Don't wait

If you want to do something wonderful, don't wait.  Do it now.  If you've long said to yourself, oooh I've always wanted to........ then stop wanting and start doing.  Be brave.  Time passes by.  Time doesn't wait. The old cliche is true - time waits for no man (or woman, or child).

Do something wonderful today.

Do something wonderful right now.

Do something just for you.

Don't wait.

Just do it.

xx

Finding my way

I've been a single parent since July this year.  I'm slowly getting used to going it alone.  It can be challenging at times and it is certainly hugely tiring.  I must say that I admire parents.  I admire all parents.  Even those parents that aren't doing their best.  Yet single parents strike me as the one's that demand the most recognition.

Not every parent is brilliant at their job, but in the majority of cases, I think this is because the job is very difficult.  In my view, most parents, regardless of their family configuration do their best, most of the time.

Surprisingly, given the first few paragraphs, this blog isn't about parenting.  It's about finding my way.  It's about knowing who I am and being true to myself.  For the longest time, I've tried really hard to squeeze my square peg self into round holes.  In other words, I've tried to fit in.  I've tried to find happiness by searching for the perfect romantic partner or a career that ticks all my boxes.  I've discovered that these things do not make me happy.  To generalise, these things don't make people happy.  Happiness is something else. Being yourself is something else too.

By throwing myself in at the parenting deep end, by single parenting my toddler.  By spending more time on my own.  By ceasing my perpetual search for a soulmate.  By knowing that I'd like a job but realising that the 'right' one won't make me happy.  By doing all these things, I am finding my way back to me.  By living in the moment.  By noticing my surroundings.  By playing with my daughter.  By acknowledging people's kindness.  By being politely assertive.  By being happy with myself.  I am finding my way towards happiness.  Real happiness.  The kind that isn't fleeting but is almost perpetual.

In the end, when I look back upon my life, it won't be the things that I did that will matter.  What will matter, will be how I felt doing those things.  If I can look back upon my life and say, I was mostly happy, I will have achieved everything that truly matters.

xx

 

Class of 1991 Joint 40th School Reunion - be there!

School days, in many respects, were the best of your life. No responsibilities and totally care-free (apart from exams). School was a time of friends, of fun, the first crush, the first kiss and of course the first experience of love. In fact, school was a myriad of firsts.

So imagine a School Reunion filled with a mass of 40 year olds. Imagine it. Scary. But scary in a good way. That's exactly what my school friends have arranged for May 2015!

Of course some of my school buddies won't have reached full maturity by May 2015. Some will be hanging on, desperately, pointlessly to 39. But most of us will be aged, sorry, ahem, most of us will be in full flirt with life begins at.......

We, that is, my school buds and I, have had a few school reunions already. I was fortunate enough to attend the first one. It was a fantastically wild evening. We were all younger then but still old enough to rock the dancefloor. I have no doubt that this upcoming Class of 1991 Joint 40th School Reunion will be just as fabulous.

There will be music and dancing. There will be alcohol and chips. What else does a fabulous 40 year old need?

Here is a little more info:

Date: 23rd May 2015

Time: 19.30 until 1am (brace yourselves!)

Where: The Bank Corner Pub, 12 Lawton Road, Alsager, ST7 2AF

Tickets: Must be bought in advance from Rachel, Hayley, Suzanne or Melissa

Visit Facebook for more:

https://www.facebook.com/events/359140660926026/?fref=ts


The all important menu:




Soooooo, if you went to Alsager School (or Alsager Comprehensive School, as it was known then), and were of the class of 1991, do buy a ticket and be there. Clearly, you'd be a damn fool to miss it.



xx

Happiness

Happiness doesn't arrive on a train.  You can't buy a ticket for it.  It doesn't descend upon you.  True happiness is created through the person.  Believe yourself to be happy and happiness there exists.

I choose to be happy.  Right here.  Right now.  Happy.  Terrible things may happen, as terrible things often do.  I will feel sad, when terrible things happen.  I will feel compassion and empathy.  I will feel angry.  But happiness will be my mainstay.

For the longest time, I have waited for happiness to come to me.  I was searching for it.   But I was searching out there, rather than searching in here.

I've read various books that tell you, in an array of different ways, that happiness is self-created.  I read the words.  I thought, yes, that sounds right then carried on searching out there.  Thus true happiness has always eluded me.

I always thought my soulmate would make me happy.  I thought having a child would make me happy.  I didn't realise that I could make me happy.  Children and romantic love can be wonderful but happiness can only come from me.

I can have moments of sheer bliss with my daughter.  I can laugh with my heart.  But as magical as these moments are, true happiness has to come from me.

I'm partly writing these words to remind me, partly to share my thoughts and partly to declare that from this moment, I am happy.

I choose to be happy because happiness is a choice and only I have the power to make it for myself.

xxx

 

The beehive bun is chavtastic

There appears to be a hair craze sweeping the nation.  I call it the beehive bun.  I have no idea as to it's official name or even if it has one but about 80% of the women I see have a back-combined, high bun planted on top of their heads.

I should clarify, the beehive bun is seemingly only popular with the same women that wear floral jumpsuits.  The kind of outfit that was hitherto only 'acceptable' in the 80s.  The 80s was also responsible for neon and mobile phones the size of house bricks, thus 80s throwback fashions are not good and should be avoided at a wide berth.

The beehive bun, at least, as it appears to me, is symbolic of Chavdom or symbiotic with Chavdom.  In other words, it is intrinsically part of Chavdom.  You have a beehive bun ergo you are a Chav. No question, no 50:50, no phone a friend or Jeremy Kyle Show debate about it.  Likewise, and perhaps rather obviously, the floral, 80s throwback jumpsuit also = Chav.  You may as well don a Shell Suit and get yourself a black, curly Kevin Keegan wig.

Chavdom is not something to strive for. Chavdom is something to stride away from, really, really quickly.

If you are reading this and have a beehive bun, dismantle it.  If you are reading this whilst wearing or indeed simply owing a floral jumpsuit - grunge it up or charity shop it.

Just saying.............

xx

Tattoo love

So I have fallen in love or maybe it's obsession.  I haven't fallen for a man or, for that matter, a woman, I've fallen in love with tattoos.  A tattoo or two had long been on my to do list.  I was always a little bit scared of the pain.  As it transpired, I had reason to be, it does hurt but not as much as you'd imagine. 

As at this very moment, I have two tattoos. I have five more planned.  It's work-in-progress.  If I had the money, I'd just get them all done as quickly as schedules allowed but pennies or rather the lack thereof prevents fast progress. 

My tattoos thus far are mistletoe and the number 57.  Mistletoe relates to kisses.  57 is both a Biffy Clyro song and my lucky number. 

Planned tattoos include: a clock, a stylised amber rose, a butterfly tree and a line drawn butterfly.  I'm a little hazy on the locations.  But the butterfly tree is definitely going on my upper back. 

Pictures:  57 has been created today so it is a little sore and somewhat darker than it will be in a week or so. 

xx

Turkish Delight and Rocky Road

I bought a piece of Rocky Road today.  On top my cakey pleasure zone, I found two pieces of Turkish Delight.  Two!  Time was that I would be horrified by such an occurrence but today I found myself delighted. Well, the name does suggest that I should be and actually, I really really was.  It might have been the most beautiful part of the cake.  I liked it soooo much that I'm ignoring the calories and getting some more.

Rocky Road with Turkish Delight - as Peter Kay might say, it's the future.   

Mmmmm. 

xx