Saturday, 31 October 2009
A friend and I were talking the other night, discussing various things. The conversation inevitably turned to boys. We girls like to talk about boys. "Tell me the top ten things you want in a man", she said. I thought and I thought and then I gave her my list of ten magical qualities.
And then I realised that I'd just described you.
1) Short in stature. Not freakishly short and definintely not shorter than me. But short.
2) Dark hair and features.
3) Hairy. You converted me to the wonder of a hairy chest and gorilla like legs.
4) A wonderful cook and knowledge of good wine.
5) Daft. Silly. Immature on occasion. Able to make me laugh till my sides hurt and tears stream down my cheeks.
6) A good job and a passion for that job.
7) A love of dance music and dancing till dawn occasionally. But also a love of nights in with a good meal, nice bottle of wine and a film.
8) The ability to make the perfect gin and tonic. It's all about the limed rim.
9) A love of British comedy (Peep Show, I'm Alan Partridge, Black Books) and willingness to watch an entire series in one sitting.
10) Geekish tendencies.
See? That's you in a nutshell.
I miss you. I'm probably not supposed to say that, but I do.
I just thought you should know.
PS: I wish you could see me now. I'm more 'me' than I've ever been before. I've become the girl I always told you I was, underneath all the crazy. I knew she was in there.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
An entirely different kind of spinning
It's been four long, salad-filled weeks since my fat realisation and this post. Actually, that's a lie. I don't think I've had any salad at all. I have had more broccoli than you can shake a stick at though. And, save for the week when I was a flu ridden monster, I've been to the gym at least three times a week. Plus, I went spinning last night, which not only enables me to cross off one of my Big 50 (tm) but was also simultaneously the most horrendous and incredible experience of my entire life.
It went something like this...
Five minutes into it I thought I was going to pass out.
Ten minutes into it I thought I was going to be sick.
Twenty minutes into it I nearly fell off my bike.
Thirty minutes into it I suddenly realised that hideous sensation I was experiencing was EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF FAT ON MY BODY JIGGLING AT ONCE.
Forty minutes into it I was convinced death had come for me.
Forty five minutes into it, it was over and I could barely walk.
Two hours later I felt like I was invincible and couldn't wait to go again.
I can honestly say that I've never felt more positive and more determined than I do right now. I know it's going to take me a long long time to be the weight I want to be and, more importantly, to be as fit as I want to be (in a healthy way, not a PHWOOARR way (although that would be nice too)) but I'm going to do it this time. I'm going to keep the diet chat to a minimum on this blog as I know most people aren't really that bothered about whether I've eaten 24 pork pies in the last week or not (I haven't). So I'm just going to do a little update now and again...
Total weight loss: 10 lbs
Number of gym visits in the past week: 3
Number of bad thoughts about food: Absolutely none. I am pumped for healthiness!
Units of alcohol in the past week: 2 (Woop)
Number of impure thoughts about wine: Again, none. Shocking, I know.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Is there anything better in this world than a massive roast dinner?
No, no there isn't. Chicken (including crispy skin, HELLO THIGHS YOU JUST GREW), stuffing, peas, carrots, roast potatoes, leeks and broccoli. Topped with approximately a gallon of gravy and liberal sprinklings of salt and pepper. Heaven on a plate.
As I was leaving work today the sky was turning navy blue and night was beginning to fall. With the losing of the hour comes short days, long nights and a chill in the air. Warm Winter coats are brought out from the back of the wardrobe, favourite scarves are remembered and wrapped round chilly necks, gloves and hats are rediscovered and added to the daily paraphernalia of your average commuter. Gingerbread lattes and cheery red cups make their annual return to Starbucks. Mulled wine becomes an acceptable beverage to drink, at all times of day. It keeps you warm, you see? Therefore it doesn't make you an alcoholic if you imbibe it in all its heavenly spicy glory at 2pm on a weekday afternoon.
I adore Winter. Although it may still technically be Autumn, it doesn't feel like it. I feel the urge to wear old lady slippers, slip on a big chunky cardigan and nestle onto the sofa in front of the fire. I'm already planning Christmas presents and have bought a fair few. It's wonderfully cosy when I get home from work and the smell of dinner has never been so welcome. But still this time of year is terribly hard. Memories of two years ago when everything was new and shiny and exciting. When a text message could send my heart into my throat. Long dinners and even longer lunches. Wine and gin and dancing and laughter. The beginning of falling in love. Within three weeks my heart was already his.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
28, staring me in the face. The swine.
