Back On It!

I'm writing this as a hint to my future self that I SHOULD BLOODY BLOG MORE!!!

I've neglected this again.  Mainly because I had no personal computer for a few months, but since October I've not had many excuses other than my lazy brain thinking I have no time.  And I should be in bed now, but here are a few bullet points from the past 5 months:

- Fran is great, walking and making lots of noises and saying random things like 'Duck' and being an inquisitive little madame!  She had a great 1st Birthday Party.  She's more like a little adult now, with feelings and expressions.  Still a long way to go. 
- Stu got sacked from MT.  How I feel about that has ranged from angry to relieved.  He is trying to find another job, and has had some good success so far, but employers really need to be a bit more communicative and not leave people hanging on.  Grrrrrr.
- We are doing the Insanity workout, woohoo!  I'm a stone down so far and it's definitely helping my body to change.  It's a slow process.  I can see a better version of me emerging, one that is constantly fit and taking on new challenges.  The hardest part was starting.  Stu is a great motivator.
- Friends have come and gone again.  I don't bother with the ones that have gone, and certain 'family' members who clearly have no self respect.
- Lots of good things to look forward to.

Specifics to come.  Bed time.

Normal

Been struggling this week, physically, with illness.  Waking up last Sunday with a sore throat has turned laboriously into a hacking cough and, for a couple of days, Exorcist-style vomiting episodes.  I'm not a huge fan of being ill.  A couple of days of doing nothing is OK for me, then I get very bored and start screaming mentally to get up and do stuff.  I often end up getting up anyway and doing things, which tends to exacerbate my symptoms and I'll end up back where I started.  So, Rest Miss Browne.  And bugger going to the Doctors unless I instinctively know it's something serious.  Lemsip and movies.  And thank the lord for the Internet!  Being unwell I tend to find is more of an physiological response to an emotional or mental issue.  In searching for so many answers and trying so hard to do everything, and do everything RIGHT,  I've knackered myself out!  So, the Universe reminds me, Rest Miss Browne.



This week has ended quite nicely, on Father's Day.  Managed to pop outside for a bit to buy a couple of things from the shops, weather was pleasant but breezy.  Made Stu a nice steak dinner, Fran was kinda cool in her new playpen that Grandad Browne got for her, which meant we ate dinner together for the first time in months (normally one of us eats while the other keeps Madame entertained, as she has eyes bigger than her belly!).  They went to bed and I, as my sleep pattern is screwed at the moment, stayed up and watched Little Miss Sunshine on Channel 4.  I love this movie!  It's one of those films I noticed at the time it came out, but never really got round to seeing.  I love films but I'm not a habitual cinema lurker, even though I do enjoy the experience.  Anyway, this film, as usual, had a timely message for me.  I'm glad as well that there's such a thing as a '+1' channel service, as the first time I didn't catch something that Frank (played by Steve Carell) said about being someone.  Frank is a scholar who has tried to kill himself because his scholastic rival (who he considers to be beneath him academically) has stolen his student lover, status and received a MacArthur Grant.  God knows what that is (look it up, I'm not here to teach you everything!), but I guess it is prestigious.  So, he talks about Marcel Proust and suffering... actually, here's a quote I stole from IMDb:

Dwayne: I wish I could just sleep until I was eighteen and skip all this crap-high school and everything-just skip it. 

Frank: Do you know who Marcel Proust is? 

Dwayne: He's the guy you teach. 

Frank: Yeah. French writer. Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he's also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he uh... he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, Those were the best years of his life, 'cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn't learn a thing. So, if you sleep until you're 18... Ah, think of the suffering you're gonna miss. I mean high school? High school-those are your prime suffering years. You don't get better suffering than that

.

There are so many brilliant moments in this film, but that particularly struck a chord with me.  Why the hell am I striving so hard for things to be 'perfect' in my life?  Dwayne says something later about life being "..one fucking beauty contest after another...", which again hit home.  I think I know I am not perfect.  But I so desperately want to be.  Why?  When you question the system and say 'Hey, guys, but it's really not important.  Let's just all live and do our thing and not worry too much about beating each other in this race thing we've created as a myth to bring meaning to our lives...' you get this collective voice of your culture saying 'Ok, do you remember what we've drummed into you since you started breathing air?  That it's better to do, be, and have this than that?  Stick to it.  Trying to do your own thing will only cause a problem.  And you don't want to be a problem now, do you?'

