Just the way you are?

Have you ever had the joy of someone telling you that they love you "just the way you are", that you are beautiful "just the way you are?"
Have you then looked at that person and wondered if they have lost the plot? Have you looked in the mirror and wished that you also loved yourself "just the way you are"?

I have had those things said to me, by family members, ex partners and well meaning friends, and although, yes, it is very nice to hear those words which at times can be appreciated, I am afraid I will never be found saying the same sentiments back to anyone that I have in my life who I love (be it family, friends or spouse). It isn't because I don't love them "just the way they are", as I sincerely hope it is obvious that I do, with all my heart and soul. No matter what shape or size my loved ones are, no matter what hairstyle, look, or tattoo they are sporting, they will always carry a piece of my heart with them, regardless of outside appearances.
 The honest reason I wouldn't say those words to them is because they may not be happy with themselves "just the way they are". As a result they may have lost or reduced that sparkle that  makes me love them all the more. I would rather help them get that sparkle back, in which ever way I can, than fob them off with something that isn't really going to assist them.

We have all made the mistake, especially when we have been in a committed marriage or relationship, or if we have become stuck in a rut, or if the depression has decided it wants to join us for a tango. You look in the mirror, and you think to yourself  "This isn't me anymore, I'm not happy with what I see right now." And although, yes, hearing those words will initially make you feel better, lets be frank, it's only a quick fix. Give it a day or two, a crap day at work, an argument, whatever, and yet again you are looking at your reflection and feeling sad.

So, with this in mind, what would  I do with that person who is in that boat, hell what did I do to myself when I was in that boat? My suggestion is writing down the things that make you happy, that make you feel better about yourself, then putting those things into action. If you were happier being a few dress sizes smaller, then work on becoming a few dress sizes smaller again. If you like wearing a certain item of clothing, but only save it for special occasions, well guess what? I am going to tell you to get it out of that wardrobe right now and put it on, right now! So what if you are wearing your vintage dress (or whatever item it is) to grab milk from the store. If it makes you feel a million dollars, then that item should be the thing you wear the most. If you like wearing make up, painting your nails, doing mad things with your hair, getting your eyebrows done, wearing false lashes, then do it, even if it is to do the housework. If you like dancing to a certain song or playlist, play it loud my friends! If something makes you smile, and makes your world a happier place, then embrace it and make it a part of your everyday life.
I made the decision to get fit and healthy again, plus I wanted to be back in my slimmer clothes for my Birthday. I dusted off my neglected gym membership and gave it some welly. Even on the days I really didn't want to go I made myself, because I had a picture in my mind of who I wanted to be, plus I had a picture of who I had become, the person I didn't want to stay being. I also did a two week stint of slim-fast to kick start matters, and I made healthier food choices, e.g no more bread, very occasional take-away treats rather every couple of week take-away treats. I am now back into my size 10's and I feel a lot happier. I still eat and enjoy food, but I've also brought my old 'gym bunny' persona back to life. And now that part of me is back, I realize how much I have missed that fitness loving part of myself. I now hand on heart enjoy going, and I am starting to make a little small talk with some of the other regulars. This has also, as a result encouraged me to look after other aspects of myself, and I feel more comfortable with the woman who looks back at me in the mirror these days.

It may seem crazy but all these little things, no matter how minor, can make us who we are. They make us stand out, they make us feel good about ourselves. They give us a certain amount of individuality. The sad thing is, with day to day life, we can lose those things along the way, the things that make us smile. We then wind up looking in the mirror and wondering who the heck that person is staring back at us. I think as individuals, men and women, we need to remember those things that make us who we are. If it's doing 15k runs, or dancing badly to that cheesy Disney song with the kids. If it's singing at karaoke at the local pub, or mixing cocktails with your friends. If its hunting in the charity shops for a one off bargain, or using your designer bag when you go to the supermarket. If its spraying yourself with perfume, or or playing silly games with your children, which then makes them, as well as you laugh. If it's pounding your backside at the gym, or shutting out the world whilst listening to music. They all matter, and they are all important. So if, right now, that little something is not an aspect of your life, the last thing I will be saying to you is "I love you just the way you are". The reason I won't be saying that is because I want to see that spark, that thing that makes you 'you'. We can all lose our way and put out that light from time to time, every single one of us. But guess what, we can always get it back too. And that, my friends is exactly what I will be encouraging you to do, go and get it, and 'you' back. Be happy again.

Peace

Bedroom Shoes??

I am a bit of an eBay addict. I am known for trawling though other peoples cast offs to bag myself a bargain on pretty much a monthly basis.
This month has been no different, well, bar the fact I hit the grand old age of 38 at the beginning of it! I've wondered though eBay in the mystical hope that a treasured item will materialize, and guess what, I hit the jackpot!
I was very lucky to receive nice gifts, money, cards, meals out and heartfelt well wishes for my birthday. It was definitely a case of good, happy times thanks to my lovely family and friends.
 I decided to put the money I was given to very good use. I wasn't going to be Miss Sensible and buy myself a pair of safe flat shoes, hell no! I wanted to be Miss Naughty and whack it up a notch, and let me tell you something, the shoes I bought take mischief to a whole new level.
 I've had my eyes on this particular style of Iron Fist heels for quite some time, and lucky little me found a pair on good ole eBay, my size, never worn (the seller claims they were an 'unwanted gift') for a mere score. Yes, I had to enter a bidding war, as they were originally up for a meager ten pounds, but luckily my competitor threw in the towel and the shoes went to their rightful owner.

I posted a picture of said sexy shoes on my Google+ account, to which one of my friends text and asked "Are those your bedroom shoes?"
 Now initially I was very confused by this question. Mainly because I live in a studio flat, so technically I don't have what is classed as a 'bedroom'. I also wondered, why would I hide these shoes away, only to be viewed by a bed partner when the time, ahem, arose? And being that at present, there is no 'bed partner' in my life (you work it out) these little beauties would never see the light of day.
So I answered the text with a big fat "No!" because, why should sexy shoes only be reserved for sex? Why should I limit the viewing pleasure to only one individual male? He (Whoever he may be) should be so damned lucky! Wear these shoes so only he can get his rocks off in private? No way! My shoes were bought so that I could get my rocks off, in public, on many many occasions. They may hurt after awhile, I may even twist my ankle, but hell these shoes were made for walking.

I know that my dear Mumsie will disapprove of these shoes (which she does with the other two pairs I own) and deem them as "slutty". But to be honest, if "slutty" can look this good, then I am going to cheerfully jump aboard the train of thought that claims the word "slut" is not actually a bad thing. There may even be a few other people who think I am nuts for buying a pair of sexy stilts, but let me come back with this, If you are having one of those dreaded 'fat days', guess what, the shoes will still fit. If you are having a 'hair from hell' meltdown, the shoes will draw the attention away from the birds nest above your head. If you feel a bit crap and want to rock up those jeans, take a wild guess what will take them up to a whole new level.
 I always say that a woman needs at least one pair of extravagant naughty heels in her life, the pair that once you own, you can never part with. And when it comes to these shoes, why on earth should they be reserved for the bedroom? Shoes have souls that should tread the ground. Those souls were not designed to face the ceiling. So for gods sake if you do have what is classed as 'bedroom shoes', well, just maybe, it's time to give them a new role. Take them out, show them off! Your lucky 'bed partner' has had enough privileges and private viewings, it's time for you to get your rocks off.......in public, on many many occasions!

Peace ;)

Alpha? Beta?

I have been doing a lot of reading about the whole Alpha and Beta Female thing recently, and it has made me wonder which one I am. Which heading do I come under?
Some of these articles paint Alpha females as aggressive bitches who will not take no for an answer, they have them pencilled down as Lawyers or CEO's who have minions running around after them, happy to be at their beck and call. They are independent women who fend for themselves.They are in the drivers seat and no one else is taking the wheel.
Betas on the other hand have been likened to that sweet nurturing family girl, who loves cooking a nice meal for her man, who is agreeable, soft, pleasant but also a bit of a doormat. She is creative, has imagination and flair and is also full of love. She is often in the care profession, working hard and earning little. This girl lets her man call the shots and she seems to know her place in the world.

