So I guess just about anyone who is breathing and over the age of, say 10 years old, has probably seen the video on Youtube of the crazy British woman on a tram from London to Croydon this week? The one entitled 'My tram experience'? I would have posted the video url here, but, well, as I said, everyone has probably seen it by now, and besides I don't really want to blight this page with smut like that. And I'm sorry, but that is truly how I see this video. My colleagues were talking about it in the office the other day and we all hopped onto Youtube to see what the fuss was about, and my mouth literally hung open in shock when I watched it. Other than the fact that she was clearly drunk and/or stoned and also, aside from the fact that she had a little boy on her lap, she was fearless and clearly insane. Well, I chose the word insane because one would have to be in order to sit there and pick on a tram full of people - full of multiracial people - and swear and spew racial abuse at them. Yes, I understand she has been arrested 'for her own safety' I am told, and this is probably for the best. I am sure when she came down from whatever she was on and I'm sure, on viewing the video of herself on Youtube, she was mortified. Well, one can only hope. But, my heart goes out to that little boy. What kind of environment will he be growing up in? Where he will be taught that hating someone just because they don't speak the same language or because they have a different colour skin is the acceptable thing to do. This is the 21st century. Our planet is getting smaller and smaller with every new advancement of technology and we all live in it, right on top of each other. Where will you be if you cannot accept that the town/country/planet where you live is made up of many different types of people. If you cannot be accepting of that, then i'm sorry, but its your life that is going to be hard to live. You, the racist.
I was born in a country where race hate was very much a part of my background. Everyone knows the history South Africa has with 'apartheid'. Its not pretty and I am not proud. But just because you grow up with it doesnt mean you have to be like that. We are nothing, if not the makers of our own fate/destiny. We are nothing, if not responsible for our own lives and happiness and thats why I chose not to be racist. Its a conscience decision that ultimately means that I don't carry issues of hate around with me. Yes, people piss me off sometimes. Yes, I get mad and swear at people sometimes, but I don't have issues with who they are, just some things that they do. And I don't give a damn what colour they are or what language they speak or in which country they were born. And I will tell you this, being accepting of people makes you a happier person. I don't want to walk around with hate in my heart and I don't know why anyone would choose to. Ultimately, it is you who will be miserable in yourself and I can only hope that little boy makes his own decisions and does not grow up into an adult believing the hate his mother spews or worse, that he becomes just like her.
Friday, 2 December 2011
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
The problem with me
For as long as I can remember, well, maybe not that long, but for many years now, there has been one thing that I have always wanted to do. This one thing has never changed and in fact, the more that time goes by, the more determined I am to make it happen. So, for the life of me, I cannot understand why I don't just sit down and sort it out. My dad has said some wise things in his time, but one of the wisest of them all, though he cannot take credit for coining the actual phrase although I do think of him every time I think it, is: 'If you want something bad enough, make it happen.' And I totally agree with that. I know I have said these same words to many people. With the added words of 'If you want something bad enough, go out and get it' and 'Only you can make your dreams come true' and (as if I haven't got my point quite across yet) 'You are in control of your own life, take control of it and go for it' etc.
A few years back, we had an administrator that used to work for us who had aspirations of working with Orang-utans. She had a passion for them and one day I said to her 'Trish, you are still young, there is nothing stopping you for doing just that, go study, go do what you need to do and live your dream. Because before you know it, you are 40, married and the chance is forever gone'. And that is just what she did. She is now doing something she totally loves. (although I believe her love went from those orange creatures to Gorilla's or something) but still, she is passionate about this and doing something she really enjoys. I wish somebody had said that to me when I was 20 years old. Or, maybe someone did, but I just wasn't listening.
