Tuesday, August 23, 2005

a friend said

When it comes down to it, most of us are very conservative in our love choices.

maybe she's right.
not sure I do conservative in anything well though.

being unconventional always interested me more.
this weekend Julie B divided the world, via her column, into bohemians (or Bohos as we brits seem to now call them), and bourgeoisie. The latter I think was intentionally antagonistic, even the conventional 2.4 kids and a 4x4 surburban dweller, would probably object to the label. Not without reason.

I loved the column
Partly cos I've been grappling with the sudden outbreak into conventionality amongst my circles.
And thinking, horses for courses and all that, but please, save me from settling.
Save me from choosing a mate on the basis 'if I don't hurry up all the good ones may be gone' (I kid you not, someone said that to me, surely not, they're all just about to come on the market again I reckon, mid thirties, ripe for the courts...!)
Save me from covering up my cleavage in case someone thinks I'm a whore cos my best asset look better out than under a jumper, 'it's shelf avoidance', I say to that lady. A ledge between your chin and your navel is matronly. An out there who cares cleavage, is in my book, more admirable and aesthetically pleasing.

Ok, so maybe I'm not into the Julie B snort your way to distance from 'respectable living' stuff, but, ditching that, I'm standing firm in my right to do a Frank. Do it my way. And yes, you're all probably right, my way will probably end in tears, yet ladies and gentlemen, if it doesn't, well, the stakes were high, but, in my opinion, worth playing for.

The potential prize, a life, true to myself. Even if it's tougher than my dino-feet, harder than a 50 year old virgin's cock poised unsteadily over a, first time, issue of playboy.....(Surely, the metaphor's worth overcoming, for the idea behind it?) I think so... That's a life worth taking risks for I reckon. Watch this space, egg on face, most likely, en route....

Monday, August 22, 2005

that last post feels dishonest

Cos it was such a small part of a big story. Suffice to say, I've been back to Bali. the answers I was looking for, are it seems, locatable only inside myself. The tale's in need of telling, in fact, was just minutes ago told in full. Sadly I lost the post and the night's closing in, so it'll have to wait. I'll be back, tell it again, in the meantime you get the idea.

Why hopeless romantics?

Surely real romance, should never be hopeless?
Surely the edges of romances are about risk, taking it when the die's not cast enough to say 'crazy' or 'courageous'. Results unknown, bravey respected regardless?


Unconditional love strikes me as the most romantic notion in the world, but the hardest to acheieve.

I know, I've been trying. I'm used to success, but not, it would seem, in that particular arena.

Anyone I'd never consider hopeless, got any ideas on how to get there?

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

give me the world according to Douglas Adams

Just seen, adored, the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy. I can chill out apparently. the answer to life, the universe and everything is, 46. Problems duly solved, search for answers, abandoned!

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Navigating the limitations of the bloggerspehere

You all know me well enough by now to know I'm hardly one of those 'very private person' people. Far from it. I'm a plummet through life, writing the disasters up for your amusement, kind of woman.

If that sounds like the prefix to something a tad more secretive, it is.
Before you all start emailing me going, 'do tell, I'm different to general blog audience' I should say, I will, just give me a while.

I'm being upfront about this because the last time I had a secret to keep from the blog followers, along the lines of rediscovering sausage, (see previous blog, www.talesofachocolatelovinggypsy.blogspot.com) it drove me a tad mad. The world of half truths, great big whoppers told via omission, is just not one I travel through lightly. Don't get me wrong, I'm as happy as the next woman to indulge in the 'no, big?, don't be crazy' whole untruths when faced with the 'is my arse huge?' compliment fishing of friends and family. On the 'me stuff' I write about however, the rules are different.

Maybe the whole Byron / Shelley / Keats obsession with truth (and let's not forget beauty), had something in it.

Maybe I'm just conforming to the writer stereotype well before I need to. Blog stardom is, let's face it, hardly forthcoming via this particular introspective vehicle.

Regardless, I need to be honest with you lot. When I'm not, it pains me. It stops me writing. Or causes me to write meaningless nonsense (see top 13%).

The times, they are a changing, as one very famous poet / songwriter once said. Forgive me if it takes a couple of weeks for me to explain. It's not that I'm scared of sharing, just, I need to work it out for myself first.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Top 13%

There's a new blog every second apparently. Only 13% last more than a month. I'm on my 121st entry and planning to celebrate a number that adds up backwards and forwards to my age.

OK, so it's not a novel, it's not a career in journalism, it's s start however. Please, blog followers, raise your glasses, to blogs, blog supporters and blog stayers. I couldn't have done it without you.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Thank You

My friends and family have a habit of blowing me away. Whilst I've been impoverished and a bit unsettled they've rallied round no end. 'Can I lend you money', 'can I take you for dinner', 'come and stay awhile baby', 'here use my house', ' just till you get settled'.

Not just one person, not just family, not even just the family and the girls from college. All of the above and more, you know who you all are and I want you to know how much I appreciate you all.

For every offer I've said 'thank you so much, i really appreciate it' to, I've turned down ten similar. I've had calls asking how the job hunting's going, emails and sms's and more calls about the latest, the first day, the first week, the first weekend and how much am I anticipating it.

I've had sofa offerings and bed offerings and house offerings and clothes offerings and meals offerings and books sent in the mail and cash, secreted under vases for me to find, slipped into my hand, sent to me, popped into my bank account. If I had a biscuit for every 'let me get....' or 'you know you can always....', I'd be three stone heavier.

I freely admit this cos you all know me well enough to know I don't sponge, and that every gesture will be cherished for a long time and repaid, reciprocated and logged in the giant friendship vault behind my rib cage.

I'm getting sorted now. The salary looms and my time as a nomad seems destined to end soon.

I won't ever forget it though. When the chips are down, believe me, I've known who my friends are. I've known I'm home, right where I belong. To each and every one of you, thank you, a thousand thank yous.