At the moment I seem to be scarily conscious of time passing. The year of 28 approaches like an unstoppable warthog with a particularly inviting piece of lush grass in its gaze. To try and stop it would only enrage it. Nobody enjoys an enraged warthog.
What am I talking about? It's anyone's guess. But, I do have a point, I swear. It's just hard to find amongst the lush grass. Basically, I want to do more stuff. I want to experience things I've never experienced before. So, with that in mind, I've devised a list of 50 things that I want to do before I turn 29. The only rule I gave myself was that they have to be things I've never done before. So, without further ado, I give you....
50 things to do before I turn 29...
1) Live in another country, if only for a couple of months
6) Eat a portobello mushroom with stilton on it (I hate mushrooms but C always promised to make me one that I'd like, so I figure I'll do it myself)
7) Go on a ghost walk
9) Go and hear some jazz at Matt & Phred's.
15) Go to Borough Market (It wasn't open! Next time!)
19) Get a facial (I know, I know. But I've never had one, or done any of the following three)
20) Get a manicure/pedicure (I'm a rubbish girl)
21) Get my eyebrows waxed (No, I really really am)
22) Get a spray tan (Seriously, just change my name to Bob, shave my head and stick me in a pair of dungarees)
23) Learn how to make the perfect lasagne
24) Take a life drawing class
25) Go kickboxing
28) Take at least one photograph of myself every day and upload it to the 365 project on Flickr. This starts tomorrow, once the last remnants of this disgusting cold have left my ravaged body. (FAILED)
- November 2009 - Miike Snow by Miike Snow
- December 2009 - XX by The XX
- January 2010 - Manners by Passion Pit
- February 2010 - Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons
- March 2010 - Lights by Ellie Goulding
- April 2010 - Darwin Deez by Darwin Deez
- May 2010 - Colour The Small One by Sia
- June 2010 - Rules by The Whitest Boy Alive
- July 2010 - The Boxer by Kele
- August 2010 - The Flying Club Cup - Beirut
- September 2010 - Fantasies - Metric
- October 2010 - Happiness - Hurts
33) Watch an opera. Apparently everyone should watch an opera before they die. Any suggestions greatly appreciated.
35) Buy some expensive, frivolous underwear just for me.
36) Go to a yoga or pilates class.
37) Walk up Mount Snowdon.
38) Cook a completely new dish at least once a month.
- November 2009 - Jamie Oliver's Southern Sausage Stew; cupcakes
- December 2009 - Lasagne; gingerbread cake; lamb shanks with piperonata; key lime pie
- January 2010 - Spicy pork meatballs
- February 2010 - Chicken Tikka Masala (from scratch)
- March 2010 - Slimming World chips
- May 2010 - Babybel burger; chocolate chip cookies; king prawn and pea risotto
- June 2010 - Lamb cochifrito
- July 2010 - Raspberry and white chocolate cookies
- August 2010 - Jamaican corn soup
- September 2010 - Blackberry crumb bars
- October 2010 - Treacle toffee; peanut butter & chocolate squares
40) Learn to knit.
41) Learn how to make pastry.
44) Visit the Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
47) Remember each and every one of my friends' birthdays and get them a gift befitting how marvellous they are.
49) Go on the Yellow Duckmarine.
Phew, that was a mission. But there you go, 50 things that, come hell or high water, I hope to have completed before I turn 29. By my reckoning, that gives me about 375 days to complete them which is more than achievable, hopefully. I'm going to put a permanent link to this post in the sidebar and I'll come back and cross things off as I do them.
Go team me!
Friday, 23 October 2009
Alton Towers was...
....incredible, tiring, exhilerating, nauseating, terrifying, full of junk food and sodden. Yes, it rained. No, it didn't really matter. I have a marvellous habit of always getting utterly drenched on the log flume so it made no difference to me and my soggy little shoes.
As it's almost Hallowe'en, t'Towers have got their annual Scarefest on at the moment. This translates into pumpkins dotted around the grounds, haunting hooded figures wandering around and liberal doses of dry ice pumping out from various orifices. Plus a few special attractions that aren't normally there. One of these is called 'Terror of the Towers'. I won't say too much in case anyone's planning on going but basically the story is that the Towers have been cursed and you're being sent in to find on what's going on. Cue confined spaces, pitch black and a bit of strobe lighting thrown in for good measure. Plus a few 'extras'. It was quite literally the most terrifying experience of my entire life and genuinely very scary.
