When my husband goes out to shoot gigs in the evening I take the opportunity to watch a particularly girlie movie that he doesn’t enjoy as much. It was on one of these nights that I watched “The Vow” in which a young wife looses all memory of the last few years of her life, including any memory of her husband, who then tries to make his wife fall in love with him again.
It got me thinking what it would be like if that happened to me. What if I woke up with the last 10 years wiped clean from my memory? What would the me of 10 years ago think of my life now? Would I be disappointed in how things turned out?
At 20 I had certain things I was expecting to happen in my life and certain ideas of what I thought was important.
It is no secret that I like to be in control, I believe that is one of the reasons I hate roller-coasters - the complete lack of control I experience; that and my unbelievable fear of heights. I have even tried to be in control of my husband’s career. If you are thinking that that sounds a little too controlling you would be absolutely correct, I was too controlling. In my finite wisdom, I thought that my plan for my husband’s career and for our future was perfect. Yet every suggestion I made and everything I attempted would fall short, hit a brick wall and come to nothing. One day I decided to make a deal with God, (I’m not sure if making deals with God is advised but I do believe He will meet us where we are and help when we go to Him with an honest and open heart). I told God that for a short while I was going to stop trying to control things and stop doing things my way.
It was really difficult for me to do but I submitted everything everyday to God. What I came to realize was that I didn’t actually trust God. I didn’t trust that He actually does want what’s best for us; I didn’t trust His plan was better than mine. Within a week of me giving up my “control” I began to see God’s hand in my husband’s career. He had already opened up opportunities that I never could have orchestrated.
If I woke up with no recollection of the last 10 years and looked at my life now, I’m not sure if I would be delighted or disappointed. I do know that each hardship I have endured has made me the person I am and each decision made has led me to this point. I also know that there is amazing freedom in losing my control over everything and submitting it to God and trusting that His ways are higher than ours and He ultimately knows best.
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Fleeting Obsession
Every now and then there is a song that comes along that you love the instant you hear it; you immediately want to share it with all you know. It stirs and inspires you and makes you wish it was longer than its 4:03 minutes.
When I hear a song or watch a show that I love I literally become obsessed until the song/movie has died a slow horrible death and I can never listen or watch it again. It probably isn’t the greatest approach but I can’t help myself. I recently discovered New Girl, a TV series starring Zooey Deschanel and have watched back to back episodes for most of my Saturday. I’ll probably rush my way through the whole series and then moan that I have to wait for the nest season to start instead of pacing myself and making the show last a little longer than one day. I have also listened to the song, Somebody That You Used to Know by Gotye continuously for the last 3 days and will probably not want to hear it ever again in a couple of days. I become hugely obsessive and then very bored very quickly with everything from food to ideas and hobbies. My husband says he is just waiting for me to announce that I have grown bored of him, but I think he is the one thing I will never get bored of.
Thought I’d share my favourite song (for now) with you. It’s a great cover by Walk off the Earth. Enjoy!!
When I hear a song or watch a show that I love I literally become obsessed until the song/movie has died a slow horrible death and I can never listen or watch it again. It probably isn’t the greatest approach but I can’t help myself. I recently discovered New Girl, a TV series starring Zooey Deschanel and have watched back to back episodes for most of my Saturday. I’ll probably rush my way through the whole series and then moan that I have to wait for the nest season to start instead of pacing myself and making the show last a little longer than one day. I have also listened to the song, Somebody That You Used to Know by Gotye continuously for the last 3 days and will probably not want to hear it ever again in a couple of days. I become hugely obsessive and then very bored very quickly with everything from food to ideas and hobbies. My husband says he is just waiting for me to announce that I have grown bored of him, but I think he is the one thing I will never get bored of.
Thought I’d share my favourite song (for now) with you. It’s a great cover by Walk off the Earth. Enjoy!!
 |
| NEW GIRL |
Sunday, 12 February 2012
Just a usual journey home....(& some policemen)
After my brush with the police, and as I said previously, I have a new found fondness for the British Police. My new favourite programs are the reality shows about the English police forces. So I was quite excited with my brief encounter with the police on my way home the other night.
I got on my usual bus and noticed that even though we were all on, the bus driver was not going anywhere.
He then announced to the bus, “Excuse me, that blonde lady there. Yes, you haven’t paid for your ticket.”
A rather posh lady got up and walked to the front to pay for her ticket, announcing continuously that she had merely forgotten to pay. She then returned to her seat and rudely told another woman to get out of her seat. This poor woman looked very embarrassed and apologetically got up and moved. Another young lady kindly offered this woman her seat and I felt that there was a mutual disliking for this blonde woman by all passengers.
Eventually we were on our way, only to be pulled over by the blue flashing lights of the metro police only 2 minutes into our journey. All eyes were to the front of the bus where a police constable entered. He told the bus driver that they were looking for a blonde woman who had been seen shoplifting. At this point I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing, we knew exactly which blonde woman they were looking for. He then turned to us and asked, “Did anyone get on this bus at Battersea Rise?” We all looked around in silence, no one saying anything. He asked us again.
