Reality meets Blogging

Blogging and reality have been crossing over recently, and it seems to be no bad thing.


I never knew if anyone would ever use the 'contact me' button, or why I even added it really, but it's been there a while. Sometimes leaving a comment below a post just doesn't fit.

I've had kind words from Stacia by email, IT advice from Vextasy and a few other surprise messages here and there. Each has been personal, supportive and helpful in very different ways.

Over the past couple of days Kim (over at Ramblings of the Bearded One) and I have been in touch about his exhibition. This has meant letting him know my name, and allowing him to see who I am and what I do. It's likely that I will now be bold enough to cross that line, visit the gallery and say hello to the man himself rather than simply leaving random comments on his blog.

The line is a little more blurred than it once was, and it's ok. There are still only three 'real' people who know where my blog is, but others know it exists.

My sister has for many years met new friends around the world courtesy of Lonely Planet's thorn tree forums, residents hosting or welcoming travellers as they pass through. I always thought this was a bit odd. A bit risky too. But, people are generally good rather than bad. She has made lifelong friends with some of these and even been to one wedding. I had one of her internet friends as a lodger for six months. A wonderful late middle aged American radiographer who played blues guitar and told tales of being at Woodstock in his teens. He met his wife because this travelling gathering of like minded souls.

She has become part of community, and so have I. I no longer think it's weird or risky. I posted a while back about feeling like part of an alternative community, and I am pleased that this – despite its virtual nature - seems to be solidifying and real connections being formed.



PS Stacia – when you make it to the UK, I'll walk with you a while.

Sometimes...

....I just wonder when it's going to be ok. When I am going to be ok?

Every time I get close I feel like I am being sucked back into a void where I don't really know who I am, dragged down by the priorities of others, by my morphine filled mother's illness, by the weekly losses endured by the relentless journey of my father's alzheimer's, by fears that paralyse me into inactivity, by one more man who fails to treat me with respect, by another hope dashed.

In theory, I know it's up to me to make me happy, but being a carer sucks so much of my energy, fighting with my demons and work do too. Sometimes there's not so much left over to give me the energy to try any harder.

Perhaps one day I will belive in me, and I will do more than exist.

The Fridge - A Portrait

I've had these magnets for years, and things I know i'll forget when I go shopping are added to the fridge. The veg, milk etc I buy regularly never make an appearance. I still manage forget or overlook the list regularly. I was hugely amused by my fridge this weekend, when I realised it looked the the shopping list of a 1950s housewife! With the exception, perhaps, of the chilli and noodles. I don't know if I've ever had to buy a mop before, they've somehow always just appeared in my life....where from, who can remember?

The top half has some daft 'bodice ripping', 'literary' magnets that were a present (featuring a sabre toothed tiger, pirate ship, and a moist grotto) a gym timetable, gig flyer and taxi numbers stuck on.

Every time I have folk round I inevitably wake up the next morning to find all sorts of messages, filthy tales, and general nonsense. The boys tend to make as many rude words as possible. I suspect our fridges say as much about us as our bookshelves, choice of clothes or any other of our accoutrements! What does yours say about you?

A rant on bad manners

Today I am pissed off and tired. My next neighbour had a party for her daughter's 17th birthday last night, and I came home to drunk teenagers in the stair well and someone being sick outside my bedroom window. Lovely. Given that I was arriving home at 2.30am, no judgement was passed! Safe to say, not much sleep was had though. So, tired and grumpy as a result.


Grumpy also because three people over the course of the weekend have bailed out of plans. I had a lovely dinner last night with old school friends visiting home for the weekend, but the rest of the weekend's plans have been a write off. It's just rude and inconsiderate. I understand that people's plans change, and there are things need occasionally need to take priority. But, today I'm sitting here doing my accounts instead drinking coffee and lunching and catching up. I had been looking forward to a social weekend after a hard going week. It rather feels like it's easier to let me down than other people. Maybe I need to stop being nice, understanding and accommodating of others' whims and priorities. Arghh!

At least I know tonight's music and chat will be fun.

Rant over.

A year and a thank you

I've been neglecting my blog a bit due to wishing to escape my computer as quickly as possible at the end of some very long days. But today I can't let pass without marking it.


It is a year today since I left work. I walked out of the office, not wanting fuss or bother, sad and nervous about the future.

I'd taken a huge step. I could have fought it, but instead put my hand up and said 'I'll go'. I negotiated hard over my redundancy, buying myself some time and a little security in an uncertain world.

I think there have been two things that have surprised me, and made me happier than I'd expected of this past year. Firstly, I hadn't quite realised how determined I could be, how stubborn in the face of all I worked towards crumbling around me. I decided to be brave, fight, take some risks. I'm still not quite earning as much as I was, but doing well enough and life's pace is more manageable, flexible and pleasant.

The other is finding one of the best friends I think I've ever had, right under my nose.

My friend Tash (Violet Sands) was made redundant shortly before me, and shortly before me she'd also crumpled. I've known her more than five or six years through volunteering with young people. We'd always got on, but things changed very quickly once we started talking redundancy, the future, hopes, dreams, work, counselling, new worlds.

Without her, I'm not sure I would have come as far as I have. And, I know it goes both ways.

We're two single thirty-something freelancers in the not for profit world (she's an artist as well, clever girl). Although she lives about an hour away, she is probably more present in my life than anyone else.