The rides are all open until 9pm during Scarefest and, quite frankly, if you've not been on Oblivion in the dark, you've not been on Oblivion. However, the best thing about the entire day? No, not the Burger King (although I do love me a burger). No, it was the fact there were NO KIDS there. And no kids means NO QUEUES.
10/10 Alton Towers. Well done. C'est magnifique.
Thursday, 22 October 2009
This morning I was going to write about how I'm still a bit ill, but 1000 times better than I was on Monday. I was going to write about how I'm off to Alton Towers today for rollercoasters and merriment and those doughnuts that make you feel sick but that you can't help buying. I was going to write about how I had my first training session at the charity last night and how I'm scared and apprehensive but so so excited.
But then I saw this on LLG's blog, and it made me cry. And it seemed so much more important than anything I have to say this morning...
What a wonderful man.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
If you know me you'll know that I love two things more than anything else in this whole world. 1) Pseduo-documentaries about people with strange diseases/talents and 2) Making lists.
So, I bring you....
Helen's Top 5 documentaries that you shouldn't really laugh at but you just can't help it:
1) I Married the Eiffel Tower - Truly the mac daddy of all TV programmes of this ilk. This programme focussed on objectum-sexuality, ie; people who like to do the nasty with fences, bridges, and even the Berlin Wall. A truly incredible piece of trash TV. At the end of the day, if a woman frotting herself against the Eiffel Tower doesn't fill you with joyous incredulity then you're no friend of mine. If you can find a copy of this online then I implore you to watch it. And then watch it again to convince yourself that you have actually just seen what you think you have.
2) There was an absolutely tremendous documentary on BBC1 (I think) about Narcolepsy. I think it was on in 2003 but I can't be sure. All I do know is that I was at University and me and my housemates recorded it. We then used to watch it virtually every time we got in after a night out. Perfect end-of-the-night viewing if ever I saw it. There was one particularly memorable scene where a lady called Brenda fell asleep in her roast dinner. Incredible.
3) Tourette's: I Swear I Can't Help It - The second BBC programme to focus on Tourette's sufferer, John Davidson. This programme made me cry, laugh and feel guilty for laughing, but then laugh a bit more. John Davidson is utterly loveable and I just wanted to give him a big hug. But I will not apologise for laughing when he shouted 'ARTHUR DALEY' when a lady from the Citizens' Advice Bureau mentioned him needing a minder.
4) Mad but Glad - This was an episode of Horizon that focussed on the fine line between creativity and chaos, focussing on Tourette's and OCD sufferers. You can watch it here and please, I implore you, skip to 39:50 (ish) and watch the bit where the guy adjusts the rear view mirror in the car. Also the bit where one of the men want's to touch the other one's glasses. "That's satisfied now, thankyou". Wonderful.
5) Muscle Worship - This was a Channel 5 'documentary' following a British woman who'd moved to Arizona and started a 'Muscle Worship' business. When she wasn't competing in bodybuilding competitions, she allowed men to book her for personal sessions. Personal sessions that included admiring and touching her muscles and being crushed by her ample thighs. It takes all sorts people, it takes all sorts.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Super ill. Streaming eyes, constant sneezing, a headache so severe it's actually crippling, a hacking cough and oh-so-painful aching limbs. I'm very rarely ill but, when I do get sick, it's always horrific. I don't think it's swine flu. I don't know what it is. But I feel grim. So grim that I actually started crying this morning when I realised that there was no way I could go to work having had less than two hours of sleep. Let's not discuss the fact that I was out raving it up until 6am on Sunday morning. I've already had that lecture from the parents.
I'm really happy at the moment, really comfortable with who I am and where I'm going. But, on days like today, when it's all I can do to hold my head upright, I really really miss him. On days like today, when I feel small and vulnerable, I wish he was at the end of the phone to make me laugh, make inappropriate comments and tell me to stop moaning. On days like today, when I feel pathetic and incapable, I miss driving over to his, getting into bed and being looked after.
He made a mean lemsip, that boy.
