Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Wise words Bob



We spend too long focussing on what we don't have, what someone doesn't have and we forget to be thankful, grateful for what is there, what we do have, what they do bring to the table!

Will you be proposing?



So it's the 29th February - girls are 'allowed' to propose to their boys.
Yep that's the reason to do it, sure thing. Insert the rolling of my eyes.
And a note to celebrities - being together 6 months and saying you are getting married because you've been talking about it together for 'ages' hahahaha coughjlocough um you've only been together 6 months that's not ages! So pah whatevs lady. Anyway - it all takes work - sometimes the longer you are with someone the more work you have to put in to keep it new, fresh and fun. You have to make time for them and for yourself - don't suffocate and don't compromise yourself, compromise but just not yourself. Settle down but don't settle.
If it's right to propose who cares what the date is.
If it's never right to propose who cares what society says!

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Bringing the outdoors in!



I've always wanted a tree house but I've also wanted a tree in my house. It started when I was little with the whole Magic Faraway Tree thing and (if you haven't read that book you should change that fact no matter what age or sex you are but make sure you don't buy the book that has the name of one of the girls changed to Frannie!), I then was taken to a pub that had a vine growing through the room with proper grapes growing on it, and I thought that was lovely. Then I saw a house that had a tree in it that was incorporated into stairs - it's amazing and it's another thing to add to the Ali I Want list!

Be nice to me and I'll be nice to you



It's about my only rule in life.
OK that's a lie.
But about humans, it's one rule I really stick to.
The older I get the more people annoy me.
There is a lot of badness in human beings but there is also a lot of good.
I like to focus on the good.
If you are nice to me I will be nice to you.
Simples.

Hear me!



I am a good person.
I have the odd tantrum but generally I am a good person.
If you ever think I've said anything bad then you are probably wrong.
Many don't take the time to ask you what you mean.
I would say nine times out of ten if you misunderstand me it's not my problem - you only have to ask!

Rainbows in your head!



Wishy washy mermaidy rainbow hair.
I like!

When does Kitsch become crap?



I think I can still just about get away with it here.
There are many things on first look I like then I waver and wonder if it's bordering on the crap then I decide I like it.....still not sure but many cool things border on that thin line between kitsch and crap - just like madness and genius!

Mirror mirror on the wall....oh!?



How many times do you get dressed up and feel good then go out and have a nice time, still feeling ok, you go to the toilet - you look in the mirror and you walk back out with your head hung low and your confidence is trailing below your handbag.
Something about the lighting in a pub of course nothing to do with how you actually look.
Wouldn't it be better if they just put messages like this in instead!

Advice for the young at heart?



We've probably all felt a little shy or a little tongue tied as a kid haven't we, felt a little nervous on our first day in a new job but somehow when you become and adult you are just meant to be ok - you are meant to be witty and charming and have an endless supply of conversation starters and that's how life is.
Advice is out there for teens but you don't find much out there for the adult that needs help.
When you see how many people out there are on anti-depressants or are seeking medical help or are cowering in their rooms strangulated by phobias I think it's about time an advice column was set up for those basic 'teenage' issues that follow you into adulthood and can creep up on you when you really think you've got it all together.

For me I've always been a bit unsure of myself. I had a childhood where I was brought up being told I couldn't, shouldn't and can't rather than you can do anything child, it is what it is, but it does mould you. I grew into my own person and spread my wings and got over many hurdles. Then someone tried to crush them all. Their problem, not mine, but that's the thing - some of those insecurities have stayed. I have a total phone phobia, I used to love having long like 3 hour long calls all the time on the phone with friends, but now when it rings my heart is in my mouth and I run the other way. I have this overwhelming urge of never feeling good enough, of feeling ugly. You can't just get over these things, you can't just brush them aside, and it's hard for people to understand. Those that know me think I am ridiculous for thinking such things about me and say the sweetest things to me, those that don't know me no doubt think I am awkward or maybe even rude, but if they only knew.
To walk into a crowded room - well once upon a time someone said I did it with such enthusiasm making everyone feel so welcome - but now - inside I am ready to puke. My ego tells you to look at me, all of you, everyone in the room look at me, but then you do and my heart stops, my throat swells and I wonder what is wrong with me.
I am sure, in fact I am positive I am not alone here.
When this world is putting more and more pressure on people and more and more people are cracking I think we should all losen up a little and learn to talk and help each other and know it's ok to not feel great all the time and to sometimes, as an adult, to need a helping hand.

Monday, 27 February 2012

Love the one you're with!

So I moved to London and I went out.
That could be the end. There is so much story telling behind that sentence.
The nights we had, oh how we laughed, sang, cried, got drunk, got into trouble, fell about. It was fun with a capital big fat F.
It was Fun, it was fast, it was furious, it was fabulous, but it was also fickle.
You end up knowing so many people but you don’t really ‘know’ most of them at all.
We’d spend our nights downing vodka in my kitchen, then heading out for cheap beer before the club really got going. Then we’d smoke my Ziganov cigarettes. God we were SO cool.



It was the days before cheap fashion. There was no Primark, Topshop was around but not really in the league it is today. You’d have to make your own looks. Vivienne Westwood would be proud. It was in those days where scouts would be around looking at the kids to see what they were wearing then steal it and try to sell it back to them in a much bigger way than they do today.
Saturday day time would be spent scouring Camden market for dresses and accessories, make up would be mixed up and used however you felt, if you wanted red lipliner eyeliner so be it – or lipliner lightening blots down your face so be it – it was unusual back then.



We’d go out – we’d pout, we’d preen, we’d dance and dance and dance, people would take photo’s.

(My 3 stooges)




I ended up with many photos in Japanese Fashion Magazine’s, which suited me as my ego would be stroked but I wouldn’t actually have the pain of seeing the photos themselves. Some things never change, I still hate to see a photo of myself.

Some things haven’t changed but some things really have.

