Delete As Appropriate

There’s an article in the Sunday Times magazine today about the new rules of midlife dating. Not gonna lie, they read as the exact same shit we’ve been putting up with for the last decade. 

I love writing about dating. Aren’t humans really weird? We are, aren’t we? Like we say things we absolutely do not mean, we go in with the best of intentions, well, most of us, and then poof, in an instant, you’re ghosted/sent an unsolicited dick pic/they’re married – delete as appropriate.

Here are some stats from the article in which researchers polled 1,000 men and women age 35+.

50% of women polled have been ghosted. 85% of men polled are open to dating someone 10+ years younger vs 40% of women. 53% of respondents want dating with no commitment. 58% of respondents agree that sex is more adventurous than when they were younger. 

Oh hey, fellow cougars! Seriously, none of those stats, or others such as 36% of respondents are looking for casual sex or 40% of daters have sexted each other, surprise me. It’s been the done thing since at least 2010. So how are these the new rules?

Ghosting needs to get right in the bin. It’s utterly shitty behavior. If you can make a connection with someone, invest in chatting, texting, emailing, sliding into DM’s or whatever and then pretend it never happened, you should automatically contract herpes. Guys and girls, find your balls and dish out the goodbyes, it’s just good manners.

Dating sites are a false economy. Yeah, they give you access to loads of single and obviously married people looking to flirt, sext and once in a while, actually get together. But from the off, you’re met with an uneasy gut feeling that you’re most definitely not the only fish in the sea. It’s a digital cattle market where dick pics are traded freely and little white lies such as height, career, and er, wives seem to fall by the wayside.

How can anyone expect to create something real on that foundation? It’s not just the likes of Tinder, Bumble or Match.com either.

LinkedIn? Seriously, sending slimy messages about meeting up for a ‘mentoring sessions’ wink, wink is not acceptable in 2020. The bottom line is, dating sites are a breeding ground for everything that is wrong with dating right now. Frivolous, commitment-free, distractions from real life. Just get Pinterest and plan a trip or redecorate your bedroom. It’ll make you happier, I promise.

For us, 35+ ers, life post first (and second) marriage, with kids and careers to juggle can be pretty heavy. I fall into a few of those stats myself. Like most of those polled, I’m not looking to get married ever again, and I don’t necessarily want to live with anyone full time again either. But it doesn’t mean I should have to settle for the likes of dirty dick Dan who’s throwing pics of his junk around like news blasts from Love Island #IGotAText sigh.

Is there no such thing as a fairy tale ending for those ticking the 35-40 box? Are we destined to be slightly less wealthy Samanthas? Are we okay with that? Slide into my inbox (bork) KateJamesBlogs@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

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Rescue Me

I spent some time in hospital this week but it turns out being in the comfort of my home proved more dangerous. 

I’m typing this with a concussion. Sadly there’s zero chance of a ‘No Win No Fee’ payout because the whole Scooby Doo style escapade was entirely my own fault. It all started back in December.

The lovely people at Whirpool recalled my washing machine due to some faulty whatsit or other and my shiny new, non-french speaking replacement (don’t ask), arrived today. It’s rare I move my washing machine to brush or mop behind it because I’ve convinced myself the dark corner of my kitchen resembles the set for Arachnophobia back there.

With the new arrival imminent I decided an act of heroism was required. Move the machine out, detach the overflow and cold water feed, pull out the plug and mop the empty space. Also, potentially run like hell and set fire to the house, should a spider appear.

Steps 1 – 4 went swimmingly. No spiders either which makes me more suspicious than calm. As I finished my Mary Poppins routine, my phone rang on the other side of the room. I leaped into action, forgetting the floor was awash with Zoflora and proceeded to skid, slide and tumble to the floor, hitting my head, knee and hip off the kitchen cabinets and lastly, off the floor, before welcoming swirly patterns on the inside of my eyelids.

Oh my word, it hurt so badly and as expected with any kind of trauma, my nose exploded and bled all over my top too. My poor mum is heading for a heart attack any day now with the stress I’ve caused her this week alone. Paramedics, appendixes, kidneys oh my! And that was just Sunday! Now concussion. It’s been one hell of a week.