The bus driver spoke. “That blonde lady there got on at Battersea Rise.”
And I kid you not, the very same blonde we were all suspecting was asked to leave the bus with the policeman so they could have a quick word with her. She of course protested the whole time she was leaving, clutching her Cath Kidston bag very close to her chest.
It was rather exciting for a usual trip home from work; one slightly drunk passenger announcing to all that it was more exciting than Emmerdale!
I got on my usual bus and noticed that even though we were all on, the bus driver was not going anywhere.
He then announced to the bus, “Excuse me, that blonde lady there. Yes, you haven’t paid for your ticket.”
A rather posh lady got up and walked to the front to pay for her ticket, announcing continuously that she had merely forgotten to pay. She then returned to her seat and rudely told another woman to get out of her seat. This poor woman looked very embarrassed and apologetically got up and moved. Another young lady kindly offered this woman her seat and I felt that there was a mutual disliking for this blonde woman by all passengers.
Eventually we were on our way, only to be pulled over by the blue flashing lights of the metro police only 2 minutes into our journey. All eyes were to the front of the bus where a police constable entered. He told the bus driver that they were looking for a blonde woman who had been seen shoplifting. At this point I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing, we knew exactly which blonde woman they were looking for. He then turned to us and asked, “Did anyone get on this bus at Battersea Rise?” We all looked around in silence, no one saying anything. He asked us again.
The bus driver spoke. “That blonde lady there got on at Battersea Rise.”
And I kid you not, the very same blonde we were all suspecting was asked to leave the bus with the policeman so they could have a quick word with her. She of course protested the whole time she was leaving, clutching her Cath Kidston bag very close to her chest.
It was rather exciting for a usual trip home from work; one slightly drunk passenger announcing to all that it was more exciting than Emmerdale!
Monday, 6 February 2012
Snow Day
What’s this
What’s this
There’s white things in the air........
The snow may have been a month too late but it was still awesome!
By the time we came home in the evening there was about 3 inches of snow on the ground. When we walked past the Common it looked like a huge spotlight was shinning on the Common inviting us to come and play in the snow. And we did!
The next morning we went down to the Common where we were greeted by a whole community of lovely, if not slightly deformed looking, snowmen. There were little families, a cat and even what appeared to be a giant spider, who all didn’t mind posing for a picture or two.
What’s this
There’s white things in the air........
The snow may have been a month too late but it was still awesome!
By the time we came home in the evening there was about 3 inches of snow on the ground. When we walked past the Common it looked like a huge spotlight was shinning on the Common inviting us to come and play in the snow. And we did!
The next morning we went down to the Common where we were greeted by a whole community of lovely, if not slightly deformed looking, snowmen. There were little families, a cat and even what appeared to be a giant spider, who all didn’t mind posing for a picture or two.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
The 8:22 train stalker - The Conclusion
It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago that I was wishing you all a Happy New Year. I feel as if someone has put time on fast forward.
My year definitely got off to a relaxed start up in the middle of nowhere. We spent the first few days of 2012 in Rhayader where there seem to be a few more sheep than there are people. It’s a small village in Wales; and the two things that struck me most about this gorgeous little village was that the children in the village actually spent most of their time playing outdoors and Rhayader has not experienced any serious crime in the last 3 years. Doors are safely left unlocked without the fear of someone breaking in. It felt like I had been transported back in time. In fact, the only real crime that does occur there is, in my opinion, justified crime. A man was put into hospital one night after being beaten up by the locals. The reason? He had been assaulting his girlfriend. Well deserved I reckon, and I doubt he’ll be doing that again.
Rhayder is a place I completely fall in love with every time I visit it. I have tried to convince my husband that he should pursue a career as a butcher, or anything similar really, as that seems to be the only type of work available there. Needless to say he requires a little more convincing. Apparently I am not as persuasive as I had hoped.
My January then became a little more eventful. If anyone has read my previous post back in October titled “The 8:22 train stalker” you will be familiar with my story of the gentleman of a creepy nature who had taken it upon himself to ruin my morning commute by following me, sitting where I would sit and then proceeding to stare in a most unwelcomed fashion. Despite my tactical avoidance maneuvers I couldn’t seem to shake him. I eventually had to move to another train. My morning train journey was restored. Or so I had thought.
In the beginning of December this same man suddenly appeared on my evening train. At first I wasn’t too bothered by it. It was only when I did a complete circle of the entire platform and he followed me every step of the way that I began to freak out. I managed to evade him and boarded the train at the far end of the platform. However with a bright orange backpack I am easily spotted in a crown and, just as I was boarding the train I noticed him making a beeline for my carriage and then sat directly opposite me once we were on. Now I may watch too many Hollywood movies like Taken; but it was at this point that I had visions of being stolen and kept in a small room. I came up with a cunning plan that my husband would come to the station with me so he could take a look at this guy just in case he would need to identify him. My husband wisely suggested that I actually speak to someone at the station and if by any chance they couldn’t help me, then yes he would come and meet me at the station.
