Incontinence in a Corner

The title is mainly just to amuse Carly! But it is one of the many subject matters we discussed this evening. No, we did not go on a conference which discussed how best to deal with children with bowel issues but we diverted our task onto this subject very early on in the evening. Tonight our Boss decided it would be smart to send myself, Erika, Carly and our leader Eamonn on a leadership course/project/conference thing - still not entirely sure which it really is or what we are supposed to do.

The main point of the evening was to establish types of person, types of managing styles and what colour we should dress in (pretty much - a 'yellow' man in our group was actually wearing a yellow tie - what are the chances?!!) Its an old management style looking at how people work and behave. All four of us appeared to be Yellow people along with the cheery yellow tied man, meaning we were enthusiastic, positive, fun loving type people who are motivated by free beer, chocolate fountains and donkeys at school fetes (come on, who wouldn't have fun at that school fete!)

However, as Erika, Carly and I were distinctly 'Yellow', it did lead to us being 'off-task' somewhat. In fact, don't think we actually discussed anything on the course for longer than about 3 minutes at a time. Main topics of discussion were of course an unfortunate poo related incident, donkeys, Carly's immature love of the number 69, how to introduce oneself to men without a beard, the Secret Meeting (little explanation:- On the board coming into the Hilton Hotel were the different conference rooms and the meetings being held. For one room it merely said 'Secret Meeting'. We were beyond intrigued, the fact that they said 'Secret' meant that we were desperate to go! What they were discussing, who knows? I believe to get into the 'Secret Meeting' there were some treasure map related antics, possibly some hidden handshakes and more than likely, a heavy discussion into the great secrets of the world: why hedgehogs have spikes? What really is at the end of the rainbow? why kerry katona is allowed to live? and why a lot of short men are so bloody irritating? We can only dream. However, the fact that I had no idea what was going on for the most part of the evening led me to believe we might have actually been in the secret meeting all along, the secret being what we supposed to actually do.) anyhoo.

Eamonn, having abandonned us to watch the football, left us to our deeply complex and intellectual conversations! I haven't giggled so much in ages! I know it was work, but we had so much fun! We did learn a lot, but what I think I really found out was that three 'yellow' people together were quite scary. Before coffee had arrived we had managed to scare away all the other people from our table (not sure we were appreciated). Infact, before long we were sat in a corner all alone with as many hilton after dinner mints we could eat! Feeling slighty incompetent as I still wasn't clear on what had gone on over the evening, basking in our yellow glow, aching from laughing a little too much, I felt content.

I find it difficult still with people I work with to feel relaxed and completely myself. Barriers were thrown up during my third year at uni - I shut down pretty much. I was a complete mess in other words and was horrible. I found it, and still find it very hard to form new friendships, the friends I have known what a mess I was and don't judge me on it. I am only just getting used to the fact that none of the last few years really matter, it doesn't matter how I was, just who I am. It has taken a very long time to get back to feeling somewhere like normal and less unhinged. The wiring still isnt quite right in places, but thats ok. Even with those disconnections, if I can truly relax, be myself, and enjoy giggling hysterically about inane nonsense, then I am happy.

Good company, good food, good laugh! Good night.

Wicked Witch of the (North) West

From this point on I will probably be known as quite evil. What is the point of being an adult if you cannot have adult conversations about things without descending into hysterics?

I have never really been a strong person, I have always wished to let things lie, to let bygones be bygones etc. I didn't like to challenge people, I still don't, but I have realised there is no point going through life keeping your mouth shut. If things upset or offend you of course they should be voiced, in a calm, rational, adult manner. Obviously not only delivering home truths in the correct manner but also in the correct situation.

I was never good at my timing. Before Steve and I were an item, usually in fits of jealousy, I would have a go at him for pointless things in public arenas. This did not make me a very nice person and made many people feel uncomfortable. From that point I tried realy hard not to grumble about anything.

This turned in on myself and made me a paranoid (even moreso) weak shell. I was too scared to say anything ever. When Steve and I started living together, this internal turmoil would erupt into a violent explosion. I would scream and cry and become hysterical, I would storm about, push, shove, lose total control. Thankfully I have learnt now to control anger and 'discuss' things that bother me, but only with Steve.

