and submit the form while muttering "seriously, what the fuck?"

| Posted by Bel | The time is 12.17pm here in Wellington NZ |

I get so mad at people who refer to things' time period incorrectly.

EXAMPLES:

• "Ooh, I love your hair, so retro and 70s!" when hair is CLEARLY in a 60s-influenced back-combed bouffant.
• "Great dress, very 1960s looking!" when dress is OBVIOUSLY a tribute to Dior's New Look of the 1940s.
• "I like those T-bar sandals, they look so World War II ish" when T-bar style shoes are a 1920s throwback as EVERYONE SURELY KNOWS.

ANOTHER EXAMPLE:

Just this morning I overheard a colleague on the phone:
"Yeah, they've just opened it, over in Miramar. The cinema's been done up completely. It's all in, um, it's in that, ahh - 1940s, 1950s style. Looks great!"

I was resisting the urge to writhe on the floor howling as this went on, as I knew that this person was referring to the Roxy Cinema.

I will borrow a few gorgeous pics from Alice's Niceties blog to demonstrate just how "1940s, 1950s style" this place is. (NOT AT ALL. IT IS 1930s YOU FOOL. AND HOW COULD SOMETHING BE THE STYLE OF BOTH THE 40s AND THE 50s I ASK YOU?)

 

I mean COME ON!!

| Posted by Lou | The time is 9.15pm here in London UK |

Posh chips*.

Specifically variations of salt 'n' vinegar:




Don't fix what ain't broke - salt 'n' vinegar is perfect without the sea, and certainly without the balsamic, malt or Suffolk bloody cider!

Today I actually couldn't even find a single decent sized packet of plain old salt 'n' vinegar.

It's madness!!

And don't even get me started on having seen a glimpse of a packet that I swear to god was flavoured "roasted fox"...



*UK translation: crisps

| Posted by Lou | The time is 9.00pm here in London UK |

How much do you want to grab people's phones from their hands and throw them over a bridge into the filthy, filthy waters of the Thames when they are writing a text message and you realise with horror that they must still have their keyboard tones on because it sounds like this:

Beep beeeep beep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep Beeep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beeeep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep BEEEEEP Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep beeeeep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beeeeeeeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep BEEEEP Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep BEEEEEEEEEP beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beeeeeeeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep Beep beeeep BEEEEEP beeep beep Beep BEEEEEEP beeep beep beep BEEP beeeep Beep

?

| Posted by Lou | The time is 10.35pm here in London UK |

Living statues.



I fucking hate them.




Do these people look entertained? No, they look like they're going "why the fuck would someone think I would give them money for sitting still in an ugly metallic costume?"

Living statues suck.

| Posted by Lou | The time is 6.34pm here in London UK |

I hate paying to be advertised to.

When I go to the cinema and they play more than twenty minutes of ads (and that's not including the previews) I start to feel pathological anger. (Yes Odeon, I'm looking at you.)

When I buy/rent a DVD and pop it in and a whole bunch of ads come on, I start to feel pathological anger.

But my biggest pet peeve of this realm is that stupid - STUPID - anti-priacy ad. You know the one: "you wouldn't steal a car... you wouldn't steal a hand-bag..."

1. This ad only ever shows up on legit DVDs/ cinema screenings. You know, after you've paid. Which sort of implies that you are actually supporting the industry and not in fact pirating. Preaching to the choir much?

2. The examples are not comparable. Stealing a car is a very different thing than downloading a film.

3. Downloading something you actually wouldn't pay for so would never see otherwise actually does enhance the word-of-mouth marketing of that film. (Well, unless it's shit. In which case, who cares?) And in this world of spin-offs and sequels that potentially creates a paying customer for the next film's cinema release.

4. Fundamentally, how do they know I wouldn't steal a car?

5. Oh, and did I mention that the ad just generally sucks? And that if I see it one more time it might push me over the edge?



N.B.: I strongly advocate against the downloading of Kiwi cinema, of course. But when it comes to those Hollywood fuckers, go for your life. Unless the protagonist is a genuinely great female character, in which case you should give them money.

| Posted by Bel | The time is 10.01am here in Wellington NZ |

Something that always mortifies me is when I see someone strutting down the street looking fine in their finery - and then I spy price stickers still adhered to the bottom of their shoes.

This upsets me on many levels. Let's explore!

1) I am upset with myself because essentially I am just being judgemental because really my problem with it is that I think it looks common. Biiiiiiiitch.

2) It looks common. SHUT UP IT DOES!!