I’m bruised and sore. I’m also in awe of the fact I’ve managed to keep three children alive and well for as long as I have considering my personal safety and spacial awareness skills are f&cked.

Here’s to the NHS, incredible front line staff who work their asses off, still manage a smile and a bit of banter throughout grueling shifts. Here’s to the bed managers at Aintree Hospital – I was parked up next to these women on Sunday night while they tried to get me a bed and I’ve genuinely never seen a work ethic like it.

Here’s to the paramedics lining the corridors with their patients, waiting to be transferred before once again going back to fore for those in need. Including the impromptu case of my 14-year-old who collapsed watching a cannula being inserted into my wrist.

Here’s to mums. Bloody superstars.

 

 

 

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In the Deep End

Jumping in with both feet is something I’ve done most of my life, rarely giving a thought to the outcomes or end results. Who knew that doing it, literally could be so daunting. 

I did something scary this week. But let’s get a bit of context first. I spend a fair chunk of my day alone. When I’m writing I need peace and quiet to hit the keys. Even the radio gets binned off. And so the solitude is welcome. I work alone, I do the weekly food shop alone, I run alone, I go to meetings and appointments alone, I iron school uniforms late at night alone, I read the Sunday Times alone, I sleep alone. It’s nothing new. For the most part, I like it.

So, doing something new, alone shouldn’t come as much of a shock to the system. But as I plunged, feet first into the water at my local pool, without my kids splashing about, or my friends telling me to behave and get some lengths done, I felt like I’d made a terrible mistake.

I’ve been feeling self-conscious of late. Probably the insecurity with my work situation and losing a bit of faith in the job application process. I decided to move my ass, instead of sitting around eating myself into a diabetic coma. I’m absolutely loving clocking up a few miles again. each day. I’m unlikely to challenge Shelley-Ann Fraser Pryce any time soon, but the mileage is coming along.

When I walk or run, I listen to this amazing podcast from APM Reports. It’s called In The Dark and you can check it out here. I’m on Season Two now and it rocks. But along with listening to true crime podcasts and reading a lot of crime/thriller novels, comes an uneasy feeling around secluded places. Like, my run route.

To mix things up again and get the thought of being dragged through some bushes to an ugly demise in my own backyard, I decided to squish my aforementioned ass into a swim suit and go to the pool. It seems so alien to be there without the kids. I’ve literally never gone to a swimming pool on my own, set myself a challenge in terms of how many lengths I want to wrack up, and achieved it. It’s so normal, yet so out of my comfort zone. I’m also 100% less likely to be dragged through bushes at the pool. So, win win.

I paid my entry fee. Faffed around with the locker. Damn lockers. And walked out to the shallow end of the pool. My eye sight is absolute pants and without glasses I couldn’t quite read the time on the clock at the far end, 25m away. But sure enough, I pushed off and swam. Minding my own business. Clocking up some exercise. By 25 laps I felt a bit less weird. When it was around 40 minutes later, I decided I was done.

Walking home afterwards I felt like I’d reached a new level of adulting. Look at me, I went for a swim, on my own! I’ve never felt like this about the weekly shopping or when all 15 uniforms are ironed and hanging up on a Sunday night. It felt scary to walk out there on my own, especially in a swimming costume – aint no body got time for that!

I’ve decided I’m all for little victories in 2020. Doing stuff for the first time. Doing the scariest thing or most dreading thing on your to do list, first and revelling in the sense of accomplishment. I hadn’t made a single New Years resolution. But now that I’m a fully fledged adult, who goes swimming alone and everything, I’m going to add a few more ‘scary things’ to my 2020 list and make it the most terrifying year to date.

 

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Weekend Caos

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (CAOS), part three, dropped on Netflix on Friday and having binged the whole 8 episode series, here’s why it’s well better than the 90’s original. Oh, no spoilers.

Sabrina and Harvey, Zelda and Hilda, Salem, Jenny, Mr Pool – ahh all the 90’s nostalgia as this teenage witch, played by Melissa Joan Hart, was thrust onto our TV screens. And we loved her.

