Recently I've been getting hip to the concept of ironing my own clothes. I felt sort of grown up as I took out the iron and got ready to sort out a few of my shirts and pants. "No more creases on these bad boys," I implied to no one with my proud body language. For many years I've had a rational fear of incredibly hot metal. This fear was re-enforced as a kid by the fact that one of my best mates had a nasty scar on his left hand where his skin had been accidently melted as a toddler by a falling iron.
Putting these paranoid* fears to one side I decided to start with my nice brown shirt. "It is, after all, my favourite shirt," I chuckled to myself as it shrivveled up under the iron while making a horrible smell. Boll#cks! You try and do a good thing and that happens. Totally ruined my favourite shirt in about 0.5 seconds flat. No warning nothing.
I was so annoyed with myself. Why didn't I check to see if it could be ironed? Damn damn damn.
Hours later I'm getting a phone call off my flatmate; "How are we? I think I left the iron on today mate," he said. I told him it was me. I remembered as soon as he mentioned it. Proof right there that I'm a f#cking idiot.
The whole episode has made me more determined though. I'm going to conquer the world of ironing without predictably burning myself. I'm going to get good at it and do it often. There's ambition for you**.
Here's some video of Stewart Lee, I ordered a copy of his new DVD today. This is a promo clip of it. I think he's my favourite comedian at the moment.
* I recently listened to a talk about evolutionary progression where the concept behind the word paranoid was dissected. We are only here because our bodies come from a long line of constant threat detection and anticipation machines. If our ancestors hadn't been paranoid we wouldn't be here. Be proud of your paranoia!
** There's a debate in literary circles which centres around the use of sarcasm in the written word. Most people claim you can't do it unless you're a very acomplished writer. I claim I can do it without being an acomplished writer. How do you do it? You put a little asterix next to the sentence which is supposed to be sarcastic and then tell the reader your intentions.