Don't Rip Your EMO, Chuck

There's this ad keeps appearing in my Google AdSense thingy, asking me if I'm EMO and, if so, do I want to meet other people who are EMO so I can hang out with them, upload pics and blog about whatever. Well, apart from the fact that I have no desire to hang out with anybody (does the word "hermit" not mean anything?), I have absolutely no idea whether or not I am EMO because I don't know what EMO is. At least, I didn't earlier today. Now I think I might know, but I'm still not entirely sure.

As part of my investigation, I clicked on the link, but it was no help whatsoever, it simply took me to a sign-up page, although the site appears to be Australian so I thought maybe EMOS were a variation of emus. I then entered EMO in Google and it appears to be short for emotional ... well, I can certainly admit to that. However, on further investigation it appears to be emotional music, only not the sort of music I would class as emotional.

However, I quite like this description: "Genre of softcore punk music that integrates unenthusiastic melodramatic 17-year-olds who don't smile, high-pitched overwrought lyrics and inaudible guitar rifts with tight wool sweaters, tighter jeans, itchy scarfs (even in the summer), ripped chucks with favorite band's signature, black square-rimmed glasses and ebony greasy unwashed hair that is required to cover at least 3/5ths of the face at an angle."

Now, were I still 17, I would probably be quite enamoured with a male person fitting this description, on account of how I was somewhat strange at that time when it came to what I did and didn't find attractive (I still am, but I've advanced somewhat in my age preference). However, as I am most definitely not 17 (and unable to pass for 17 even with the most amazing light system ever invented), I would probably find it rather perturbing. I therefore feel that this advertisement has no place on my blog and I will be considering visiting AdSense to ban it. I don't even want to attract 17-year-olds to it because they might leave messages telling me I'm old.

Although I think I now know what EMO is, I have absolutely no idea what ripped chucks are. I thought maybe they were jeans, but the description already mentioned those, so they must be something else. If anyone knows what they are, please tell me. If you know what unripped chucks are, tell me that instead, because I can probably work it out from there.

Obsessed With Flashing Lights

Without further ado I will start catching-up on the last couple of years or so. We'll start with why I disappeared back in October 2004, although you might find it hard to believe, or parts of it anyway.

It happened like this. There I was, sat at my computer thinking about posting a blog entry, when without warning there was this incredible flash of light and a voice came out of the ether and said: "Woman! Get off your arse and do something useful for a change!". Well, to say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement. I swear my gast had never been so flabbered. What could I do but obey? Voices don't come out of the ether that often, especially not accompanied by incredible flashes of light. I simply couldn't ignore it.

So, what useful thing did I do? Well, I went into the hall, picked up the jiffy bag that had just plopped onto my doormat, opened it, took out my brand-new The Sims 2 cd, put it into my disc drive ... well, that was that. I was totally hooked and forgot all about my blogs. I get these obsessions, you see, and I tend to jump from one to the next without warning. It can be quite unnerving at times. I did briefly think about starting a Sims 2 blog, but I never got around to it because I was too obsessed with playing it.

I have to say that part of the above explanation isn't entirely true, but you'll have to decide for yourself which part. In case you're wondering, my obsession with TS2 lasted almost 2 years, when it was replaced by an obsession with something not entirely dissimilar, but different. This in turn led to an obsession with something even better which is part of the first obsession but also separate from it, but I may decide not to go into that, at least not for the moment.

That's all for now. I need more comments on this and the previous one before I give anymore away. I know people are still reading this blog, otherwise it wouldn't have a 4/10 Google rating almost 2 1/2 years after it was last updated. That tells me that it has continued to be very popular and that I am probably the most undiscovered talent on the planet. Then again, it could be because of all the idiots who've been coming here spamming me about boobies, car insurance and tarot cards. I knew there had to be a catch somewhere.

Huge Prodding Boobies ... I'm Back!!!

Yes, the Eccentric Bohemian Hermit is BACK!!! So, you see, I was not abducted by aliens (unfortunately, a woman of my delicate years never says no to a bit of free prodding) or anything else untoward ... wanna know what happened? Well, maybe I will tell you tomorrow, that way you have no choice but to come back ...

Anyway, I wasn't amused when I came back. All those spam comments offering me everything from car insurance to huge boobies ... first thing I did was delete as many as I could find before I started falling asleep from total boredom. I will do the rest when I get around to it. Quite why so many people offered me tarot readings and the like on this blog instead of my other one is anybody's guess. Not sure whether I'm going to update that one or delete it, probably the latter. I know people liked it, but it was just too much hassle. I may start a new blog, though. I already have a subject in mind, but I'm not going to mention it for a few days. Look, I have to keep people visiting, OK?