 But lets look at this more realistically. Are there any woman out there that fall 100% under one catagory? Is it really that cut and dry? Are we all that stereotypical? Do you have to be a Lawyer to be Alpha, Do you have to be in the care profession to be Beta? Does Alpha = Bitch and Beta = Sweet.
If this is the case then I am definatly a Beta, as I work with children and am a caring individual. But on closer inspection I can also see some Alpha qualities thrown in. I live alone and am self reliant. I am the one in the drivers seat as my boyfriend is a non driver. I have had a more supervisory role within my profession once upon a time, and I am determined that one day I will climb that ladder again. If I want something badly enough I will go after it, but I wont become an aggressive bitch to get there. I am quite confident, look after myself and I generally know what makes me happy.
I do have some Beta qualities also thrown into the mix, such as the being creative, being close to my family, and earning peanuts. I love to cook too but this is mainly for myself, not because I want to fatten up my man. I can be afraid of confrontation and will often avoid arguments at all costs. I will help where needed and have been described as 'nice' and 'sweet' and 'lovely' on more than one occasion.

So looking at all these stereotypes, I have no idea what I, or many other women in this world fall under. So let's ask ourselves, Is it in any way possible for us to be both? Alpha with a bit of Beta thrown in for good measure? Surely each woman has a different mix of both, some swaying more towards one or the other, some with equal amounts, some with hardly any of one in at all.
 I personally compare it to a cocktail mix, many different blends, with many different ingredients. All unique and all individual. It is fun to try different ones but once you find one that is right for you, you know it's right.

 Also in my experience people can change. That girl who is likened to a doormat may suddenly crack, and next thing you know she is taking nobodies crap. That Bitch Boss From Hell may walk in crying one day and announce she has split with her partner and has no idea what the hell she will do. The roles may change with little or no warning, and that mix that once worked well is now suddenly redundant.

So if and when you, or I, are asked which one you are, I personally would say "Both!" or maybe we could coin up a third catagory, such as "Alphabeta"...Then again, maybe not, I do not want to sound like a children's brand of spaghetti or like a dodgy translation of a word which describes where each letter in our language is contained.
One thing is for sure though, If I do come across someone who firmly describes herself as an Alpha, or meekly whispers that she is Beta, I won't believe her, well not 100% anyway.  I believe there is nobody out there who is 100% one or the other. We all have soft spots as well as stubborn streaks, it just depends where each ones are hidden in every one of us. It's what makes us all unique.

Anyway must run, I need to go cook my mans dinner then demand he does all the housework for me.

Adios

Peace

No rest for the wicked?

I don't know about anyone else? But I have trouble relaxing. I often get told by my boyfriend, friends and family that I should slow down sometimes, but this is can be like the equivalent of suggesting I try to stop blinking, or stop getting my hair cut and coloured in the mad ways that I am often known for.
 I am the sort of person that has quite an active social life, who likes to see my friends as much as I can. I also like to keep in touch with my family to the best of my abilities. I have a full time job, which luckily I love. A gym membership I try to use, and a car that, although reliable, needs maintenance and care from time to time. I have debts (although in no way huge) that need paying, as well as the rent, bills, and groceries. I have a fella who likes to spend time with me on a regular basis, and I sometimes have a part time babysitting habit that can be a lifeline as well as a means to keep my cocktail cabinet stocked up.
 I also like to class myself as a person who is happy to muck in if the need arises, who can and will help if called to do so. If someone in my life is struggling because they can't get something done or need some assistance, I will often not hesitate to jump right in, even if I am tired or have planned a quiet night in for myself. I am not, as a result, very good at prioritising time to rest, relax and wind down without my active mind finding something to do or something to think about. I cannot have a night in watching my favourite box-sets without finding a chore, or checking my emails, or browsing though Facebook.

I am certain that this inability to relax is not borne from the fact that I hate my own company, as I often like to have time to myself in my little pad. Nor is it due to the fact I have a hyperactivity disorder (well as far as I know). The main reason I have such a busy lifestyle is because there is one word in the English language I have so much trouble saying, and that word is "No."
Now don't get me wrong, I am not a mug, but I am one of those people who have a fear of missing out. If I say "No" to that party invitation, will it be the best party ever? If I turn down that babysitting job, will another girl go, who is less qualified or experienced, who will then walk away with a gigantic tip and be adored by the family forever more. If I say "No" to my loved ones, will I then hurt their feelings and spend the next few weeks shadowed in guilt, saying "Sorry" a million times. If I say "No" to that person who wants my assistance or help, will it then make me a "Very bad person" who is totally selfish and inconsiderate.
Deep down in my heart I know these things won't happen, or that if they do actually occur, there will be other opportunities in the future that will come my way that will allow me to amend myself. But sadly that does not eradicate that fear, the niggle that the "No" will equate the missing out on something that could be really amazing. It does not make one of the shortest words in our vocabulary any more easier to say.

But another thing I have realized is that this problem is in fact quite common, especially in us womenfolk. As a gender we are known for our juggling and multi-tasking. We can hold a conversation on the phone whilst ironing, and usually whilst doing this we can have one eye on the TV or sort of listen to the music playing in the background without it causing a distraction. We can cook a meal for our family or friends, whilst chatting away to them and drinking a well deserved glass of wine. We can read a book whilst running the hoover around or tidying up the mess. We can easily make, and drink, a cup of tea whilst doing the washing up. Also we won't throw a hissy fit if someone is talking to us as we try to park or pull away in the car.

I think in life, us women have to be able to do at least two things at once, or otherwise things would not get done at all! Asking your reluctant fella to do the washing up whilst the football is on would be like getting blood out of a stone! Doing the washing up whilst your favourite TV programme is on, well I am certain we have all done it on more than one occasion. Now I am not taking this opportunity to put down men and their lack of juggling skills, but I am using this as a chance to applaud to us women who have made it an art form. It to us, is as instinctual as breathing. Luckily it comes naturally and we don't even have to think about it. So let's give ourselves a clap. And also whilst we are here I want to give the loudest round of applause, a cheer, and take off my hat, to those women who do it all with children thrown into the mix. I don't have children myself, although I do work with them, so know how challenging they can be. I can honestly say, from the bottom of my heart, I do not know how you do it, you deserve the biggest medal that there is!

Peace

I am a party animal, so sue me.

Regular readers of my blog and my friends will know that I have a bit of a reputation for liking a drink. It is also well known that I can throw rather epic cocktail parties at my little pad from time to time. Now considering this statement I would not class myself as a neighbour from hell, nor would I call myself a nuisance. But it seems my dear next door companion has other ideas!

In our block of flats we have a single occupancy rule that means we can't have another person living with us. This includes parents, other halves and children. But that does not in any way mean we can't have guests, sleep overs or parties.
 Without sounding like a big head or a cocky individual, I have a fair few friends and a rather good social life . These friends and I sometimes like to socialize within my flat, as I have quite an impressive cocktail cabinet contained inside it. It can also make for a relatively cheap night out as the requirements to attend my parties are just to bring a spirit and a juice as well as a happy persona. Things can get quite lively quite quickly, and it is always nice to know that people come away with hazy happy memories as well as funny stories to tell. Admittedly things can get a little loud when I do have a gathering, as my small portable stereo is pumping out the tunes from my ipod, and my guests are chatting and laughing quite animatedly. But you also need to consider that my flat is quite small, so the maximum amount of people I can have in it is ten at a push. Also I know there is the issue of thin walls, but unfortunately there is not a great deal I can do about that.

