Our Darkest Hour

I have been genuinely scared only a handful times in my life.

Last night was one of them. Walking through Clapham Junction at 8.00pm, the smell of expectancy was thick in the air. Instead of yummy mummies with pushchairs, hundreds of hooded teenagers were milling on the streets, waiting for their chance to mindlessly destroy other people’s homes and livelihoods. Clutching my boyfriend’s hand, I felt nauseous and frightened as I overhead some boys, no older than 15 talking about doing over a bottle shop. I have never been so relieved to get in my front door.  

With London essentially a war zone, and the police ineffectual and powerless to take control due to policing by consent, I would like know how the parents in London have let a generation of children grow up with no respect for other people’s property.

London has a long and strong history or picking itself up after troubled times. It has survived a thousand years or plagues, fires, invasions, treason, and in our time The Blitz and terrorist bombings. And in all these times Londoners have stood together, side by side and carried on.

But this time, the threat is internal. Local youths are destroying their local shops. With the police powerless, and calls for curfews and the armed forces to be brought in, it’s hard to remember that these criminals are teenagers. Youths with no greater political or religious purpose, taking over the city suburb by suburb in the quest for flat screen TV’s and trainers.

I find myself thinking about the inspiring words of Winston Churchill during the war.. We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength… We shall defend our island whatever the cost may be… We shall never surrender.

I bet when he was telling this great nation to never give up, he never imagined that the threat would be coming from within.  If the acts of Londoners during the Blitz was our finest hour, then surely this is our darkest.

Revisiting My Youth

 

Today I am off to relive my youth at the Caloundra Rollerdrome.  Can’t wait!

I think that many people my age have lost touch with “Playing”.  Sure there is drinking and bedtime play.. but I’m  not talking about that.  I’m talking about actually playing, kicking a ball around, playing hide and seek, building a fort. I think at any age it is fun!   I reckon this is why Grandparents enjoy themselves so much, their Grandkids force them to play games and stuff again.

So today I am going ice-skating… in the middle of summer. Awesome! 

PS… HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY to one of my very best friends!! Looking forward to an awesome night out!

Supre… Not For The Over 21s

I was shopping today at the local shopping centre and I now feel terribly old. 

The Plaza was full of teenagers and I was absolutely baffled as to what they were wearing.  Never mind that they are all rude little shits, I do not understand how a fake leather mini skirt and a black bikini top constitutes an outfit acceptable for going to a shopping centre.

Going into Supre I started to panic.  The music was too loud, everything I picked up was an XXS, it was full of 14 year olds (hips and breasts yet to develop) looking at t-shirts that say North Pole Dancer.  I had to leave.  I was scared that I would catch puberty of one of them. 

Perhaps spinsterhood is closer than I thought??

Day/Post 31 of 265

Would I Want to be 17 Again?

Yesterday I braved the school holiday crowds to go and see my latest celebrity crush Zac Efron’s new movie 17 Again.

The movie in itself was highly enjoyable, and eclectic mix of comedy, teenage romance with the right amount of awkwardness and bare chests thrown in.

However, seeing this movie was a horrific flashback to my days of being 14-15. Were we really so fricking rude to the other people in the cinema? Throwing popcorn, running around and generally just being annoying. The girl next to me was hogging the entire arm rest and the girl on my other side was constantly talking to her sister about Greek Philosophy (No, I am not kidding).

Also I am sure that I did not wear clothes so revealing when I was a youngster... this could have been due to the fact my mother would not let me shave my legs so I therefore covered them as much as possible and also my boobs did not come in until about 20, so nothing to show there.
Would I, like Matthew Perry in said movie, want to go back to high school and do-over? Relive the so called glory days? The answer to that is of course a resounding NO. High school sucked. The girls were mean, the boys took no interest in me . I was awkward and my allergies were bad. And whilst most of my fellow Class of 2000 now have careers, spouses and babies, I have at least travelled most of Europe, I have seen the world and got some experience that they will never have been able to get on the Sunshine Coast.

And whilst I am sure I would like my own “It’s a Wonderful Life” Capra-esque moment of doing life again (Really.. Matthew Perry jumping off the bridge to save the old man??? COME ON.. what a rip off! Jimmy Stewart would not be amused) I would not go back to high school. I would travel back about a year.. end my ex-relationship for good instead of letting it linger, and I would not have come back to Australia. But then who knows what would have happened? I could have died of pneumonia in the big freeze London had earlier in the year.

I have decided that the whole time-shift thing is rubbish and only works in movies where you know that you are guaranteed a happy ending. Life will continue in the same way no matter what. Therefore I shall not dwell on the past, but instead dwell on Zac Efron shirtless... Zac if you ever fancy an older woman to show you a thing or two... let me know.