Posted by Helen at 4:48 pm
Thursday, 15 October 2009
I went to see 'UP' last night which, if you're not aware (and if you're not, you're no friend of mine, you Philistine you), is the new Disney/Pixar offering. It's the tale of a little old man who decides to fulfil his lifetime ambition by going on a big adventure. In his house. By means of balloons. To put it simply, I adored it with every inch and pore of my body, mind and soul. It was heartwarming and lovely but with a bittersweet edge. I cried twice, I had fits of hysterical giggles at least three times and I spent the rest of the time utterly enchanted. And I mean full-on open mouthed, eyes-wide-with-wonder enchanted.
Go. See it. NOW.
If it doesn't make you smile and leave the cinema with your faith restored in life, love and humanity then you are a cold, hollow husk of a human. Fact. Plus, it's worth the entrance fee just for the short film that's showing before the main feature, 'Partly Cloudy.' And if the picture doesn't below convince you then nothing will. Clouds! Making babies! And baby animals! That's the pinnacle of all that is good and holy for me, right there.
If you could attach balloons to your house and go anywhere in the world, where would you choose?
Right now I'd pick New York (when wouldn't I pick New York?). I'd land my house on top of the Flat Iron building, set up shop and look down on Shake Shack longingly.
I miss burgers. Damn ye diet.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
"So 100 days of continuous occupation of a statue's plinth by 2400 real people has ended. It has changed my life and that of many others. No fewer than 2,400 people from as far afield as the Shetland Islands and Penzance have occupied the plinth for sixty minutes each, picked at random from nearly 35,000 who applied.
Who can be represented in art? How can we make it? How can we experience it? These are questions that have exercised me for years. Whether you see the plinth as a protest or pole-dance platform; studio or stocks; playpen or pulpit; as a frame for interrogation or for meditation, it has provided an open space of possibility for many to test their sense of self and how they might communicate this to a wider world.
- Antony Gormley, October 2009"
So, it's over. One and Other has come to an end, after 100 days of wind, rain, sun, dark, light and cold. What did the the project do for me? Well, first and foremost, it enabled me to raise over £2000 for charity. Secondly, it showed me that I can do anything I put my mind too. Thirdly, it gave me the confidence to be proud of myself and who I am, right here and now in 2009.
Thankyou One and Other, you were spectacular and I'm honoured to have been a part of you xx
Posted by Helen at 9:44 am
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Today I am all about the new stuff...
1) Kill It Kid CD and sweets from the wonderful Lis.
2) Those shoes. Oh yes, I bought them and I will be mostly wearing them with patterned tights and a smirk on my face, whilst kicking leaves in the air and singing along with my iPhone. Deal with it.
3) 'Dream big and believe' moleskine from tuesday afternoon tea. I love this whimsical little etsy shop. In particular these mittens make me wee a little bit.
4) Bunny t-shirt! With bunnies on it! BUNNIES!
Monday, 12 October 2009
1) Poros 2) View from my room 3) Glastonbury 4) Ibiza
Me at 27...
Too loud. Too talkative. Too rude. Too sensitive. Too excitable.
I turn 28 in three weeks. Three weeks on Wednesday to be precise and I'm a little nervous. 28 has always been my 'scary age'. The age by which I thought I'd be married, maybe have children, definitely have my own house and a career to be proud of. So, married? Nope. Kids? Hell no. My own house? Again, nope. A career to be proud of? I'm getting there. 0.5 out of 4. E-. Could do better.
Or could I?
I've done more things this year that I'm proud of than ever before in my entire life. I've done, and am about to do, things that scare me, things that take me out of my comfort zone and challenge me. I've been accepted as a volunteer for a well known charity and I start my training next week. It's probably going to be the toughest thing I've ever done, and that includes learning to drive (I had about 70 hours of lessons. Yes, really), doing my law degree (I failed second year twice. Yes, really) and joining, and learning to love, the gym (I hadn't exercised in years. Yes, really). It's going to be emotionally draining, horrifying, upsetting and, hopefully, incredibly rewarding.
So, as the sun sets on yet another year, who am I? I laugh too much, make inappropriate jokes, make up songs and sing them to death. I like cheese too much. I listen to songs that I love on repeat until I don't love them anymore. I can't eat a meal without spilling it down me. I wear ridiculous jewellery and brightly coloured clothes. I fall in love too easily and put up with too much. I cry when I think about the thousands of people in this world who are incredibly lonely. I love pigs and hippos and warthogs. I make a thousand resolutions a day (and I'm learning to keep them). I'm loyal and caring and buying gifts for people is one of my favourite things to do. I dance in my car on the way into work in the mornings. I take the mickey out of the people I adore. I hate mushrooms, aubergines and coriander. I love New York City, Manchester, the Lake District and Nottingham.