So should these factors be enough for me to stop throwing my parties? Should I give in to the woman who likes early nights and silence on a Saturday night? Do I bow my head down like a condemned woman who needs help because her idea of a good night does not always consist of staring at a TV screen whilst wearing her pyjamas and slippers? In the words of Diamond Head (epic rock band fyi) am I evil?
I personally don't think so, and I would also like to point out that the lady in question who resides within our block of flats is of a similar age to me, she also doesn't have to keep irregular or unsociable hours, nor does she have a small child living with her. Now I know that this in no way justifies me grumbling, nor does it make her choice to embrace the quiet life wrong, but surely from time to time I should be allowed to cut loose at the weekend, yes? And before anyone starts spouting out the law that states noise should be reduced by 11pm, my parties are usually wrapped up by midnight, and I always make a concious effort to turn things down at a certain time. I don't exactly throw them on a weekly or monthly basis, as my finances and liver could not handle that, but I do openly admit I throw a good handful of parties a year, especially during the summer months. But I would also like to admit that I am human, and that mistakes can be made from time to time and that yes, nine times out of ten I end up being a drunken hostess. But does this make me a bad person who should be shamed for being such a party animal? I think not.
I also want to point out that when other occupants throw parties (and trust me, once upon a time it was a regular occurance) I was never found banging on doors or making complaints to the landlord. If it was that noisy after a certain time I might have had a quiet word (and I think this only occured once, at 4am!) but most times I just put my chill out playlist on and wished I could join them. I understand that people have stressful lives from time to time, but surely how they choose to wind down is their business. It may be a quiet night in or it may be having a few friends round for a gossip and giggle. It is not always financially possible to go to the bars or clubs, and that sometimes having a gathering in your own home is cheaper and safer. You should not feel shamed or bad for doing this, and as long as you keep within the law, I think there is no harm in letting your hair down with your mates. I would totally understand if your neighbour was banging out the bass at 12am on a Wednesday night or had a habit of blasting the guitar on a regular basis, but is it such a crime to have your friends round on a Saturday night for a few drinks and giggles when you know for a fact there are no little ones or elderly folk in your building? I may be putting the cat amongst the pidgeons as I say this but I think not. And I think us party animals need to stand together. Yes you quiet souls are entitled to your peace, but surely we are entitled to our fun from time to time too? So next time you hear a neighbour having a party, think before you complain, is it really that unbearable? Honestly? Also you may want to remember that there is always another tactic you could employ, if you can't beat them, join them! You never know, you may just have fun!

Peace, especially to my fellow party animals ;)

I don't want to grow up!

I have been doing a lot of reading lately about the 'Peter Pan Generation', a group of 20-40 somethings who
refuse to grow up. It has also been likened to a mature adolescence and can be looked at as a sad state of affairs.
Someone who is in the grips of Peter Pan doesn't dream of getting married, doesn't desperately want children, and also doesn't see going out and enjoying oneself as something that can only be done in your actual teens or on high days and holidays.
Some Peter Panners still live at home, but some have flown the nest and have their own places, be it rented or mortgaged. Some live alone, some with friends, some with partners. Peter Pan wannabes are male or female, and they are more common than you think. I know a few that had children young and have decided to reclaim their youth now that said children are older.

I think people need to think why an individual may be a Peter Pan Generation member. Maybe when they were actually young, a freedom of choice may not have been theirs. Maybe they had a bad experience and do not want to risk the same thing happening again. They may have seen marriages around them fail and believe that it is not worth the trauma. They may have the attitude "Been there, done that, I don't want another go on the merry-go-round." They may have just decided that it is not for them.
I personally think all of these reasons are justified, and that people who live this way don't need judgement or well meaning advice from others. We need to think, are we put on this planet solely to be wed, reproduce and find joy in early nights, earlier mornings and Disney movies? Are we freaks of nature if we don't hear the biological clock, or turn into a pile of goo when a wedding procession goes past. Are we crazy if, as is the case with some of us, we have done it once, and really don't want to do it again. I honestly don't think so.

Marriage is a huge responsibility, and also a legal binding contract that means going to solicitors and courts if you want out. A child is something that can never be taken lightly, and can never be given back if you change your mind. As well as bringing untold joy, there is also untold responsibility, risks, sacrifice and compromise that makes up the whole package. Someone who has decided that it isn't for them should not be subjected to peer pressure, or made to feel abnormal for not choosing that path.
 It is not easy to go against the norm, and for some of us, it is more than a refusal to grow up. So if you do come across a Peter Pan Adult please don't treat them as if they are weirdos from another planet, because trust me, we are not! Most of us don't pass judgement on our 'married with children' counterparts, and all we  want is for them to be happy, so please find it in your hearts do the same for us, because everyone deserves to be happy surely?
Ok must dash now, Tinkerbell is waiting for me and my fellow Panners. I'll be back from Neverland soon, when inspiration strikes!

Ciao.

Peace.

Is love.....living apart?

I recently heard about a trend in couples that seems to be catching on, where they technically don't live together. It was phrased as LAT or Living Apart Together, and I have to be honest, I am intrigued.
 I have always valued my own space, and as difficult as it can be in this day and age, I will try to snatch a few moments of alone time when I can. The couples I have read about that have adopted this lifestyle seem happy, and from what it seems, it keeps the romance alive if you are not bickering about the washing up and the overflowing bin that needs taking out.

I  have the advantage of my fella living upstairs from me, so it isn't a case of having to traipse across London with an overnight bag and a pair of matchsticks to keep my eyelids from drooping as it's been a mad day at work. We also have the added advantage of our almost adjacent flats having the bills included in our rents, so although it is in no way cheap, it is nice to (sort of) be able to afford to live this way for the time being.
But I also read that living this way can in the long term be a disadvantage, as then you never learn about compromise, adapting and moving forward with your life. You get so used to doing things your own way that in time it almost becomes impossible to change.
It has definately given me food for thought, as I have tried the whole cohabitating thing before and it obviously didn't work out. Would we be better off in society if we didn't live with our partners? Would relationships last longer if there wasn't the crazy need to coup up and settle down. Would my boyfriend despair of my bookworm tendancies, or would I wage war on his Playstation if we shared our living space. Or is this just borne from something selfish or from the refusal to grow up? Are we in the midst of a Peter Pan Generation trend? Are we so desperately clinging to our independence that we fear letting go will mean losing ourselves in the process?

As it stands at the moment, I am not sure which camp I am on. I will be honest and say it is nice to shut the door on the world from time to time, be surrounded by my own things and not have to worry that some of my little quirks will drive my fella to distraction. But at the same time I am not sure this is what I want for the whole rest of my life, living in a studio flat, with a neighbour (who isn't my fella on this occasion or we would have serious issues) who complains if I have a party on a Friday night. But for the time being the situation seems to suit, and as long as the rent doesn't sky rocket anytime soon, I suppose we should just enjoy this luxury. Once this time has passed we won't get it back, and there are not hundreds of 'bills included' flats out there for us to choose from. So all I can say on this matter is that for now... watch this space.......

Peace

Not always a mans job!

How many of us have attended barbeques, be it of friends or family, to find a man stood at the grill, tongs in hand, chest puffed up, loving his role as 'King of the coals.'  How many of you have a boyfriend, friend or relative that will not let you go near the BBQ, let alone try to help, for fear it will make him look less masculine! How many of you have then chomped on a burnt sausage, or an undercooked burger, claiming the food is fantastic, when clearly it isn't!
Now I am not saying men are rubbish in this department, because some of them are not, my Dad does a mean BBQ, and yes, some of what I have learned has come from him. But some men just seem to relish the role so much that no one else gets a look in.

An ex of mine once came to a barbeque being held at my Mums, where I lived at the time. She let me invite friends over as we had a tradition of having BBQs, grabbing a cheap childs swimming pool, filling it with ice and water to house our beers and the like, and just generally having fun. We usually shared the responsibility of cooking, rather than one doing it all, and it made for a nice festive atmosphere.
 On this occasion, my ex took over the kitchen and bought (as well as insisting I bought) expensive food. He wouldn't even let my Mum go near, and it was her kitchen! When my friends came round and offered to help, he wouldn't have a bar of it, especially from the girls. He was in charge and that was it. As you can imagine, that has wasn't our most jovial barbeque!