However, things bother me. After breif storming sessions, strugling with my demons and pacing about the house, ranting inside my head, I can calm down. In this zone I become very calm and rational and am now able to piece together a justifyable arguement in my head. I am not saying I am always right, but I feel I am now able to approach difficult situations with a clear head, knowing my part.

I don't take to these situations lightly, usually they take weeks if not months to manifest. It does also take something I feel quite important or serious to provoke it, no more walking out on Steve because he hadn't washed up! No more childish tantrums because my toys fell out the pram.

So it was in this calm, rational yet determined mode that I called a friend this evening. Shaking like a leaf and terrified of the ramifications, I settled on the idea that I had to say something. I wasn't sure how it was going to go or how well recieved my conversation would be, not good though. I knew the point I wanted to make, I was calm in my decision to call. Understandably, she didn't take it well. Thats the problem though with being honest, it hurts. She is understandably upset and feels that I have attacked her, it was personal. However, I maintained my rationality and although my hands, arms and legs were dithering uncontrollably, I felt I managed to stand my ground rationally. Something I could never have done 12 months ago.

I hope if she ever reads my blog again that she understands why I did what I did. It wasn't out of spite or hate or mallice, but out of geniune love and affection for those I care about. I know that there will be fallout from this. I am aware that things will be misunderstood, that chinese whispers may take over. But I feel I did something for the greater good this evening. Or maybe Im just a meddler? I don't know. All I know is I can't doubt my decision now, whats done is done, I felt it was necessary.

That again is another problem with honesty. What some people believe to be necessary is completely different from anothers point of view. I believe I am a kind, sensible, thoughtful person and would do anything for my friends.

I hope you see it this way.

Drool!

It's only fair I share him! Enjoy ladies.

Nx

Wasting Time

Hmph. Bored.

I have so many things I need to do and so many things I want to do, but just can't be bothered. Its Saturday night and Steve has taken his little brother to Nottingham to play poker. They won't be back here until the early hours, so I have to occupy myself - without eating!! I ordinarily really look forward to a night alone, I really was looking forward to this one, but I know what happens, get slightly bored and I eat. If I get bored when others are around I don't eat. Food is my friend in solitary situations.

Generally I've had a week off, not only from work, but from my enforced change of routine. I haven't eaten vast portions this week, but I have eaten a lot more, and a lot more sugar based food. The other day I cooked two batches of fudge because I wanted to entertain myself. Its not very nice fudge, (either under or over cooked, don't know which) but that hasn't stopped me eating it. I had scones, ice cream and chocolate last weekend, the rich valenites desert over two nights this week, and very little exercise. Next week I need to start again!

Anyway, so tonight I am alone. I am trying not to go into the kitchen, fudge be there! Also, on evenings like this I like to bake . . . probably not the best way to 'restart' the week. So . . . what to do . . . .?

Watch the BBC's Pride and Prejudice . . . Check! On in the background, nothing like a Mr Darcy fix on a lonesome evening. Colin Firth as Mr Darcy is the quintessential heart throb. I love him and wish I was as witty and intelligent as Miss Eliza Bennett if it would catch me a man of that calibre and good standing! I've not done too badly though with Steve! Looking at fallen relationships around me recently I realise I am a very lucky young lady to be with someone I love and who loves me regardless of all my insecurities and paranoias. Fanatsising about Mr Darcy is still a very definite necessity in my life though!

Finish reading the book I started before christmas . . . If I know where I've put it! I'm reading 'Son of a Witch', the sequel to 'Wicked'. I love reading, however I need large chunks of time and an abundance of energy to concentrate in order to read adult books. I can't keep reading children's books all the time! I am often mocked by Steve and Erika for being a 'retard' at reading! It takes me ages and I always feel too tired. This may seem strange but I get so involved with a book, it totally consumes my whole being, so reading takes energy! Steve thinks I am dyslexic (I struggle with my left and right) and that this is the issue. I am not dyslexic, I like many other women, have more important things to think about than wether I know my left and right . . . I'm not coming out too well from this!

