You’re talking shit mate…..

I was walking back from an appointment today and a bird abruptly turned around and looked at me. “Did you see that” she said. “No” I replied “but I did say to myself, what’s she fuckin looking at” (the scally in me can’t help herself sometimes). It’s okay though, she laughed and what followed was a very intellectual convo (I know, they are two words that should not be next to each other right).

Turns out, an actual bird flew so close that it almost hit her on the head. As my inner judgy bitch (I know it’s bad but I can’t shake this wrongun off) was laughing her head off and eye rolling at the dramatics; I said “well at least it didn’t shit on you.” “Some people say that’s good luck” she replied.

Now, I am by no means a cynical person but when she said this I did wonder out loud if someone had made that up. At this time, I just happened to be walking past my fave people watching/ lunch spot (that just happens to be a bar serving reasonably priced decent wine) and in the name of research, ordered a large glass (a vital research necessity) and proceeded to ask Uncle Google, what he knew about bird shit and if it was in fact lucky.

Did this myth come from some distant land many moons ago, nope. Did I find anything explaining where this saying come from, nope. I did find this v amusing blog of a bloke documenting his bird shit encounters from 1998 to last week (funny AF). I also found an article on how to get birds to shit on you (spolier: tips include sprinkling bird seed on yourself and painting your own shit white).

After extensive research (and two glasses of wine) I have come to the conclusion that someone just made it up to make someone feel better and it stuck (hahaha did you see what I did there). I reckon someone was having a proper shite day and complaining to his/ her/ whatever you want to be friend that they were forever getting shit on by people and then to top it all off, a fuckin bird (the winged kind) literally had a shit on him.

Some people are really nice human beings, they just can’t help themselves, if someone is feeling bad they have to make them feel better (I know, how bloody sweet). So this guy’s/ girl’s/ whoever you want to be’s friend turns around and said “it’s lucky if a bird shits on you mate” and that’s where it comes from (fuckin genius).

In other news: I start work next week and will have no time for lunch out, boozy afternoons and blog posts about shit. Letting you all know so you can mentally prepare for what I know is going to be great loss to some #shitjustgotreal

 

Be whoever you want to be!!

So I didn’t let my shite performance at the last dance class put me off. I went back to RSVP 33 last night full of enthusiasm and praying my inner Beyonce was back from vacation and guess what…….bitch showed up!

I stopped thinking about the moves and just, well moved, it came to me more naturally and I was having so much fun. My inner warrior nodded her seal of approval as I flicked my hair, popped my ass out and pushed my chest forward. I am Beyonce, this is awesome, I am having soooo much fun, oh look a mirror, I should watch myself see how cool I look.

Did I look ridiculous twerking “backing it up like a U-Haul truck” (our instructors clear directions), was I the oldest bird there, covered in tattoos looking out of place flicking her hair like she was on an actual Beyonce music video.  Yep, I was all those things but you know what, I was having so much fun and laughing my head off!

To often we don’t do things that we might enjoy, through fear of looking daft or just being proper shite at it. I say, just do it fuck what anybody else thinks, you concentrate on your own happiness and if you want to be Beyonce then go head girl, you be Beyonce.

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do something, especially yourself!

In other news, my friends are inbound and my birthday weekend about to start. I will apologize to Vancouver now, for any offence or disruption we may cause this weekend 🙂

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Be whoever you want to be #slay

I am not Beyonce…….

This is it, this is when my outstanding dancing skills finally get recognized. I wonder how long it would take to become an instructor? Feel like I’m going to Julliard; I am a dancer, nothing can stop me (oh look Nandos, didn’t know they had them in Vancouver).  This is literally what was going on in my head when I got off the bus last night and walked to the Vancouver Dance Centre to start my 6 week Good Girl x Bad Girl dance workshop with RSVP 33.

I signed in and got in the elevator (lift for Brits) bursting with excitement. An older lady joined me and said she was also there for a class. I couldn’t imagine her shaking her booty but hey if that’s what she wanted to do, good for her. As we chatted it became apparent that she was actually here for ballet, I think we were both more at ease when we realised we wouldn’t be in the same class!

I got to the fourth floor and joined the excited group of women also waiting to release their inner Beyoncé. This is my dance crew, I thought, oh fabulous, I wonder who will end up being my BFF?!! One girl piped up “I went to the third floor by mistake and they were doing a ballet class, I watched for a few minutes. How do their bodies do that?!” I didn’t say anything but secretly thought I probably could with a little training.

The other class finished and it was our turn to go in let’s do this woop woop.

I instantly loved our instructor Kevin Fraser who gave us a run down saying “if you’re here to work out then work out, if you here to look cute and whip your hair, then you whip your hair!” Love it!

There was a cool bird helping Kevin out with his classes (she was becoming an instructor) she was v dancerish, even had her dance pants one up one down (what is that about?). We had a fab warm up and started getting into the dance mood with some chest out booty in and vice versa exercises. I was so excited, this is where I belong, at last!

We started dancing, it was part of a routine that looked easy enough, which I thought I could easily master. I was shite, like proper shite, my dreams of becoming a dance instructor flew out the window faster than a Concorde jet. I didn’t understand it, where the fuck is my inner Beyoncé, is she still on Christmas break, that bloody bitch!! I was uncoordinated, turned the wrong way and for the life of me could not get my arm to move in tune with my opposite leg…..disaster.

I did have the most fun though and was reassured watching others who were also struggling, well equally as shite as me (maybe they’ll be my new BFFs). There was also birds who picked it up straight away (smug bitches), bet their inner Beyoncé’s were right there for them.

Despite being shite, I loved the class, it was so much fun and everyone had a laugh. It’s not serious and you can do your own thing if you really want to. One girl asked Kevin “which way are you rolling your body” he showed us how he was rolling and then his assistant (the cool dancer bird) said “if the other way works for you just go that way.” Kevin shouted “options, you all have options.” This really is the general attitude, the main thing is that you have fun and I did, so much so that I am now looking to sign up for another class!! I only hope that my inner Beyoncé saw my pitiful performance and is back in time for my girls only birthday night out!

In other news, if my terrible dancing wasn’t enough to drive me into hibernation, I have also pledged to join Toastmasters. In some study conducted somewhere, it was found that people are more scared of public speaking than death. There is even a name for this fear Glossophobia. I was telling the wife how I was one of them people who hated it and how I literally go to pieces. She told me about Toastmasters and encouraged me to join, I didn’t of course, why would I put myself through that shit?!! But, new year, new me and I have decided to conquer this fear. I start Monday, will keep you posted!

Pep Talk
Getting a pep talk from my ladies before dance class!