This has since taught me that sometimes, it is not wise to let a man go near the coals, for fear they go all caveman. It has clearly become outdated about the woman being chained to the kitchen sink, so let's change another stereotype about the man being the master of the grill.
 I have cooked many a barbeque since my ex stole the show, and to date I have not given myself or anyone else food poisoning. The food hasn't been burnt or undercooked, and the compliments I have received have all been genuine. It's nice to know that if the weather is nice and I fancy a barbeque, I've got my small pink grill (yes I know, but the other options were a football style top or a disposable, so the hot pink won) can grab some food, beer, tongs, instant light coals and matches. I can call upon my boyfriend (who isn't BBQ macho, I am pleased to add) and/ or friends to join me, and we can hit the park! (Only problem is when the park security come along and make you put it out) It is refreshing to realise I don't need a man to do the job whilst I play the damsel, and it is also a nice way to give it a go yourself, as I never object to anyone helping out. So if the day is nice, and you fancy a BBQ, go for it! There are plenty of books and websites that teach you how, plus some people are also happy to pass on their tips. Don't wait for a man to offer, because you may as well get the chains whilst you're at it and attach yourself to that sink.
 Once you know what you are doing, it becomes a good excuse to get your grill out and indulge. Only thing is, if like me, you don't have a garden and so go to the park, you may want to check if you are allowed barbeques there. If it doesn't say, keep an eye out for the warden. If one does come along and ask you to put it out, you can always use your feminine charms, you never know, it may work wonders! And hence there is yet another reason why a man is not always King of coals my friends ;)

Enjoy!

Peace

A letter to my younger self

Well it is now 2013, I have recently turned 37. So how are things twenty years in the future? Well much has changed but some things have stayed the same. I will elaborate now and answer some (but not all!) of your questions.
 We always worry about our weight, that never changes, and we always pick holes in our appearance. But looking at you in this picture, yes that woman who stopped you in the street was right, you are too skinny! I am a size 10-12 and that's much healthier. I don't own a set of scales or count calories, because I remember how obsessed you were and I never want to go back there.
Anyway let's change the subject, because I am sure you don't want to hear about your weight.

That boy you fancy, (and yes he is just a boy) nothing comes of it. He is a tease. You could do so much better if only you believe it. Looking at him back then, and looking at him now on his Facebook page (trust me, in time you will know what Facebook is) I can't help but wonder what the hell you were thinking! I am so glad nothing came of that, or some of the other crushes you go on to have after him.
We get through college, and although at times it is a struggle, you stick out childcare and become good at what you do. Not many people we know have twenty years experience under their belt. There are a lot of changes in the Childcare world, but we are adaptable, we can handle it. We know our stuff

You do pass your driving test, but there will be three different instructors that teach you (not all at once obviously) It is a long road, and a slow process, but you do it. I am now a relatively confident driver who has done some long distant journeys, and although I don't keep it tidy, I love my car!

We are notorious for our drinking and our partying ways. Ibiza? Five times my girl, mostly for two week holiday stints. We have done many raves and all nighters, but don't panic, you do not stumble onto the narcotic path that others have, our stamina is natural. We live up our twenties in big style.

The 'deed' will not happen for a few more years. Although he was ok at the time, nothing comes of it. I won't say too much about him, But truth be told, you didn't fancy him much, and although at the time he breaks your heart, you soon realize you don't need to waste your tears on him.

I am a bit of a Rock Chick now, who loves going to gigs and festivals. At some point we will go to a Fest, and meet someone. I can't tell you too much, because I now know that what happened had to happen, for you to become me, Independent and self sufficient. At the time it feels like a miracle that he stumbled along, but things change. He changes. Let's just say we won't make the same mistake that others make, we get out. I will leave it at that, as in time you will know exactly what I mean.

So here I am aged 37. So what can I tell you?  I rent a small flat. The dream of having your own place comes later than expected, but it does happen. The horror stories fed to you are false. We love living by ourselves. We are proud that we are independent. We are not married, no children. There is a man in our lives and we are happy. The flat is quite quirky, we find interesting things to put in it and we often cet compliments on how it looks.
We drive and we still work in Childcare, we love working with children, but as it stands I have none of my own. They say that though, don't they? Nursery Nurses either get broody and have babies relatively quickly, or they become party animals! Take a wild guess which one you become.
 That dream you have about looking over my shoulder at a cash point and seeing that I don't have a lot of money is in fact a premonition. But when you do have it, look at my face, although there have been tough times, you can see I am happy and that I wouldn't change anything.
We are close with our family, and still see, or hear from, Sharon, Karen and Michelle. They will always be a part of our lives, no matter where it takes us. We make new friends along the way too, some that we keep, some that we don't. The people in my life now are genuine and I wouldn't be without them. There are some friends I don't get to see a lot of, but when you get to my age, life has a habit of getting in the way. They still mean the world to me and I am pretty sure they feel the same way. When we do get to see each other it's lovely.
 Unfortunately we always seem to attract controlling types, in one aspect of our life or another, but where as you gave into them, I am not so pliant. I am still a bit of a softie, but I am not a pushover.
Sadly, you can be a bit of one at times, but that will change, I promise.
We still like to live it up, but my stamina is not as good as yours, two nights on the trot almost kills me, how you go on to do two week stints in Ibiza is a mystery.
We are still very passionate about music, and you will be pleased to know I am not a telly addict (it's rarely on!) I don't think that will ever change. As I said there are some similarities but not everything stays the same.

Ok well I am going to say Goodbye now, and will wish you good luck and fun times in the future. If I get a letter from my future self in her fifties I will let you know what she said. I will also be curious about what she does to her hair! For me it is bleach blonde and purple, and although that may horrify you right now, I am still mortified you love the perm! Luckily that phase doesn't last too long! But for now, stay strong and stay being you, but please stop perming your hair!

TTFN

Peace

One of the boys?

I am a woman with male and female friends. I would say that my friendship groups are quite a mixed bag. I truly believe men and women can have a platonic friendship with each other without the messy business of sex getting in the way.
 Women friendships and men friendships can fulfill many different needs. Nothing beats a night out with the girls at the weekend, but also a male perspective on things can really be refreshing at times. Both types of friendships have their pros and cons and I am fully aware of all of these.
But here is what I do not understand, these women or girls who only hang out with the boys. Chicks that insist that they are one of the guys and gravitate towards the men in the room. Women who wouldn't be seen dead hitting the shops with their girlfriends and who would never entertain the thought of inviting their best (female) friend round for a night of gossip and wine. This is the so called buddy that spends most of the night chatting to your boyfriend whilst barely uttering two words to you. She is a cross between a huntress and a damsel in distress. She uses her charm with the men to get what she wants, be it free drinks or all the attention in the room. If flirting was an Olympic event she would claim all of the medals in one fowl swoop. She has made batting her eyelashes almost as instinctual as breathing. She is a woman on a mission and I personally cannot stand her.

These women are usually known as men's women or boys girls. They look like us and are usually somewhere lurking within our friendship groups or work place. These are the females whom on first inspection are not easy to spot. But you can usually weed them out if you put the effort in. Organize a girls night out at your workplace and these girls will scoff at you as if you had suggested a day of dressing up as cartoon characters. The look of boredom is so apparant, and you have more chance of being rewarded a 'double the amount you already earn' payrise than getting these chicks names down on the guestlist.
But when someone organizes a boys night out in the workplace, just stand back and watch them sniff around like police dogs. Suddenly they go all 'detective' and try to find out where the lads are going. They think it will be 'fun' to turn up unannounced and surprise them. They go to great efforts with their hair and shower themselves with perfume, and why? To join in with the football banter and talk about the pros and cons of alloy wheels? Excuse me whilst I stifle a yawn.

Girls like this are a complete mystery to me. Now don't get me wrong, as I said, I like to hang with the boys from time to time, and I have been known to impress with my pint-downing party trick and my love of music from the metal genre. But this does not mean I want to gatecrash a boys night at the pub on a regular basis. I would feel embarrassed if I went out with my boyfriend and his mates and i was the only girl there. I would worry that I'd look like the possessive girlfriend who doesn't let her fella out of her sight, or some girl that is under the illusion that she is one of the boys, when clearly and genetically, she is not!