(From the above point) revise my left and right . . . can I really be bothered? what horrors will befall me should I occaisionally mix them up? "Don't step left, you will fall off the cliff." - instant hospitalisation or death. "Drive on the left side of the road," - instant hospitalisation or death. "Put this shoe on your right foot," - blisters, poor walking, falling over leading to instant hospitalisation or death. Maybe its worth spending ten minutes on. Hmm.

Bake a cake - ermmm, no. This would require not only a walk to the shop for eggs but mean I would eat a vast proportion of it before the Webley Brothers return.

Play Scrabbulous - check! Unfortunately I am only playing against three people and they are all busy this evening so I have to wait until tomorrow for them to return their go. Limited time wasting.

Go for a walk . . . the fact that I am already curled up in bed with Colin Firth means this is unlikely, not imposisble but highly improbable.

Do my school planning . . . It might actually come to this. However, it is Saturday night and school work was designed for Sunday nights just before you start again!

Mark my writing assessments . . . see above.

Drink wine . . . I would love to right now, but even though Steve has my car I may need to be aware of myself incase certain horrors befall the Webley Brothers on their outing - not sure what, but something could happen (see, not paranoid in the slightest).

Play at dressing up . . . now this one is very appealing. Now I am a little thinner I should be able to fit into my old university ball dresses! Might end up flouncing around the house drinking wine, imagining I am dancing with Mr Darcy and slighting Mr Collins. My favourite ball gown is one my mum made, its a black velvet bask with a HUGE dark purple skirt which flashes deep red, blue and black depending on how the light catches it - amasing.

Work out how to use the timer setting on my camera . . . this could be in collaboration with the above.

Write another chapter to my kids book . . . started over a year ago and only 4 chapters in. Lacking inspiration at the moment, am waiting to win the lottery and take a year off to write.

Check lottery numbers . . . where's my handbag?! Ah, downstairs, do it in a bit.

Well, with all these things to do I should get going, will never fit it all in! On the other hand . . . might just have a piece of fudge!

Nx

Is it just me . . . ?

While trying on multiple pairs of low cut, flab cutting, over priced, skinny fit, depressingly thin, badly made, non-comfy jeans (it went soooooooo well), I was yet again investing in a little people watching. To be more accurate, people listening.

I know I am judgemental at the best of times, but I realised today just how judgemental I could be. Although, not entirely unjustified. The first was in New Look, who have surprised me actually with their range of tops at the moment, not jeans though - we went through this earlier, I will try not to repeat myself! I was layering tops and failing miserably to coordinate anything when I overheard voices in the next cubicle. Three generations of the same family were shopping together which I thought was lovely, something very traditional and surprising in a world so twisted round. There was a young girl spending her birthday money, her mum and grandma. I couldn't see them, obviously - I hadn't created a little peep hole to watch them by, but I did sit and listen for a while! I need more of a life . . . .

Anyway, the girl sounded about 11 - 12, quite young. She was trying on various things including jeans. Apart from wanting to tell her never to buy jeans from New Look, I was ready to scream at her elders at what they thought was appropriate for a young girl. The discussion went through white leggings, to white jeans, to mini skirts and then I heard the mother say . . . ."You look far better in those white hot pants you own!" At this point I wish I had a peep hole to see just how old this girl was. It was entirely feasable that she just sounded young, that she was a misguided teenager who thought hot pants were cool (for anyone who may be confused I would like to clarify that at no point, unless you are Kylie, are hot pants cool. They aren't now, and never will be!) I quickly gathered my things as I realised I needed to leave the changing rooms before I actually started telling people how to dress.

As I walked out from behind the curtain I realised to my horror, I was right. This was not a teenager, not even close. She was indeed a little girl. She was no older than 12 and her mother was telling her she looked good in hot pants. Now, I know I was never the coolest of kids, I always had hand-me-downs and Tesco clothes (there is definitly nothing wrong with Tesco clothes, I still love them), but come on - hot pants? On an 11 year old? Really? The mother should not be dressing her little girl like a prostitute. But maybe I'm just old fashioned . . . and quite happy to be if thats the case.

