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At the age of ten life seems simple, it's all about running jumping and climbing trees. By eighteen you have discovered the opposite sex, alcohol and nightclubs. By twenty five you are your own person, confident and full of life. Suddenly you hit thirty. You find yourself questioning your choices from the years that have past, feeling slightly left on the shelf, wondering where your life is heading, juggling family and friends and faced with ever aging parents. You are not alone, welcome to 30 years and countinga sideways look at life in your thirties.

Power to the ladies with the help of fairy cakes

Regular readers of my blog no doubt know that I love to cook. Since I am not working at the moment it usually means that I am responsible for doing most the cooking throughout the week. It makes sense really since Maz is busy at work and I like the fact that I have diner ready for her when she gets back. For us it is just a practical solution to our circumstances but recently a bit of debate has arisen here in the UK as to whether cooking is a woman’s job and more to the point it should be considered a feminist activity.

Ha Ha you're ginger. No wait a second you're hot. Hot and ginger. No way.

Being ginger or at least a redhead here in the UK often means that you are mocked. Most of us went to school with a redhead or at least know of one and no doubt they have suffered the endless torment of being called carrot top or another similar insult at some point in their life. It has been said that insulting redheads is the last form of socially accepted racism in this country. Well I disagree with the idea that redheads are a figure of fun. I happen to think that redheads are kind of hot and after reading this maybe you will too.

Becoming a grumpy old man

Every second Tuesday I have to take a walk into the local town to sign on at the job centre. It is about a 6 mile round trip and while there is a bus I refuse to pay the £5 or so fare. Besides I could do with the exercise. Since Tom has recent joined the unemployment scrapheap he has taken to joining me on this little trek. It is great to have some company and why I would like to say that we talk about breasts and football on our journey in reality we sound more like two grumpy old men.

It is the end of the world as we know it. Maybe not.

This weekend Maz went away with her work which meant that I got to spend three days on my own. Not a problem and in truth it was nice to get a little me time. However as luck would have it Saturday was marked by some to be the end of the world. Typical. Which meant had the four horsemen of the apocalypse rode into town they would have found me sitting in my pants, drinking a Guinness and playing Grand theft auto on the Xbox 360. Could be worse I guess.

Building a fence and aging parents

There has been a lack of posts over the last week hasn’t there? Sorry about that folks but I have been kind of busy. I must admit that in part it is due to the fact I have been playing a lot of Brink on the Xbox but I have also been down the job centre with Tom, mowed Maz's garden and played host to a rather drunk Julie, Arthur and little Lacie over the weekend (obviously  Lacie wasn’t drunk). The bulk of my week however has been taken up with working with my Dad to build a new fence.

A weekend of weddings and birthdays

So there has been no blog posts for a few days now. Were you worried about me? I’m going with probably not. For the few of you who do give a shit fear not I haven’t fallen off the earth but have instead just been a bit busy. To be honest it has been a bit of a busy year. It seems that just about every weekend so far we have had some event or do to go to. Don’t get me wrong however, it is nice to get out and see people even if it does mean I had to miss the F1 this week.

My vote counts but what for?

So today in the UK we go to the polls as we get to vote on local elections and on whether we should adopt the alternative voting system. I always vote in the big national elections but rarely in the local ones. This year however I thought I would make the effort. Maybe it is because I am unemployed and so I have more time on my hands than usual to take a good look around the area where I live or maybe it is just because I am getting older and have more of an opinion about my surroundings. Either way I figured that before I headed off to put my tick in the box I would look to see what my local parties had in mind for the next few years. A task that proved easier said then done.

Maz and I (try to) cook deep fried Bounty bars

If there is one thing that I love to do then it is cooking. Cooking and eating new foods is one of life’s little pleasures and I really don’t get people who turn their nose up at trying new stuff. Well based on this idea Maz and I decided a few weeks back to have a crack at cooking deep fried Bounty bars. Although deep fried Mars bars are more the norm we decided to put our faith in Nigella Lawson and give her version served with fresh pineapple a go. Things however did not go exactly to plan.

Weddings, weddings, weddings. A man's view of the big day.

About eight o’clock  this morning I woke up suddenly from a dream and still half asleep I had a wonderful idea for a blog post. However I then promptly rolled back over and slept for another hour or so before waking up again and having no clue what that great idea was. It has been bugging me ever since. You know what it is like when there is a memory at the edge of your brain but you just can’t recall it? It is a bit like when you put something in a safe place so it won’t get lost and then can’t remember where that safe place was. I am sure it will come back to me at some point but for now I guess I am just going to have to write about something else and so here is a post about weddings instead.

Guest blog posts: A woman's view on turning thirty

A house with a garden, a car less than 5 years old, a professional job not in a pub, long term boyfriend, a five speed ‘blender’, a 32 inch HD TV with blue ray DVD and a subscription to Love Film, a king size bed with a goose down duvet, a proper piece of art rather than a poster, a cat, two holidays abroad a year (one city break, one sunshine break, usually to someone’s wedding). Sex once a week if you are lucky, more like once a month if you are realistic. Beauty salons and getting your hair dyed every six weeks to combat the growing grey. Settled into the shit together, path decided, one long walk into middle age with a spreading tummy and a growing habit for expensive white wine and a takeaway every Friday night. On the way to adding to the having a baby at 29 statistic.

Bring on the conspiracy theories

Although this blog is pretty much about me and stuff that happens in my life sometimes world events are of such historical importance that it is only right that I should express a point of view about them. Take for example the recent royal wedding this last weekend (see here and here for posts about it). Well not to be out done the USA has also grabbed the headlines over the last few days with the shock news that they have not only found Osama bin Laden but killed him and buried him at sea already. The news came completely out of the blue and just like the Transformers toys of 80’s it has left many people wondering if there is “more than meets the eye” about the whole thing.

Royal weddings, bank holidays and hot tubs

So on Friday the 29th of April 2011 the world was gathered around the television to watch as Prince William got married to his university sweetheart Miss Catherine Middleton (see this post if you somehow missed it). To celebrate the UK got itself an extra day off work and Maz and I shot up to join my old university friends Jacqui and Fran in their new hot tub for the weekend. This was of course after we popped out to join Tom in a few drinks to celebrate him escaping from his most hated job on Thursday. However now that the dust has settled what have we actually learned from the whole experience that has been forced down our throats for the last few months?

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