I’m in contact with the people that matter from those days. But some of us, well, we no longer hang out.
We all went to the forest and took different paths.
Some might join again who knows, we don’t, I don’t.
So for now – I walk along that path I chose or the path that was chosen for me.
I did things that I don’t understand, I didn’t want to do them. The day I had to leave the Munster flat killed me, something in me died a little. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. My flatmate and good friend was the other side, pretty much doing the same. The train ride up there I told the person that I hated him for what he’d done……things never got better, they got a lot, lot worse. I don’t forgive and I don’t forget but I do move on, he is not worth my tears and he does not get them.
I moved back.
‘Back’! I always say you should never go back but always move forwards but my time was not done with this great city.

And here I am. ‘Back’ in that great city but what a different life.
I don’t live for the night anymore. I can’t turn up to work on 2 hours sleep still rather hammered from the night before if we’re being honest here.
Age, life….it all catches up with you. You can go into denial which is no good to anyone or you can realise it’s time to move on and do that in a dignified fashion.

It’s that figure of 8 thing again.

I’d hate to be doing the same thing now as I did then. I loved those times. They were the best times ever. But humans are meant to grow and evolve.
Now I write. I didn’t have time to do that before, I would never have done it if I was still living that life. I may never get published but I am having fun, and someone, somewhere, one day will enjoy those words I have written, I am sure.
I take photos. I blog. I make my own clothes. I read. I spend time with the people that matter in ways where I can actually hear them talk and learn things about them. My social group is now small. But the people in it are varied and life feels rich for having them in it.
I love this city but the older I get the more I dislike the people in it more and more.
I hate the rudeness of many.
I hate the competition when you go out – the death stares from insecure girls, the inappropriate hitting on you just because you are a breathing female moments, the horrible night bus journey’s home. The streets that no longer feel safe at night, or maybe I am more sober or more aware of the dangers around me. Back then I’d walk home in any old state, without a care in the world. I survived a stalker and a knife being pulled on me, but now I don’t want to even contemplate such things. Back then I was so seen to be scene, or scene to be seen.

Now I am me. Don’t try to work me out or fit me in a box, I’ll just do something to confuse you. I am nothing special, I am just me, but I’ve listened to my life, and learned a lot, I was ill for some years, there is nothing like that to make you introspective, to make you wake up, to make you look at life, to make you change, to make you know what to value.
So now, here I am in a life that has less glitter but more sparkle. I know what I mean by that sentence, I hope you do too.
I spend my time writing, reading, going for walks, spending time in the great outdoors, enjoying all that nature has to offer, I have weekends away, I hang out with friends, I watch films and stupid cartoons, I drink, I get drunk, sometimes I fall over, even without the help of the drink. The only thing that’s changed is that I gave up that ‘scene’……..it wasn’t a healthy scene but it was fun. It is a book and a half to tell and maybe one day I will.
For now, I am happy being the quieter version of me. (Yeah my friends will laugh at that one but I promise you, you think I talk a lot now, you should’ve met me then!). I am happy being friends with someone because they have a good heart and are a kind person and something makes us connect, they don’t have to have a certain angle of cheekbone to be my friend. I don’t care if your clothes are Marni or Primark. If you have a good heart that is more likely to win me over.
I feel another chapter of my life is upon me and I am waiting patiently to greet it with open arms.



So what am I trying to say?

That life changes, some things you are happy to have change and some things hurt but you come through the other side. You survive. None of us know what is in store, but roll with the punches, and learn from the mistakes. Pick yourself up, dust yourself down and try again, or try another way. Life is to be lived and it is to be explored. Some people are in your life for a long time, some for a few fleeting moments, not everyone that comes into your life is meant to stay, sometimes those that fly and those that stay can be quite a shock, but all the same, not everyone is meant to stay - it's not a bad thing, and doesn't have to end badly, just be open to what life has to offer. Be kind and hope that people will be kind back, if they aren’t move on, there are plenty of other people out there – you don’t need to stick to the bad ones. When things feel impossible know they are not, you are missing something , not learning the right lesson, be open to the world and make your little patch of earth as nice and as happy as can be. If we all did that simple little thing – what a wonderful world this would be.

Friday, 24 February 2012

Round and round we go



See the good in others.
And my personal favorite....continue to grow and evolve.
How many of us get stuck in a figure of 8 - going round and round our lives on repeat - quite often not even realising it.
We get stuck with the same hair colour, the same hair style, the same fashion sense, go to the same places, hang out with the same people....whilst it's good to have some familiar stable things in life it's vital to mix it up a little now and then.

Turtles



That's pretty much all I have to say on this.
Best thing about Nemo - the baby turtles - yup haven't watched that 'other movie' they got the voices wrong!!!!

The sea turtle is totally under threat though. The people who share the same stretch of earth are over harvesting their eggs, sometimes almost 100% is harvested............and then they wonder why the numbers are declining.

Humans are so stupid sometimes!

Go baby, go baby go, don't upset the rhythm

I watched a show last night on Channel 4 called Strictly Baby Disco.
I didn’t want to watch it.
I knew I’d end up screaming at the TV.
And guess what….I did.
To me some of the Mother’s on there were falling only just short of child abuse.
Do I sound harsh?
Let me explain…………..
The children were under 10 years old. Many of them were grossly underweight. Some of them you could already see the joint issues they were having. Most of us know about ‘dancers back’ where you hit somewhere in your 20’s after a career of dancing and can suffer huge back problems.
I mean there is flexible and just bending yourself into a ridiculous form that the human body is not really meant to do.
The dancing was debateable in my eyes – it resembled that of a child fitting at times. I kid you not. It was meant to be free style disco but was frankly just a little bit odd.
But it’s become highly competitive……………..between the Mom’s.
They were screaming, shouting and being embarrassing. The injuries their daughters suffered sounded like it was injuries to them.
It was them that wanted the trophy.
The little girls did their short routine in front of the judges and came off the dance floor so exhausted that they would either be in tears or in the case of two of them, actually physically collapsed on the floor.
One little girl who was now 9 had been rushed to hospital the previous year. She had extreme stomach pains and sickness. The doctor informed the Mother that the girl was suffering from stress. The Mother told the doctor not to be ridiculous that she was only 9 how could she be stressed. The Doctor pointed out that the competitions were causing the stress. The Mother would not accept this. The same little girl was on antibiotics this year for a kidney infection, but the Mother had told the child ‘….you don’t dance with your kidney’s though, you dance with your feet.’ At one point the little girl went out to compete and she fell, she ran off the dance floor crying, her Mother pushed her away and back onto the dance floor. The little girl tried to carry on – she was upset, she was broken and no doubt in pain from her kidney infection. You could see her exhaustion. Then her wig fell off – yes the giant wig on her little body fell off, but again she was pushed back out to dance. She didn’t get through her heat, so her Mom told her she was rubbish. In the eyes of the little girl you could see that all she wanted was a hug.