I didn’t really like this option as it involved me actually going up to someone and saying, rather shyly, “Excuse me, but I think I’m being followed,” which I found embarrassing. But I did it, and received a rather unsympathetic response; and a phone number.
I expected that when I called this number I would be told to leave my details and then contact them again if anything serious actually happened to me. What I didn’t expect was the phone call a half hour later from the sergeant of the British Transport Police. He told me that he wanted to get this sorted out that day and that two plain clothed policemen would come fetch me from work. At about 17:15 I opened the door to find too huge 6 ft plus men who would be my personal police escorts. And so began operation Dynielle. It was just like a movie. We were going to be ‘undercover’. I had to give a description of the stalker in question (I think I may have told my story about four times that day. And after the entire incident, I think I have told this story I am telling you now about six times; each version getting a little more elaborate).
I had to pretend I didn’t know these two huge martial arts experts who flanked me on either side, at a safely subtle distance. I was told to do what I usually do and they would follow me. What I usually do is wait amongst the people in the middle of the platform and with a minute left to go I walk to the far end of the platform to the front of the 12 coach train that was due to arrive at 18:12. At 18:11 I set off down the platform as I heard the words, “This train is made up of 6 coaches.” I stopped dead, as did the two huge policemen behind me. Not as inconspicuous as I had hoped.
I had to turn around as the 6 coach train didn’t reach the end of the platform. The platform was packed that night and I could see my alleged stalker in amongst the crowd just ahead. I whispered to my police escorts that he was there, in the black puffer jacket. The one PC boarded the train with me while the other followed my stalker. (At this point I would like to add that the policemen were lovely men, and although it may be their job to be nice to young damsels in distress, it has since resulted in my new found fondness for the British police.)
When we arrived at the station, my stalker was taken into the police station to be given a warning. He was basically told that if he ever even accidently bumps into me, and I feel in the slightest bit threatened, then he will be arrested.
I was surprised at how serious they took a case like this, as I say, I was expecting to have to give a report and only call again if I was attacked. I spent about two hours at the station giving a report and the stranger formally known as stalker, was only released a half hour after I had left the property. There had apparently been many similar reports from women travelling on the train - not necessarily about this same man.
I was understandably a little nervous the next evening as I wasn’t sure how this man would react. He may have been aggressive the next time he saw me. As it was a Friday I caught an earlier train; and I imagine that with the purpose of avoiding me, so did my stalker. He didn’t see me take my seat as I was sitting a couple of seats behind him. When he did eventually turn around and see me, he turned back, sat for a brief moment before rising and making his way through the doors to the next carriage. I felt very powerful!
It was quite an exciting day, although it did all happen on my husband’s birthday and I successfully stole the limelight from him that day (sorry love). It was a good story though, one that I enjoyed telling. However, a word of caution to anyone else that has a similarly cool story to tell….don’t tell your mother. For some reason mom’s don’t find the need for policemen to escort their daughters home as cool as you would expect.
My year definitely got off to a relaxed start up in the middle of nowhere. We spent the first few days of 2012 in Rhayader where there seem to be a few more sheep than there are people. It’s a small village in Wales; and the two things that struck me most about this gorgeous little village was that the children in the village actually spent most of their time playing outdoors and Rhayader has not experienced any serious crime in the last 3 years. Doors are safely left unlocked without the fear of someone breaking in. It felt like I had been transported back in time. In fact, the only real crime that does occur there is, in my opinion, justified crime. A man was put into hospital one night after being beaten up by the locals. The reason? He had been assaulting his girlfriend. Well deserved I reckon, and I doubt he’ll be doing that again.
Rhayder is a place I completely fall in love with every time I visit it. I have tried to convince my husband that he should pursue a career as a butcher, or anything similar really, as that seems to be the only type of work available there. Needless to say he requires a little more convincing. Apparently I am not as persuasive as I had hoped.
My January then became a little more eventful. If anyone has read my previous post back in October titled “The 8:22 train stalker” you will be familiar with my story of the gentleman of a creepy nature who had taken it upon himself to ruin my morning commute by following me, sitting where I would sit and then proceeding to stare in a most unwelcomed fashion. Despite my tactical avoidance maneuvers I couldn’t seem to shake him. I eventually had to move to another train. My morning train journey was restored. Or so I had thought.
In the beginning of December this same man suddenly appeared on my evening train. At first I wasn’t too bothered by it. It was only when I did a complete circle of the entire platform and he followed me every step of the way that I began to freak out. I managed to evade him and boarded the train at the far end of the platform. However with a bright orange backpack I am easily spotted in a crown and, just as I was boarding the train I noticed him making a beeline for my carriage and then sat directly opposite me once we were on. Now I may watch too many Hollywood movies like Taken; but it was at this point that I had visions of being stolen and kept in a small room. I came up with a cunning plan that my husband would come to the station with me so he could take a look at this guy just in case he would need to identify him. My husband wisely suggested that I actually speak to someone at the station and if by any chance they couldn’t help me, then yes he would come and meet me at the station.