That said, I am not a 'girly girl' who likes all things pink, fluffy and glittery, but I am what is called a 'girls girl' who likes to spend time with her female friends chatting about work, men and so forth. 'Girly girls' and 'girl's girls' are two seperate things. 'Boy's girls' on the other hand, are just a different breed.
 I have often tried to befriend these girls, when our paths have crossed, but each and every time they have not been interested in me or my efforts to strike up a conversation. One woman in particular, who was a good friend of an ex, had a dinner party, to which I wasn't invited. She "didn't do girls things, or want girls there" so instead it was just her and about five other blokes. Fun. Hilarious. Gutted I missed that one.
Please bear in mind that this woman never met me, never spoke to me and probably wouldn't have recognized me if I passed her in the street. She had no idea who I was but because I was not male, she just didn't care! Only problem with that though, the whole "issue with girls" thing, is that, ok maybe she could have been a tomboy as such, but, and please excuse me for this crudeness, a quick peek into her own knickers would confirm that Shock! Horror! She is a Girl!!! so she obviously had a bit of a problem with herself!?

Ok bitchiness aside now, I do not want to appear judgemental here, as that is something I am not, nor do I want to tar tomboys with this brush. As I have said, I love hanging out with the fellas and am not adverse to the odd male 'topic'. But when it comes to watching football, or discussing Kylies bum in those hotpants, I have no clue or interest, I personally would rather be watching SATC and discussing Vin Diesels bum in whatever he is wearing. And the best persons to do those activites with is other women, surely? Not that bloke who is trying to kid himself that he was 'one of the girls'. Because let's be honest here, he would be the last one I would want to borrow lipstick off or go shoe shopping with right?........Now where is that Marcus, I need to borrow his mascara, hmmmmm...... ;)

Peace

DIY For Girls!

Being a woman who lives alone, certain problems can crop up. In the mad excitement of getting your own place, moving in, putting your own stamp on your home, it never crosses your mind that the tap may need fixing, the toilet seat may need replacing, certain pieces of furniture need building.
Now I am not the sort of woman who will play the damsel in distress and flutter her eyelashes when a shelving unit needs assembling. I find it very difficult to ask for help, especially from a man. I blanche when I hear the words "It's a mans job", as I feel that I am just as capable, if I put my mind to it, of assembling said shelving unit as any man that happens to be in my life.
 I am not here to start a Woman verses Man debate, and yes I know men have more physical stregnth than women. But when it comes to my own place, I feel a sense of pride that I assembled most of the things within it myself.
Yes I won't deny I have made some mistakes (eg my tv cabinet, a couple of the wood mdf parts are the wrong way round) but surely that is how you learn. Since my tv cabinet, I have assembled my futon, my bed and my CD rack (that strangely was the most difficult thing!) I fitted my new toilet seat myself, and also managed to fix a cupboard door. Those who may want to scoff at my efforts are very welcome to come round and view my handywork for themselves. My bed is sturdy, my futon is also, and my toilet seat is relatively secure.
 I have a DIY book that was written by a woman, for women, which I use on a regular basis. I also keep some tools in the cupboard. On my 'To Purchase' list is a drill, and I also have dreams of borrowing a chainsaw and attacking the bush that is outside my flat. I am not scared to climb a ladder, and I don't get anal about a bit of muck clearing.
Obviously if some 'big jobs' such as fitting a new bathroom suite were to crop up, then yes I would have to get the professionals in. There is a strong likelyhood that the said professionals will be men. Even in this day and age, most plumbers, electricians and builders are men, and most childcare workers are women. But there are a few that break the mould, such as our new (male) recruit at my workplace. Who knows, if I carry on the way I am I may end up at a building site, wolf whistling at any male that happens to walk past, looking mighty fetching in my overalls.
 In a few years time Workmen may be obsolete and Workwomen may be the way forward! Nurseries may be ran by fellas singing Nursery Rhymes whilst harping on about the joys of potty training. The role reversal may catch on! But until then I will continue to use my screwdriver and hammer in my spare time, whilst I harp on about the joys of potty training in my work time.
Thankyou for reading, I plan to be back very soon, oh and if you have a chainsaw about you, please let me know. Though if I do get my paws on one it may take a little longer for me to write my next post, as I will be too busy attacking the bush outside!

Peace

The art of Vintage

I have developed a new hobby, and if you had told me, when I was a fifteen year old stroppy teenager who loved sparkly skull rings, and various coloured stud belts, who would often have been heard saying "It all has to be shiny and new!" that I would become the thirty six year old woman who loves digging through the charity shops, who scours Ebay on a regular basis, and who is drawn to Vintage shops like a moth, I would have laughed out loud and most probably stuck my teenage nose in the air! But how times have changed.

It started with the odd piece of furniture for my flat, the secondhand bedside cabinet that makes my wardrobe and bedframe now go together (My bedframe is light wood, my wardrobe is white, my bedside cabinet is light wood with white draws, so now it looks more like a set!) The childs pink butterfly patterned fold down table that has my laptop, or half filled/empty cocktail glasses, sat on it, depending on the day/night of the week. The magazine rack that belonged to the sellers grandmother and was originally bought in the 60's. The cocktail trolley that the original owner decided he didn't want after about 10 years, so bought a 'space age' one in replacement, allowing his old (and my new) trolley to have a party filled life at my pad instead of wallowing as an unsold, unloved item on Ebay. The chair that once lived, un sat on, in my aunts garage but now lives here, and has people bickering to sit on it on a regular basis.... I could go on!

Now after all this time of furniture finding,  my interest has started to wonder to the clothes! I don't think I will find myself in an old fashioned teadress (not that I am slating those who do wear them, there is a knack to finding and wearing such a dress, and sadly I do not appear to have it) But I have found the odd bargain that now has pride of place in my wardrobe. Items such as an MTV knitted tanktop, an Oasis denim skirt, and a mens Metallica tee-shirt that I cheerfully cut the sleeves and neckline off to make more boob-friendly! I could not frown at the fact that each item cost me less than a fiver, and it is also nice to know that when I go to the pub, it is very doubtful I will come face to face with someone who is wearing the exact the same item, causing instant mortification!
As a result I have now caught the bug, and am currently on the hunt for a funky vintage coat. Something unique and well made (that isn't fur I must add! Have sadly come across many of these in my searches) I also wouldn't frown at another vintage bag, like my tassled Deisel one I have had for years and still use on a regular basis. I also still keep looking at the furniture, often browsing on the moroccan pouffes I have come across on my beloved Ebay. I have not found any of these items that have jumped out and grabbed me just yet, but that's the joy of looking, you never know what gems you will stumble across in the search. I am sure I am not going to become someone who takes to raiding her Nan's friends wardrobes, or who digs through the skips, as this, it seems, is for the elite. I am just a beginner here. But as passtimes go, it can be fun, and rather inexpensive, it also is nice when someone compliments one of your finds or asks where it is from.

 I will always take my somewhat vintage crochet multicouloured hat off (which has been likened to a teacosy!) to those who have made this an artform, my finds are most probably paltry compared to thier extensive collections, but you have to start somewhere hey? You never know, by the time I hit fifty four, I may have found the coat of my dreams, and maybe even discover the knack of wearing a teadress, although I am sure I will cover it with studs and accessorise it with a skull scarf (some things never change). Who knows, I may end up living in an old house, with a couple of vintage ghosts as friends. I could take a liking to driving an old brightly coloured Beetle whilst listening to cassette tapes. I may end up being a middle aged-ish eclectic eccentric soul who screeches her beetle to a halt beside a skip and dives in headfirst! Who knows? Fifteen year old me would never have imagined doing the things I do now, maybe fifty four year old me will look back and scoff, muttering at her shame that I was such an amatuer whilst I was in my thirties, only time will tell. But as it stands now, you will not see my silver doc martens poking out of a skip as I raid other peoples junk. One womans trash is another womans treasure, but thirty six year old me won't be digging quite that deep to find it! ;)

Peace

Shaking off the blues.