Now – Children are competitive and they like to win. But they also like to play and have fun. They need discipline but they also need love, and sometimes winning isn’t important but knowing your parents love you is.
One child had been taken away from the family and moved with the Mother to a little flat, but it was ‘ok’ because she would see her Dad maybe twice a month. Yeah, you guessed it, it wasn’t the child saying it was OK, it wasn’t the child that had asked to move, all these decisions were the Mother’s.
At one point it showed a child at home with the Mother, the ‘parent’ stretching the child’s leg, the child was saying ‘Ow o wow Mommmy……’ but the Mother continued to push the leg higher and further back.
How is this ok?
How is this morally right?
How is this for the good of the child?
How is this good parenting?

Childhood goes in a blink of an eye but can build the foundations for the rest of our lives. Some of the things a child does that might seem to be, well fancy, it might seem to be childish are all part of essential development into the adult world. If you rush this – you end up with a child in an adults body unable to function in the real world. You end up with a child rushed into adult hood without really fully understanding themselves and the complex world of relationships that build up a person’s life.

And all for what?
So that ‘Mom’ can tell the world that they….sorry, their child won a medal for dancing.
All at what cost love? At what cost!!!!!

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

When I grow up I want to be....

A mermaid.



I kid you not - that was my ambition.
I still have a 'need' to be by water.
I feel a calm come over me as soon as I am.
If I've not been around water for a while (and I don't mean the bath) I get tetchy.
If I feel stressed out there is nothing better than a big bubble bath and a book or a walk to the local boating lake.
Maybe my wish came true after all!

Roll with it.



Or as I always say - even Roses need shit to grow!

Away with the fairies....

Is going to be my epitaph!

As a child and very much so today I like to daydream.
Alot.
I used to have a foil picture of some trees and a river that wound its way through the picture and off.
Before going to bed each night I would look at it and pretend to be on a boat sailing away to a different land each time for a new adventure!

No matter how tough things get....

Remember....


Very sadly a young man from the town I live in killed himself last week. It's tragic.
Such a terrible thing for his friends and his family.
So terrible to think he felt so lost and unable to cope.
Sadly something that is becoming too common.
Yet still we don't talk about depression with ease.
Still we frown on anyone that has mental health issues.
Still we don't reach a hand out to help our fellow person.
It is thought that in the current climate each adult will suffer a series of mini breakdowns in their life time - that's not just one or two we are talking double figures.
Some will pull through them and some will get lost into the dark vacuum of depression.
This time of year is the worst as well - it's cold, it's dark - there doesn't seem to be much to look forward to - it's expensive.
More and more we are being squeezed.
We are being fed a stream of really depressing news headlines.
Landlords are taking the piss more and more and the government sit by and do nothing.
Everyday task become daunting.
Our mask starts to slip.
We start to hide away.
We feel bogged down with no way out.
We should all learn to talk and reach out to each other more.

In the land of make believe



How gorgeous was she au natural!
Ok, ok it helps that she was somewhat of a knock out when she was younger so had the genetics to carry her through to old age quite gracefully.
But then there are a lot of other people out there the same - ok - well not quite the same as Audrey but there are a lot of beautiful people out there that make themselves ugly through their vanity and cosmetic surgery.
It does not make you look younger - it makes you look weird.
It does not make you more beautiful it makes you look the same as all the others that are having the same procedures done.
One of the beautiful things about life is that we are all made different, that no two of us are the same, even snowflakes follow our rule, but look, here you now have a generational thing going on where people think it's the norm' and what you should do - buying into the sheep mentalitly being forced upon us that we are accepting so easily for some silly reason.
A lot of women and men that go under the knife actually have BDD and other mental health issues so you would have to argue how morally correct it is to do things just because someone has the money.
What happened to embracing out individuality?
Loving who we are!
Being beautiful on the inside is what counts.
But that doesn't sell so much does it.
Just think about why you are doing things before you do them.
Those 'perfect' people in the magazines are not so perfect without the aid of computer technology and lighting!!!!

We are not meant to all be the same!



How gorgeous was she au natural!
Ok, ok it helps that she was somewhat of a knock out when she was younger so had the genetics to carry her through to old age quite gracefully.
But then there are a lot of other people out there the same - ok - well not quite the same as Audrey but there are a lot of beautiful people out there that make themselves ugly through their vanity and cosmetic surgery.
It does not make you look younger - it makes you look weird.
It does not make you more beautiful it makes you look the same as all the others that are having the same procedures done.
One of the beautiful things about life is that we are all made different, that no two of us are the same, even snowflakes follow our rule, but look, here you now have a generational thing going on where people think it's the norm' and what you should do - buying into the sheep mentalitly being forced upon us that we are accepting so easily for some silly reason.
A lot of women and men that go under the knife actually have BDD and other mental health issues so you would have to argue how morally correct it is to do things just because someone has the money.
What happened to embracing out individuality?
Loving who we are!
Being beautiful on the inside is what counts.
But that doesn't sell so much does it.
Just think about why you are doing things before you do them.
Those 'perfect' people in the magazines are not so perfect without the aid of computer technology and lighting!!!!

