A Little Perspective

We all have busy lives.  Work, family; social life; friends; hobbies it all takes up your time and it is easy to get stressed with the day to day.

When you are busy like that sometimes you can get bogged down by the small stuff, and let it take over, making you tired, irritable and ill tempered.  I’m not talking about proper depression here, just the day to day things that exasperate you.

I’ll admit that I’ve been like that a lot recently.  I haven’t been sleeping too well and I’ve been worried about my university course which has led to my being snappish, irritable and generally not in the best of moods.

I received a little perspective last night.  A friend whom I haven’t seen for around a year had won an award relating to his business and was in the local paper.  I read with horror that he had been diagnosed with cancer six months ago.  He is four years younger than me.

At 28 years old, with a wife and young child and a new business venture, he set up a desk from his hospital bed and made that business a success, cancer or no cancer. 

Even with that news, by mid morning today, I was again back in the rut of tired, grumpy and over worked.  Then I remembered him.  It is too easy to get drawn down into the mundane details of life.  I think we all need some perspective like that to keep everything in the balance.

I may be a bit stressed out at the moment, I may be a bit tired, but I have my health, my friends, my family, I’m happy.  Things could be so much worse.

The small things don’t matter.  When you look back at your life 10 years from now; the fact that you were tired one day or were too busy on another won’t even factor.  The fact that you were happy and living your life to the full will.

Attack from the Side

I have another blog aside of this one.  It is a blog where I have my opinions, my rants and my general meandering thoughts.  

Tonight though I have a rant that is best posted on here.  To like minded, like shaped people.  Hell, just people.

As a plus size person you get used to a certain number of comments, views, media perceptions, collective views etc about your size, your looks, your clothes.  In my case in general I am forming a "sod off if you don't like me" attitude, but there are still certain things that make it through the screen.

The first is an irritant.  You know the one, I'm sure that many of you have had the same comment, and it bugs the hell out of me.  "You're a pretty girl, just think how good you could look if you were thin".  I can never reply properly to these comments.  Mainly because what I want to reply in retort is just as bad, because I want to hurt back.

The second is the comments that hold you back from being what you want to be, look how you want to look.  Tonight for me it was someone looking at some red skinny jeans I had ordered.  The "look" up and down, along with the comment  of "Oh...... Well maybe if you wore a really long top over them".  

To be honest, I'm not sure on them myself having only recently talked myself into exploring more colourful options.  But thanks to that comment, my attitude is bugger you, I'm ordering and I will damn well work them!

I promise, tomorrow I will be back with a post full of pictures, and no rants.  

Coats - It's a Northern Thing

I love buying clothes.  Even when my wardrobe was a bottomless pit of black, I still got that excited feeling when a parcel had arrived full of clothes.  I've never been one for trying things on in a shop, there is nothing worse than walking into a changing room with a pile full of clothes, and then walking out again with them all when nothing fits.

The one item of clothing I truly hate buying though is coats.  Like Kaye says from TestyBrunette, not wearing coats or jackets is a northern thing.  If we can get away with not wearing one, we will.   This works twofold for me as I can never find the right coat that ticks all the boxes.

My old faithful long black wool coat finally reached the end of it’s life a couple of months ago (read I finally admitted that it needed to be thrown out) and my hand was forced into the search for a new coat.

Here is my criteria: mid length, fitted but not overly, a colour that will go with most things, stylish, ok for work but will look ok for weekends, accommodate the chest area so the girls don’t look twice as big, warm, ok for wet weather. 

Yes, I’m picky but I’ve had so many coats that have failed for one reason or another, usually because they look bloody awful and are the “I give up, I’ll buy this” coat.  I was determined this time that I would find my dream coat, or just go cold for the weather.

Armed with my wish list I looked through all the clothing websites and made a list of the coats I liked.  Then discounted half as being impractical or just wouldn’t suit me (read fine on a size 8, not on me).  Eventually through, I struck gold.

Savoir Classic Stone Mac - Very

This coat ticked every box on my wish list and then some. It can be found here and comes in either the stone colour which I bought or in black.

I love the stone colour of the coat which goes with so much and enables me to mix it up with different coloured scarfs and accessories.  Rain just seems to roll off it and it looks good (so far) with everything I have worn with it.

So if you are an office girl like me who likes to keep it stylish at the weekend (I never knowingly under dress) then this may be the coat for you! 

A Watched Kettle

I'm impatient. When I know that something big is coming, be it good or bad; I want it to happen now.

They say that a watched kettle never boils, well in this case it's the opposite. The red LED of my Blackberry is constantly flashing at me, be it a tweet, text or email but, like the 3 buses lined in a row, the one that you want is never there.

The one that I want is an email from university. The one with my score in for my first essay. I feel like someone who hasn't ridden a bicycle in years, very unsure and uncertain at first, but after that first ride you know you'll be ok.

In this case though, the bike ride is scored. It's a indication, in my head at least, as to whether going to university was a good idea after all.

It's the chance card on the Monopoly board. Will I pass go and carry on with the game or will I be sent to the dunce's jail.

I've probably got at least another week to wait before I have my answer. My head says everything will be fine, but the little voice in there is also whispering "Are you sure?".