If you missed it – the American kids show premiered in 1996. The former Archie Comics story focuses on the teen witch as she gets to grips with her new found powers. She’s also crushing real hard on hearthrob Harvey Kinkle, while her crazy black cat, Salem is hell bent on taking over the world – mainly with clever puns and funny one liners.

It was a class, post school show that you could stick on and watch mindlessly. She wore wacky clothes and her spells constantly went wrong – thankfully her two aunties were on it. And Hilda baked.

The Sabrina reboot which launched on Netflix in 2018 turned this, relatively innocent post-school hang out show, into a supernatural horror that has audiences chomping at the bit for a follow up instalment.

Kiernan Shipka plays Sabrina, a half witch half mortal who, in pretty much every single episode, fights some kind of evil force that theatens her family and friends. Seriously, this teen is worldly, sub worldy and other worldly wise – like never before.

Gone is the ditzy, happy-go-lucky, cheesey all American girl we knew and loved. In her place, Sabrina of the 2010’s is a bad ass. Her wardrobe is to die for, Harvey got seriously hot, and then there’s Nick, Ambrose and well, Lucifer himself! If you’re at a lose end this weekend, make a start on parts one and two and get to grips with the new Spellman layout.

There’s a whole host of amazing actors involved including; Ross Lynch, Lucy Davis, Michelle Gomez, Richard Coyle, Miranda Otto, Lachlan Watson and more. The storylines are dark AF and pretty jumpy at times, but part three brought a sense of urgency as the Spellmans come to realise they’re not as fearsome as they first thought.

There’s a whole load of teenage lust and angst woven through this 8 episode series. The mad happenings of Greendale make it difficult to date stamp. References to cult music, culture, films etc make you assume modern day, yet styling, vehicles and 1950’s ice cream men, mess with your head.

Talking of styling, the costume department of this show deserve an Oscar. From scores of cheerleaders to Aunt Hilda’s mismatched tights and shoes combo’s, Nick and his brooding black shirt, jeans and leather jacket look and Harvey with his all American boy check shirts and chukka boots.

By far the stand out fashion icon of CAOS part three is Prudence. Played by Tatti Gabrielle, Prudence absolutely knocks her character development out of the park this series. The Hare Moon outfit she wares would make headlines at Coachella, her Highlands get-up is surely straight off the runway at Westwood and channelling her inner Mummy heroine ‘Evie’ with twin blades, leather pants and silk shirt – comes second only to her New Orleans lingerie look, that I couldn’t get enough of. Hats off.

Part three is different. It takes Sabrina’s story to new heights. Everyone grows up a little. There’s moments of emotion that really sets Salem amongst the pigeons. If you know your Greek Mythology, your friendy neighbourhood ice cream van driver and you’re a lover of fairground rides, you’ll love this most recent instalment.

Hell needs a make-over fellas, and I’m 100% sure Sabrina’s going to be at the forefront of it.

 

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Women On The Ball

This brand new venture, from hugely popular podcast and Youtube channel, The Blue Room, shines a much needed light on Everton Women and life as a female pro footballer. 

It’s just shy of a year since I made my debut on The Blue Room. The Everton FC dedicated podcast and Youtube channel has been discussing all things Toffee for almost a decade now. The brand was created by Sports New Journalist Dave Downie and Football Writer and Broadcaster, Matt Jones (obvs both massive Everton fans), The Blue Room produces an incredible amount of quality, engaging content across the website, Patreon podcast, Youtube and social media – on a daily basis.

the blue room podcast

Podcast episodes cover all manner of current EFC news, players, signings, managers (CARLO FANTASTICO), fixtures, results, former players, historic games, cultural connections, you name it, if it’s even remotely related to the club, we’ll gab about it. The contributers are global blues. From Australia to the US and the Wirral.

Aside from reliable, daily content, The Blue Room also offers the likes of Mailbag – this weekly show gives fans the opportunity to ask questions for the panel to discuss. It also starts a totally unique conversation on social media among fans too, sometimes with absolutely nothing to do with Everton whatsoever. We’re never going to agree on what constitutes the perfect Christmas dinner! Onions in vinegar? Seriously Jack?