Thursday, 16 February 2012

What you see is not always what you get and what you get is not always what you see!



How many times do you wake up feeling a bit crappy.
Your hair isn't right - you hate your face, you have loads of clothes but simply 'nothing' to wear.
You are the same size as yesterday but today you feel fat.
You feel hideous and horrible and because of this you start to think that life sucks, more specifically you start to think that your life sucks.
You overly dramatically state you have no friends, that you are useless, ugly and no good.
As you go about your day - you think people are looking at you thinking just those thoughts.
You walk past people laughing and can hear that they are saying mean things about you.
Someone looks at you and smiles and you see them laughing at you.
You walk home and everyone and their dog is looking at you thinking you are useless and a billy no mates.

A few days later you wake up and feel much better about life - at least for today.

Weirdly people seem to be being nicer to you as well.

Fancy that!

My own little story time challenge

Earlier in my blog I took a picture and wrote a thousand words about it based on people saying that a photograph can speak a thousand words.
It's fun to do but then I was choosing the picture so maybe not so much of a challenge.
So my friend challenged me - she sent me two pictures and I had to write 1,000 words about it instantly - no planning, nothing and here they are!



Finally the car pulled up outside the building. It was dark. I was tired. It had been a long journey. The roads had been almost impassable at times. The rain had made any little hole in the road turn into craters overnight. I loved this place but the terrain was less than friendly.
I’d been here for 6 years now. I’d come over as a student from London to travel and had decided I would volunteer at a rescue centre in Africa. I had planned to stay for maybe a couple of months. Janey, the owner, warned me my heart would take a beating, it would be lifted to the most dizzying happy heights ever at times but would also be pummelled into the ground leaving me crying until I was sore.
She was not wrong. The sights I had seen out there had been truly breathtaking….sometimes for all the wrong reasons. I had gotten to see some of the worst acts of human behaviour. Animals did not seem to matter when money and land were involved. It broke my heart. Nature has a place for everything and everything has its place but for some reason ‘man’ seems to think it knows better.
The team at Janey’s were exceptional. All of us were working for very little more than food and board. You didn’t really need much else out there. You didn’t need magazine’s as the world of ‘celebrity’ seemed a life time ago, the true celebrities round here were the animals anyway. Take like Nikita for example. She was a rescued elephant. She was only 6 months old. Found wondering, lonely, scared and injured. Her Mother had obviously been killed by poachers and they had tried to kill little Nikita too, failing that they had left her to roam hoping the jackals would get to her first, either that or she’d fall down a well in the dark. But Janey’s team had taken her in and she was now growing stronger by the day, already showing signs of being a truly amazing Matriarch one day.
All around the property at Janey’s you could hear people laughing. This was their daily work. But the joy and the pride that everyone had for it was truly a thing of beauty. It was so different to my job in rock radio back in London. The wrong things seemed to matter back then and no one seemed to be truly proud of what they did….and team work…..I don’t think they’d ever heard of it. Over here it was essential.
I had cared so deeply about getting my hair and nails done and going shopping. Every Saturday I would be out at the shops spending as much as I could, sometimes even more that I could afford too. And for what? I had left nearly all of that behind me when I started travelling and most of what I had brought out with me was utterly useless out there so I had pretty much binned it all. I hadn’t worn make up, other than for the odd night out, for…wow, it must be about 4 years now. My hair was back to its natural blonde, my skin lightly tanned and a little hardened from all the hours working outside in the sun.
The people here were wonderful but sometimes I did get lonely. I longed for some of my friends back home but thankfully Skype was available out here, but the more time I was out here the more I realised I had little or nothing in common with the people back home nowadays. I just didn’t care about the modern world, or maybe it had stopped caring about me.
Little Timmy had been brought in by one of the Volunteers 3 years ago. He looked like a baby cheetah but was a cat, obviously not too far removed from his bigger ancestors but it had been love at first sight. I could not put him down. I constantly gave him fuss and little bits of food. In the end Janey told me to take him home, she knew I was close to asking but had worried it wouldn’t be right. He’d been my little buddy ever since. And now here I was - at Janey’s with little Timmy. He’d been hurt by a jeep from the neighbours farm. It had taken me a life time to get here, Janey had been driving ahead, the injuries had been too much to deal with at home. I felt like I had been sitting here for hours waiting to hear how little Timmy was. I can’t begin to tell you what he means to me. If he dies……if he dies……well, I can’t even let myself go there, the lump in my throat is already threatening to choke me. My face was twisted in a grief that I hoped was unfounded. Timmy was my buddy.
I started to pace and stopped myself.
I heard the door of the operating theatre squeak open, I could see Janey’s assistant, they wouldn’t meet my eye. My heart started to race. I watched them slowly peel off their rubber gloves, the sound deafening in my ears. I was ready to strangle the guy. I needed to know that Timmy was ok, I needed to be with him.
David looked up. Solemnly. I caught my breath in my throat, I felt the tears sting my eyes. He was holding the door open, I looked up, searching desperately behind him….what was going on?
And there…..there he was, his paw sticking out, reaching for me, searching for me in this strange place. I dropped my bag and rushed over to him, reaching out my hand so slowly, taking Timmy’s paw ever so gently, at first he just lay there, but he awakened with my touch, gently purring then lifting his head, he reached his paw out further and then sat up. I caught the sparkle in his eye and knew everything was just fine.