Anyway, tick tock the clock goes, and indeed, before I knew it, I was married and 40 and working as an Office Manager for a recruitment consultancy with 2 children who are both in their teens and my excuse now is, 'there never is any time'.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Is that really a decent excuse? No, I don't think so, I think I've been lying to myself, because I think I'm scared. The problem with me is, I have delusions of grandeur. When I picture myself as a novelist, I picture me being someone everyone has heard of. I don't mind saying (as ridiculous as it is) that I want to be as big as Stephen King. I want to write a cult story like Stephanie Meyer. Be as well read as Jodi Picoult. Neither of these writers may have impressed you much, but the point is, everyone has heard of them! You might not be a fan of Twilight but the fact is, everyone knows what it is. And as for Stephen King, who hasn't heard of him? The list of successful novelists is huge and I want to be right up there with all of them.
So, the other day I had a serious think to myself. I need to stop that. Its not about writing the next best seller (although that would be nice) but its about seeing my work in print. One thing I used to say years ago, is it would be nice to know, when I die there is something of me left behind. And I know, I know, its easy to say 'well, you have your children left behind that is a part of you once you're gone' but that goes without saying and besides, so does millions of people. What would be nice though, is for my children, and my children's children and so on, to pick up a book and see my name of the cover and to read it and to be proud of that.
I've had some of my work published, but its poetry, and not to belittle all the fellow poets of the world, to me, its not quite the same. It was too easy to submit poetry and to get a letter back saying it was going to be published in some poetry compilation, and never to hear anything about that again. No, its not quite the same for me. I never even bought the poetry compilation books they were published in. That's my bad I guess. But I am willing to bet, not one of you who is reading this blog will own any of those either.
So what is the problem then? How badly do I want to write a novel? Oh My Goodness (censored that for you mom) More than you will ever know. I'm following a few writers on twitter. Brandon Ford, you might not realise it, but both you and Kimberly inspire me. Especially you. I do listen to the advise you give and I intend to apply it. I'm not actually stalking either of you *sticks out tongue* even if your conversations on there amuse me sometimes. The fact is, you've done it, so there is no reason I cannot. Unless of course, I cannot write to save me life. I don't believe that's true though.
So, enough of the procrastination. Enough of the excuses. Enough. I'm blogging this now, so I'm essentially setting myself up for ridicule if I don't, but the motivation needs to be more than that and it is, its there, it really is. I need to sit myself down and just make a start. The story is in my head. Its already there, I just need to start. And like I have been advised, set myself a target of so many words per day and just begin. I somehow think, once I do that, it will be a lot easier than I think, and I am hoping that I will be able to look back and ask myself why I was ever scared in the first place.
Here is hoping .....
I may not be the next Stephanie Meyer with a massive cult following who wrote a story loved by millions. Nor will I EVER be the next Stephen King. I can only be me, and hope that I manage to get published and read by at least one person who will enjoy it. Any more after that will only be a bonus.
Bx
Listening to Adele while I blog and having the best time - I could just keep typing forever.
A few years back, we had an administrator that used to work for us who had aspirations of working with Orang-utans. She had a passion for them and one day I said to her 'Trish, you are still young, there is nothing stopping you for doing just that, go study, go do what you need to do and live your dream. Because before you know it, you are 40, married and the chance is forever gone'. And that is just what she did. She is now doing something she totally loves. (although I believe her love went from those orange creatures to Gorilla's or something) but still, she is passionate about this and doing something she really enjoys. I wish somebody had said that to me when I was 20 years old. Or, maybe someone did, but I just wasn't listening.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Is that really a decent excuse? No, I don't think so, I think I've been lying to myself, because I think I'm scared. The problem with me is, I have delusions of grandeur. When I picture myself as a novelist, I picture me being someone everyone has heard of. I don't mind saying (as ridiculous as it is) that I want to be as big as Stephen King. I want to write a cult story like Stephanie Meyer. Be as well read as Jodi Picoult. Neither of these writers may have impressed you much, but the point is, everyone has heard of them! You might not be a fan of Twilight but the fact is, everyone knows what it is. And as for Stephen King, who hasn't heard of him? The list of successful novelists is huge and I want to be right up there with all of them.