At 27 I'm finally a person who believes in herself, who loves herself and who knows where she's going. I know my faults, my strengths and my weaknesses and I'm working on them every day.
At 27, I guess I'm finally happy. Bring it on, 28.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
1) I've had a euro 50 cent coin in my purse for weeks, probably months, now.Every time I see the little glint of tarnished gold I think it's a pound coin and dig it out to try and pay with it. Every time I see it's not a pound coin I get irritated. JUST TAKE IT OUT OF YOUR PURSE HELEN.
2) Whenever I'm listening to music on my iPhone and a particularly poignant song I imagine that I'm in a film and that music is the soundtrack. Particular favourites for this include 'You Got the Love' by Candi Staton and 'A Thousand Nights' by Gregor Tresher. It happened in the gym yesterday while I was on the treadmill. I am truly bizarre.
3) I cannot sleep in past 7.30am if I've been drinking the night before. This irritates me no end. No matter what time I go to bed I always wake up at 7 bloody 30. On occasion I do manage to drift off again but mostly I just lie there seething and then eventually kick off the duvet in a grump and get up.
4) I've lost six pounds in the last ten days (yes, I've looked down the back of the sofa, smartarse) and am feeling sprightly, slimmer and much more alert. My skin is also as clear as a very clear thing, which is nice. Best of all, for the first time ever in my whole life I simply don't want to eat junk food. This has never happened before and it frightens me, in a good way.
5) My hair is getting ridiculously long. Long and black and witchy. This, combined with my milky white complexion, means that I'm starting to resemble Morticia Addams. Or Cher. If I start wearing glitter, spandex, fringing or head-dresses please call someone immediately.
Posted by Helen at 11:33 am
Friday, 9 October 2009
P wrote 'I ♥ H' on a table in salt once. TRU LUV.
I met up with an ex of mine last night, P. Do you still call someone an ex when it's been four years since they stopped being the university boyfriend you grew up with? Or do you call them a friend? Almost seven years have passed since I first met him. He was 18, I was 21 (cradle robbing harlot that I was). We were together for almost three years. Three incredibly happy years filled with South Park, wrestling obsession (him, not me), Family Guy, music that I would never have listened to given the choice (Hi Cradle of Filth, how's you?) but that I ended up developing a soft spot for, drunken nights in Nottingham, our university town, and... love. Lots of love.
But, on seeing him last night, I realised the type of love we had. He was the boy that saved me from the depths of depression. Depression caused by cancer, university failure, an awful car crash and a terrible break up with a previous boyfriend. He was my saviour, the light of my life. The one who swooped in in his baggy jeans, his dyed black hair, his lip ring, his sweet, wonderful good-hearted nature and brought me back to life. And I loved him for that. I thought I loved him more than anyone I would ever meet.
But, you know what? That love was only the tip of a big love shaped iceberg. It was only a fraction of what love can truly feel like. And, looking back, I think the devastation I felt was more because it meant that my life as I knew it was over. The end of that relationship meant that I had to grow up, make some decisions and actually make a future for myself, away from the student bubble that we'd made for ourselves. Yes, I was devastated. But so was he. We both cried and mourned and wished it could have been different. But he never let me down. Never. No matter where our lives have taken us, he's always been there in the background, a distant yet constant presence. He's one of the good ones, that boy.
Seeing P was wonderful, in so many ways. He's still sweet, wonderful and good-hearted. He's still daft and dopey and silly. And I wouldn't have him any other way. Or, for that matter, change the three years we spent together.
I'm so happy that I get to call him a friend.
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Who doesn't want a currant bun mask, seriously?!
Because I am a lazy little piggy and my brain is incapable of forming coherent sentences today (yes, I am still catching up with the weekend, I'm old, ok?) (I really am old, I just bought some fluffy slippers from Marks and Spencer) (I heart parenthesis), I shall copy PJB and Smidge and do a meme. WHOOPAH!