And the next story:



Laughter rang out around the village. It made Maddie laugh. His sister was only 2 years old but she’d been a breath of fresh air for his family. All day they could hear her little chuckle ringing out. Times had been tough but Jenty brought about such joy that they didn’t feel so down on their luck anymore.
Maddie had nicknamed his sister the Camel whisperer because one of their working camels had pretty much been retired now and all it did was follow Jenty around all day, every day. To anyone watching it really did look like they were communicating with each other. Jenty would have a pretty much unstoppable dialogue going with the camel, who she had called Henry. They were a permanent fixture around the village now –if you saw one it wouldn’t be long before you saw the other. Normally Henry was spotted first of course. His parents would go out to work all day and he used to have to try to keep an eye on his little sister but thanks to this weird friendship she had with Henry he was free to go off and try to make some money of his own or even occasionally go and play down by the river with his friends and his brothers. Maddie had been the youngest for 8 years and then along came Jenty. He had hated it at first but now he loved his little sister. He used to be envious of the joy she used to bring to everyone but now he felt proud. The older women of the village would light up and appear to visably become younger just at the sound of little Jenty’s laughter.
They had a hard life. They were nicknamed the sand people by the richer folk because they lived in mud and dung huts. They weren’t so bad once they had been built as the sun quickly baked away the smell of the dung and it kept out the harshness of winter quite well. They were all too hungry, all of the time but the secret was to keep yourself busy so that you didn’t have to sit down and think about your grumbling belly. If you could keep busy you could quite often forget about lunch altogether. In the evening’s Maddie would take Jenty and go off into the village and try to creep about in the dark by the richer people’s houses. The food they threw out, if you could get to it, was simply amazing. It was food that his family could only dream of eating and yet these folk would just throw it out. Jenty had asked one man for the mango fruit he had in his hand ready to put in the bin and rather than give it to her he’d laughed and squashed it up in front of her face. Jenty had just stood there looking at the man not understanding what was going on. She didn’t know at two years old that she was never to even look these people in the eye let alone talk to them. Maddie had dragged her away quickly, ashamed and apologetic, this sort of thing could get his Father into a lot of trouble and due to Jenty’s age he knew it would be him that would get the blame.
Sure enough they had returned to the village that night and already his Father’s boss had come to speak to him about his unruly wayward, feral children. Maddie didn’t understand what feral meant but he understood the angry look on his Father’s face and had run away with Jenty to hide. His Father spent all day, really long hours out of the house, cleaning up the rubbish in the streets. He had to walk around on foot with a little cart. They were trying desperately to save up for a donkey or some such mule to help him. They had 3 camels that his older brothers would take off out into the desert and would charge the tourists money to sit on them and get taken around. There was a lot of competition for this amongst the villagers so his brothers used to get up as early as possible to get out there first. Their Mother would stay home and sort out the food that they had and clean the hut, she would then go to the village river with the other ladies and they would die some cloth to sell on to the tourists as head scarfs and shawls. Maddie and Jenty would sneak down to watch the ladies as they dried out the cloth they had dyed. Looking like a rainbow spread out across the side of the riverbank.
When old Henry was deemed to be getting too old for all the walks they were going to see if they could sell him for meat but no one seemed to want him. He was too thin. But then Jenty took a shine to him and his Mother could see the value of him as a form of babysitter. They could hear the laughter ringing out again, such an infectious chuckle from Jenty and he caught himself smiling. She’s brought so much joy to this village in the short time she had been around and he knew the villagers would be lost without her now. Maddie had often wondered what his sister found so funny all day with Henry. He looked around him and saw no one was about so he crept down towards the river where he could see the back of Henry. As he was approaching he could hear his sister chuckling, then a pause then a chuckle again. The shape of the river working as an echo chamber on her laughter. As he got closer he saw what had been amusing her. A hippo was walking in and out of the water, each time it moved emitting a huge loud fart that blew the hair back from his little sister’s head.

Monday, 13 February 2012

Jet Pack

One of the most fun band videos I have ever seen - yes it is my brothers band but watch the video for yourself and you will see that I am not being bias.

And just to be super nice you can down load the track for FREE!!!

The Fame Game

Fame is a funny old thing isn’t it.
As I’ve said before – we measure success in a very weird way.
Those that appear to have it just don’t seem very happy to me, not at all, they might do on the surface but if you scratch just a little way underneath, well, it tends not to be too pretty.
Everything I say in the next few lines should be followed with ‘allegedly!’ And also everything I have to say is not an attack on anyone’s character – we all do things we shouldn’t – it’s an observation on ‘fame’ and not a judgement on the people it sucks in.
So, Whitney died. Why were people surprised? Once a drug addict you either get clean or you die – there doesn’t really appear to be a middle ground.
It’s sad. It’s sad that someone got so lost that they threw it all away.
Her daughter was apparently seen snorting cocaine recently – you’d hope her Mother’s life would turn her against such things but you do follow the examples set, unfortunately.
Take Nicole Richie. She seems to be the media darling right now but it was only a couple of years ago – maybe 4, if that, that she was found driving stoned on the wrong side of the highway with a bubble of heroin on her. Seems we’ve all forgotten about that one. Once you have that kind of addiction going on I am pretty sure you fight it forever.
Paris Hilton is constantly reported to have cocaine on her and do I really need to highlight the career of Lindsey Lohan.
Now all youth or nearly all youth seem to dabble with drugs but you figure these people have so much why do they need to get so drawn into a world that doesn’t normally make the happy ever after columns?
It’s even worse for the children of such celebrities and their antics. They have no choice but to be put under the limelight microscope when their parent does something bad. They are subjected to the fall out that they have little or no control over. They have the money but that, as we know, rarely seems to make people happy. Yet we all seem to strive for it. Kids today think being famous is a career choice – they forget it’s meant to be the by product of what they want to do. Ask them what they want to be famous for – and most of them have not got a clue. But then you take the Kardashians – a whole family made famous due to their sister leaking a tape of her having sex. Wow, talented!!!
To have so much money that you can do anything at all you want, it sounds ideal but I am sure it soon leads to boredom. The mind set of those that doggedly hunt down fame and celebrity is something of wonder in itself. They normally are highly insecure people that put themselves into a market where they will get absolute adulation but they will also have to deal with the haters too – so it’s one extreme to the other – if people are indifferent to you then you haven’t really made it, have you! The children of celebrities will inherit these genetics, they will also have as much money at their disposal that they know they don’t have to work – they know they can mess up – do anything – that has to lead to some weird morals. Like you have a confidence that life just can’t teach you when you are born with money. You take certain things for granted that most people never even get a glimpse of, you also have to put up with the gossip mill and the hounding of the press, people waiting for you to mess up, you don’t really know who is your friend and who is intrigued by your family and your fame. Add to that the usual insecurities of youth and it’s not necessarily a happy mixture.
When you have all the money in the world – anything is possible – you are only limited by your imagination – but surely you start to push the boundaries – it’s harder and harder to have fun and get your kicks – people all around you nod their heads –no one dare says no – you lose sight of reality and what is and isn’t acceptable social behaviour. You will always have people that want to hang out with you so you never need to really be held accountable for your actions. If you get caught with drugs that would be the average person in prison you know you’ll probably be told off, get a slapped wrist and be set on your way – you don’t have to be aware of your actions as nothing is really going to touch you – it’s got to be hard then to know your limits and know your boundaries. Most children want discipline and their parents care, what do you do if those parents aren’t there? Do you get more and more outrageous until they notice you? DO you get consumed by loneliness that you have to keep doing outrageous things so that people will remember you as you fear the unknown, falling off the radar?
Now, if you are a true drug addict or alcohol addict a two week stay in rehab is not really going to cure that – to me that’s merely a PR stunt – or the addiction is not real. If you are truly addicted and truly get yourself well you can’t keep the same friends. Yet if you take Nicole Richie again as an example she says quite frequently how she has got the same group of friends that she’s had for years and you hear of some of them getting into trouble for drink driving and being in possession of drugs. Hmmm how does that work? How can you be a recovering addict and be around such things? Or how can you want that company for your child/children?
So is it all a lie – are they all messed up? Is it all the media hype?
I wanted to think it was all media hype but then you get the deaths of Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain etc etc, you get the fall out of Demi Moore, Lindsey Lohan etc etc and it makes you start to wonder.
There is a saying ‘The trappings of fame.’ And the older I get and the more I look into it the more I see a bunch of very insecure people that have a lot of money but seem to be lacking in the basic attention stakes and they look for it in all the wrong places.
It’s wrong to say all famous people are addicts or are all deeply unhappy but the more you look into it the scarier that world of fame appears.