There is also a killer dance scene at the end of the film to 'Superfreak' which made me giggle! A perfect example of the phrase "Dance like no body's watching".

As I sit here tapping away on my notebook, I periodically flick through the TV channels.  Most of them at this time of night are trying desperately to sell you an ideal life.  This bra is so much better, your life will be amazing if you purchase this floor cleaner, you will only be taken seriously as a member of the human race if you own this hair remover.  I always wonder, if these things are so awesome, why aren't they sold in a big supermarket?

I've had myself worrying for years that other people are doing so much better than me.  Oh, she's jetting off to the US.  Look at their car, I bet it doesn't break down.  How cool would it be to own a house like they do?   Their kids look so happy, they must be brilliant parents.  Balls to that.  What this film has sparked in me, and what I knew all along but I seem to explain in a million different ways, is that I'm not perfect.  Life is not perfect.  And I should stop trying to make it so.  The crap bits make you a real person and give you lessons.  The nice bits are nice, and you can take all the pictures and videos and souvenirs you want, but they won't last and they don't do much other than reward you for going through some crap and give you a high that you're forever chasing.  Like some messed up drug addict who insists they'll stop tomorrow.  Now, this sounds a bit negative... OK, it sounds A LOT negative, but here's the kicker; it's good to be free of the idyllic thoughts.  There's nothing really wrong with wanting more out of life, but it's a lot healthier without the game play.  It gives you room to breathe.  You don't have to suck your gut in anymore when you're with your skinny mate.  Relax.  It's not a competition.  The minute you actually believe that, and really go with it, Life will get better.  I've had my times of letting go of safety rope and not following the path.  Those are the times when you are so fucking scared but at the same time completely open, relaxed and, most importantly, truly able to live your purpose.  I wrote in my little biog on Instagram that "Life is not a popularity contest."  (I'm still not sure about that place.  I take my pictures and put them up, but it feels a bit like I'm in school again and all the cool kids are hanging out together and trying to work out who's cooler.  You can even BUY followers on there now!  Seriously, what the fuck has society come to when a person thinks a great business idea is to sell you popularity??  Anyway...).  Be a freak.  Be your beauty.  Do what you think is right for your kids.  Play your own tunes.  Live (and dance) like no body's watching. 

So, what I'm basically saying is - Stop drinking the Kool Aid.  It tastes nasty.

In other news, dear old Fran is loving life in her swanky new play pen (I'll stick a picture in here when I can be arsed) and tottering around quite quickly now.  She's so close to walking unaided it's scary.  I look at pictures of her when she was born, a little squinged up thing with a permanent scowl, and it's like she's transformed in a week.  So fast.  There's another thing that's kinda annoyed me.  Other people's attitudes to you having kids.  I was a militant anti-child bearer when I was in my teens and early twenties (on the basis that there are so many kids without homes and parents, why keep bringing new ones in when you can help those instead?).  It's funny now to see, hear and read younger folks' rhetoric.  "Oh, I'm not having kids, they smell and take up too much space and you have no life and they're so awkward and I hate it when people put pictures of their kids everywhere and what's with all that stuff parents carry around with them when they have a kid?" Blah blah blah.  Listen, maybe when I was 17, hell, maybe even 24, I would've agreed with some of that.  But how disrespectful are you to your parents by saying that?  I guess they shouldn't have bothered with the effort of bringing up your ungrateful arse!  The argument for having kids is cloudy enough, there are so many reasons why people have them.  But, biologically, the only reason us Humans have been able to survive and improve as a species is following our basic natural urges and procreating the hell out of ourselves.  Thought I'm not sure the improvement element is valid in some cases...  And, I too used to get a bit annoyed with people who went on about their kids all the time.  I tend not to, although people ask and I will answer, but I do put up pictures because I'm proud of what Stuart and I have created.  If gives life a bit more meaning than wearing some shit overpriced clothes or getting a pointless promotion at work for a job you are neither skilled at or enjoy, or getting your picture taken with a celebrity.  And, Fuck It, my child is pretty!  Anyway, I laugh at people sometimes, especially those who say, "I will never...", as I know they likely will.  Just like me (I've kinda tied in the blog title again to one of my blogs, which is nice).  In 10 years time when you're knee deep in nappies and moaning about lack of sleep, I shall smile to myself.