As a first generation blue, I was nervous to join ‘the lads’ in discussing the game. These lads are devout. Between them, they go to every game, home and away. They can recall results, handballs, unbelievable reffing decisions, away fan clashes, international escapades, last minute screamers and last minute screaming. It’s pretty incredible.

the blue room

I began my Everton fan career age 18 when I met my husband and started going to the game with him. Sat behind the goal in the Lower Gwladys Street, my first game was against Sunderland. I almost missed the winner because I was so preoccupied with the fella sat three rows behind me who spent 80 odd minutes simply shouting ‘You’re shite’.

My lack of confidence aside, the lads invited me over to the Radio City tower to record and a new passion was born. We had a good laugh and still do. They’ve taught me so much and I’ve taken a real stand on topics I’m passionate about, such as Sam Allardyce and the brilliance of Dominic Calvert Lewin. I think I take a lot more stick than I give, but that’s subject to opinion.

The Blue Room has had a desire to cover more of the womens game for a while. I was truly blown away when Matt and Dave offered me the opportunity to host a new strand of the podcast focussing entirely on Everton Women.

women on the ball

Women On The Ball was launched in November 2019 with WOTB Episode 1 and featured an hour long chat with Everton Women captain Lucy Graham, Simone Magill and Maeva Clemaron.

The podcast gave us the chance to get to know the players, how they got started in football, what the team dynamic is like behind closed doors, who the jokers are (Simone for one!) and the challenges that lay ahead as these girls pave the way for a new generation of girls who can now visualse a career in professional football.

We had a good laugh and WOTB Episode 2 followed in December with equally good viewing/listening figures. Stories such as the one from Everton Women defender, Kika Van Es genuinely shocked us. With no provision for school age girls to pursue football, in her native Holland, Kika took extreme measures to follow her passion. Watch here to find out more. 

Everton Women are flying this season. Currently sitting 5th in the Barclays FA Womens Super League and with a FA Cup fourth round draw game against London Bees tomorrow (Sunday 26th January 2020), the girls are back from the Christmas break and ready to battle. There’s also the small matter of a historic Merseyside derby taking place at Goodison Park on 9th Feburary, but that fixture is deserving of a blog post all of its own.

Just 14 months after taking the reins, Everton Women Manager Willie Kirk has steered a successful January transfer window to futher strengthen a team that has shown ambition. In a recent interview for Women On The Ball, he said: “It’s been a great January. I think we’ve maxed out, we did exactly what we wanted to do in terms of ins and out. I don’t think it could’ve gone any better to be honest.”

With three players incoming, including a return to USM Finch Farm (Everton’s training facility) for Goal Keeper Sandy McIver and Midfielder Izzy Christiansen, plus a transfer backed by former blue, Tim Cahill, in Hayley Raso from Portland Thorns via the Gold Coast, the second half of the season is looking bright and blue for Everton Women.

There’s loads more to come in the weeks ahead. To find out more about The Blue Room and to catch up on WOTB episodes so far, head to the official Youtube channel here, and get subscribing to the podcast, here.

 

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Malted Milk

I dunked my malted milk a little bit too long and en route to my mouth, it landed with a splat, in my pen pot. Saturday mornings in bed with my laptop – summed up in one FFS moment. 

I woke up with an urgency to write today. Which is awesome. I made a coffee, grabbed a haul of inspirational prompt books which sit on my bookshelf and dived back into bed with a stack of biscuits and a determination to get 500 words down on the page.

What started out as a desire to create, it slowly turning into a procrastination exercise to avoid having to clean my pen pot. All my good pens, the ones I keep from the kids, the hotel pens my boyfriend has swiped from hotels when he travels with work, and all the ace freebies, now coated in a thick layer of malted milk and coffee.

Is it considered old school to still write with pen and paper? To put a blog post live I obviously have to transcribe my writing into digital format, but it feels more personal and real to write a first draft on paper.

I got a tonne of photos printed out yesterday too. Is that old school now? I’ve reverted back to my teens and stuck a load up on my wall above my desk. Pics of the kids, the dog, the boyfriend, snaps I took in Paris a few weeks back. The woman in the photo shop explained that people rarely print now unless its to go straight in a frame on the wall. Or in a cute keyring, snow globe or Valentine’s Day gift (yep, it’s almost that time again), but more on that later.

