Saturday 18 August 2012

The Rules of Small Town Socialising


Since being back in Tenby I have noticed that the behaviour of locals in a social environment are quite peculiar. I have compiled a list of rules, created by me through observation of the folk of this beautiful little town.

THE RULES

1) You absolute must have an opinion on everyone regardless of whether you've ever met them or not. Small Towns without opinions become barren and tumbleweed starts to...well, tumble.

2) You must drink excessively at least three times a week in order to not disappear off the social ladder. In fact, you must actively encourage alcoholism. The Small Town relies on such revelry to sustain it's ecosystem.

3) You must work your little butt off all week long doing hideous shifts for below minimum wage only to shit it up the wall at an overpriced pub, talking the same conversations on rotation to the same selection of locals.

4) You must be hideously two-faced in order to successfully intergrate.

5) Actually, that's not fair. You could be genuinely nice to everyone. But you must accept that people will choose to dislike you anyway and will probably start rumours about you.

6) Settle with the fact that tourists and customers will talk to you like you are thick as shit. Don't you dare mention your degree/ promotion/ trade. That will make you look stuck up.

7) Face facts: If you are so much as seen breathing near a member of the opposite sex people will assume you are shagging.

8) Grit your teeth and smile whilst handing over £8 to get into what can only be described as a urine-odoured pit disguised as a club. Then joyfully hand over £5 for a measly drink in a grimy plastic cup. Dance to 90's music blasting from a shoddy CD player and cheer when the 'DJ' announces that "Stereophonics' 1000 Trees is next!!" .

9) Observe jumped up boys/ 'lads' mindlessly scrap with anything that moves, throwing punches like a drunk baby with autism. The next day you must claim that you were there/involved/saw someone's jaw snap.

10) Let people who buy their entire wardrobe from New Look snigger at you in your flip flops, tee and shorts. You are a fashion disaster and they are pioneering fashionista's, remember?

11) Become pals with someone in the toilet queue only to overhear them later saying that your hair is shit and that you are a horrific person. You are a horrific person, your hair is shit, but you did hear them do a wet fart through the cubicle door so it's all cool.

12) Men are worth more than your dignity. Shamelessly drape yourself over at least four different men and stare daggers at anyone who so much as catches eye contact with them.

13) Don't even think about talking to anyone who has snogged/shagged/texted/waved at anyone you know. In fact to save confusion just stay mute for the night. These places are so incestual it's the best way to avoid a  vodka diet coke on your chops.

14) Do not be fooled into thinking that Small Town men are less bitchy than the girls. Boy can these guys gossip and stir the pot. Think Queens with homophobia.

15) If you do manage to find someone you are allowed to fancy, come to terms with the fact that complete strangers have the right to ask you if you are a couple/shagging/what it's like. In order for the Small Town cycle to continue it is imperative that everyone knows your business.

Now, reading this you may think I hate living here. But, despite all these ridiculously laughable unspoken rules and habits, I love it here. I love knowing everyone when I walk in a pub. I love wearing flip flops out. I love finding out which school mate is pregnant. I love seeing the same people every time I'm out. There's something communal about it, it feels safe. If you get paraletic and collapse into the gutter, someone will find you and put you in a cab home, or know your mums number to call her.

Ciao for now

Jojo xxx

Friday 17 August 2012

Water - IT'S COOL



I seem to have lost steam for my career, sending e-mails or being productive and found phenomenal amounts of steam for nature. Or water in particular.

I've always felt very close to the water, but this Summer it has become a lot clearer. I am magnetised to it. I get up in the morning, sometimes go for a sea-swim before work, go to work (on a boat) come back to land, go for a swim to clean off, go home, have dinner, then beg my pal to take me surfing. And I just don't get bored of it. I don't seem to feel the cold of the water either. Maybe spending all this time around mackerel (I work on a mackerel fishing boat) is slowly turning me into a creature of the sea.

It's taking up a lot of what I think about now. Water is just so clever. It can be a liquid, a solid, a gas. And waves, they look so solid and yet they aren't solid at all. They are an accumulation of wind energy passing through all the atoms of the sea forming sails and then pushing and breaking. It's just so cool.

I think my friends are getting bored of my insatiable appetite to be flailing around in salt water filled with critters, dirt and, lets face it, my own urine (trapped inside a wetsuit that has a gaping hole in the ass, hot).

Maybe its because it's so primal.You can't exist inside a flower, or underground. But in the sea you can exist inside a natural force.

I'm making it sound so romantic but the reality is that within about twelve seconds I am having a continuous battle with snot. It seems to just be everywhere. On my nose-ring, my cheeks, my eyebrows. Oh, god forbid anyone should see me after I leave the water. I quite often find myself crusting off dried snot from my eyebrows in the car journey home.

Another interesting fact about being in the water is how weeing in it is so fun?! It's really very enjoyable. If someone told me that I had to pee on myself on land I would chortle and flip my hair in disgust (unless drunk). But in the sea the feeling of hot urine gathering around my knees in my wetsuit is just glorious, GLORIOUS.

Also all this water activity is doing no good for the state of my already hideously reptilian-looking feet. They are now not only weird and spindly but also carry about an inch of dry skin and manage to come out of the shower dirty. How is that possible?

I suppose most people will be complaining about all the rain and wind we've been having this Summer. And I'll admit, a bit of sunshine wouldn't go amiss. But hey, when you're in the water you are already wet. You have already ruined your hair. You are already showing obvious symptoms of a cold. So when you start sneezing you will be accustomed to mucus, in fact, it will seem like a holiday as it will be on only your nose area and probably not in your ears.


I have had a really lovely Summer. A really  lovely one. I love my job, I am always in the sea. I work seven days a week so don't spend a lot. I go for drinks in pubs, on sand, in houses and on boats. I am not fat. And to top all that off I've met some lovely new people. Hell life's good.

Although I would like to be out of my overdraft, and to have a working vehicle (the radiators gone on the van). I'd also like to have the ability to pick new friends who are staying on this continent. But you can't have it all.


But it's not just me being jolly, oh no, even the holiday makers seem to see the positives to this dreary August. Picnics on the beach in anoraks. Soggy fish and chips on the harbour. Fishing in howling wind and rain. Sitting in the caravan watching the Olympics surrounded by damp.

So here's to probably the worst Summer on record but to the undeniable determination of us Brits to make the bloody most of it.

HUZZAHHHHHHH


That's all for now,

Jojo xxx