Now, back to my Lemsip.

Real

While I write this, I have this song in my head, partly because of Miss Anna Hornostaj, and partly because the idea has been floating around my head for ages about 'being Real'.  Not Reem. (God I hate that word and all it stands for!) But Real.

I always have tons of ideas in my noggin, the main issue being the pinning down of said ideas.  This stupid fear and self esteem (rhymes with Reem... Argh!  I've done it again) crap tends to get in the way on the bad days.  On the good days, I feel invincible.  Still, no matter what circumstances you have or how you are feeling that particular day, what makes one person get up and keep going while the other one sits in despair?  Normally confusion.

If you feel like you still have a clear purpose or goal, you can be upset for a short while, then your brain clicks back into gear and says, "C'mon mate, let's get going, we've got energy left in the tank and a lot of adventures to face...".  Whereas when the outlook is cloudy, you're usually left feeling like you're swimming in sand.  It's this mental ambiguity I don't like.

A lot of the time when you are in the brain swamp, it's because you've lost your way.  You got distracted or started listening to other people or became self conscious.  To me, it seems that, no matter how appearances may seem, I've been chasing all the wrong or right things for the wrong reasons.  People, money, status, power.  Where does your heart's desire fit into your life if you prioritise what other people think you should be doing, or compare your living standards favourably (or unfavourably) to everyone you encounter?  Now, I'm not talking about the surface trash that's indoctrinated from birth into our culture.  Or maybe I am, because this current culture has made the shallow extremes our daily focus.  If someone deletes you on a social network or says something derogatory about you to another person, you feel like you have to discuss it with someone if you find out (But if you never knew, would you care?  The old 'tree in the forest' question) and then you have to justify it with open speech.  I am very guilty of running my mouth for every annoyance that comes my way.  Now I'm speculating whether it's time to stop focusing on such meaningless, petty bullshit and start listening to my head and heart?

The answer to that previous question is 'Yes', by the way!  I sometimes find myself stopping and checking what I'm about to do or say, purely for someone or something Else's benefit.  I shall endeavour from now on to be more Real to me.  I'm the one that has to live with me, do my hard work and clean up my own mess.  And make my mistakes.  They're not even mistakes; they're lessons for my future self.  Sometimes, when I'm working out (yes, it doesn't happen often, but it's a reality) I imagine Fit Erica is screaming at Fat Erica to do one more rep or finish the set strong, to keep going for one more minute past exhausted.  Fit Erica, or I shall call her Focused Erica, is not dissimilar to me.  She just knows what she's doing.

I haven't quite figured it out yet.  And that, my friends, is the aim of the puzzle.  And this post.  I need clarity.  Strength is there, Intelligence is consistent, Happiness is a good friend and Confidence likes to give me a poke at some point during the day to pick me up.

Not only is it important for me to get going now, but it is vital for my daughter's well being and for strong relationships with my family and good friends.  There are so many thoughts, feelings and waves of spiritual energy straining to come out of every pore.  Can't be afraid to use them anymore.  The wrong people and situations will not understand this and will fall away as nature intends, leaving the right people and things I want on my path.

Being Real means it's time for me to walk into the spotlight.  Are you coming with me?

Quick one before bed

Here is a picture of my wonderful daughter, taken Tuesday 5th June, in her Onesy that her Uncle Adrian bought her at Christmas which now fits.  Kinda.  Must get to bed, but lots of stories and thoughts to share.  I neglect you, Reader.  I apologise.

Belief

"If you believe, you'll find a way." - Jocelyn Brown

I actually started writing this blog in my head when I was doing the washing up a few minutes ago, so this may come out as a bit of a jumble, but we'll get there, dear Reader.  I'm also getting totally distracted by 'Die Hard' on the TV.  It was the good bit where Alan Rickman falls out of the window in slow-mo.  The CGI looks so dated now, but we thought it was so amazing in the cinema, right?  Anyway...