Playing board games, that’s old school. ALthough I heard yesterday there’s now a 10 minute game of Monopoly available. Probably because no one can afford to buy anything and they’ve swapped out Jail for moving back in with you folks.

Speaking of board games, I took the kids to see Jumanji: The Next Level, at the flicks last weekend. Since watching the original and first instalment reboot featuring Karen Gillan, The Rock and Jack Black, they’re been obsessed. I found myself saying “You know it started out as a board game, right?” quite a lot, as the digital SNES looking game in the film, brought the story up to the modern day expectations. Still, at age 5, 8 and 14 it was a refreshing change to find a film we all wanted to see.

SPOILER ALERT: Danny Devito and Danny Glover are in the latest film and make it a must see if you’ve followed the franchise.

Back to the old school. Tell you what else I absolutely love doing, hold on to your hats here people, it’s about to get raucous. I love doing Sudoku in the free Metro paper you get on the buses and trains. My commute into town seems to go much quicker while I’m wracking my brain trying to get the squares lined up with the correct digit. It’s probably the only time of the day I’m not talking, or listening to music. I’m fully engaged, kicking myself for not trying harder in GCSE Maths and wondering if the woman next to me is silently screaming out ‘YOU’VE F*CKED UP THE TOP RIGHT HAND BOX, YOU TIT.

I dabbled a bit in Brain Training on the DS when I could be arsed remembering to charge it. But providing I’ve got a pen, which come on, who hasn’t got a random biro in their bag? I’m good to go, even if it needs a wipe clean first. Malted Milk, FFS.

 

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Light My Fire

How To be Single, Because Exposure Isn’t So Delicious and 25 Things I Love About Liverpool – why everyone should have a bash at public speaking. 

Ignite Liverpool celebrates its 10th anniversary this year. If you’re not familiar with this fantastic social gathering and speaking forum, you’re seriously missing out.

In its own words: “Ignite showcases Liverpool’s movers and shakers, creators, thinkers, tinkers, innovators and doers, makers and dreamers in a fast paced format designed to inspire. Do you want to be inspired? Do you need to get your creative juices flowing? Then Ignite Liverpool is just for you.”

I have to thank my friend and former Liverpool City Councillor, James Noakes for introducing me to Ignite, on what I remember to be a cold, Monday night in the city. Heading upstairs at Leaf on Bold Street to a bright, bustling room filled with inspiring people with something to say. Others eager to listen. I learned all kinds that first night. The dentistry talk was genuinely fascinating while a bloke from West Derby documented his global journey. It was dead good.

Anyone can get up and speak at Ignite. All you have to do is prepare a five minute presentation and 20 power point slides to accompany your talk. Simples.

I knew from the off I wanted to have a crack at it. I was absolutely bricking it and my delivery wasn’t great. But I really enjoyed it. My first talk was about exposure as currency. Having done a tiny bit of digging into freelance life, I noticed a worrying trend of freelancers in the media industry chasing payments for work – FOR YEARS!

Not content with pretty much blowing my first attempt, I had another go. I talked about How To Be Single, which at the time was an idea for a column I’d had at work. It flowed so much better because I ditched the script and talked about what I’m most passionate about. Communication. Oh the irony!

Lastly, I had a five minute ramble about the incredible people of Liverpool. A city I’ve called my adopted home for many years. The humour, the characters the inspirational women blazing a trail for the next generation.

I’m still not great at public speaking. My nerves are always shot, but once I get up there, it’s such a great experience. The Ignite Liverpool crowd is always a welcoming one that wants to see you do well.

Today I received an email about the 10th anniversary edition of Ignite Liverpool on 4th March 2020 at Leaf on Bold Street from 6pm. I’m absolute chuffed to bits to say I’ve been asked to speak at the event and already my mind has gone into overdrive as to what to choose as my subject.

