Having a Trauma Really Was Traumatic.





Hey! Remember that one time I made that HUGE FUSS about how I had a new radio show, and that everyone in the world should listen, and I linked to it using every single conceivable social media tool known to man and then WE COULDN'T BROADCAST BECAUSE THE MICS DIDN'T WORK?






Yeah. I laughed too.





I suppose one tempts the fates by calling said show, Having a Trauma. 





I've been meaning to blog about having traumas for a while now, as the saying is slowly taking over my life. 





Now that I am in a living situation where I am surrounded by the same people day-in-day-out, eating and sleeping and breathing each other, in The House of Pastelle there is a certain level of morphing going on. By which I mean into each other.







Having a Trauma is mama's saying, along with refusing to make words into adverbs i.e. she will never exclaim, 'Really!' she will say 'Real!' and instead of saying "No, honestly, genuinely!" she will say, "No, honest! Genuine!"





Having a Trauma is when you slice the carrots the wrong way, or when you lose the receipt to your new boots that need taking back, or when your girlfriend leaves you for the postman with the huge satchel. It's wide-ranging and TOTALLY ADDICTIVE. I say it about a gazillion times a day and I'm not even having a trauma and exaggerating. The opposite is screaming NOT A TRAUMA! when something is REALLY irritating you but you don't want it to be. Traumatic.





And we all use it now. Jane has infiltrated the student world.





In addition, I have a habit in general of using silly voices in daily life. "Oh whatcha got there?" in an Irish lilt. "Belter," in a cockney slang, "Ciao bello/bella/belli" with Italian hand gestures even when it isn't hello or goodbye I wish to communicate. 





Sidenote: I really do adore this whole living like a student thing. I don't know why I fought it for so long. Well. I suppose I do. I hated being an older student, and thought being surround by 18 year olds would be like, a total drag dude. But when I go outside for a smoke and can smell weed and hear Spanish guitar I always remind myself. Those 18 year olds? H.O.T.





Pardon me whilst I take two-and-a-half minutes to sort myself out.





So. The radio show. It's student radio and just supposed to be a bit of a giggle. And it was- as soon as we got those pesky mics to work. I was dead complacent before we started, thinking it'd be dead easy and if bloody Chris Moyles can do it then I bet me and my gorgeously talented friend Cal of The (Not So) Fabulous Life of Cal could too. A producer? A tech guy? WE didn't THEM.





Turns out humble pie tastes just like old socks.





So here it is, the 6 minutes of highlights from Having a Trauma. We got there in the end.





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