What do you believe in?  Ghosts?  Santa Claus?  A working democracy?  Often when people mention Belief it is immediately connected to religion.  I was just thinking about my personal beliefs and attitude towards life and religion, and I theorised thus; I am a little bit afraid of explaining my personal beliefs to people.  I do feel like I have to justify my position with a long speech about spirituality and thoughtfulness.  Why do I feel like that?

I think it's because Belief, and especially religious Belief, is such a personal journey, that to question a person's belief system is akin to denying their existence.  You can banter with someone about their football team, sexuality, race, gender, family, all sorts.  But try to challenge a person on what their soul represents.  Their faith.  No, you will not get away with that so easily.  Wars are fought based on religious beliefs, and the bigger the perceived army of followers, the longer the battle.  Plus, my beliefs aren't completly tied to one branch of organised religion or spirituality.

This is how I feel about organised religion.  I think a lot of it is down to perception, and it's a bit like Chinese whispers.  A Hebrew phrase for "some stuff happened today with a guy and some water, I'm not sure but it looked pretty awesome!" has turned into "And this guy called Jesus came and turned the water into wine, and it was awesome!".  It also seems pretty clear to me that all the major religions are referring to one higher power, they're just having petty arguments about the details.  Like having a peace treaty and everyone involved wanting to name it after their own town.  I also feel that people are very particular about what they choose to believe within that religion.  One man's peaceful vision is another man's 'hate on everyone that doesn't agree with what we believe'.  So, when you try to have a conversation about Religious thought, a person will do their damnedest to defend what they have chosen for fear of being deemed either stupid or mad.  Having a belief system is being asked by whomever called you to have some blind faith.

And this idea of one religion being seen as morally better than another drives me mad.  Just because something is more popular and has more followers, doesn't mean it's good or right.  Look at One Direction.  (I was gonna post a picture here of the 1D boys, but then I realised that a) I'm not a fucking Cracked.com writer, and b) I'd actually have to search for that shit and I can't bring myself to do that)  For hundreds of years Missionaries have travelled to countries to do what they see as their Lord's work, promising those poor, ignorant souls in underdeveloped places that if they follow X, Y or Z they will be prosperous in all sorts of ways.  If you went to a bunch of people now and tried to tell them about believing in something they've never heard of before, whether you are right or wrong, you'd be labelled a nut and told to take your cult elsewhere.

My religion?  Well, I was brought up in the good old Church Of England.  Old faithful.  I don't completely dismiss it, but I don't think I should just ride with the flow just because somebody told me to when I was young.  I do not subscribe to the idea of the big man in the flowing white robes (who said it was a man anyway?) or the guy in the sandals with the beard who looks suspiciously white for a Middle Eastern dude...  I believe in a higher power.  And myself.  I think there is so much more to our minds, and to our Universe, that is woefully unexplored, and we have a connection to everything and everyone around us.  We often talk about Luck, Déjà vu, Coincidences, The Law of Attraction, Déjà vu (OK, crap joke.), but because we can't explain anything scientifically or it doesn't have any basis in traditional religion, they aren't always taken seriously.  I have small blessings and signals sent to me all the time, but just as with any faith, it is up to me to not only choose to see them, but to choose to accept them.  And these things are not so far removed from the teachings of organised religion.  Luck is positive faith.  The Law of Attraction is asking for the right things to come into your life, as you do with prayer.


And they interweave.  For example, I was in a bit of a pickle this week, trying to get my pram with Fran inside off a very busy Jubilee line train carriage while a bunch of selfish fuckwits tried to pile on.  I am trying very hard not to curse in front of her nowadays.  It was easier when she didn't understand, but now she's babbling and repeating things we say, I really don't want to be that woman in the Doctors' surgery with the little girl who can't walk yet but can call the receptionist a fucking eejit (!!).  As I was getting off the train finally (after kicking someone's suitcase too), my frustration caused me to utter the words "Jesus wept!" loudly.  Now, as I explained earlier, I'm not that into religion, and going to church and Sunday school when I was kid does not qualify me to recall Bible verses.  I even went to a church last week for a Christening, and I made the joke that the walls weren't bleeding and it didn't burn to the ground while I was there (I'm pretty sure if there is a Heaven & Hell, Satan's already got my hot seat reserved).  That phrase has never left my lips before.  The next day, there was a question on a quiz show about the amount of words in the shortest verse in The Bible.  The answer was 2.  Those words were: "Jesus wept."  Stuff like that happens to me all the time.  Sometimes I know what it means, sometimes it makes no sense whatsoever at the time but then I'll get another clue or hint at the right time.  And that's another thing I believe.  Keeping your mind on your journey, focusing, listening out for the signals and making those requests, all good and should be practised every day, but The Universe will give you what you seek when the time is right.  My friend Suzy had the book 'The Secret' on her bedroom floor which I spotted when I was visiting one day.  This book had cropped up in things I had been reading about for a while, but when I went to Waterstone's and saw how much it was, I couldn't justify the price and put it back.  She let me borrow her copy and I read it voraciously.  It felt good for a while, to think so positively and have that level of random happiness in my life, but after a few weeks the effect wore off and I couldn't work out why.  It took a little longer to understand, but I got it eventually.