Sending my huge thanks to Neil, Adrian, Dan and the team at Ignite Liverpool for the invitation and the support in helping me to combat the nerves – which have never gone away! Here’s to another 10 years of inspiring, insightful and engaging talks and presentations on the weird and wonderful.

Find out more about Ignite Liverpool and get involved by heading to www.igniteliverpool.com and follow @igniteliv on Twitter for event updates.

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I Come From a Land Down Under

Half a billion animals have perished in the Australian Wildfires, a figure which is set to rise in the coming weeks. 

I was born in a place called Cronulla, it’s south of Sydney, Australia. It’s not currently ablaze, but the effects of the worst wildfires seen in decades are truly being felt right across the continent.

According to the latest report on CNN (2nd January 2020) more than 900 homes have been destroyed in New South Wales alone and 17 people have died nationwide. The effect on wildlife is perhaps the most shocking. Wait for this. Half a billion animals have perished since the fire season began in September, and the number is set to rise. The native Koala population has been hardest hit, a third of the population, wiped out.

I’ve often heard people say they would love to emigrate to Australia but they’re too scared of snakes and spiders out to kill them. Who’d have thought it would be wildfires that pose the biggest threat. Air quality is dangerously low and so areas unaffected by the fire line are still in trouble.

The dry weather has made the situation worse as firefighters and volunteers work around the clock to try and stop the fires spreading. Despite international help being flown in, plus support from the Australian armed forces, the summer is just beginning and there is literally no end in sight.

It’s been a long time since I was ‘back home’. Sydney 2000 was my last jaunt as a ballsy 17 year old. I adore my home city and surrounding state and to see it ravaged in such a devastating way is sad and frightening.

My heart goes out to all those who have lost loved ones, their homes, businesses, possessions, everything in the fires. My thoughts and thanks to all those risking life and limb to stop any further damage and loss.

Climate change has played a real part in the fire season starting earlier and lasting longer. We all have to take action now, because it’s already too late for some.

 

 

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Ghostbusters is the best film ever made. Fight Me

From the kick ass soundtrack to the budding romance between Peter and Dana and the epic one-liners that have spanned generations. Oh and Egon, science and sex appeal. 

So this evening I went to see Ghostbusters in Concert at Liverpool’s Philharmonic Hall. It’s a stunning venue and one fitting to show what I consider to be, the coolest film ever made. Closely followed by Ghostbusters II.

It’s been 35 years. Released in movie theatres (did you do the voice over guy in your head then?) back in 1984, I was just 2 years old and missed the thrill of queuing up to be the first to watch the amazing special effects and a cast of established and up and coming, exciting actors.

I think I first saw the film around 1988 and I adored it straight off. Well, once I’d gotten over crapping my pants at the ghost in the library! I instantly fell in love with Bill Murray as Dr Peter Venkman, in the same way my now 14 year old adores Egon – the late, great Harold Ramis. I love Louis and Ray’s one-liners and Winston not taking any shit, in fact, Janine not taking any shit and Peck being dick – Back off man, I’m a Scientist.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m a massive fan. My friend bought me tickets to see Ghostbusters in Concert, with the soundtrack played by a live orchestra – as a birthday gift. I’ve been massively giddy about it for weeks and it’s rounded off my Christmas celebrations perfectly. I took my teen daughter because she’s word perfect on quoting the film and the aforementioned Harold Ramis love.

It was epic. Seriously, if you get chance to see it, go. With Ecto 1 bells on.

Dan Ackroyd delivered an opening speech, the brand new Jason Reitman Ghostbusters Afterlife 2020 trailer played and original director, Ivan Reitman revealed how the end of the film was rewritten following an outstanding audition from a relatively unknown Sigourney Weaver.

The performance was absolutely outstanding. Goosebump-inducing drama that you could feel in your chest as the film played behind the orchestra. The light-hearted strings and flutes as Peter and Dana meet, the stirring base and brass as the action reaches fever pitch on the Central Park apartment block roof and everything in between. The orchestra gave the film a whole new dimension, even after I’ve watched it 50 times or more.

I’m limbering up to fight you, because Ghostbusters is actually the greatest film ever made. Here’s why….