I didn’t really like this option as it involved me actually going up to someone and saying, rather shyly, “Excuse me, but I think I’m being followed,” which I found embarrassing. But I did it, and received a rather unsympathetic response; and a phone number.
I expected that when I called this number I would be told to leave my details and then contact them again if anything serious actually happened to me. What I didn’t expect was the phone call a half hour later from the sergeant of the British Transport Police. He told me that he wanted to get this sorted out that day and that two plain clothed policemen would come fetch me from work. At about 17:15 I opened the door to find too huge 6 ft plus men who would be my personal police escorts. And so began operation Dynielle. It was just like a movie. We were going to be ‘undercover’. I had to give a description of the stalker in question (I think I may have told my story about four times that day. And after the entire incident, I think I have told this story I am telling you now about six times; each version getting a little more elaborate).
I had to pretend I didn’t know these two huge martial arts experts who flanked me on either side, at a safely subtle distance. I was told to do what I usually do and they would follow me. What I usually do is wait amongst the people in the middle of the platform and with a minute left to go I walk to the far end of the platform to the front of the 12 coach train that was due to arrive at 18:12. At 18:11 I set off down the platform as I heard the words, “This train is made up of 6 coaches.” I stopped dead, as did the two huge policemen behind me. Not as inconspicuous as I had hoped.
I had to turn around as the 6 coach train didn’t reach the end of the platform. The platform was packed that night and I could see my alleged stalker in amongst the crowd just ahead. I whispered to my police escorts that he was there, in the black puffer jacket. The one PC boarded the train with me while the other followed my stalker. (At this point I would like to add that the policemen were lovely men, and although it may be their job to be nice to young damsels in distress, it has since resulted in my new found fondness for the British police.)
When we arrived at the station, my stalker was taken into the police station to be given a warning. He was basically told that if he ever even accidently bumps into me, and I feel in the slightest bit threatened, then he will be arrested.
I was surprised at how serious they took a case like this, as I say, I was expecting to have to give a report and only call again if I was attacked. I spent about two hours at the station giving a report and the stranger formally known as stalker, was only released a half hour after I had left the property. There had apparently been many similar reports from women travelling on the train - not necessarily about this same man.
I was understandably a little nervous the next evening as I wasn’t sure how this man would react. He may have been aggressive the next time he saw me. As it was a Friday I caught an earlier train; and I imagine that with the purpose of avoiding me, so did my stalker. He didn’t see me take my seat as I was sitting a couple of seats behind him. When he did eventually turn around and see me, he turned back, sat for a brief moment before rising and making his way through the doors to the next carriage. I felt very powerful!
It was quite an exciting day, although it did all happen on my husband’s birthday and I successfully stole the limelight from him that day (sorry love). It was a good story though, one that I enjoyed telling. However, a word of caution to anyone else that has a similarly cool story to tell….don’t tell your mother. For some reason mom’s don’t find the need for policemen to escort their daughters home as cool as you would expect.
Monday, 2 January 2012
Happy New Year!!
January is full of healthier, fitter and more active people. The gyms can barely fit any more people on their premises, personal trainers are in high demand, and vegetable sales go up as people swear that this year I will stick to my diet, I will eat healthier foods, I will exercise more and this year I will actually keep to my new year’s resolutions!
As creatures of habit this is a ritual we like to perform every year. We make New Year’s resolutions and we claim that this year will be different and we will actually stick to them. But come February you can actually get a spot on the exercise bike at the gym, you unfortunately started smoking again and you can’t remember the last time you had a home cooked meal. For this very reason I am not usually one for New Year’s resolutions; however this year will be different.
I am a notorious home-body. A perfect evening for me is watching a movie snuggled under a duvet with my hot water bottle and a cup of tea. That is why my new year’s resolution is to go out more and if given the choice of a night in or an evening out; I will from now on kick off my slippers and don that glittery eye-shadow in favour of a fun filled night out for a few drinks. The only problem is that my husband, who loves going out, is now aware of this resolution, and will unfortunately hold me to this if I try to revert to my familiar ways. Maybe I will be safer not making any resolutions; but who knows, maybe this year will be different.
What I do like about the New Year is the opportunity for a fresh start, which is the reason for the new look blog. Hope you like! And Happy New Year!!!
As creatures of habit this is a ritual we like to perform every year. We make New Year’s resolutions and we claim that this year will be different and we will actually stick to them. But come February you can actually get a spot on the exercise bike at the gym, you unfortunately started smoking again and you can’t remember the last time you had a home cooked meal. For this very reason I am not usually one for New Year’s resolutions; however this year will be different.