No religion or belief system is going to do everything you want it to or answer all your questions.  No process is perfect.  You have to go out there and read, research, talk, listen, experience.  And one size does not fit all.  There are elements of Christianity that appeal to me, as do parts of Islamic teachings about respect, Buddhist teachings about inner peace, and all sorts of other things.  Even Atheism is fascinating.

A final thought on this subject; I do respect other people's journeys with their souls and faith and understand their personal reasons.  I will never respect a person who tries to ram their religious ideals down my throat.  I am not ignorant because I choose to view things my way; you are ignorant if you treat those who don't agree with you with disdain.

Random thought: There's a bit of the Warhorse film score that they play in the trailer that sounds exactly like the chorus of 'Grenade' by Bruno Mars.  It's bugging me.  I wonder if anyone else has noticed?  Just thought I'd add that..

Read it, don't read it

One of my brother's friends, who I'm friends with on Facebook, made a very valid point earlier by way of a tweet. You'll understand the slight irony in all of this when you read further on.

He said that people treat social networking sites like popularity contests, and that Twitter made a mistake using the term 'followers'. I'm not directly quoting here, but that's the gist of his tweet. I'm inclined to agree with him.

I don't do Twitter. I've looked at it maybe twice. I don't get the appeal; it seems like a lot of fuss for 140 characters or less and I can't be dealing with all that '@' and '#' nonsense, although I've used the odd hash tag recently, mainly for comedic effect, on Facebook. And, I have FACEBOOK! Why do I need to record my thoughts in so many different places (see, I told you there would be irony)?

Recently I've started using Instagram, a handy little app on the iPhone (think they're working on the Android version now) that lets you take pictures and apply funky filters so your pics look a bit cooler. That's pretty much it. Jazzing up phone pics. I'm just starting to understand the etiquette, but there is an awful amount of elitism. Subscribing to a user's feed is also referred to as 'following' on there, and it seems people spend an awful amount of time begging for likes and followers, saying they'll. 'like 5 of yours if you like 3 of mine' and 'plssssss follow meeeee', stuff like that. Why? What's so important about how many people clicked a button which added an extra digit to a number on a screen? You're not going to connect emotionally with these people. They're not your friends. The footballer Cesc Fabregas is on there, he has a 5-digit number of followers, but only follows 2 users. Do you think he gives a shit? He has 6 pictures on Instagram, he's got better things to do than worry about his follower count.

I get what social networking does for people, it makes the world smaller and connects you instantly to old and new friends, shows you things you might never otherwise experience unless you travel, and most importantly, it informs. I think, unfortunately, a lot of people do treat their pages like 'Let's see how many people I can get to notice my digital existence' games.

So, what are my pages for? Well Instagram is because I used to do photography and I like taking photos, Facebook is for sharing bits of info, photos and keeping in touch with people I care about, and this here blog is for indulging my ego and ranting about shit I don't like. That's it. If 2 people or 2000 people read my stuff or look at my pics, what does that matter? It's the *right* people I'm after.

Sometimes...

... the Universe doesn't need to send you gifts or great epiphanies or remove the obstacles from your path.

Sometimes the only thing the Universe has to do is remind you of how blessed you already are.