Everyone around me tells me it will be fine, I've nothing to worry about. I can be told that 100 hundreds times and it won't make an iota of different to how I feel. What I want is someone to tell me it IS fine.

I hold myself to my own standards, what I expect is good enough from me. What I want is a clear pass. Anything less and I'll be heartbroken, however, anything more, and I will be ecstatic.

I will look at this post one day and laugh about how worried I was. How I practically ran to my phone every time it flashed. But I care. I won't apologise for that.

So come on now, Mr Tutor Man, it isn't nice to keep a lady waiting.

Mob Mentality

On Remembrance Sunday a 19 year old boy was arrested by police.  For shoplifting maybe, a drunken brawl?  No.   No doubt in an effort to look “hard” in front of his friends, he had burned a plastic poppy and put a picture of it on Facebook, with a disparaging remark about “squaddies”.  He was arrested under the Malicious Communications Act.

Was he an idiot.  Yes.  Was it completely disrespectful.  Yes.  Should he have been arrested for it?  Absolutely not.  I think what worries me even more than his arrest, is the fact that someone in his friends list, because let’s not forget that it was posted on Facebook, not Twitter, reported him to the police.  That someone actually thought that what he had done should and must be illegal, scares me just as much as his arrest.

The arrest on Sunday fuelled many conversations I had on Monday, but the most memorable of which spanned throughout the course of the day.  The person whom I was speaking to thought that it was right that the boy be arrested and that in his opinion, he should be locked in a room full of squaddies to “teach him a lesson”.  

To be honest, this is the opinion I have come to expect from the mob mentality.  Threaten first, think later.  When it becomes dangerous is when it becomes punch first and think later or becomes a pack of vigilantes who don’t think at all.

By the end of the conversation (I do confess I was banging my head against a wall by the end) he suggested that an appropriate punishment would be community service for a charity.  Whilst I still do not agree that the boy should have been arrested at all, the conversation had got me thinking.

The mob mentality.  An individual is smart and will listen to reason, a mob will listen to no one.  The person I spoke to went from saying that the boy deserved to be beaten up by a group of “squaddies” to moving towards a community service order by the end of the day.  If the conversation had been myself and a group of people who all thought the same way he did at the start, their position would not have changed. 

The problem with these arrests is simple.  This is going to escalate.  Unless questions are asked and changes are made, this is going to escalate to a point where you have to be vigilant as to what you say, who you sa it to, what you do, how you act.  If this happens, what did they actually fight for in the First and Second World Wars?  Because freedom is about choice, not restriction.

The boy was arrested and released on bail, pending further investigations.  I understand that a QC has volunteered to represent him for free should the matter go to Court.  

Monday's Child

Welcome to my stecond outfit post.  I'll attempt to do better than the first which was full of nerves and badly placed photographs.  I'm new at all this so am on a learning curve.  No pun intended.

Mondays are no fun.  We all know that.  So Monday's child must have bling; a little sparkle to brighten up the day.  I always try and incorporate something sparkly into my outfits, usually my watch, seen below which I bought myself from Fossil as a treat for stopping smoking.  To add a little extra sparkle to the day, I also wore a ring, which can be found here

Now that we are heading ever faster into the colder weather, the hunt for the nice jumper has begun, with added pressure now that I don't automatically click the "black" box in the search.  So here is today's outfit.  A black pencil skirt bought earlier in the year from Next, a gorgeous camel chain print jumper which can be found here and some black t-bar shoes which I procured from the South collection at Very.

I really loved the chain pattern on the jumper and it is lovely and soft on the skin.  The shoes are a no brainer and go with everything, perfect for the office.  The bag, which I'm currently in love with was a purchase from Barnardos for the bargain price of £3.00.

That's Monday over and done with, tomorrow, another day, another outfit.  Hopefully I'll get to post something else later in the week.  Thanks for reading!

The First Time

Having recently, finally, come out of my all black wardrobe to embrace colour, fashion and life; I realised to needed to take a moment and look through all my clothes, see what needed to stay and what to go.  Let's face it, even if you adore colour, you will always still have time for a little black dress in your closet.

My local Barnardos has done very well out of me in the past few weeks whilst I have been clearing out the excess black and bringing the colour in.  

One place where I didn't need to have a clear out was in my shoe collection.  I may not have worn colour on my body, but I damn sure wore it on my feet.  So my first outfit of the day is a homage to the old me, with my favourite red shoes which I used to justify my outfits with "Look, see, I'm wearing colour, on my feet!"

This particular outfit was intended for this blog a couple of months ago, but after taking the photos it took me until now so work up the courage.  So I look a lot more summery than the current weather would allow!

This is my "What the hell am I doing" face.

My favourite red shoes, every girl needs a pair

Can you tell I'm not used to taking photos of myself?

This outfit was planned for a lunch out with the girls.  The top, my first non black and patterned purchase is from last season's Next summer collection.  The dark blue jeans are from Very and the shoes are from Primark. 

Clearly I don't know what I'm doing yet when it comes to taking photographs of myself and the clothes I'm wearing but hey, everyone has to start somewhere!