The second thing that distressed me was in Dotty P's. I was rifling through the sale rail (some nice little numbers actually, but nothig fit) when I heard a very aggressive voice, "Get eere or I'll batter you! Gerr eer now!" I looked up expecting to see a naughty boy running around the shop. I was not surprised to see the owner of the voice as a very large, extremely scary looking woman. Red puffer jacket, hair scrapped back with what I assumed was gel, could be natural . . . who knows (said I was judgemental), pushing a push chair. There was a baby in the push chair but I could not see the naughty boy. "Get by me NOW or I'll kick your 'ed in!" she continued in her dulcet tones. When I edged my head around the trousers I could see to who she was referring. Tottering behind her was a tiny toddler, no more than 2 or 3. The little girl, from what I could see, was guilty of nothing more than not being able to keep up with mother's yeti like strides. The poor thing was seemingly oblivious to the venom at which her mother was screaming at her.

I spun back around quickly, hiding the fact that I was obviously fuming. How DARE she speak to a child like that. I don't care how naughty they may or may not be - that was bang out of order. I wanted to tell her what a horrible person she was and that she didn't deserve to have one kid, let alone 2. However, I quite like my face, I quite like being able to chew food and breathe without aid. I think had I approached the neanderthal I would have ended up in intensive care.

The world is a very sad place, and things like that put my life in perspective. I had a wonderful upbringing all things considered. I was loved and knew it. I was well cared for and knew it. I never had to doubt the care my family gave me (for the most part) and I now don't have to question the care and love of my friends. That poor little girl is going to grow up knowing nothing but hate and aggression. Steve is right. Humans should have a test before they are allowed to breed, it would stop children growing up a psychological mess and hating the world thus precipitating a vicious, downwards spiral.

So, it may be a day (ish) late, but show people how much you love them. Let those you care about know how much you care about them, that you would not let harm come to them, and that you would definitly tell them how appauling they look in white hot pants.

Love you,

Nx

Not giving up the ghost, just yet.

Comfy old jeans are like a good friend. They won't let you down, they don't get offended if you choose to wear something else, but are always, without fail, there when you need them. I love jeans, I live in them. My current pair are Doty P's high waisted, dark size 14s. However, what with the old losing weight shennanigans, they are not looking their best anymore.

Infact, they don't actually fit anymore! They are supposed to be high waist, however, they are now sitting below my hips. I know I can wear a belt with them, but unfortuntely it makes me look like I am wearing a nappy as they bag quite horribly around the front. Either that or a look of someone who hasn't had the full sex change ops yet! Not attractive.

The fact that I now have a figure coming back to me is very exciting. So, I thought I would celebrate this with some new interim jeans, a pair that look like they might actually fit. I toddled off into erdington - I wasn't prepared to go into Birmingham, half term shopping? No thank you. To my excitement I found that I could actually squeeze myself into size 12 jeans in new look, but they were all too low cut. I felt slightly dirty looking at jeans in new look (it was like cheating) so I put down the size 12s and went into Dotty P's. I only ever buy jeans from Dorothy or Next because they are long enough for me. However, skinny jeans were abundant. The beautiful high waisted flared jeans on the poster were no where in sight.

Needless to say, the size 12s didn't get any where near my bum! I am not built for skinny Jeans - no one should be, they are wrong on all sorts of levels. As the world is not ready for me flaunting myself in super tight denim, I meandered back out of the shop, avoiding the frilly tops that were calling me (the world is not ready for me in frills either!).

So my old jeans were slightly hurt at me looking for a replacement, but welcomed me back with open arms. Soft and saggy, they made me feel so comfortable. I didn't care that they were slightly trampy looking anymore, I love them and I don't want to lose them just yet!

Flowers? . . . For me?!!

Just to show how much I love Daffodils, I wanted to share the piccies of my flowers. Caroline bought me a lovely bunch on Friday night which just look wonderful in my kitchen. Steve bought me much daintier ones, but sooooooo pretty. Daffs are such happy flowers, they radiate sunshine and smiles. And they are cheap!! I challenge anyone not to see the beauty in these simple flowers. Such a simple pleasure in life that brings so much joy!