3) One of my favourite weird OCD pleasures in life is removing stickers off things after I have bought them. This includes, but is not limited to:

• CD jewel cases
• Paperback books
• Crockery sets
• Shoes

4) I feel an irrational personal concern for the bestickered person in the same way I do for people who are driving along with their coat or skirt caught outside of the door, or standing in front of me in a queue with a label sticking up out of their collar.

Visual examples sourced from Google Images:

This is someone called Fearne Cotton. I have no idea who she is and yet I feel such mortification on her behalf.

This is that woman Eva Longoria off telly. She always reminds me of a dear friend of mine to the extent that they are pretty much the same person in my head and thus seeing this, I am like "Oh Bee! How did I let this happen to you!" and feel personally responsible as well as mortified.

| Posted by Lou | The time is 5.51pm here in London UK |

What the fuck is the point of electric hand driers that don't actually dry your hands? All they provide is a limp gust of lukewarm air that would take days, if not years, to actually dry anything. They're just a big fat waste of the world's resources. Bring back hand towels!




(A caution to Wellingtonians: The Apartment bar has the ultimate combination of limp hand driers ("hand ticklers" is perhaps a more accurate term (actually I'm not even sure that there's enough gust to tickle)) and towels that are stuck behind glass, just to provide that extra slap in the face as you wipe your hands on your dress on your way out.)

| Posted by Lou | The time is 12.42pm here in London UK |

This is an action point for that universal pet peeve of going to make a lovely cup of tea... and realising you don't have any milk.

Or! Rolling out of bed on a Saturday morning and deciding to make some lovely spontaneous crepes... and realising you don't have any milk.

Both of these have happened to me in the last 12 hours and what did I do dear readers? Did I cry? Curse the universe?

No, I did not.

I opened my freezer and got out the little ice-cube bag that I keep filled with little blocks of milk, and I lived happily ever after.

The end.

| Posted by Lou | The time is 11.26am here in London UK |

Do you know what really gets on my tits? When I'm in a Thai restaurant and I order a lovely dish and they send it out with one big sprig of coriander sitting on top.



I love coriander and always end up having to pick it up with my fingers, delicately pick off bits of leaf, and spread it across my whole dish.

Would it be so hard for them to chop it up a little in the kitchen? It's there for flavour, not decoration.

Okay so some people don't like coriander, in which case they should ask for no coriander. Or if concerned the restaurant could put it on the side.

I would just like to eat a lovely Thai noodle dish without having to first look like a complete idiot by picking my coriander into little pieces.



Tangent:
I was googling for the image to accompany this and discovered that coriander is also known as cilantro. I was cooking a Vietnamese noodle soup the other day and could not for the life of me find cilantro in the supermarket and realised I didn't actually know what it was. Luckily being a coriander lover I was putting it onto the dish anyway.

| Posted by Bel | The time is 8.46am here in Wellington NZ |

Why is there never soy milk in the chiller section of the supermarket?

There is like a BILLION different types of dairy products, including cow milk in every possible incarnation from full milk bursting at the seams with cream, to organic with extra vitamins added and every gram of fat zapped out.

Yoghurt has become an industry of its own in recent years. No longer do we just have strawberry Fresh N Fruity slowly going tepid in kids' lunchboxes, the varieties are now seemingly ENDLESS and eye-booglingly exotic. There is even available a yoghurt specifically for men [trigger warning: for utterly inane sexism].

And yet if - SAY! - you were someone who enjoyed eating a bowl of cereal at your desk in the morning, and consuming the breastmilk of another mammal not only made you feel queasy at the thought, but also wreaked havoc on your sinuses, you are PLAIN OUTTA LUCK. Because your only option is to buy boxed soy milk off the shelf.

And then it is all warm and gross and you have to wait, like, ages before you can have your cereal! Unlike all those selfish Fonterra-loving milk guzzlers who swan by, pick up their glistening and beaded bottles, and waltz on to an instanteously delicious (and correctly temperatured) meal.

| Posted by Lou | The time is 4.32pm here in London UK |

I really fucking hate advertisements that spout meaningless statistics. Like, not just that the statistics are dumb, but that they actually literally mean nothing.

It actually made me develop a twitch to be standing on a tube platform the other day surrounded by posters declaring:

"Londoners are 30% more likely to [fucking hate meaningless statistics?]!"*

30% more likely than who??!?!!!



*In case you care about the specifics, it was something like "possess smart phones" and was an ad for The New Statesman.