The main purpose of this post was to get the first one done, out of the way.  I don't care what anyone says, the first time of doing anything isn't good. 

So there you go.  My first #ootd post.  Photos in the wrong order, me having a slight panic attack mid way through writing the post, but frankly, I'm just glad it's here.  

From here, the only way is up!

Hello

This is the blog that I have been promising myself I would do, but up to today, have been too scared to set up.

That's me, my face in the corner of my blog.  That is usually all I will show, be it on Twitter, Facebook, my other blog, that's all you usually get.  Because I'm plus size.  To be exact, I'm a size 22 gal.  

I've been overweight my entire life.  Well, as far as I can remember anyway.  Definately all through primary school.  I eat like a regular person and I look like this.  Go figure.  

I've gone through my entire life being scared of what people thought of what I looked like and have hidden away.  Due to my lack of confidence (I hope that's why), I've been single for 15 years.  

There.  That's honesty for you.  I promised myself I would be.

But I've have a revolution in my head, I'm not sure what started it.  I like to think that it was some bad ass inside me shouting "Enough of this shit!".  

Black is not a rule.  I'm a happy girl, I love colour, I will wear it!  I've been reading some of the plus size blogs, namely Mrs Bebe , Betty Bee to name a couple and I have started to realise that yes, I'm plus size but that doesn't make me a outcast of society.

I can love and wear fashion, I can look nice in it, I AM NOT GROTESQUE.  Confidence isn't just for skinny people.  I see plus size gals with boyfriends, husbands etc.  If they can have it, surely I can too.  I refuse to be the girl that is liked in private but denied in public.  I deserve better.

So here I am.  My first step.  below picture is probably quite accurate, but I'm aiming to change the "fuck off" to a "hello".  

First Essay - Done!

I've now completed my first six weeks in my Open University degree and have submitted my first essay.

I think that one of the biggest struggles I have had is getting to terms with studying again, not because I haven't enjoyed it, but finding the most productive time to do it.  Typically I am a night person and so I thought that this would be the ideal time to do my work.  Turns out, not.

 

After a long day at work, the thought of opening my books and doing some study for a couple of hours was a complete turn off.  Although I wanted to get the work done, the motivation wasn't there.  I therefore tried different times to work and utilised the alternative formats available for the study materials, downloading audio to my phone and printing pages out from PDF.

 

For me, working in smaller segments seems to be the key.  I get 30 minutes reading/listening to audio done on the bus each day, I use another 30 minutes during my lunch hour at work and during all these segments of time I feel motivated and get a lot done.

 

When at home, again I tend to work in short bursts now, but over the course of the week I am still able to fit all my studying in, work at my full time time, and still have a social life.  I am massively glad that I chose to work at the 25% rate, 50% (or 25 hours per week) would have been far too much.  I need a balance in my life and all work and no play makes Vicky a sad girl!

 

Last night, after many tweaks, re-writes and worries, I submitted first essay to be marked.  For this first one to be honest I am just grateful to have completed it and as long as I pass, I don't care what the mark is.

 

Well, when I say that, of course I care, but what I mean is that I don't have any expectations.   I do admit though, there is a fair amount of crossing my fingers going on!

F.I.N.E

I’m having one of those days.  I call them my Italian Job days.  Not because I am going around stealing safes, but for the scene where Donald Sutherland explains to Mark Wahlberg what fine means

 

Freaked Out

Insecure

Neurotic

Emotional

 

These days normally occur when I have too much going on, thoughts swirl madly round in my head and I start to panic.  I’ve learnt to see the warning signs now so I know what to do.  I have a plan that I go through that usually works.

I always start with that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when you know that something is wrong, but you don’t know what.  The breathing gets heavier and a panicked feeling starts.  You reach the point where you feel like you are going to cry.

Before, I would let that emotion take over and meltdown, now I can stop myself. 

1. Breathe.  Just breathe.  In and out, slowly and calmly.  Nothing can happen if you just breathe.
2. What’s wrong?
3. Yes, you do know what’s wrong, say it.
4. Breathe.
5. Everything is fixable, make a plan, step by step, find the fix.

 My “fine” moment may sound stupid to some.  But what I say is that if something is important to you, it is never stupid. My moment today was worrying about my assignment, worrying that I wasn’t clever enough to be doing a degree, worrying I was doing everything wrong, worrying myself into sheer panic. 

 I feel better now.  I’m calm.  I’m back on plan.  I can do this, of course I can; I just need to remember that I can.

Sometimes, you just forget to breathe.

Stepping Backwards - Mini Rant

Over the centuries wars have been fought, campaigns have been launched and banners have been waved; all in the name of our rights.

Our right to be free, the women's right to vote; freedom of speech; decriminalisation of homosexuality; the woman's rights to her own body; the list is endless.  Although some issues are still being argued and there are rights that are still to be won, we have been taking steps in the right direction over recent decades.

 

I look around now though in 2012 and in some areas, we seem to be taking steps back.  The Big Brother society that George Orwell wrote about in 1984 is not a merely a figment of imagination, it is in some respects, peeking around the corner. 

Freedom of speech for example, which day by day seems to turning into freedom of speech, but only for nice people, or people who agree with your point of view.  But then, we are plebs aren't we?  What do we know?

