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Rhubarb, Rhubarb

Rhubarb Rhubarb

Just a few weeks ago I attended my first music festival. It was really a great way to start the New Year; hanging out with good friends, catching up with old ones, sweating more than I have in a whole year at the gym and dancing in the misty rain after the sun went down. Although there were perhaps a few things that are oh-so-2009 lurking around, I was able to really let my hair down (I put it up again once things got sweaty) and have a genuinely great time before heading back to work this week.

People are funny though, aren’t they? It’s not every day that you are grouped into a park with hundreds (perhaps thousands? I have terrible estimation skills) of other human beings and given the opportunity to observe. While joking around, piggy-back rides, posing for ridiculous photos and rolling in the grass (oh, and watching the bands) grasped priority for the day, I can’t say people-watching didn’t get a look in for me. When amongst the sweat-infused, mind-numbingly loud raucousness of various mosh pits over the two-day festival, I noticed two things that made me laugh: the ways in which people try to cover the fact they don’t know the lyrics and the shameless opportunities taken by the male species to grope. The latter is a given really, so do let me elaborate briefly on the former.

If I said I am not guilty of this I would be lying. The old “Rhubarb Rhubarb” trick worked a treat for me back in my school choir days, but I’m not so sure it served me very well in this instance. I’m lucky though, I have long hair so I can just hide my face a bit (in the style of ‘dancing’) and only pop up on a long “aaa” or ‘ayyyy’. Yes, yes, I know you’ve done it. But we all know you’re not a true fan unless you know every single word, right? Boy did I get some funny looks from the Indie kids. All I could do was laugh, especially because I could spot fellow Rhubarb-ers from a mile off. The ones that just kept their mouth shut (or deceptively busy with food or drink) could probably teach us a lesson, but where’s the fun in that?

 Happy Rhubarb-er spotting at your next festival.

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Well here goes nothing…

When starting a blog, is it really obligatory to introduce yourself? I think not. Instead I’d like to acquaint you with my reason for becoming a ‘blogger’. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves though; I am uncertain as to whether this whole blogging caper will be the outlet I have craved to express my idiosyncratic, inconsistent, and probably sometimes offensive views on life or if this whole burst of writing energy is simply a passing phase. I guess you’ll have to stay tuned to find out, but knowing me (and I think I do that better than anyone else) I’ve got my money on the latter. So I tread carefully when introducing myself to you as a ‘blogger’ just yet. But here goes:

There has got to be literally thousands of blogs out there and I feel excruciatingly overwhelmed trying to read all of them, so I figured I would have a go at writing what I would enjoy reading. I can’t sit here and tell you what my blog is going to be about (because I really have absolutely no idea, to be honest); all I can tell you is that I find myself pondering life’s big (and sometimes heartbreakingly tiny) mysteries… all the time. I guess this blog could be a way for me to ponder ‘out loud’ and hopefully let someone, anyone, know that they’re not alone if they’re wondering/considering/feeling the same thing. I have included the word ‘crooked’ in the blog’s title not because it will be anything shady, illegal or corrupt, but because it will probably be a bit wonky from time to time, a bit off-kilter.

While I expect some of my posts will be about fashion, some about health, some about beauty (okay and probably more than some about traffic), I can only envisage that this blog may become as mundane as it is interesting, and as hatred-worthy as it is likeable.  So all I can say to you is this: you’re not alone. That is the point of this blog in a nutshell (“Help! I’m in a nutshell!” – Oh yeah, I also come out with movie quotes at quite random intervals). So, do check in from time to time and if you like what you read, please let me know. If you don’t like what you read … well that could make for interesting conversation at least.

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