Saturday, 11 February 2012

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Body art init.

I HATE how people judge people with tattoos.

To be fair to that sentance - people in prison with those white supremacy things well....different breed not worth talking about......

But tattoos can be lovely and I've seen many that are. I love the one's that tell a tale. There is a great advert out there that sums up acceptance in the work place and people's attitudes.



I think it's one of the best adverts I've ever seen for perfectly getting the message across.

I am just not so keen on the fact that tattoos are now a fashion accessory for some - but one you can never take off.

Do you really have the same taste when you are 30 as you do when you are 18? Or 14? Because I know there is a law but we all know laws get broken.

Kids are rushing out to get covered in tattoos - almost getting anything done just to be tattooed - as though that is the only way they can express themselves or appear cool.

It makes me feel bad for those that have tattoos for the right reasons.

And what might those be? Because you want something beautiful on you for a reason - because it speaks to you - because it marks something special - can take you back to a happy moment or to remember a dear person. I love tattoos.
But I question the motives of some these days.

I think there are going to be a lot of kids out there that regret what they have done - plus the fact so many are getting generic tattoos done so they end up looking the same as tonnes of other kids walking around.

This guy has had something different done and I quite like it.



For the record this post is not a diss at tattoos and people that have them just the motives behind some of the youth getting them today. I think you know the type I mean.

Richie, Kurt, the interwebs and hand written notes

Yesterday marked the 17th year anniversary of Richie James Edwards going missing.

Presumed dead? I think so.


But that’s the thing – if he’s not what a piglet for not getting in touch with his family or someone that knows him not getting in touch with his family.

I don’t know if his Mom still does this but up until a few years ago – she kept going to his flat on the Cardiff front and turning on the lights so that if he came home his flat would feel welcoming. That there breaks my heart more than anything else.

I heard about hard core fans overseas knowing about his self harming and buying him a set of knives asking him to think of them as he cut himself. How utterly horrible for the man.

The biggest thing that hit me about this was 17 years!!! How old did that make me feel. How much life has changed in those 17 years!

It also made me realise that this April it will be 18 years since Kurt said bye bye to us all.


Wowsers.

I am of an age where I know exactly where I was when the news broke in the UK about Kurt. (I was in my room with my then boyfriend, my Mom came running up the stairs and announced the man I had a picture of on my wall was on the news….suicide, my response was ‘did it work?’ she nodded – then the phone rang and it was my older brother, he didn’t normally give two hoots about such things but said this felt weird…..and so a generation mourned.)

Back then there was no internet.

I bet most of you can’t even imagine that.

As much as I love the internet and I love blogs and social networking sites I do look at the youth today and think hmmm we are breading a rather narcissistic group of kids that photograph everything – that don’t appear to live in the moment for anything anymore.



A lot of us don’t truly become ourselves until we leave home and we sort of shed our skin and leave the past behind – but when it’s all been documented photo by photo online for the world to see you no longer have that luxury. So you might be able to delete your blog but someone will remember, someone will have cached it. Somewhere my most important childhood memories are stored – thankfully with very little photographic evidence at the awful fashion I was forced to wear etc etc etc. It’s like we’re breading this narcissistic group of people that totally overshare on the internet but have little skills with social interaction in the real world – to me that is not advancement.



Weirdly as well with the internet meaning things can be in your home in seconds – you don’t have to wait for the hard product to hit the highstreet stores and then find the time to get to them to buy the item – with a few clicks of a button it will be brought to your very door or instantaneously through your headphones. You’d think music and media sales would be up – but it seems only computer games are flying high still.

A part of me feels like introducing my blog as ‘This is not a fashion blog.’ There are some amazing one’s out there but am I the only one really bored of seeing way too young teens taking photographs of themselves in every single item of clothing they wear and posing in not altogether suitable ways for the whole world to see – paedophiles and all!?!?