Then we have religion and it's interference with the State.  I don't dispute anyone's right to have religious beliefs, but I would argue against any one religion having influence over the running of the country.  Although I'm an atheist, I'm sure that Muslims, Sikhs etc would also wholly disagree with the Church having any influence or capacity over laws and how the country is run. 

I saw the story of a 10 year old boy recently who, 10 months after joining, was removed from the Scouts on the basis that he wouldn't swear the Scout Promise of "doing their duty by God".  It seems that in order to learn to tie knots that you need religion.

Be who you want to be and say what you think is slowly but surely turning into "Say the right thing, have the right opinion, know your position as a pleb and be religious or else".

Personally, I say what I think and if "they" don't like it, they can shove it.  If that makes me guilty of hate crime, well then so be it.

 

 

I Do Believe in Fairies!

Without wishing to sound about a hundred years old (I’m 33); my childhood was in the time before computers and IPhones, before the X-Box and Nintendo DS.  My childhood was made up of story books and playing in the garden, of making up stories and watching Peter Pan.  I was convinced that fairies were real and that if I believed hard enough, they would magically appear. 

I’m not sure if I ever really believed in Father Christmas or anything along those lines (baby atheist in the making?) but I wholehearted believed that magic was real, if I could only find it. 

You are allowed to think like that when you are a young child.  I wish we still did.  I miss that feeling of absolute certainty in my heart that anything was possible, if you only believed it, even fairies.

Something happened this weekend that took me right back to my old five year old self, and it was nothing short of magical.  I went to the park this weekend with my dogs and whilst walking along a leaf covered pathway, with trees on each side of me I suddenly stopped.  Right in front of my eyes was a leaf, immobile in mid air, floating as if by magic.

Although my logical brain soon explained it as hanging from an unseen spider thread, for those fifteen seconds before I just gazed upon that leaf in total wonderment and happiness.  The five year old little girl that was once me was shouting inside me “It’s real, it’s real!” and jumping up and down. 

When I realised that it must be hanging from a spider’s threat a small part of me was gutted.  I didn’t want the logical explanation.  That tiny part of me that believed in fairies at five years old wanted it to be real.  But, of course, it wasn’t.

Now at 33 of course I don’t still believe that there are fairies at the bottom of the garden or that leaves can magically float in the air.  I’m far too cynical.  But you know what?  Part of me wishes I still did.  Life was far less complicated then.

So, just this once, as a salute to the five year old me,

 

There, that feels much better.

Prison Break

I read a post the other day by The Bloggess entitled "Sometimes Prisons can be Beautiful".

I have been reading her blog for about a year now.  The recommendation I was given was "She's funny, a bit "off" but in a wonderful way and has her own mental issues, a bit like you, but different ones".  I HAD to take a look.

Her blog was the first I had ever read.  I had already started my own, but I was at that time coming from an angle of just loving to write, and was writing purely about things that interested.  It never occurred to me to write about the personal stuff that you "shouldn't" talk about.  The fact that sometimes, I can be a little "off".  That I had issues.  All the things that you are supposed to keep hidden.

This particular post got me to thinking about how in some ways, we all create our own type of prisons.  Not the type with brick walls and bars at the windows, but ones that we have created in our minds, where the rules can be just as restrictive.  Where you are both the prison guard and also the person in the cell.

These type of prisons are more complicated than the physical kind.  To break out of them you don't need to scale a wall or bribe a prison guard.  The rules are of your own making, and the walls shift.

I've always known that I had a wall up.  What I realise now is that it wasn't just a wall.  It was a prison of my own construction which surrounded me, with it's own rules, all of which was constructed not because I was bad, but to protect me.  A cocoon.  

The thing about a cocoon is that at first, you feel safe in it, but eventually it becomes stifling and too close for comfort.  I was being smothered in a prison of my own making.

Compared to others, my journey is easy.  I created the walls around me, I drew up the rules, I can destroy them.

I don't suffer from depression or anxiety.  I thankfully don't have that daily battle sometimes just to get outside of your own front door, or have the need to hide in the bathroom when in the presence of others.  But reading the blogs of the people that do has gives me inspiration to improve my own life because if they can do it, I damn sure can too.

Ladies of the blogging world, from one bat shit crazy woman to another, I salute you.  You inspire me.

First Day Jitters

Last night I started my university degree.  It was a very strange feeling to be honest.

I had all the nerves and jitters of someone walking into a university classroom for the first time, except the classroom was my sofa and a coffee table and I was the only student.

I spent the first hour browsing through all the material I had received and familiarising myself with what would be expected.  A study plan was drawn up and I was as organised as I could be.  But then, you open the learning companion……

I don’t care who you are, if you have been out of education for a long time, opening up any text book is a daunting experience.  My heart was pounding for at least the first half an hour and I was convincing myself that this was all a horrible mistake, that there was no way I could do this.

The good thing about an Open University course though is that everything is planned out for you.  What to study, how many recommended hours, what you should be doing each week, advice, it’s all there.

I re-read through all the introductory information to calm myself down and then when going back to the text, I realised that it wasn’t as complicated as first thought, the questions weren’t unanswerable and it was simply me working myself up into a lather. 