Alone

I was just talking to Stu while I was in the bath about my 'Wasteman/Wastegyal' (use as appropriate) friends who it seems like I'm forever chasing. Stu was very vocal in his opinions about having to pursue friendships. I often get into the same mindset as him, you know "Fuck 'em, they're not bothered so why should I be?" which is understandable, but then I soon forget and I go back to normal service. But when he finished talking, I had a thought of my own: I'm a fucking Queen! I do whatever I like, sod the subjects, they can come along for the ride or not, I rule!!

I'm thinking tomorrow I might have a 'Me Party'. Before the days of motherhood and partnership, I spent a good couple of years getting to know me again and learning to enjoy my own company. Partly because it was time to do so, partly because my scumbag ex left me flat broke and in debt, and partly because I'd had so much trauma from the scumbag ex that I really needed the time out. Yeah, I socialised and laughed and worked and functioned, but it was all a bit meaningless when you've been pushed to the very depths of your soul and had to make life changing decisions.

I just realised where I was going with that, and I've had to think about whether I want to go there or not. Fuck it, it's part of my life and who I am. Not many people know this , but I chose to terminate a pregnancy during the same long, drawn out period of breaking up with the ex. I told him about it after we were done, he was more concerned about quizzing me on whether I'd been sleeping with one of my friends behind his back. I really can't be arsed to go into the minute details of our pointless relationship, but anyone who knows me will know that for him to quiz me on my fidelity was a massive fucking cheek considering his blatant lying, cheating and theft. And no, I didn't cheat on him. As the months dragged on and it occurred to me a) what he was up to, and b) my physical ache wasn't just down to stress, I had to decide very quickly if I wanted to produce a life into the world with this man. Judging by how he treated his son and son's mother, I knew I would get zero input from him. I would spend a lifetime loving this child but resenting its existence, then poisoning its mind against the deadbeat father they had, and all other men who happened to cross our path and put a foot wrong. It was such a hard decision to make, and I don't believe for second it was all based on him. If I'd spent less time believing in the power of love and more in the power of my common sense, things wouldn't have gotten so bad. Do I regret it? Yes and no. I was aware of many doctors telling me it would be nigh on impossible for me to become pregnant naturally because of my PCOS and weight, so it always felt like a missed opportunity. And I believe she was with me, she had a soul. Yes, I think it was a girl. I was around 8 weeks so we'll never know for sure. She would've been 5 this year. On the other hand, I don't think it would've been fair in any way to bring a child into the world who wasn't wanted by both parents and who would have a hard time reconciling their feelings about this man as they grew up. So yeah, that's the basics of that situation.

Anyway, back to my original point. I was very down, very poor (I remember a month where, after I'd paid all my bills and for my shopping and travel card, I had 12p in my purse) and felt pretty alone. When you're really down on your luck, a lot of people disappear. They can't deal with your emotions and transition. I had to find ways to save money and stay stress-free. I walked around London a lot, started to do Yoga and ate a lot of 8p noodles! I began to appreciate my surroundings, the walking gave me time to think and work stuff out, and I discovered places I'd never have bothered to look at if I was still wrapped up in dream land. I worked on my confidence. I didn't need to have people to go out with. Don't get me wrong, I love talking to people, but I'm at my most joyful smelling fresh air, feeling the sun on my skin and listening to my favourite songs. Music also played a very important part in my 'self therapy'. I lost a lot of weight, focused on my happiness and attracting a better man into my life when I needed him and sorted out my finances.

Eventually, I knew everything would be ok, and it is. My second chance at motherhood (I firmly believe the Universe sends you things when it knows you're ready for them; the first time I chose to ignore the sign, I don't need to be told twice!) is sleeping soundly with my best (boy)friend and tomorrow I get the chance to have another one of my 'Me Parties'. Think I'll take myself somewhere nice for lunch and a good long walk, despite the rubbish weather.

Boredom

Today I was a bit pissed off because I was bored. I walked up Shooters Hill to Welling, saw a rat and did a bit of food shopping. I was meant to go out this evening with my friend Toby but he was waiting for a mate of his to arrive from Spain. So nothing happened and I was tired and cold and feeling a bit sorry for myself. As I'm trying to rock Fran to sleep, I've just seen an advert featuring Lady Gaga. It occurred to me that as much as I crave adventure and excitement, Lady Gaga must have days where she's utterly bored of having to wear some costume and be witty or creative. I bet she has days where all she wants to do is sit down in front of the TV watching an old Derren Brown show, eating pickled onions while her child tries to chew on her extensions.
I bet Beyonce has those days too.
And I bet Robbie Williams is looking forward to it.