I miss some of the anonymity my childhood had. I do love how you can reach out to people all over the world and have certainly made some amazing friends that I would never have meet, or I assume I would never have met if it hadn’t been for the interwebs.

I also miss all the lovely handwritten letters I used to send and receive.



Thing is when I was a kid there was no cyber bullying. There were no online creeps grooming children. Shit still happened believe me, and some of it not known about but I know in my little town if someone was being weird – he…or she would get the shit kicked out of them or they would be moved on. Maybe not the most correct way to go about things but it was there for all to see. Now it feels more sly – way more underground.

The internet gives you freedom but sadly that is also abused. I for one don’t think I would let my child have a computer in their bedroom – you know – teens are very susceptible to flattery, I can see how they can fall for the charms of a class A loser.

Kurt and Richie were two very hounded but two very lonely characters. Maybe the internet helps such individuals – maybe it makes it worse.
Either way – hasn’t the world changed in 18 years – sadly with all the wars and things you hear about going on and the level of disrespect on the streets these days it is very hard to say if it’s been changed for the better or not. Time will tell I guess.

Anyway – enough of my ranting and musing – I’m off to listen to Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Big girls don't cry......

So shall I be the first one to be brave enough to admit this is so far from the truth.
There are websites all over the place to help teens with their confidence and feeling like they don't belong or that they are ugly.....but how many things are out there for the big girl that feels that way?
You know that girl that is supposed to be a grown up but will feel like they are faking it in that world and one day soon they will be caught out for all the world to see.
It's surely not just me is it?
I hold my hands up to having a Peter Pan complex and I am not embarrassed by that and will never apologise for that but there is this misconception that because I am not a teenager anymore I should have my shit together...haha best joke I've heard in years.
In fact...I think I've regressed.
As a child and a teen I would get up on stage just me and my musical instrument and play a duet with another flautist. I would then play a piece with a pianist. I would then play a piece on my own. I would happily stand there in front of 500 people. No problem.
Could I do it now?
Hell no.
I hit 20 and my confidence came to me in bucket loads.
A lot may've been alcohol fueled to start with but it was there.
I think I must've thrown it away in one of the vodka bottles I thought was empty.
Where is it now?



Well - I got told that I am not shy, that it's something else.
I agree - it's called self esteem. I hear it's quite an essential thing to have.
One big part of me is very flippant and couldn't care less what the world thinks - I am what I am and I am a good person so I am not going to apologise for my flaws - you just have to realise I am human.
I know myself very well which in turn does also mean I am painfully aware of my flaws.
But you aren't meant to talk about this as an adult are you?
Something is meant to happen isn't it where you suddenly get up one day and you know what you want from life and even bigger, you know how to get it. You are suddenly meant to find the career path of your choosing and full on excel at it - buy a car, a house, a yacht, ok maybe not the yacht but you get the picture. I am suddenly meant to know about Art and only buy designer labels - they are investment pieces now not just a fun little dress.
I am meant to know the hair colour and style that suits me and not have all that experimental make up lying around - I know my brands and shades.
I should have a gym membership....and one I actually use.
I should know how to cook and never ever have a disaster in the kitchen (hey the flapjacks were still edible just more like snap cracks or something).
I have matching shoes and handbags.
I don't blow bubbles with my hubba bubba anymore and as for those plastic barrettes they are surely long gone.
I can hold a conversation with anyone about any topic under the sun and I can schmooze til the cows come home - I never have a moment of conversational doubt and of course I don't panic when having to enter a crowded room on my own. Of course I can wait in a pub on my own for my friends to arrive without worrying that I look like a billy no mates.
Of course I can recite poetry to you and have travelled the world.
Of course I don't look in the mirror and want to pull my hair out and scream 'why???'
I never fall asleep with my make up on (ok, that one is actually true).
I don't watch cartoons and only arthouse movies.
I walk everywhere - I don't skip and hop my way through life.
I haven't touched glitter for years.
I have never thought about wearing an alice band recently.
And I positively don't own a care bears tshirt - or have a book shelf dedicated to Tim Burton toys.

See, I am a totally useless adult but apparently we are not meant to talk about that!!!!

Monday, 6 February 2012

Don't let the sadness of the swamps get to you

There's a girl in my life that is nice to me..........when she wants something. The same girl in my life will talk to me...........when others are, she even sometimes talks to me when we are on our own. I've done nothing to her, nothing to offend at all, but..........every now and then she cuts me dead, cuts me out and leaves me cold.
I don't get it - I try not to worry about it but every now and then I find it triggers something in me.
I end up thinking about what could I have done? What did I do to make her mad? Why does she hate me? Then I go off on a tangent about all the things that are wrong with me and my conclusion will be that everyone that ever meets me must totally think the same things about me and be able to see all my flaws and therefore I will end up with no friends and must just suck as a human being.

Nothing like catastrophsing is there.


Weirdly I will be the first to point out to others to ignore such behaviour from other people and to realise it's just jealousy.

Quite often if someone doesn't understand you, or can't put you in a box then they don't get you and will pretend to hate you but really they just feel threatened by you.

I am quite aware I don't always think like the average 'jo', but since when does that make you a bad person?

Well, it doesn't.

Instead of asking myself what I have done wrong - maybe it's about time I realised that it's her fault and her problem and not mine and that I should just get on with life.

Saturday, 4 February 2012

Eye Eye!



Who knew there were so many wonderful ways to do eyeliner!

Once you have mastered the art of liquid eyeliner I don't think you can turn back - you just have to be very careful and make sure you carry around some cotton buds if you suffer from hayfever. I have yet to find a decent waterproof liquid eyeliner. I've found one that just stains - which is rubbish as any mistake you make is there for the world to see for two days. I always used to wear winged eyeliner but now I keep that for the evening and a little modest sweep for work.

Unless I've been crying or had allergies then my eyeliner becomes super thick.
Just like if you catch me wearing red lippy to work - I am hungover and look like death but if I put the red lippy on you will think that is why the rest of me looks pasty. See, there are hidden messages in the way us girls wear make up you know.