After going through the notes I had taken and then typing them up (my handwriting isn’t the best) I realised that once I had calmed down and looked at the text again, my thoughts and ideas were following much more freely.

I have started my course two weeks early as I wanted to give myself some breathing space and also allow for a contingency in case of illness etc. 

I wanted to do this post for anyone who hasn’t yet had the “first day nerves” and tell you that yes, you will be nervous, yes you may panic a little a first (if you are like me) but keep calm, BREATH, re-read and take your time.

We are starting on an exciting journey, let’s not forget that.  It is a day to be marked and remembered, the day your life began to change.

Tech Advice Required!

Hindsight is a wonderful thing.  In this particular case, technology related.

My previous laptop was unfortunately hit by a virus that managed to get through anti virus, security, virus software, everything.  Said laptop being in the technological equivalent of being in a coma, I was left without technology.

One can not simply go without technology for more than one week without going completely insane.  It is folly.

The problem was that at the time, and now if it comes down to it, I was short on cash.  I needed a replacement, sooner rather than later and I couldn't pay too much for it.  My choice in the end was a Samsung N145 Plus Netbook.

The netbook has served me well and is fine for what I need it for.  Browsing the internet, social networking, blogging and research all work well with a netbook.  Herein though lies the problem.  

A few months ago I decided to start a degree.  Whilst my netbook is fine for browsing and playing around, I doubt that it has the capacity to complete with a fully functioning laptop.  The smallest of the problems being the lack of size in the screen and keyboard.

The only solutions I have come up with thus far, being unable to fund a new laptop, are buying an external hard drive to extend the space and getting an external keyboard to help with the typing.  Hindsight is a wonderful thing but for now, I guess I have to work with what I have.

If anyone who happens to read this post has any ideas into how I can increase the capacity of my netbook, or indeed has a magic spell to increase the size of the screen, I'm all ears.  In the meantime, entering every laptop competition I can find!!

Just the Way You Are

This is another in a series of "transformation" blogs I have been doing lately.  Sorry if it's getting boring for anyone who reads this, but I feel it important to write down and record my progress.

Looking back to where you have come from to where you are now is important I feel.  Not to look back and dwell on what was, but instead, realise how far along the journey you are now.

I was watching a vlog the other day done by the incomparable Betty Bee and she said something that really struck me and made me realise that although I have come a long way, part of my thinking is not as it should be.

On each step of the journey I have been on this year, from stopping smoking to starting a degree, from gaining confidence to banishing my all black wardrobe and introducing colour, the same thought has always been in the back of my head.

When I accomplish "this" I'll feel better about myself, when I do "that" I'll be happier.  What Betty Bee said was that you should like yourself the way you are right now, not when you have done this, this and changed this, but now.

What I realised after watching the vlog was that at the back of my mind, the thought has been that once I accomplish all my goals, once my head is straight, when I look a certain way, I will be "ready for the world", I'll be good enough.  

Looking back at one of my earlier posts, said that I was so close to the person I wanted to be that I could smell it.  Whilst that is true, I now realise that I have to be happy with the person I am now too.  You can't live your life waiting to be perfect.  Nothing is perfect.  Perfection doesn't exist.

Betty said that you should focus on the parts of yourself that you like and be happy with them, instead of focusing on the parts that you don't.

I'm applying a new mantra to live by:

My Shovel List

We have all heard of the bucket list, the things you want to do/accomplish before you die, but have you ever heard of the shovel list?

In Marian Keyes’ new book, The Mystery of Mercy Close her main character describes it as “A list of all the people and things I hate so much I want to hit them in the face with a shovel."

As this sounds more fun, and therapeutic than a bucket list, I thought that I would do my own.  Mine has sections though.  Turns out there are more people in need of a shovel in the face than I had originally though.

So in no particular order….

The “Too Happy/Nice therefore must be Psychopaths” List

All morning people

Bonnie Langford

Cliff Richard

Anthea Turner

The Politics List (This one is limited on the grounds I couldn’t possibly name everyone)

The current British Government

Mitt Romney

David Cameron (he deserves a special mention)

The Pop “Stars” List

Miley Cyrus

Justin Bieber

Geri Halliwell

Coldplay

Gwen Stefani

Madonna

The Collective List

The Catholic Church

The Pope (again, special mention required)

Reality TV contestants

Jehovah’s Witnesses

Chavs

Any/all fundamental extremists from any religion

Bigots

Jeremy Kyle viewers

The “People I don’t have an explanation for, they just NEED a shovel to the face” List

Pastor “Dickdonaldo” Maldonaldo

Sebastian “The |Cucumber” Vettel

Gwyneth Paltrow

Clowns (these need multiple shovels on the grounds that they are scary)

Jeremy Kyle

Louis Spence

I think that will do for now ;)

Unbelievable

I didn't write this.  But it says every single thing I want to today.  Please read and more than that, please sign the petition also linked below:

fleet street fox: Unbelievable.: IMAGINE a group of people that does the worst things you can think of. People who would like to concrete the countryside, build more nucle...

Stop the badger cull - e-petitions http://epetitions.direct.gov.uk/petitions/38257

A Time to Study

One of the many changes I have been making in my life of late has been a decision to start a degree.