Current Book (s): I have a confession. For someone who loves to write, I really don't read very much.I am currently half way through the following: The Island (started in Greece, July 2008), One Fifth Avenue (started in NYC, April 2009) and We Need to Talk About Kevin (started countless years ago). And those are just off the top of my head, there are probably at least ten more. I am a terrible person but Closer entices me with it's trashy gossip and shame inducing real life stories. I hang my head in disgrace.
Current Playlist: See here. Basically anything with a filthy beat, a female vocal or a rave piano. I adore rave piano. And trumpets. And cow bells. More cow bells please.
Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure: Running In Heels and the Real Housewives of New Jersey. I can't help it. I adore all that shizz.
Current Colour: Electric blue. That's the colour of my room.
Current Fetish: Wasabi peas and San Pellegrino.
Current Drink: Green tea and ice cold water. Always and forever.
Current Food: Subway. Sub of the Day has been my friend this week. Always with double jalapenos plus lots of hot sauce. I am a fiery minx.
Current Favorite Show: Right now it's the new Criminal Justice thats on BBC1. Oh, and the wonderfully mesmerising Flash Forward too. First episode = best ending to anything ever.
Current Wishlist: These shoes. Massive love. They make me want to kick autumn leaves in the air and wear jazzy tights. Which are two of my favourite pastimes.
Current Needs: An explanation. Forgiveness. Clarity. Another chance. A clean slate. I don't need anything material, I have everything I need.
Current Triumphs: I've still got major chufties about my Plinth experience to be honest. Raising over £2000 for charity feels pretty good.
Current Bane(s) of my Existence: Coriander. Always and forever.
Current Celebrity Crush: I've developed a disgusting obsession with Gerard Butler. I can't help it. He is delicious and I'd like to spread him on a cracker.
Current Indulgence: Nothing, sadly. Healthy eating has rendered snacking verboten. Pistachio nuts, wasabi peas and carrot sticks are my new indulgences. Grim times.
Current #1 Blessing: The fact that my Dad's PSA has reduced from 28 to 1.6. Which basically means that the hormone therapy is reducing his testosterone. Which in turn means that the cancer can't feed off it. Which in turn means that the chemo should be able to kick the cancer's ass. I feel very blessed by a lot of things right now though. Which is nice.
Current Slang or Saying: "That is everything to me". I use it at least 20 times a day. A lot of things are everything to me, it would seem.
Current Outfit: I'm at work. I am however having a fancy day so am wearing this tunic from Dotty P's, some patterned tights from M&S and these shoes. Nom.
Current Excitement: Life in general.
Current Mood: Happy, tired, befuddled and egregious. "Are you an egregious person? Do you have an egregious personality?" (I'm not really egregious, I just like the League of Gentlemen more than your average bear)
Current Link: itmademyday.com. I like little moments of WIN, they make my day ever so joyful.
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
Today I am mostly dressed like a lumberjack on crack.
I am wholeheartedly embracing virtually every trend going. All in one look. I enjoy looking like a jumble sale, deal with it. I know the world and his wife owns this Christopher Kane x Topshop tshirt but I don't give a rat's ass. Comfiest. Thing. Ever.
Sunday, 4 October 2009
And so the Glastonbury circus begins once more....
A mere 97 days since the end of the last one, the frantic scrabble began for tickets at 9am this morning (although you could actually buy them from about 8.50am). Some people are still trying to get them now. Poor souls.
Tickets were booked by 8.55am and we were then free to enjoy our hangovers in peace, with the help of Paris Hilton's My New BFF, Running In Heels and Coronation Street. Ah, perfect Sunday morning television. Only trash can ward of the effects of 4 hours sleep, too much cider and too much dancing in high heels. However, on checking my email I seem to have received two different confirmation emails. Yes, that's right folks. My ticket buying skillz are so potent that I managed to do the impossible and order two for myself. Now if only phoning See Tickets was easier than birthing a small calf then I might be able to cancel the erroneous order and let someone else buy the ticket.
Only 261 days to wait now. Sigh.
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Things I miss today, in no particular order:
- Reading the b3ta newsletter in bed with coffee, juice and lots of laughter.
- Walks in Sefton Park. Spring, Summer, Winter, Autumn. It's lovely no matter what the season and was the setting for many a deep and meaningful conversation. It was also the scene of an 8am stroll after a night out which culminated in nearly falling asleep under a willow tree. Truly one of the loveliest experiences ever.