So, that's it for this first post in over two years. I know you're all desperate for more (well, this one was rather boring, wasn't it), but good things come to those who wait. I should point out that I think I am probably rather more eccentric now and I'm certainly more Bohemian, but it's possible that I am slightly less hermit-like. It could be an age thing. Christine might know, she was this age 2 years ago ...

Oh, and before I forget, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Celine Dion is Haunting My Computer!

My computer is acting very strangely, very strangely indeed. I know there is probably a simple technical explanation for what I am about to tell you, but not being technically-minded I have no idea what it might be. Needless to say, if anyone reading this does have an idea, please tell me.

Last night, before I went to bed, I played a few games of back­gammon on said computer. At that point, there were no other programs running. After I'd finished, I clicked the start button, then the shutdown button. At the same time as I pressed the latter, the most amazing thing happened. CELINE DION SANG TO ME.

I kid you not, Celine Dion really did start singing to me. She was singing "Titanic" and the actual words she sang were "Once more, you opened the door, and you ...", at which point she was cut off in her prime because the computer closed down. I sat there open-mouthed, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I do have that song on my hard-drive, but I haven't played it in a while and I'd had none of my music players running yesterday. How could Celine just start singing to me like that?

This morning I switched on the computer and as my desktop appeared, so did Celine. This time she sang "Near, far, wherever you are" at me. She stopped there, at the point where all the icons appeared and the desktop was fully loaded. I decided to try rebooting to see what happened and this time she started singing when I hit the restart button - the same words exactly as she sang to me last night when I shut down.

WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?! As I said, I'm sure there's a rational explanation for this (although I wouldn't be saying that now if I didn't have that song on my hard drive, I'd be calling Psychics Anonymous). And even if there is a rational explanation, could those words mean anything? Is someone from afar going to open a door to me? Is this a real door, or a metaphorical door?

You've got to admit, this is mighty peculiar. I'm not averse to a nice song, but Celine really shouldn't start singing at people like that unannounced, it just isn't right. If anyone else has experienced Celine Dion singing to them like this (or any other person), or if you have even the remotest inkling what this is all about, please let me know.

Oh No! Not the F Word Again!

Yesterday, my almost eight-year-old son lost a tooth at school. When it was time for bed he realised he'd forgotten to bring it home, so had to write a note to the Tooth Fairy. In the note, he said he would leave the tooth the following night and could he please have his money.

Today, he left the tooth at school again. When he went to bed he wrote another note, explaining the situation and promising to leave the tooth under his pillow tomorrow night.

He read the note out to me and I almost fell through the floor when he calmly said, "I'm sorry Tooth Fairy, I'm afraid it's the F word again". I braced myself for what might be to come ... you can imagine my relief when he went on to say "Yes, I FORGOT it today as well".

Sky-Blue-Pink With Yellow Dots On

Whenever I am in a hurry, I always encounter delays that normally never happen and they nearly always involve supermarkets. Sod's Law is rife in my part of the world and yesterday it reared its ugly head again.

I had about eighty minutes to get to the supermarket and back so I could play in an online cribbage tournament. Anyway, all went very well, I whizzed round the aisles grabbing this, that and the other (I like grabbing a bit of the other) and reached the check-out with half-an-hour to spare.

I am always careful when I choose which check-out to go to and, oddly enough, I tend to go for one with the shortest line This is what I did today. There were only two people ahead of me, neither of whom was buying very much, but there may as well have been a hundred and two. The woman at the front of the queue was paying with a card and, of course, the card refused to go through. In the end she decided she would have to leave the supermarket and go outside to the hole-in-the-wall to draw some cash out.

I went to another till where there was only one person waiting and what do you know? They decided that they didn't like the hole in their loaf of bread after all, so I had to wait while an assistant went to fetch another one. When I finally reached the cigarette counter, I couldn't believe what I saw. There hadn't been that many people in the supermarket, but suddenly it was absolutely teeming. A school had obviously closed for the morning session because it looked as if an entire classroom was queuing up to buy cigarettes, sweets, drinks - you name it.

There was a slight gap between one group of kids clustered around one of the fridges and the queue, so I slipped in between and hoped nobody would notice, just in case they were really in the queue I was joining. This meant there were only four people in front of me, a group of teenagers who all seemed to be together. One of them was an African girl wearing a pair of beige trousers and the strangest shoes I've ever seen. They had very pointed toes and were white with pink and yellow spots and a bright blue ribbon. To say they looked peculiar with the trousers would be an understatement. I couldn't stop staring at them.

When I finally made my way out, I had to run to the bus-stop. Needless to say, I'd missed the bus I'd intended catching and had to wait for the next one. Miraculously, there was no one on it so it went straight to my destination without stopping. I made it back with four minutes to spare before my tournament started. I needn't have bothered as it happens, I went out in the first round.

What puzzles me is, why is it that when I have time to kill before my bus goes, I find empty check-outs by the dozen and no queues at the cigarette counter? I have never been able to work that one out.