I work full time and don't have the financial ability to quit and become a full time student.  This is one of the main reasons why I haven't thought about doing a degree before.  Someone suggested doing an Open University degree to me which could be done on a part time basis.

To be honest, before I actually looked into it, I knew next to nothing about the OU, other than hearing people's opinions on doing degrees by correspondence and over the net.  These comments have always been either quips of "It's the easy option", or have been an insistance that "it can't be a proper degree".

Always being one to find these things out for myself, I investigated.  One of my better decisions as I am now enrolled in my first year of a BSC Honours Degree in Criminology & Psychology.

The options of how to study suits me down to ground.  I chose to study at the minimum rate, for this year at least, of 25% of the amount of time spent by a full time student.  My first module is a 30 point course in an Introduction to Social Sciences, DD131.  This equates to studying 10 hours per week.

For me, considering I work full time and haven't studied anything in the past 17 years, seemed the most sensible option.

At the end of this road, which will be long and winding with many trials and tribulations I am sure, I will come out with an Honours Degree which is exactly the same as any other degree obtained from any other university. 

I certainly wouldn't count the Open University as an easy option.  Working full time and studying at the same time isn't something you would ever choose unless you are certain it is something you really want to do.  It will be hard, but it will be worth it.

Now I just have to receive my module books and study information through the post then I can start panicking and wondering the hell I have gotten myself into!

No More Tooth Hurty at 2.30

Along with millions of other people in the world, I am terrified of the dentist.  Whilst I am normally ok in most situations and can control nerves, with a dentist appointment, I feel like I am going into the lion's den.

 

Consequently this fear of the dentists lead to a ten year span of not attending.  Although I have never needed anything more than  a scrape and polish, after a bloody and painful session (together with numerous horror stories from other people having more serious procedures) this was enough for me to avoid attendance.  Over the years the fear grew, unnoticed and unchecked.

 

Two months ago however my hand was forced.  I managed to knock a tooth loose and was left with no other option but to go to the emergency dentist and ended up having to have the tooth out.  I have had two appointments since then, getting my teeth back in order and after this third appointment, a realisation had hit me.

 

Dentists aren't evil.  They aren't like they used to be.  You can have local anaesthetic.  It doesn't have to hurt.  If you are reading this and are scared of dentists, re read that line.  Because it's true.  There doesn't have to be any pain anymore.  You just need to find "your" dentist.

The dentist I had years ago was very much of the old school who focused less no making sure you weren't in pain and more on playing God with a drill in his hand. 

The lovely lady I have now explains everything that needs to be done in advance and makes sure I am calm before even going near my mouth.  I have treatments coming up soon and I already know I can have local anaesthetic if I want it and I only have to raise a hand to make anything stop.

Considering, at the moment, that I have never had anything major done to my teeth you may be laughing at me now saying "Just you wait!".  If that is true, leave me in my wonderful new dream, I beg you.

I don't want to go back to being in tears in the dentists waiting room.  So have a heart, if I'm wrong, don't tell me.

 

 

Digging My Heels In

I always thought that the hardest time when quitting smoking would be within the first month.  In one way, that is true.  The cravings are at their worst and the lure to return back to smoking is still high.

After the first month, along with reaping the physical benefits, in my case returning to being a human being in the morning instead of a scary, groggy monster, there are also the financial benefits.  Let's face it, although when I did actually smoke you couldn't have dragged it out of me on pain of death, I was spending close to £180.00 per month on cigarettes.

Looking back now, I haven't one clue as to how I afforded that.  Well, in truth, I didn't, I just cut back on every other aspect of my life so that it was affordable.  Once the first month is over with, you get to enjoy the next few months with a lot of extra cash, and feeling better day by day.

Today though, well at weekend to be exact, it was brought home to me that although at four months, I am doing well in the fight against cigarettes, the battle has been won but not yet the war.

Over the past 4 months I have had two puffs of a cigarette, on different occasions.  Both on a night out with smokers around me.  The previous two times actually increased my resolve.  I didn't enjoy the taste and they did nothing for me.  There were dangerous experiments that didn't cause any harm.

This weekend however, the dangerous experiment backfired.  I was out with the girls and on my way to the taxi rank I started talking to a smoker.  Without really even thinking about what I was doing, I asked for a puff of his cigarette.  It wasn't a craving, it wasn't an experiment to see if it still tasted bad, it was just a..... thing.

To be honest, I was fully expecting it to be like the previous two occasions.  Well I had smelt the lure of a cigarette, tried it and found it horrible to taste.  This time, it wasn't.  That one puff of a cigarette brought back every single memory of how much I had loved smoking.  It tasted so good, I didn't feel dizzy, it felt right.  Oh crap.

The next morning, I had a lucky escape.  There were no cravings, and no temptation to wander off to the shops for a packet of cigarettes.  I had a feeling of guilt but nothing more.  It could have been so much worse.  I could have knocked myself back to the beginning.

That's when I realised, the moment that you think that you are safe, that you don't need to keep your guard up, that is one of the most vulnerable times.  I probably would have known this if I had gone down the route of smoking cessation classes and all the information that is readily out there.  It is just common sense really.