I am a notorious home-body. A perfect evening for me is watching a movie snuggled under a duvet with my hot water bottle and a cup of tea. That is why my new year’s resolution is to go out more and if given the choice of a night in or an evening out; I will from now on kick off my slippers and don that glittery eye-shadow in favour of a fun filled night out for a few drinks. The only problem is that my husband, who loves going out, is now aware of this resolution, and will unfortunately hold me to this if I try to revert to my familiar ways. Maybe I will be safer not making any resolutions; but who knows, maybe this year will be different.
What I do like about the New Year is the opportunity for a fresh start, which is the reason for the new look blog. Hope you like! And Happy New Year!!!
Sunday, 25 December 2011
Merry Christmas
Christmas is the one time of year you get to feel like a kid again. I was so excited last night that I almost wanted to open all the presents and had to try restrain myself. The only difference being that I wasn’t actually excited about opening my own gifts but couldn’t wait for my husband to open all the presents I had brought for him. It must be a sign that I am growing up. It was our first Christmas on our own. London tends to completely shut down on Christmas day leaving those with no transport a little stranded, which also means a mass exodus on Christmas Eve. This meant that Will and I had the choice of spending £30 or more on a taxi to get to friends, or spending Christmas at home, just the two of us. You know that you’ve married the right person when Christmas is just as special with just a two person family.
We went for a walk before lunch and had the pleasure of seeing all the children’s new Christmas presents being taken out for a spin. There were new bikes, roller skates and remote control cars being played with in the park. Although the little girl with the roller skates was not so much as skating, as being held up by her father and pushed along.
According to the Christmas check list it has been a rather successful Christmas day.
There were awesome presents
Family
Mince pies and plenty of drink
And I have eaten so much food I can barely move.
Now for an afternoon nap and Christmas will be complete.
Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!
We went for a walk before lunch and had the pleasure of seeing all the children’s new Christmas presents being taken out for a spin. There were new bikes, roller skates and remote control cars being played with in the park. Although the little girl with the roller skates was not so much as skating, as being held up by her father and pushed along.
According to the Christmas check list it has been a rather successful Christmas day.
There were awesome presents
Family
Mince pies and plenty of drink
And I have eaten so much food I can barely move.
Now for an afternoon nap and Christmas will be complete.
Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!
Sunday, 18 December 2011
It's nearly Christmas :)
Christmas is less than a week away! London is, as Craig Revel Horwood wood say, FAB-U-LOUS at Christmas time. (By the way, congrats to Harry Judd on winning this years’ Strictly Come Dancing. Now I’ll have to find something else to do on Saturday night…)
Christmas is the perfect time to feel like a tourist again. Everywhere you go is filled with lights, Christmas trees with decorations and fantastically cheesy songs like Last Christmas by Wham. Feeling festive we decided to go to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park; but apparently everyone else that evening had had the same idea. We queued for 5 minutes to exit the tube station only to arrive at a queue of fellow holiday revelers of 50 deep and 30 people wide who were waiting to get into Winter Wonderland. Not a huge fan of crowds, even if it was for mulled wine and a German market, we decided to see what else London could offer us. Thankfully there is always something to see in London, even if it is a four storey store with M&M merchandise. Here are some pictures of us being tourists in London….
Merry Christmas everyone. Hope you have a blessed Christmas and a wonderful new year!
Christmas is the perfect time to feel like a tourist again. Everywhere you go is filled with lights, Christmas trees with decorations and fantastically cheesy songs like Last Christmas by Wham. Feeling festive we decided to go to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park; but apparently everyone else that evening had had the same idea. We queued for 5 minutes to exit the tube station only to arrive at a queue of fellow holiday revelers of 50 deep and 30 people wide who were waiting to get into Winter Wonderland. Not a huge fan of crowds, even if it was for mulled wine and a German market, we decided to see what else London could offer us. Thankfully there is always something to see in London, even if it is a four storey store with M&M merchandise. Here are some pictures of us being tourists in London….
Merry Christmas everyone. Hope you have a blessed Christmas and a wonderful new year!
Sunday, 27 November 2011
The Interpretation of Murder by Jed Rubenfeld
I find nothing better than a good murder mystery, especially an historical one, so I was very eager to immerse myself in the Interpretation of Murder. It is set in 1909 when Sigmund Freud went on his one and only trip to America to deliver a series of lectures on psychoanalysis; after which he described the Americans as “savages”. He always spoke in later years of this visit as if some trauma had befallen him in the United States. No-one knows for sure what happened to Freud to make him react this way. Jed Rubenfeld takes this historical fact and creates a scenario where Freud’s visit coincides with a mysterious murder. The second victim manages to survive and Dr Younger, a Freud devotee, is asked by Sigmund Freud to help the second victim regain her memory after the attack by using Freud’s techniques. Jed has moved some historical details around as he explains in the author’s note but I loved his attention to detail, especially the description of the privileged upper class New York socialites and the strained relationship between Freud and his then disciple Carl Jung. I found it compelling and a real ‘who dunnit’ which kept me guessing all the way through and found it a fascinating portrayal of the New York of 1909 and an excellent debut novel by Rubenfeld.