So, the other day I had a serious think to myself. I need to stop that. Its not about writing the next best seller (although that would be nice) but its about seeing my work in print. One thing I used to say years ago, is it would be nice to know, when I die there is something of me left behind. And I know, I know, its easy to say 'well, you have your children left behind that is a part of you once you're gone' but that goes without saying and besides, so does millions of people. What would be nice though, is for my children, and my children's children and so on, to pick up a book and see my name of the cover and to read it and to be proud of that.
I've had some of my work published, but its poetry, and not to belittle all the fellow poets of the world, to me, its not quite the same. It was too easy to submit poetry and to get a letter back saying it was going to be published in some poetry compilation, and never to hear anything about that again. No, its not quite the same for me. I never even bought the poetry compilation books they were published in. That's my bad I guess. But I am willing to bet, not one of you who is reading this blog will own any of those either.
So what is the problem then? How badly do I want to write a novel? Oh My Goodness (censored that for you mom) More than you will ever know. I'm following a few writers on twitter. Brandon Ford, you might not realise it, but both you and Kimberly inspire me. Especially you. I do listen to the advise you give and I intend to apply it. I'm not actually stalking either of you *sticks out tongue* even if your conversations on there amuse me sometimes. The fact is, you've done it, so there is no reason I cannot. Unless of course, I cannot write to save me life. I don't believe that's true though.
So, enough of the procrastination. Enough of the excuses. Enough. I'm blogging this now, so I'm essentially setting myself up for ridicule if I don't, but the motivation needs to be more than that and it is, its there, it really is. I need to sit myself down and just make a start. The story is in my head. Its already there, I just need to start. And like I have been advised, set myself a target of so many words per day and just begin. I somehow think, once I do that, it will be a lot easier than I think, and I am hoping that I will be able to look back and ask myself why I was ever scared in the first place.
Here is hoping .....
I may not be the next Stephanie Meyer with a massive cult following who wrote a story loved by millions. Nor will I EVER be the next Stephen King. I can only be me, and hope that I manage to get published and read by at least one person who will enjoy it. Any more after that will only be a bonus.
Bx
Listening to Adele while I blog and having the best time - I could just keep typing forever.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
What is it with Romania?
Right, I don't know what is going on, but I don't trust it. Not one little bit.
For the last week or so, I have been getting a lot of random hits. OK, maybe a lot is an exaggeration, but there is around 5+ hits per day that I am rather confused about. Also, I have been checking the referral sites, and the one that shows up day after day is one I do not recognise. Turns out, I've made it to a search engine (or something) in Romania, and I have no idea why? Is it because I'm suddenly famous over there, well, I'm not inclined to believe that unless you know something I don't.....so...what is it? Why is it that suddenly Romania (and Russia) is hitting my website a few times everyday. Hmmmmm. I smell a rat!
Could it have something to do, do you think, with the fact that suddenly I'm getting comments on my blog? The sad thing though, is that its all spam. I never used to get this before either? Oh, how exciting it is for me every time I log on and am informed that there is an unauthorised comment waiting for my approval, only to read it to find someone is trying to sell me something. Or telling me how I can get my blog 'out there' for everyone to see. Now while I don't think that's such a bad idea, because, seriously what would be the point of all of this if I didn't want it out there for everyone to read, I am feeling a little bit like...hmmm...i don't trust you matey. Delete and Next!
So what is it with Romania? (And Russia). What has happened or what did I click that's got someone or something, clicking on my blog daily. Wish I knew.
Bx
For the last week or so, I have been getting a lot of random hits. OK, maybe a lot is an exaggeration, but there is around 5+ hits per day that I am rather confused about. Also, I have been checking the referral sites, and the one that shows up day after day is one I do not recognise. Turns out, I've made it to a search engine (or something) in Romania, and I have no idea why? Is it because I'm suddenly famous over there, well, I'm not inclined to believe that unless you know something I don't.....so...what is it? Why is it that suddenly Romania (and Russia) is hitting my website a few times everyday. Hmmmmm. I smell a rat!