Me being me though, I like doing what you shouldn't.  99% of people will tell you that having a puff of a cigarette when you are trying to quit is a really stupid idea.  It is.  I have learnt that now.  I am not over my addiction.  Although I am no longer in the grasps of complete addiction of cigarettes, I could, if I don't keep my guard up, accidentally become a smoker again without much of an effort.

The puff of a cigarette on a night out would turn into "Oh go on then, I'll just have one".  This would move to smoking "socially" and then suddenly, I would be a smoker again.

So, resolve back in place, stupidity back in check (for smoking at least haha).  I'm back on track.  

Me if I am not careful!!

The Right Time & Place

My friend has recently started a counselling course.  I have always thought that this would be the perfect job for her, as she has been counselling us all for years!

We were talking on Saturday night about the self therapy stuff that I've been doing and writing about, when it suddenly dawned on me.  This blog is public.  People (occasionally) read it.  Alongside my usual rants and ravings have been some really personal posts.

I'd never really thought about putting my life "out there" before until my friend pointed it out.  But then, if only strangers read it, what does it really matter?  Writing on here has really helped me in my progression.  I know myself well enough that if I were to simply keep a diary of my thoughts, I would eventually get rid of it and all the progress would be destroyed along with it. 

Here though, it's public.  People can read it.  When you realise that someone else is going to read what you are saying you take more time over time.  With that, you end up thinking far longer about the subject you are talking about.  In this case, me.

There is no right and wrong for processes that help you.  Whether it is picking the way you want to stop smoking to realising that you are depressed and finding the right help.  For me, that help turned out to be joining Twitter and starting a blog.

After telling my friend about the blog, we then proceeded to have an accidental counselling session.  I'm not sure how it started, but an hour and half's worth of me talking later, we suddenly looked at each other and wondered how that had just happened.  I had just told her more in that time about my "issues" then I have in the past 18 years of knowing her. 

After that conversation two things were obvious.  She was born to be a counsellor, and I was a giant step nearer to being ok.  I am so close to being the person I have always known I was meant to be, I can smell it.  Confidence in myself and self acceptance is not hiding around the corner now, it's just through a doorway.  All I have to do is open the door and step through.

The right time and place for me turned out to be 3.00am with a pizza.  Presumably for more organised people that would be 10.00am with a coffee.  But hey ;) 

Trolls

Trolls.  Not the kind featuring in the likes of The Hobbit who turn to stone when the first rays of sunlight hit them, but the human variety.

The type of people who prey on the weak, who delight in the misery of others and court controversy. 

We have all heard many stories about trolls before, from stalking celebrities to posting comments on RIP sites that would sicken you to read them.  Over the last 48 hours the troll "in thing" appears to be announcing that certain people have died. 

I have seen in the last couple of days death announcements, supposedly from the Twitter feeds of well known newspapers, that Matt Smith died of a heart attack in his flat, Margaret Thatcher has died and finally yesterday, that Prince Philip had died after his arrival in hospital.

I personally don't believe that any "trolling" activity is right.  I know someone who loves nothing more than to write on someone's status on Facebook or Google+ with something rude, purely to get the respondent to "bite".  They don't see that as a wrong thing to do.  I see them as baby trolls.

I have found though that you can get your trolls on their own, and then you can get "trolls united".  A mass of people, who for one reason or another like to ridicule others, who all send messages to the same person or site of a nasty and derogatory nature.

This was the case with a blog I read recently with a 17 year old who has a fascination for Formula One and likes to write about it.  Being an aspiring journalist he has created a website for his work.  I certainly couldn't have done anything like that at 17 and I admire his confidence, his work ethic and his will to succeed. 

He was unfortunately a target for a mass troll attack over the last day or so with people critising his writing, his website, himself as a person.....  This person is someone in college who is making something of himself and planning a career.  He wasn't sat around doing nothing and expecting the world to do things for him.

The majority were just regular people who had seemingly jumped on the band wagon of hate.  These people have normal lives with family, friends and social lives except once in a while, they seem to enjoy making nasty comments.  That doesn't make them normal, that makes them trolls.

In the end, I think what we all need to do is ignore them.  In the case of Twitter we have the ability to ignore, report and block.  In other mediums they can be reported or ignored. 

Whilst the human trolls don't turn into stone, maybe if we don't feed them by "biting back" at their jibes, they may wither away and go back to their own, let's face it, very sad and probably lonely lives.

Bat Shit Crazy

I think “My Way” may be the song that will forever describe my life.  I don’t do anything the way you are supposed to do it.  Things sometimes would be much easier if I did.

 

When I decide I want to do something, my tendency is to go with the snap decision.  There has been so many this year.  From stopping smoking without any aids or assistance, to deciding to start a degree and practically applying on the spot. 

My pet project this year appears to be working on myself.  This wasn’t intentional.  It’s just worked out that way.  I’ve done the quitting smoking, I’m broadening my horizons by starting the degree, now it’s time for the hardest one of all however, confidence.

Confidence is a strange creature.  When you don’t have any at all, you don’t really realise it.  Either that or you are in denial.  But when you gain confidence in certain areas of your life, the areas that don’t have it are suddenly blatantly obvious.