Sunday, 20 November 2011
A hard day at the office
I work in a particularly British office. And by that I mean that we have at least 4 cups of tea a day. Which is fantastic since I love a nice cup of tea (anyone who had read 1 of my previous posts would know it has been inbred in me) but the only problem is that, being an all female office there is usually some kind of chocolate, pastry or biscuit type treat. It is no surprise that I have put on a little weight. I had to go up a pants (or trousers, depending where you're reading this from) size. One morning whilst getting dressed I did the customary sucking in of appropriate body parts to do up my button. It was when I exhaled and the button popped off that I thought some exercise was in order. In hind sight I shouldn't have been trying to squeeze into pants that were obviously too tight, but this kind of wisdom only comes with experience.
I have since begun walking the half hour (depending on the size of your legs) journey to the train station in the morning. It's a nice feeling of accomplishment before I start my day. And since the bus I used to catch was so rare it was on the verge of becoming an endangered species, I get to the station at around the same time anyway, I just spend less time waiting in the morning and more time doing. I have also practiced saying NO so I am not tempted by tea time treats. But there are mince pies in the office, and it is nearly Christmas, so maybe I'll just have one.
I have since begun walking the half hour (depending on the size of your legs) journey to the train station in the morning. It's a nice feeling of accomplishment before I start my day. And since the bus I used to catch was so rare it was on the verge of becoming an endangered species, I get to the station at around the same time anyway, I just spend less time waiting in the morning and more time doing. I have also practiced saying NO so I am not tempted by tea time treats. But there are mince pies in the office, and it is nearly Christmas, so maybe I'll just have one.
Friday, 18 November 2011
It's been a little while
It irks me when a blog entry begins with an apology by the blogee for not blogging in a while; so it pains me to say...
Sorry you few and faithful readers, but I haven't blogged in a while.
But I have a good excuse, it was my birthday! And I *gasp* turned 29. The last year of my 20's is sadly upon me. I remember being 16 when I could barely wait to turn 20. The 27 plus people I knew seemed so cool and sophisticated and looked like they had their lives all figured out. I should have asked them as I'm sure it wasn't the case; as I, in my late 20's, feel no cooler, I am definitely not sophisticated and I am a long way from having my life all figured out. Nevertheless, the dreaded 30 is still an entire year away. I have heard the 30’s club is not so bad, but I have 362 days until I have to think about that.
And I wonder if young impressionable teens now look at me and think how cool and sophisticated I am. But somehow I find that very unlikely.
Anyway Happy Birthday to me!
Sorry you few and faithful readers, but I haven't blogged in a while.
But I have a good excuse, it was my birthday! And I *gasp* turned 29. The last year of my 20's is sadly upon me. I remember being 16 when I could barely wait to turn 20. The 27 plus people I knew seemed so cool and sophisticated and looked like they had their lives all figured out. I should have asked them as I'm sure it wasn't the case; as I, in my late 20's, feel no cooler, I am definitely not sophisticated and I am a long way from having my life all figured out. Nevertheless, the dreaded 30 is still an entire year away. I have heard the 30’s club is not so bad, but I have 362 days until I have to think about that.
And I wonder if young impressionable teens now look at me and think how cool and sophisticated I am. But somehow I find that very unlikely.
Anyway Happy Birthday to me!
Monday, 7 November 2011
Beautiful Bride
As I have mentioned before, one of the things I love about my husbands career, is that I get to see the photo's before anyone else does; and this is especially true when he photographs a wedding. What girl doesn't love looking at wedding photo's. The wedding he went to shoot in South Africa recently was no exception. It looked like such a fun wedding, and the bride looked gorgeous. These were some of my favourites
Monday, 31 October 2011
The 72 day itch
Kim Kardashian is getting divorced after 72 days of marriage? What a joke! I’ve had food in my fridge for longer than that. Granted I should have thrown it out after it began to smell, but at least I know a thing or two about commitment. How bad could things be to call it quits after only 2 months and 2 weeks? Most people are still in the honeymoon stage at that point. Even after my humble 4 and a half years of marriage, I still hate being away from Will. He recently went home to South Africa to shoot a wedding, and I missed him terribly while he was away. So much so that I became quite a useless individual:
1. The inability to cook - Men may relate to this one more, but when my husband is away I can't see the point in making an entire meal for just one person. It takes longer to cook the meal than it does to eat it and dishes are your dirty reward at the end of it. One evening was a delicious meal of bacon flavoured crisps (my meat and veg), blueberry yogurt (fruit and dairy) and a cup of tea - at least I made sure it was a balanced meal. The fact that I haven't cooked a meal in 4 years also weighed heavily against any culinary brilliance whilst he was away.
2. My IQ level lowered significantly - There are certain movies that I am not allowed to watch because my husband refuses, and vice versa, it's called compromise. I haven't seen a Will Ferrell movie since we met because my hubby can't stand him. I, on the other hand, loved movies like Elf and Old School. So when he was away I thought it the perfect time to watch movies that I ordinarily would be banned from seeing. My movie choice comprised of Scream 4 (I had seen the first 3 and it would just be wrong not to complete it), Stepbrothers and Blades of glory. I see now that there is a reason I have been banned from these movies. My mind felt like porridge by the end of it, unable to hold an intelligent thought.