As I have always said, I aim to be totally honest in my blog writings. This one will be no exception. If by writing about my recent battle with Depression I can inspire someone else to get help, or even just contribute in a tiny way to ridding the world of the taboo surrounding it, then it will be worth laying my soul bare for a bit.
So Depression, how can I describe it? Well, to me, it was like something that sucked away at my personality like a vampire sucks blood. It was slow in it's attack, but once it had me in it's grip I sure knew about it. I was slow to realise that I had stopped doing all the things I enjoy, like listen to music, cook, have cocktail parties, exercise, talk to people, see the world (so to speak) take pride in my flat and buy quirky items for it. On my days off prior to depression I would go out, hit the shops, mooch around London, go to the gym, you know, generally get out there. Whilst in the cloud of it I would stay indoors on my days off, curtains closed, in my pyjamas, not even wanting to get out of bed. My creativity hibernated, hence the long gap between blog writings, and I felt contantly tired, upset and/or snappy.
Luckily I had a good support network around me, and managed to seek the help I needed to get better. I went to the doctor, who prescibed me antidepressants and I decided there and then to make the much needed changes in my life to help me back on my way to happiness.
 I can honestly say I am on the mend now, and I hope to be off the antidepressants very soon. It has made me realise that nothing is worth being unhappy about, and if the road to recovery means walking away from something you once held dear, then so be it, it doesn't make you a quitter, or weak, or a coward. It just means that you realise you deserve better, and will take the necessary steps to achieve that. I will never take my happiness for granted again, but also I won't put up with things that make me doubt myself as a person either. If I feel something isn't right, I will no longer put up with it and shut up. It's taken me awhile to get here, but I managed it. Hopefully all those who suffer the same condition will find a way also, by surrounding themselves with the love and support from those around them. I will always be open about my fight, and by doing so I hope others will be open too, it is nothing to be ashamed of. If we rid the taboo, hopefully the stigma will go with it. Anyway peeps, that's enough ramblings for one post. I want to finish by wishing everyone a Happy New Year. May it bring you happiness and fun times. Here's to 2013 ;-)

Peace

Only The Lonely?

Ok, It is once again rant time. Friends of mine, and hopefully readers of this blog will know I don't take too kindly to certain stereotypes. Yes I know some are essential for society and all that, but some (well most) are quite frankly judgemental and biased. It seems that yet again people want to stick a label on solo living folk as lonely and unfortunate souls and it infuriates me! Why oh why do they feel it is so necessary to drum it into folk that are contemplating living alone that it's the pits and a life of drudgery. Why do certain individuals (some who have no doubt never even tried it so quite frankly wouldn't know) like to paint a miserable picture of living independently as if it is something to fear rather than an experience to embrace.
I've heard all the lines and excuses under the sun for why it is so bad to have your own place. I get the 'poor you' looks and the woe be gone stares all the time, it is, quite frankly, boring, and a waste of people's efforts! So I am going to paint an honest picture, based on those lines, and once again attempt to slam some stereotypes.

1. There is no one around to clear up after you.
Good, it's my mess (if you are messy, I, personally, am not) and I will have it how I see fit. At least I know that when I put something down, it won't be moved, or thrown away, by someone else.

2. At least at home you have your dinner cooked and waiting for you.
Yes that's true, and thankyou very much. But sometimes I would like to cook for myself and eat when I choose. I may get in and fancy a take away or just a crisp sandwich, hell I may not want to eat until midnight, or maybe even not be hungry at all as I may have eaten a big lunch.

3. There is nobody for you to talk to.
Invite friends and family round, drop a text or an email to someone who has credit on thier phone, I am sure they will be happy to have a ten minute chat. Go out for a walk, say hi to the smiley stranger. Go to the local library. Pop over to a friend for coffee. Relish the fact that if you don't fancy seeing a single soul and would rather lose yourself in a book, watch a movie or play some music, that you can do just that without having to justify it.

4. You will struggle with money.
Yes, this is true, I won't sugercoat it. I once lived in my overdraft, however I have managed to clear it now (although I still have some debt from the past). But hand on heart, I wouldn't change a thing! I am not encouraging folk to get into debt, but let's be honest, most of us are in it. Using an overdraft isn't a crime, and as long as you do your research and keep on top of it, it can be managable. Just try your best not to have the store-cards, the loans, the credit cards etc, as it will catch up with you in the end. Sometimes I believe that those who struggle are happiest deep down because when they do finally get that bag or item of clothing they want, they realise that they have earned it and therefore deserve it. It makes you appreciate things and also makes you less materialistic. I used to think nothing of putting clothes on an old store-card, which I would then only wear once and then shove to the back of my wardrobe. It was easier to flit it away when I lived at home. I wasted lots of money this way. So yes impulse purchases will be a thing of the past, but let's be honest, how many of these rash buys are really treasured? I mean really loved and worn for years to come? Not many hey?
Yes ok you have to buy cheap food in supermarkets, but in most cases it tastes just as nice as the branded stuff. I have lots of points cards and will always use them. Deals and freebies? Yes please!
  I have had to unfortunately knock my long term vegetarianism on the head. There is often leftover food at work which I would rather eat than throw away. I often feel guilty about having to turn my back on my beliefs but if the food is free, I can't really afford to be fussy about what is in it and also it is wrong to waste it.

5. I am worried that you will start drinking too much.
I like a drink, I will not pretend, but I liked a drink when I lived with others too. There is nothing nicer than sharing a bottle of wine with a close friend on a friday night whilst having a good gossip. It is even nicer when you do not have to worry that your loud cackles are keeping your mum or partner awake when they just want a quiet night. Most people prefer to drink with company, or if they do like a bottle of wine to themselves (which sometimes I do) there is a likelyhood they also liked this when they lived at home. Solo living doesn't always lead to refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle.

6.There will be nobody around to do your laundry, ironing or chores.
Yes I know that. Where I live we do not have washing machines, but I either handwash, go to the laundrette, take washing with me on family visits, hell I have even used the washing machine at work from time to time. I rarely iron as usually I don't need to, and if I do need to do it, it's usually on a sunday afternoon with the music blaring. Ironing kareoke can be the best! I also usually dance around shaking my tush as I hoover as once again the stereo is on full pelt. There is nobody to moan about the washing up not being done, and no one to have a hissy fit if you don't pick up your jeans off the floor. Truth time, I have occasionally done some chores in the nude! Imagine your mum walking in on that!

7. You will be lonely.
Yes if you allow yourself to be. But in most cases solo living folk work full time and have family members and friends call them on a regular basis when they get home. I would lay my bottom dollar most people have a facebook or twitter account also in which they can have regular contact. Use your initiative, invite friends and family round or go and see them. Asking that workmate who has not long started at your company if she fancies popping round for a cuppa may just be appreciated. Going on a solo venture to a movie or to the gym will not only kill time but may also introduce you to new people. How will you know what is out there if you don't look for it. If you seal yourself away from the world then yes you will get lonely. Don't let it happen, I never did, and many people I know who live alone feel the same way.

So there it is, the honest picture, the truth bared. I really hope that someone who dreams of having thier own place reads this and realises that the doom stories are often not true. Yes there are people out there who have tried living alone and ended up not liking it, but then there are some of us who are currently living this way and will be happy to say that it's outshone all our expectations. The only way you will ever find out if you are cut out for this is if you try it. Surely it's better to experience life for yourself than live by the experiences and fears of others.

