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.