It’s about friendship. The dynamic between Ray, Winston, Egon and Peter is comedy gold. Each plays their own part and they bounce off each other perfectly. They stick together. Peter manipulates Ray – who will get a third mortgage for a house with a fireman’s pole (legend), Egon takes a load of shit off Peter too and Winston is actually really forthright – shouting at the Mayor, the lot.

The script. The one liners alone have stuck with generations who’ve enjoyed this family, action, rom com film. ‘Listen, you smell that?’ ‘Well my Uncle thought he was St Jerome’ ‘Okay, who brought the dog?’, three of my particular favourites. See more here.

Janine. Janine is a phenomenal character. Brimming with attitude, an 80’s wardrobe to die for and without a shadow of a doubt, the influence behind many a Spectacle Wearer of the Year Award winners look. I’d have like to have seen a romance blossom between her and Egon as opposed to necking on the sofa with Louis in the sequel. We got one!

Peter & Dana. From the moment Peter claps eyes on Dana and proceeds to jump over the office gate to greet her, you just know he’s going to pursue her. She fends him off, he turns up to her orchestra rehearsal, they agree a date and she goes and turns into a woman possessed, like, for real. They’re so cute together and the story progressing in the second film is the icing on the Manhattan cake.

The soundtrack. My teen and I once watched a misheard lyrics vid on Youtube and one of the absolute corkers was ‘who you gonna call…..? THOSE BASTARDS and since then it’s actually ruined that catchy Ray Parker Junior track. It’s still a belter though, and hearing it performed live by an orchestra is even better.

The “special effects”. Okay they’re crap. But by early 1980’s standard they’re all kinds of amazing. The streams, Slimer, the ghosts, the shit-scary dog thing that chases Louis through Central Park, the list goes on. They’re crap, but we love them.

Egon Spengler gets his own entry into why I adore this flick. He’s socially awkward, intelligent, quiet yet fearless(ish). When he smiles or is shown any affection (from Janine or Dana) his face lights up and frankly, some days that’s all you need in life. Team Spengler.

The Ghosbusters save New York City. In a sea of thousands of flicks set in the city that never sleeps, this one goes the extra mile and brings in a 20 storey high Stay Puft Marshmallow Man – and he’s pissed. These guys save the world and they do it in manky boiler suits while driving a former funeral hearse. Legends.

I could easily continue, for hours. A thesis if you will. It’s an incredible film, for hundreds of reasons and for me it will always be special. Go on, drop me a line with your thoughts katereillyjames@gmail.com. I’ll consider any other 80’s film as a worthy challenger.

 

 

 

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The Twilight

Is anyone else waiting, pen poised to fill in day one of a fresh, new 2020 diary? Can we just get on with it now?

December has been a haze of job applications, trying not to spend unnecessarily and walking my dog. I’ve spoken to more recruiters than family over the festive period – to the point where I wondered if I should’ve included them on my Christmas card list? Oh, that’s another thing, I reckon Christmas cards will be a gonner in 2020. We’re all saving the planet with little steps and I reckon the festive, glittery tokens will be next on the cull list.

We’re in the twilight zone at the moment. That annoying time between Christmas and New Year where some people are back at work, some are still smashing through the selection boxes and daytime films, some never had a break at all. If you’e a job seeker during this time, it’s frustrating as hell.

When you’ve filed a brilliant application that you’re sure will picked up – the twilight blows it apart because everything takes so damn long at this time of year. I suppose it doesn’t help if you’re impatient.

It was also surprising to see a lot of job adverts being posted on Christmas day. Stuffed with turkey, hating on you relatives, dreading the thought of going back to that job you hate? Get on your new shiny iphone and apply for a job before the Gavin & Stacey Christmas special!

I have applied for around 178 jobs in December. Ranging from Portsmouth to Stranraer and everywhere in between. Reporter, Journalist, Media Manager, Social Media Manager, Copy Writer, Editor, Sub Editor, Night Editor, Communications Manager, you name it.

I’m hopeful that 1st January 2020 brings a flurry of interest and I can begin the next decade in a challenging yet rewarding role. Realistically, who is chasing applicants on New Years Day? Back to the selection boxes it is then!

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