I am truly blessed to be a mother and every day is a miraculous discovery. But even the best of us have an 'off' day. Mine now continues with a child who has grown tired of my hair (and sleep, it seems) and is now having a good old moan while her father tries to appease her.

1st Step

Today I am beginning.
Today I am starting a new chapter. A journey, as many refer to it.

I am starting from a place of love and acceptance. People often start important journeys because they hate something about themselves or experience pain or fear from whatever it is. I understand that. It has never worked for me though, not in the long run. Besides, how on earth are you going to improve yourself if you can't see how worthy you are now?

So, I'm not perfect. This was never meant to be the right time. I don't have enough money, tools, support or experience. And, most importantly, there is no map for this journey, which makes me very afraid of what I'm about to encounter. But, I must make the best of today. I must start today. And today, I am good enough, I have lots of support, I have enough money and I can get the tools as I go along. I will gain experience from progress.

It's pretty good to be me right now. :-)

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step." I can't recall who said this, but you understand the significance.

Lost & Found

I've finally found a time when Fran is snoozing and I've decided to leave the washing and cleaning til later. Been putting off writing for so long. Well, that and the fact that I've only had proper 'tinernet for a week now. Trying to blog on Stu's phone is quite awkward when you're trying to type what you're thinking, and as I explained before, my phone has a tendency to crash. My old phone, that is. I swear, when I decided on the title of this blog, I never knew how prophetic it would be. I've done so many things in the past year and a bit that are so against all my common sense and thinking. I'm wondering if that is the secret to life? I saw a good TED speech (Google it) on You Tube about getting things done, and the basic gist was, "You know that thing you don't want to do? Well do that. And do it now."

So now I have an iPhone. I've not started using it yet because I need to install some new software on my Mac. I've always hated them because of what they represent: conformity. Being a sheep. When I first moved to London and began to commute every day on the Tube, I noticed a peculiar thing:

1. EVERYBODY had an iPod and was very self aware.
2. EVERYBODY was reading Harry Potter (don't get me started on that, adults showing off that they're reading trendy kids' books on the train? Fuck off!) and Dan Brown.
3. EVERYBODY was rocking touch screen phones when they were just becoming accessible to the masses.

This isn't to say that I've not owned something that has proven to be popular in its time (tell me you never had a Nokia 3210?), but I like to think I made these choices without looking around at my fellow commuters and thinking, "He has one of those.  He looks cool.  I want to look cool.  I will buy the same thing."  I love Apple products, they are beautifully made and much more reliable than PCs etc., but it's like people peed themselves when they saw Apple were going to make a phone and it became a status symbol rather than a necessity.

So, despite all that blah above, I let the woman in the T-Mobile upgrades department talk me into ordering an iPhone.  It's sitting in a box on this very desk, taunting me.  Another thing I said I would never do.  Own an iPhone.

Baaaa.

The Girl With Something In Her Eye

The girl woke up. She rubbed her eyes and felt something in her right eye.
She got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Half asleep, she peered into the bathroom mirror and held open her right eyelids with her left hand fingers. She could see an eyelash on her eyeball. She lifted it off with her index finger.

FIN.

Long time coming...

Why hello friends!
Long time no write, eh? I've got no internet in my new abode as yet and every time I try to write a blog through my phone it crashes. So here I am on Stu's phone trying to communicate with the world. I'll write a bunch of gumpf about what I've been up to soon. But first...

Lucy and I were just chatting on the phone and she asked me what 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo' is about. I said I wasn't sure, but the resulting conversation inspired me to bring to you this exciting new series. Look out for my short story collection. I'll blog them as I think of them. Lucy may produce illustration at some point, and (if any big Hollywood producers are reading this) we've thought of some big name stars to appear in each episode. :-)

Meanwhile, things are good. Fran is over four months now, growing stronger every day. She's teething which obviously isn't the most pleasant experience for her but she's coping well. Stu is an amazing father. She's definitely Daddy's little Princess, hehe!