Peace

My Single self

It is now that I must admit that I have finally gained myself a boyfriend. I never went on a wild manhunt, or waded through the whole single girl regime that presents itself in the form of speed dating or internet hook-ups to find him, it just seems that he stumbled upon my path at the right (or wrong, depending on how you look at it) time. The unfortunate soul that is now in my life happens to have the same taste in music as me and also resides in the same block of flats. It now seems almost inevitable that our paths would cross at some point, and that somehow the fuse to our fireworks would eventually ignite...
But please be rest assured that this is not a blog-post harping on about the joys of new found love. You, I, and said boyfriend in question should know by now that is not the sort of woman I am. I'm not going to spring forth with tales of flowers, soul mates and 'Happy ever afters'  because if I did that, I know that I will vomit myself, so I do not want to induce the upchucks on anyone else who may stumble across my writings. I am not a fairy-tale believer who thinks that a person is not complete without their 'other half' nor am I a merchant who buys into the whole 'The grass is greener' stereotype.

Now that my fella is present in my life, I can honestly say that I can no longer imagine what my life would be like without him in it, I wouldn't want to lose him and I can only hope he wouldn't want to lose me either. But that does in no way mean that my single self does not pop up to haunt me from time to time.

She is like a ghost of me who wears all my skimpy clothes and dons the kind of shoes that would make a hooker jealous.

On rare and unexpected times she whispers in my ear and it drives me crazy.

This saturday night that has just gone by is one of those occasions where she has tried to remind me that although she is virtually non existant now, she will never disappear completely from my life.
 She's been a part of me for so long that it would seem almost cruel to send her packing to the spinsterhood where the other ghosts of single women reside. But to be fair I just wish she would pick her haunting times more wisely, like when I am asleep, or when I am browsing in Ann Summers for toys or outfits. I wish that she and her little toolkit would return to their resting place when I go out with my gorgeous single girlfriends for a few drinks and a dance at the local club. And I can only hope that when a young male hottie hits on all of us that she will stay in her resting place and automatically go on mute. I wish that she wouldn't remind me that if said boyfriend had bailed out on the night (like he almost did) that we got together, he would have ended on a seperate path to mine, and then, as a result, the young male hottie may have ended up spending the night at my pad, but not getting any sleep if you catch my drift. I wish she wouldn't give me flashbacks of encounters long gone and I wish she wouldn't insist on reminding me that I have a much more colorful past than my fella which may make him question what the hell he is doing with me in the first place.

But she does insist on haunting me, and reminding me of a past existence that was once mine. She will lurk, and whisper and convince me to wear those heels that kill my feet. She points at all the low cut tops and plays the songs I used to listen to on repeat when I was alone. She wakes me up in the dead of night to remind me of what I have achieved and what I have gained whilst she ruled my world. She tells me that no matter what I will always survive and that I can count on her, as to be fair she is me, boyfriend or not. So I owe her an awful lot and have to forgive her for her little whisperings and clothing/shoe choices. I have, as a result, made the decision not to ignore her entirely, but to instead pass her words onto others. So if I am out with you one night and a young male hottie hits on you, don't be surprised if I tell you to 'Give him one for me', just like I did to one of my single counterparts this saturday (she didn't, in the end, 'give him one', this time, but who knows next time). It will be my single self talking, and although I can't take her advice personally anymore, as she's already finished with me, that does not mean she has to go on mute and in anyway finished with you lot. So all I can say is long may she haunt me and whisper 'Give him one for me' so that I can pass it on to others.

Peace

I like everything, me!

I am very passionate about music. If it wasn't present in my day to day life I would be a very unhappy person indeed. My existence would be dull and grey, and my happy persona would disappear in an instant.
I have certain types of music I listen to when I  relax, music I play when I am cooking, certain tunes I blast when the girls come round, and songs I attempt to warble to when I am getting ready for a night out.
Myself and many others can definitely be heard saying that we have mood music for when we are happy, sad, angry or even in the throes of passion. I have even had people say that they will listen to music to bring about a mood of happiness or even sadness at times. Music can bring back happy memories, or remind us of a time or a person we would rather forget. Music can be a very powerful tool and it can either send out a message of love or a message of vengeance and hate. If you, like me, are passionate about music, then I am sure you will understand exactly what I am saying here.


Unfortunately though, I have a pet hate. And that pet hate? People telling me that they like everything. Seriously, if you ever meet me and we end up discussing music (which we will inevitably do) I will be honest and tell you that I love music such as rock, metal, indie, punk and brit pop. I can almost tolerate R&B, don't mind a bit of pop occasionally. Am partial to a bit of jazz from time to time. I do not like music of the garage, hip hop or drum and bass genre, and can't say I have even tried classical, opera or country.
 So when we do get chatting, please don't tell me that you like everything, because that, my friends, is impossible. If you do say that I am likely to ask you if you fancy a bit of Slipknot (one of my top bands) or are partial to a bit of Barry Manilow (one of my Aunts favourite artists) It is very unlikely that a person will have both Iowa and Manilow Magic in their cd collection. The genres of music are vast, and the spectrum is like a rainbow of all the colours and shades in our world. I would bet my last penny that a person would not listen to a track by Rob Zombie then slap on a song containing the dulcet tones of Sir Cliff Richard. An individual will not surely have a touch of Hip Hop and a dash of Modern Jazz on their I-tunes collection. They won't tap their foot to Johnny Cash then wax lyrical about their love for Girls Aloud. 
So if and when we do meet, and I ask you what music you like, tell me honestly, because I like to hear the reasons behind why you like what you like. What makes that track or album your most played. A person passionate about music likes to find others who feel the same way, someone who is happy to go to a music fair and wade through all the cds, someone who has vinyl and limited editions, someone who can tell a story about their choices. It doesn't matter to me if your tastes are poles apart from mine, as life would be boring if we were all the same, it just matters if you tell me that you like everything, because if you do, it is likely I will ask the dj for some Metallica or go to the juke box and fill the room with the soulful sounds of Megadeth followed with some bangin' Motown.


Peace

Be yourself. Well who else can you be?

I have always been one of these people who is not happy with what they see in the mirror, I have wished to be thinner, have smaller breasts, longer legs, firm abs, thicker hair....the list is endless. My tastes in music and the like don't generally conform to popular culture, and my dress sense usually reflects this. I am not one of those women who melts into a pile of goo when walking past a wedding dress shop, and I do not dream of the day I will be tripping down the aisle myself. 
I work with children, which is rewarding but exausting, so as you can imagine, I am not a big bundle of broodiness.  I generally don't embrace all things girly and I suppose I can be seen as an oddbod. 
I used to hate the fact that I didn't feel like I fitted in with the trends, I wished that The Fairy Of Normality would visit me whilst I was asleep and wave her magic wand. I wished I would become one of those girls who loved all things pink and who liked the music that could be heard blasting out of the local nightclubs and bars. A woman who went out in dresses that reflected her femininity, who could totter in sandals, and who constantly checked her make up for any smudges. But in truth this is so far away from who I am that it is almost funny, I hate pink and I love heavy metal music. I can end up looking like Alice Cooper at the end of a good night out and my hair is usually stuck to my face. My attire mostly involves denim skirts or jeans with vest tops or band tee's. Doc Martens, Converses, Vanns and lately Iron Fist heels adorn my feet and usually there is something with a skull design somewhere about my person. 
I have tried to conform so that I blended in with the crowd, and I tried to kid myself that deep down I was happy when doing so, but in truth I wasn't happy, and as a result I was lying to the one person who will always be there no matter what happens, myself. So in the end I decided that I had to be true, and accept who I was warts and all. It was no use wishing that I could swap bodies with someone else, as it was a waste of energy as well as time doing this. So now I accept myself with all my flaws (and trust me there are more than a few) and appreciate what I have. I no longer wish I could be normal, because if I was normal I wouldn't be me. I often make mistakes, can be stupid, sometimes forget things and can be a little nutty, but I'm human and lets be fair, nobody on this earth is perfect. I'd like to think that I love with all my soul and I am generally an honest person. My loved ones mean the world to me, and although I don't always show it, I know my life would be the pits without them. In life I generally give 100% of my efforts, and I don't give up without a fight. If you are an important person in my life I guarantee I will have your back and I will believe in you no matter what. 
 I wouldn't say I was hugely confident or that I love myself and my life, but I now realise that as well as my faults I also have some good qualities thrown in. The whole bundle makes me who I am and I have accepted that I cannot change that. I surround myself with those who accept me as I am, and I in turn accept them as they are. There is enough fakery out there already, don't you think, so lets not add any more to it hey?