- Friday night food and wine. Trips to Tesco and Asda for ingredients. Cooking together. Me not being allowed to stir the food in case I messed it up. Pretending that I wanted to help when really it was lovely to be cooked for by my very own little chef.
- Making plans for the future. Day trips. Weekends away. Formulating life plans. Talking about hopes and dreams and fears. Just talking actually. Nights spent talking about anything and everything, never running out of things to say.
- Nights spent clubbing. Having my own personal DJ before we went out. Who also made the most perfect gin and tonics. The secret? You've always got to lime the rim. The coach ride to Manchester. The dancing. The laughing.
- Even more than the actual night out, the following day spent with wine and the duvet. Our favourite TV shows, endlessly on repeat because we were usually to busy talking or laughing to actually watch them. And on those wondrous duvet days, being treated like a princess. He wouldn't let me do anything for myself. Always fetching me drinks and food and anything else I wanted. Stroking my hair if I felt poorly and putting his arms around me.
- The feeling that I was with someone who would never judge me, no matter what I told them. Someone who would hold me when I was sad and pick me up when I was fallen. I've never felt so comfortable and so close to anyone in my whole life.
- The fact that we liked everything the same. And I mean everything. But, even more, the fact that we disliked all the same things too. Like two peas in a pod we were. Two very daft little peas.
- Being ordered for in restaurants. Letting him pick the wine and loving the fact that he actually knew what he was talking about.
- The way he used to fall asleep with his hand clenched round a chunk of my hair and a little smile on his face. I've never felt more happy and content in my whole life than when things were peaceful and easy and all was well.
Was it really all a sham? Was it really meaningless? Because I was there. I was there for all of it. And I don't believe that it was. It was real and wonderful and challenging and passionate and difficult and frustrating and happy and sad and a million and one other emotions. But that's what love is.
And, as happy as I am with myself these days, I'm absolutely terrified that I'll never feel those things again. That I won't be able to let myself love someone again. That I'll never let someone in the way I did with him. That I'll never again find the other half of me. That person who fitted perfectly with me and made a whole.
This post was brought to you today by a stonking hangover, an hour spent looking at old photos and reminiscing and a fear of ending up alone.
Friday, 2 October 2009
I am, almost quite literally, bouncing off the walls today. It's actually a little bit sickening how chirpy I am. That's what healthy eating, lots of sleep and a new outlook on life can do for you, apparently. I've never really believed in epiphanies before. That one moment that changes everything. But I seem to have experienced one. It seems that only by accepting yourself for who you really are, only by facing your demons, your insecurities and your weaknesses can you truly set yourself free from them.
Have you heard me?! Preachy McPreacher of Preachville. Ha. I think I need to have a word with myself.
Tonight I'm off for cocktails, dinner and wine with the lovely Tash. We will mostly be at Trof, eating (although I'm going to try and find something relatively healthy, honest), drinking, gossiping and (most likely) sexually harassing at least one barman. This will be followed by a train journey home in which I will befriend the nearest person and talk their ear off. Yes, I become one of 'those people' when drunk. So sue me.
Have a wonderful, thigh-jangling (I don't know either), hell-raising weekend, won't you?
PS: I done gone and got one of them thar Tumblr things. You can find it here. Expect pictures of pigs in top hats, links to pretty things that I can't afford and sentimental tosh. Hurrah. Bonus points for anyone who knows where I got the name from. It's a tricky one.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
I'm having a really tough week at work. Office politics. Difficult clients. Etc. Etc. That, combined with the fact that my Dad's got another chemo session tomorrow and a couple of other little things, was enough to make me have a little cry last night. The strange thing was that, in the midst of my tears, I suddenly realised that I couldn't remember the last time I cried. For me, a former turning on the waterworks enthusiast, that was a bit of a shock.
When did the tears stop?
When did I stop crying every night on the drive home from work?
When did songs laden with with platitudes of never ending love and devotion stop reducing me to a heap of watery devastation?
When did I become happy?
I can't pinpoint the moment when things changed. I can't point to a certain event or happening that caused the shift. I don't know when my natural expression changed from being a sad, anxious frown to a wry, quietly content smile. But it did. Now, instead of spending my days worrying about infidelity and lies and someone else's problems, my head is filled with plans and hopes and dreams for me. I've never felt more positive and more sure of myself and my own abilities than I do right now, right this moment.
I can achieve anything I want. And I will.