Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, baby give it up, give it up, baby give it up

For those who don’t know Lent began at lunch time yesterday and lasts for the next 40 days. Now, I’ve seen quite a few people saying they are giving things up… laptops, coffee, any drink apart from water, washing, men, nandos, buying new clothes, twitter, procrastination, even someone giving up spaghetti (err ok) and the obvious ones like chocolate and alcohol.

I do wonder how many people realise that Lent is meant to be a fast, not a selective ‘give’ up. A time to not indulge like we all do so much of now, a time to err, get closer to god and await the resurrection – at Easter – which is why we celebrate it (now with chocolate eggs, don’t ask me why, but surely shops putting them out during lent is getting the whole thing completely wrong).

Anyway, you’ve got it – yes, I was a good Methodist. You can pet me now.

(Possibly the reason why I got married so young, but we wont go into that)

Let me get one thing straight, despite a few remaining religious views hanging around; I am not giving anything up for lent. In fact the whole giving things up frustrates me beyond belief. Why not the rest of the time? Why not just accept your vices and then compensate for them in other ways?

However, there are a few things that I wish other people would give up.

Feel free to add your own and ill see if I can get them banned next time I go to church (ahem).

Tall people standing in front of short people at gigs. No need. There should be a height tier system meaning I always end up on the front row.

Dawdling. Or stopping dead in the street. A very common occurrence in Edinburgh with all the tourists. I carry a brolly for this reason. Stab.

Posh people giving birth. We have enough yah’s here already thank you very much.

Hawking. The worst habit the Boy has. Also see ‘spitting on the heart on the royal mile’ (supposedly for good luck, but i’m afraid to say most of them are Hibbies spitting on their rivals Hearts).

Complaining about my weight. I am 4 foot 11 and have a BMI of 23. This puts me firmly in the middle-top of being OK. I am not skinny. I am normal. I even have love handles, a wee pot and a bit of cellulite. I am not a mystical being just because I look tiny.

ID-ing me. Ok, it was flattering all the way through my twenties, but now it has officially become a chore as it adds time to the process of buying booze and it getting down my throat.

Asking me when a) i’m getting married b) settling down or c) having children like my sister. Apart from moments of baby rage madness, not anytime soon. Thanks.

Trying to get me to move through life a little quicker or do things with any urgency. I like being a sloth and seriously, the world won’t end if I don’t make that phone call right now. Or even this week. Or month. Or year. Look I know from experience, things can be put off indefinitely.

Whining on twitter or facebook that they are lonely or miss their man. How-sad-are-you syndrome kicks in and I have no sympathy. I’m not even slightly sorry about this one.

And finally…

The people that need to give up: Peter Andre, Tess Daly (I don’t care what her husband has done, I still cant stand her), Mitch Winehouse, the new Sugarbabes, The Spice Girls – especially Geri, and all of Girls Aloud apart from Nicola.

Feel free to add your suggestions…

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