 Peace

Grow some balls????? Don't make me laugh!

If I've heard someone use the expression "Grow some balls" once, I've heard it a million times. If I got a pound for every single time I heard the phrase "Man up" I would be a rich woman. If I hear someone else sing "Do it like a dude" I think I may combust with laughter. I am going to throw the cat amongst the perverbial pigeons by saying that these statuses need re-writing, that they are quite frankly a load of old tosh.

Now please be reassured that I am not a man hater who fantasises about going on a frantic male murdering spree. I do not bat for the other team. I do not wish that I could live on a female populated island (well, not often) where males are killed at birth, and nor do I hope that my fella will wake up one morning having undergone a sex change operation in his sleep. This post is not another I hate men mega rant and it's not an attack at the other gender, but it is a status that shouts from the rooftops that women are by far the most resiliant sex.

Ok, I hear you ask, What makes you say this? Well, what happens when a woman gets sick? She gets on with it, she marches through the storm. What happens when a man gets sick? He pretty much dies, and stays in bed with a woe-is-me expression on his face. Which sex goes through the monthly pain of the period drama? Who then goes through pregnancy, usually whilst still holding down a job and running a home, and who gives birth at the end of the said pregnancy then is released from hospital the same day and sent home to get on with it? Men? Oh please? We would be extinct if that was the case.
I am not accusing men of being weak useless souls, nor am I questioning their greater physical strength ( I have occasionally got a said male to carry my shopping home after hitting Sainsbury) but I am heartily sick of hearing the above expressions muttered when a woman occasionally lets her emotions get the better of her. Are we often heard telling our woebegone male counterparts that they should grow some breasts or maybe even a vagina? Of course not! And the reason for this? If they did grow some boobs and a lady garden we would never see them. They would spend three weeks in bed playing with themselves endlessly, then the forth week would be spent still in bed groaning from the inevitable period pains that would follow. They could never figure out the art of putting on a bra, and they would never survive five minutes in heels. They would poke out their eyes when applying mascara, and would never dream of getting their eyebrows threaded. So next time you find yourself wanting to shout the expression "Grow some balls" to someone who is a bit flimsy, stop, think and re-phrase it to "Grow a vagina" Because only then it will then hold some truth.

Peace (To men as well as women)

You don't need to join a gym!

I have recently joined a gym in my local area. It has been on my mind to restart this hobby for quite some time. I used to go with friends when I lived with my mum, and I sometimes also went with my ex when I lived with him. I have made life long friends through the gym and working out had been a big part of my life for quite some time. So  when I decided to get a place of my own, knocking the gym felt like quite a blow. It was an obvious necessity that had to be made, as cutbacks are part of the deal of solo living, but trust me, it was not an easy decision for me to make. So imagine my delight when I found an affordable gym in my area. I joined without a hint of uncertainty, bought a new kit and hit the treadmill with my ipod blaring. But by being open about this, I didn't realise the reactions I would get. I have had more than the occasional well meaning tutts, the shaking of the heads and the woe be gone looks of some of those around me. Someone then said to me that I didn't need to join a gym, and I know they meant it as a compliment, but in honesty it made me quite angry! So it's here that I want to point out that yes, ok, I can fit comfortably into a size 10 pair of jeans, but that does not mean I am in love with my body. I want to clear up that I am not joining the gym because I want to become a skinny mini who has to use a belt to hold up her size 8's. Nor do I want to become a bicep queen. I decided to join a gym because I enjoy it, I also want to make the most of the health benefits by being fitter and more toned.
Surely it is a better hobby than drinking my body weight in beer, or working my way through the local take away menu. I am not going to get fitter by sitting on my backside watching the box, nor will my strength improve by lifting a mug of tea throughout the day. I want to join a gym because, quite frankly, I don't want to watch what I eat. I'd hate to deprive myself of that bar of chocolate or glass of wine for fear it will sit on my hips or stomach for the next decade. I am quite an indulgent character who likes her food and drink, and if I had to cut this out, I would become a moody moo! Going to the gym allows me to treat myself on more than the rare occasion, and it keeps the guilt at bay if I have a pig out. Working on my fitness levels helps me keep my asthma in check, and it helps with my stress levels too. Joining a gym has had many benefits, and they are not just the usual weight loss ones. So if someone you know announces they have joined, I am sure they would rather have your support than be given the third degree. And if you are joining a gym yourself, maybe I will see you on the treadmills or at the weights, but there is a chance I won't hear you approach me, as my ipod will be blaring.

Dancing with destiny

Do you believe in destiny? Things happening for a reason? Is there a path set out for us from the moment we are born? Or is life just a phase of random choices?
I am a true believer in destiny, especially after the year of 2008 where my life changed completely. Had I have known at the time that my life would take on so many twists and turns, maybe I would have been more cautious in my decision making. But looking back, I regret nothing, and I firmly believe that what happened had to happen, exactly as it did, for me to end up where I am right now.

I think of mistakes in the past (and trust me I have made a few) and I think of losses. Dreams being shattered around my feet, promises being broken, feelings being trampled on without any thought of the consequences, and it makes me appreciate the good things in my life. It's a bitter pill to swallow when one realises that the things that shape your present and future include the bad stuff of the past that you may wish never happened. But as I said, I never look back and regret, nor do I hark back to times before and wish I was back there, you cannot change the past or relive it, so I just accept my history for what it is and live in the present.
But wouldn't it be interesting if life could go all Sliding Doors, the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow that was made a few years back? Imagine if you missed the perverbial train? Where would I be right now had the 2008 incident not happened? Interesting question hey? Where would you be right now, had the events that changed your life had never occured at all? It would be fascinating to watch wouldn't it? A personal movie of your alternate life. I know I wouldn't be able to resist having a peek at a version of myself in an alternate reality where me and a certain other had never have met. Where would I be? Who would I be? What would I be doing? It's a sad conclusion that the answers to those questions most probably wouldn't amount to much, and that I would still be the soft touch that I was in my younger years. But I don't dwell on this fact as it is not who I am right now, and I am certain it will never be me again. I am pretty sure that the good friends that I made along the way would still be there, but I can also quite imagine the not so good ones that in this life didn't last, plus a few other new 'not so goods', would be added to the mix.

It's interesting also, because I have made some newer friends recently, ones who I could now never imagine my life being without. A couple of them have said to me that they wish that we had met sooner, but I always tell them that we were not destined to meet sooner, as maybe the lives we led back then didn't give us the common ground that we have now. Destiny played a part in our paths crossing, and due to that, we met when we were meant to meet, exactly how we were meant to meet. It makes me think of the people that faded, or drastically exited out of my life, and again it makes me realise that maybe they were only meant to play a small part. We all have had those people in our existance, the ones that drift in and back out, or leave with such a huge explosion that it takes awhile to clear up the mess. But it's worth thinking that those individuals most probably just have a different destiny to us, and that maybe they have no part in our happier future. Surely it is better to let them go, as maybe they are so different, or so opposed to the way we live our lives, that it would be detrimental to cling on to them in a false hope. Maybe they will return, but maybe they won't, and who knows who we will meet along the way. Without sounding too corny, I believe that after letting go, you can bet that something better will come along that will give new purpose. And from what I have seen in life, this statement usually seems to be true.
Looking at this also makes me realise that life is too short for the 'What if's?' that we are all guilty of contemplating. "What if we had got together?" "What if we had made it work?" "What if I had said what I wanted to really say?" Think about it, what if you were never meant to know the answers to these questions? Or what if you did find the answers and they didn't make things any better. Is it really worth torturing yourself with the "What if's?" in the belief they are the key to a happier you. I honestly don't think so, not anymore, and this in turn has lead me to a path of acceptance, that of myself, of others, and of life, and I sincerely hope that you agree with me on this subject.

Peace