3. First sign of madness, I began talking to myself - ‘The Female Brain’ by Louann Brizendine states that women speak an average of 20,000 words a day, compared to men who only speak 7000 words per day. Whether or not this is scientific fact, it is definitely true in our marriage. I hate silence, and I like to fill it, either with music, TV, or the sound of my own voice (or sometimes the sound of my own voice OVER the TV or music.) You can imagine what torture it was for me to not have Will to chat to in the evening. I began to discuss things with myself, and tell myself what I think we should do next. I was, understandably, getting very bored of my own company by the end.
You can imagine how happy I was when he returned home, the promise of decent meals and intelligent conversation returning with him!
Sunday, 23 October 2011
Eleven by Mark Watson
I first saw Mark Watson doing a standup comedy gig on Michael McIntyre’s ‘Comedy Road Show’. I thought he was delightfully quirky. On first watching him, it looked like he had come out on stage with no material and was adlibbing the whole time. I only learned later, after watching a few of his different gigs on YouTube that this was merely his style. I was an instant fan; and as an avid book reader I was delighted to hear that he was also an author. I immediately got my hands on a copy of Eleven.
It is basically about a seemingly insignificant incident that sets off a domino effect of events in eleven individuals’ lives. It is a thought that has occurred to me many times before, how all our lives are linked in some way, and how someone’s decisions can in some way have an effect on your day without you realizing. It is a simple idea which is excellently executed with a surprising yet fitting ending.
The story follows Ireland Xavier, and it is his action, or lack thereof, that starts the series of events in eleven separate lives, which are all in no other way connected to each other. We are also intrigued by the circumstances that brought Xavier to London, who is originally from Australia, which Mark Watson unfolds throughout the story.
I must admit that I thought it might get confusing (or boring) going through eleven different stories, but Watson quite convincingly handles multiple plots with entertaining ease. Being a comedian, I expected a laugh out loud comedy. Although there are funny moments throughout the novel, with insightful commentary on human nature, it is quite a melancholy book. I highly recommend this book. Watson has an easy and captivating writing style.
He is also absolutely hilarious, so if you haven’t seen any of his stand up, do yourself a favour and look him up!
Sunday, 16 October 2011
NaNoWriMo
November is National Novel Writing Month (and all the wannabe authors of the world went – WOOHOO!)
It is a non-profit literary program that challenges aspiring novelists to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. The idea is that you bash out the complete rough draft of your novel in November, and with a complete novel finally out of you, you can sit back, relax and rewrite, rewrite, rewrite.
With the deadline of 50,000 words in 30 days – gulp – you have no choice but to shush those self doubting and procrastinating voices within and finally just throw all caution to the wind and write that novel that has been sitting within you for decades.
As you may have guessed, I am jumping on the literary band wagon and am attempting a novel in a month (I have started in October and have written 1305 words; is that cheating?)
I, along with many other fledgling authors out there I’m sure, hold no delusional hopes that my novel will ever be published. Even so, would it not be fantastically wonderful if, sitting on the tube one day, someone opposite you takes out a novel to read that happens to be one you’ve written?
I hope you join me for NaNoWriMo. (You can even be like me and get a head start on things by starting this month) If you do want to give it a go, I’ve listed some links to helpful websites for new writers.
National Novel Writing Month – The Challenge!
Starving novelist – Fantastic blog for all aspiring authors. She has great tips and helpful ideas.
Procrastinating writers – Offers guidance for writers who struggle to get started. Latest blog posts offer some advice for NaNoWriMo.
Writers online – Great resource for all things writing related.
Struggling authors – Technical and moral support for new and unpublished writers.
Writing excuses – podcasts to help you banish those pesky excuses and start writing!
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Just As You Are by Jill Lemming
I found this really lovely poem by Jill Lemming and hope she doesn't mind me sharing. You can find more of her poetry here.
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The 8:22 train stalker
I quite enjoy my morning commute into work. The train is a civilized way to travel and, being a reverse commuter, it’s much quieter. It's a lot nicer than a bus and you don't spend the morning crammed up against a strangers back, arm, chest or face like you do in the tube. I get a lovely window seat where I can watch the scenery, and catch up on some reading.
However, my mornings were ruined by a stalker on my 8:22 train. You can fairly expect that people are creatures of habit and usually sit in the same carriage, in roughly the same seat. So seeing the same few people every morning was no strange thing. Although when this man who sat diagonally to me every morning started staring just a little bit, I began to get perturbed. But not one to blow my own trumpet announcing that I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me; I decided to test it out, and then I could safely announce that Yes! I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me! I went in different carriages, walked the opposite direction to where I usually went, changed my mind at the last minute just before boarding and walked down the platform to another carriage door. No matter where I sat, I could 100% guarantee where this man would sit. I wanted to say to him, “Excuse me you weird little man, but I do not really want to be stalked at this moment in time; because a) it’s quite creepy and b) you’re a freak, so please leave me alone!”