We speak almost every day, a morning phone call instead of the chat over the kettle with a colleague. We listen to each others ups and downs, proof read work, share ideas, refer clients, eat Chinese, check the other hasn't hit the 'snooze' button once too often, laugh, cry. Cry some more! Then laugh about it....

She is one of only three 'real' people who has ever read my blog. So, Tash, thank you for everything.

To friendship, lives lived differently and the future.

Exhausted. Head and heart.

I'm shattered after the fortnight from hell.

Huge work deadlines, continuing saga of the sister's grumpy boyfriend impacting the rest of the family now and has us arguing rather than supporting each other. The exhausted me hasn't helped the situation at all and compounds all my fears and insecurities.

Big day today in getting work moved forward, presentations etc. I feel like I've been on some crazy job interview. The rational me knows I'm good at what I do. The tired emotional me feels like a fraud and is terrified of everything falling to pieces. Doubting myself and my abilities.

Even the fun stuff feels like hard work and I'm longing for the security of having an employer whilst knowing the freedom of the freelance life makes me happier.

I can't think straight or take an objective view. It all feels like it's my fault (whatever 'it' is), that I'm not good enough. The devil on my shoulder is shouting way louder than the angel can compete with.

I know it will pass. I know it will be OK. But tonight? I'm not OK. Maybe I just need to write it out of my system.

UK vs US Dating Etiquette continued.....

Well, I'm off out o a date with a second man in less than a month. This is a whole new thing for me - just trying and testing out different models! Seems I am learning from our American cousins.


It all feels very un-British, but why not? I usually take these things far more seriously but it appears that there's something in the air at the moment.

Maybe I need to develop some kind of scoring system....ooh, what an awful thought!

Having said that, it's good to get out and meet new people, learn to say 'thank you' to compliments, enjoy different conversation and challenge myself a little and discover that there are some good people out there.

Maybe the Americans have got it sussed after all....ask me on Thursday! Candidate 2 – bald human rights lawyer. Excellent.

Faces and optical illusions

Kim's recent post Are you scared of your face? has got me reflecting on my own visage, image, whatever. I have been following the comments with interest and there is huge variation in responses; some realistic and accepting, some unsure and self conscious, some curious and so on.

The years are written on my face. I know this. There are lines beginning to make themselves more present, creases of laughter and frowns. Which is more recognised in my face by the rest of the world?

When I look in the mirror I see the scar from a broken nose, the drier skin and beginning to age neck, eyes that are searching for signs of hope or beauty and instead wondering what was there before.

Sometimes, rarely, I catch myself in the mirror and think 'You look ok. Smile.'

Photographs show me 'me', but this is not who I see. I see the little untidy girl who cannot smile properly because of once crooked and damaged teeth. I see a little girl who wanted to be pretty and knows she is not.

I have no idea how others see me, would I want to know? Yes, perhaps I would.

I would like to understand how I appear to others. I would like to see me as I am. I would like an image of me that I see as real and true of both the physical and emotional, and perhaps celebrates. I would like to find the joy and depth in my face.

Can I, will I? Can any of us?

A day when the worms are winning....

Today is not a good day. An early morning counselling session has left me struggling.

Over the past few weeks we've been reviewing everything from the beginning, in order to figure what still needs to be faced, head on, no putting it off, plan of action required.

I've looked at the lists, heard words that I wrote at the beginning and I know that I've moved on from. I recognise them but feel differently now. I've achieved a huge amount. But....today's 'to do' list is hard. It's the stuff that has held me back always, and will be the hardest to confront.

It reminds of my greatest fears.

It's a day when I feel that I deserve nothing and that I know that I don't know how to accept kindness or love. A day that I will look at anyone who's offering their support and think that they are are mad.

I am sad and scared.

It's the stuff that I'm scared to dream about or want for my future, because it all feels so very far away and I know how much work I have to do to get there. I will do it.

Today I am glad I'm here on my own because I suspect if someone said the wrong thing, tried to be too nice to me or told me how to feel, or pressed an old button I would probably push them away, cry or scream.

It's a day when someone could easily be a target for all my hurt, anger and fear. It's a day when I all really need is a hug and to be listened to and to feel safe.

It's a day when someone would have to be hugely patient, and see past the ugly words and know that they are looking at a hurt little girl.

It's a day when I must do this for myself.

I have too much work to do and I can't concentrate. I will try. I must.

Uk vs US - Dating Dos and Don'ts.....

Being a single 30 something girl can be an interesting exercise at times! What I've been wondering though is if our American cousins have a much healthier attitude to the whole dating game than we Brits do?


It seems normal in the US to date more than one person at a time until a situation becomes exclusive, but the idea of doing the same here seems inappropriate and a big cultural difference. Guys don't just ask girls out as a routine thing. If we were seeing more than one person at a time, it would be slightly frowned upon. However, I think there has to be a benefit to this.

It would stop us getting to hung up on one person until we knew them better, and then a decision could be made before leaping into exclusivity. The idea of seeing multiple men would give choice, balance and perspective. I think we put too much pressure on ourselves and others, following rules that often don't make much sense but are part of the 'etiquette'. There will always be an expectation of exclusivity without even considering if that's what we want, and how many opportunuties are missed because we're less honest, forward and open to exploring the options? What can we learn from our cousins across the pond? What are the pros and cons? Is one way easier than another? I don't know.

I think it'll always be a challenge and a gamble no matter the geography.