 

I have found my voice over the past couple of years.  I was, for some unknown reason, unable to give my opinion before and was always the quiet one in the conversation.  Whilst I am still shy when you meet me, I’m not afraid to have an opinion now and say what I think, controversial or no.  I have being on Twitter to thank for that and also this blog, as being the vehicle that helped me find my voice.

I have a theory.  I think confidence is catching.  Because the part of me that is now confident in what I think is now looking over at the other part, the part that has no self confidence at all, and it’s laughing at me.

Some of the things I do and have done over the years as a result of my lack of confidence I am now slowly finding absolutely hilarious.  Also a bit sad.  There are a top two of stupid things that my “You’re not good enough” feeling has caused me to do.

 

Idiot thing number one – multiple times offender

Consciously moving away from a date if we are out in a public place and his friends approach us.  Thought process: I don’t want him to be embarrassed.

Idiot thing number two – every bloody day

Seeing a group of people, men, women, teenagers, whatever and moving to the other side of the road.

Thought process: please don’t laugh at me

 

The confident part of me has highlighted these traits to me.  I honestly didn’t realise I was doing them before and I now I do realise, I will admit, I am bat shit crazy.  Reading what I have just written confirms it.
 

Why in the world have I spent 33 years of my life thinking I’m not good enough?  Sure, I’ll never be as beautiful as Keira Knightley and I’ll never be skinny, but I’m not the hunchback of Notre Dame either. 
 

Looks out that looking inward at yourself isn’t a bad thing.  You may discover that you are (in my case) bloody mad, but you may also discover that you are not as bad as you think you are.  So the achievement list this year reads:

 

1.     Stopped smoking.

2.    Started a degree.

3.    Realised I’m not an ogre.

4.    Realised I’m off my rocker ;)

A Good Ending

I watched the majority of the closing ceremony of the Olympics last night and whilst I was disappointed in it, I was also glad about that.

This sounds a funny thing to say I know.  Why on earth would I be glad that the closing ceremony wasn't anywhere near as good as was expected?

The answer to that question is that for me, the bad ending restored the balance of things.  I'm British.  We never expect everything to go well and, in my case at least, I don't trust something when every component goes exactly the way that it should.

I went into this Olympics I suspect much like many others in the British Isles.  Sceptical, wary and praying to hell that we wouldn't show ourselves up.

What happened in fact was that the opening ceremony was more than I could have ever expected it to be.  The games were carried out well and with decorum from the majority.  All of our athletes did us proud and we won more medals than we had ever expected.

Pride has been restored to the country and we experienced that wonderful "joining together" that us Brits are famous for doing, but so rarely do.

If the closing ceremony had in fact been just as good, I have a feeling that in time, we would have all have forgotten just how wonderful these two weeks have been.  Do you know why?  Because we wouldn't have trusted our memories.  Being the cynical creatures that most of us are, I believe that in a few months the memories would have been clouded.

Now though, we have our badly ending ceremony that will let us keep our memories the way we remember them now.  We can keep those glorious two weeks of celebration, hope and joining together.  They will stay in our memories now, because everything wasn't perfect.  Nothing that is really really good ever is.

 

It will probably sound strange to those of foreign climes, it may even sound strange to people from Great Britain, this thinking may just be may own.  But hey, it's my blog with my own thoughts.

GREAT Britain

I’ve watched more sport this weekend in one go than I think I ever have in my life.  Athletics, gymnastics, swimming, tennis, you name it and I’ve probably watched it.

I’ve never really been a sports fan apart from Formula One.  Suddenly this weekend I found myself cheering people on in sports I had never seen before, talking tactics on the 100m sprint and half way through the Murray/Federer match looking up tennis rules so I could understand what was going on!  By the end of the weekend “God Save the Queen” was practically running through my veins and I was more proud to be British than I ever have been.

You can say what you want about Great Britain.  Yes, we are usually a nation of moaners.  We expect the worst to happen and presume that it will.  We are self deprecating and constantly pick ourselves to pieces.  We are allowed to do this.  It’s our right, we live here.  But God help someone on the outside who tries to take us down.

It is exactly one year since the riots occurred and the spirit the supporters have shown in Olympic games really shows how far we have come since then.  I think that the riots happening shocked all of us and made us wonder just how fractured as a nation we had truly become.  The clean up organised afterwards was the first sign for me that people were standing together and refusing to let us fall apart. 

One thing Great Britain is truly good at, although it has been some time since it has happened, is joining together as one.  There can be no better example of this than when Jessica Ennis was in the final stage of the Heptathlon running in the 800m.  I have never in my life seen, heard or felt anything like what happened that night.  The roar of the stadium which grew and grew, the overwhelming feeling of pride and support for one of our own, it was truly unbelievable and something I don’t think I will ever forget.

You will always have the idiots of course, like Tom Daley’s Twitter troll and the Daily Mail (no explanation needed is there?).  Overwhelming though this weekend our sports men and women and the supporters both in the stadium and watching at home have stood together as a nation and reminded us that Great Britain truly is great.   We need to remember this feeling and carry it on.  Be proud to be British.