However, my mornings were ruined by a stalker on my 8:22 train. You can fairly expect that people are creatures of habit and usually sit in the same carriage, in roughly the same seat. So seeing the same few people every morning was no strange thing. Although when this man who sat diagonally to me every morning started staring just a little bit, I began to get perturbed. But not one to blow my own trumpet announcing that I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me; I decided to test it out, and then I could safely announce that Yes! I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me! I went in different carriages, walked the opposite direction to where I usually went, changed my mind at the last minute just before boarding and walked down the platform to another carriage door. No matter where I sat, I could 100% guarantee where this man would sit. I wanted to say to him, “Excuse me you weird little man, but I do not really want to be stalked at this moment in time; because a) it’s quite creepy and b) you’re a freak, so please leave me alone!”
I’ve had to start walking to the other side of the platform to get on the very front of the train to avoid him; which isn’t so bad….it’s even quieter than the rest of the train because no one else could be bothered to walk that far! I have thankfully been stalker free for an entire week now, and hope to remain that way.
Sunday, 2 October 2011
It’s my one year anniversary!!!
Exactly one year ago today my husband and I landed in London to begin a brand new chapter in our lives. We had no definite plans and started our journey with literally the money and possessions we had on us at the time. Some days were scary, not knowing what was going to happen. There were teary phone calls back to South Africa once or twice. Looking for work felt like a full time job in itself. Will and I sometimes only had each other to fall back on. But despite the bumps in the road, it has been the most exciting thing we have ever done; we have enjoyed every moment, and it has made us closer and our relationship stronger. It has taken a while to feel settled in; but it has somehow always felt like home here. God has constantly been there laying out each next step for us to take. It’s still an exciting journey and we can’t wait to see what happens next. I can’t quite believe it’s been a year already as I still feel like a newbie. But I think it’s safe to say that we have officially passed the newbie mark and are now meeting people who we can pass on our wisdom to (however miniscule that might be). We celebrated the momentous occasion with a bottle of wine at the park in this unnaturally balmy weather. And may I take this opportunity to say - To all you Brits out there, I really love your country!
Sunday, 25 September 2011
A little bit of music and some great photography
As a very proud wife, I reserve the right to be totally biased in my praise of William Adams Photography! The opportunities that are available to photographers in the UK (although very slim) are still greater than those back home, and one of the reasons we considered moving here. My husband is getting the chance to combine his passion for photography with his love of rock music. This does mean evenings alone as he attends gigs; but I must admit I enjoy the next morning when I get to look through all the photos before anyone else has seen them! It’s also really wonderful to watch him following his dreams!
He’s had the chance to photograph some really excellent bands. One of which is London based Indie rock band, The Genies. The band is made up of singer/song writer Steve Clarke, bass player Mattia Milan, lead guitarist Rob Payne, keyboard player Jimi Yates and drummer Ryan Pincott. They have been approached by a world renowned producer who has worked with some well known names, producing albums which have reached number 1 in the UK charts. They’ve got a really great sound and will be giving away a singed copy of their debut album to a very lucky person. Click HERE if you want more details.
He’s also shot Don Gallardo and How Far West from Nashville Tennessee. Will described them as “…guitar driven Southern Blues with a good shot of rock thrown in for good measure. The songs are toe tappingly good and the harmonies sent shivers up my spine.” They are comprised of Don Gallardo on lead vocals and acoustic guitar, bass guitarist & BGV Travis Stoke, lead guitarist and BGV Clint Maine and Andrew Squire on drums.
Friday, 23 September 2011
Room by Emma Donoghue
Room was a tough subject to tackle. Emma Donaghue, however, manages to do this excellently. We start the story on Jacks 5th birthday. He was born in an 11 foot by 11 foot room, which is the only world he has ever known. He lives with his Ma and his ‘friends’ Rug, TV, Wardrobe and Plant; as his mother has given characters to each of the objects in the room. Room is the only reality that Jack has ever experienced, and the things he sees on TV like other boys and girls and the outside world are not actually real to him. Jack is unaware of the true horror of his situation. Ma protects him from their captor Old Nick, who to Jack is just the man that brings them food and Sunday treats. Jack has never seen Old Nick as he is always instructed to hide inside the wardrobe when Old Nick visits. This world is shown to us through the eyes of this 5 year old boy, and Emma decides to tell this story in his voice. The reader is fully aware of what is going on even though Jack does not grasp the tragic reality of his world. This makes it a lot easier for the reader to digest such a difficult subject.
When, through various circumstances, Jack eventually does see ‘Outside’; it is a real mind trip to discover the world for the first time through the eyes of this 5 year old boy. Donaghue takes us on a journey of discovery with Jack. I did battle at times to read the 5 year olds language, and it was not an enjoyable book to get totally lost in. But it is skillfully written and the story is told in a refreshing way.
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