I've been caught out in the rain on many occassion and my eye make up has stayed perfect but you try to cry descreetly in the cinema at a sad movie and totally deny you did so - then you walk outside into the lighted foyer where everyone can see you and suddenly you have become the daughter of Alice Cooper - how does that happen!

I am now feeling fully encouraged to try that huge eyeliner all over your eyelid flick......waiting for the boyfriend to now ask why the hell I am impresonating a panda and will of course tell him 'It's fashion darling!' and try really hard to not cry at the movie we watch tonight.

Friday, 3 February 2012

You can call me many things.....

...but sporty is never and will never be one of them.
I don't do sport. I don't do organised exercise. I tried a yoga class once and the teacher went super super religious on my ass, well not on my ass...you know what I mean! I went to a pilates class once with a friend and almost got thrown out. It's not my fault when I start to giggle I find it very hard to stop ok!

I'm not lazy though. I have a lot of nervous energy and I very rarely sit still. I also walk to and from work as often as possible - this is a good half hour march either way with a big hill involved. It's me time with my ipod and the sun rise and I write so many stories in my head - all to be forgotten of course but it's fun never the less.

But one thing I have always wanted to do....is to ride in the tunnel of a wave.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Gorgeous Pretty Things

Who doesn’t need Gorgeous, pretty things in their life?





Ok I might hear some men saying nope….but think about it – what would your girlfriend/wife or future love of your life like? Yep you guessed it – gorgeous pretty things!
And there are plenty of those to be found at www.gorgeousprettythings.co.uk
Jude Wakefield is the founder and maker of all things gorgeous on this site.

There is something for all occasions ranging from necklaces, gold and silver earrings, and bracelets and if you like the idea of something and you ask nicely Jude might even make them for you! Due to the techniques used to make many of these items, they will in fact be one offs.
All are affordable and gorgeous and with Valentine’s Day approaching…either as gifts to buy or subtle hints to drop, please check out www.gorgeousprettythings.co.uk

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin....

Another picture I found that I love and tried to make it speak a thousand words.


She pushed the shutters open – the breeze gently picking up her hair and making it dance around her face. She looked out towards the sea, mesmerised by the glistening and sparkling of the suns reflection bouncing along the top of the waves.
She could feel the salt gently seep into her skin; she could feel her hair start to wave.
Above all she felt happy.
It had taken a long time to get here.
Blood, sweat and tears and all the favours she could muster up.
Now she felt like her life would finally be hers. Here she felt she could finally be the person she had been trying all those years to be but hadn’t had the confidence.
‘Goodbye London, hello life.’ Rosie called out to the sea, letting the sea breeze carry her words away.
Across the bay a young man called Dan looked up towards the cottage, he could just make out the shutters were open. He waved. He didn’t know if Rosie could see him down here.
Rosie smiled and waved back. It was as though the breeze had carried her words across to the bay.
‘I love you.’ She shouted out to Dan. Hoping he could hear or feel it in his heart.
They had lived in London a long time, struggling through the hustle and bustle with very little money. They’d been tested time and time again. Landlords neglecting their little home until it came to rent raise day.
Their jobs were nice and pleasant and fun but the pay reflected the fact they were sought after jobs. They made ends meet as best they could, wanting for little but not really able to afford a lot.
Fancy meals out where not on the cards. Their own transportation a thing of dreams. A little house to call their own was something they could only talk about. Life felt restricting and it had started to get to Rosie. Dan had felt it for years but had thought Rosie was free in London and never wanted to be the one to clip her wings.
He looked back up at the cottage longingly. He loved that girl but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to let her know how much. She had a habit of not believing him anyway.
But they had finally talked.
They realised they had both wanted the same thing. They had both wanted a way out. A new start.
So they took it. They embraced their dreams and flew with them.
It was a gamble and one they were still not sure whether it would land them in the red or the black but they had decided it was better to regret something they had done than something they hadn’t done. It would be a tale to tell if nothing else.
They had worked out the savings they had which had been enough to put down a deposit on a tiny little cottage, it was not their own, it was still only a rental but the landlord had said they could decorate it to their tastes and have it on a long term lease. This was perfect as they had some freedom but without the commitment until they knew if this was where they should be.
Dan had moved down first whilst Rosie tied up any loose ends in London. They had spent more than they should have on moving but had paid for a proper team to come in and take control – there was no way Rosie was going to run up and down the stairs that many times ever again, moving in had been horrible and they had accumulated so much ‘stuff’. All ‘stuff’ that couldn’t be thrown away of course.
Dan got a job as the local post man quite quickly – the hours were a bit erratic but he liked that, it also had helped him get to know some of the locals. This had led to him hearing about a little office job going – perfect to help Rosie move down and look for something else. And here she was, she’d found the move easy. She thought it would break her heart to leave London but she was so happy by the sea. This view alone would keep her going for years.
She’d made sure all her friends had her new address and promises had been made to visit her soon and with the friends she had these days she knew the words were true.
They had little money left over once they’d paid their bills and their rent – pretty much the same as when they were in London. They still couldn’t afford their own car but instead they had bought two push bikes and were loving riding around town, getting fit, and just exploring somewhere new. Their neighbour had called round the first day they had both moved in and bought them some milk and home-made cookies. The local shopkeeper had given them a bottle of wine and Dan’s new boss had given them a little hamper which they thought they would take up to the cliff at the weekend and have a picnic and toast their new life.
Already there was a spring in their steps that they hadn’t had in London. So life had toned down even more than before but they finally were starting to feel there was a community here. People were friendly. People remembered your name.
Rosie leant out of the shutter window and gazed out again at the sparkling dancing waves below. She looked over towards the bay where the little spec that was Dan could be seen. She blew him a kiss and looked to the sky and smiled.
Dan looked over towards Rosie and packed up his things. He wondered if she had been able to see the little puppy at his heels that he’d just picked up for them. All had been Okayed with the landlord this was the final little surprise for Rosie and their new life.