Could it have something to do, do you think, with the fact that suddenly I'm getting comments on my blog? The sad thing though, is that its all spam. I never used to get this before either? Oh, how exciting it is for me every time I log on and am informed that there is an unauthorised comment waiting for my approval, only to read it to find someone is trying to sell me something. Or telling me how I can get my blog 'out there' for everyone to see. Now while I don't think that's such a bad idea, because, seriously what would be the point of all of this if I didn't want it out there for everyone to read, I am feeling a little bit like...hmmm...i don't trust you matey. Delete and Next!
So what is it with Romania? (And Russia). What has happened or what did I click that's got someone or something, clicking on my blog daily. Wish I knew.
Bx
Saturday, 5 November 2011
The Twilight Zone
So everything came to a head this week. You know how I have been complaining about my work load and about how I was struggling to cope? Well the last few weeks things have gone from bad to worse. I have been sat at the edge of my seat, day after day, literally ready to grab my bag, get up and walk out of the office, uttering a few words along the lines of 'take your damn job and shove it' (I've described the censored version here). Instead, I grab a cigarette and go downstairs and stand outside smoking, whilst trying to breathe deeply and stop myself from crying. I feel sorry for the few people that I drag downstairs with me and complain about my sad lot. I fear poor Colin's ears may start bleeding soon. If nothing else, I have grown sick of the sound of my own whining voice.
Earlier in the week a friend asked me on Facebook how things were going at work and I once again started typing about how awful it was, but then stopped myself because I really just didn't want to have to complain again, and instead, I said to her that I would need to sort this out once and for all. And finally, I realised that I would have to do something about this. While I was sat there complaining and feeling the way I was, nothing was changing, It was up to me to make that change. So, on Thursday, I sat my directors down and told them. And when I say told them, I mean I laid all my cards on the table and didn't hold back any punches. It was the best thing I have done in a very long time.
I was so incredibly scared. I don't know why I was so afraid, but I was literally shaking like a leaf. The heat of emotion spread across my chest and even as I sat there talking to them, tears were welling up in my eyes and I had to force myself to hold back. I did not want to get all emotional and girlie. I was ready to quit my job but I wanted to remain professional about it.
I was preparing myself for the challenges they were going to throw back at me to the things that I was saying. But this never happened. I thought I would have to try justify everything I was saying, but this too, I need not have worried about. Instead, they sat there in front of me nodding, agreeing to everything I was saying. As I sat there speaking, I felt this awful weight start to lift off me and slowly I started to smile. They agreed with me, with almost everything I stated. And the outcome of it all? Get whatever you need Bernadette. We know you are overworked. We knew this was coming. We are sorry we have neglected you.
Why had I not done this months ago?
What on earth is wrong with me?
If anyone knows me then they know how strongly I feel about communication. Speak, tell me how you feel, tell me what you want. Always be honest. This is me. Yet, for months I have sat in that office, slowly brewing like a volcano getting closer and closer to that inevitable explosion. What an idiot I have been! All I can think is that I have been subconsciously not wanting to appear to fail. That I have wanted to appear super efficient and able to cope with it all. That I would somehow catch up and get on top of things again. Oh the irony. I have not been able to catch up and get on top of it all for years. I don't know what I was thinking.
Anyway, since that conversation it is like I have entered the twilight zone. Suddenly, everything is different, suddenly the way I am being treated is different. Its like I have been raised up and put on this pedestal. I complained that I am not respected in the office and suddenly I am VIP employer. Obviously I am loving it, but it does all feel a bit surreal.
Its incredible what a bit of recognition can do for a persons self esteem.
At the moment, I am advertising for help and I have a few 100 CVs to go through this weekend from applicants. I CANNOT wait to get the interviews over with and to begin to train someone.
Yes, it will involve MORE work that I can very well do without. More of my time spent on training someone, time that I don't have, but I will have to do it in order to reap the benefits.At least I feel positive now, Its been a long time since I felt that at work, and I am SO happy about that.
I hope you never have to read me complain about work again. I wish never to have to hear my own voice whine 'woe is me!' I am not stupid enough to believe that its all happy days from here on in, as I know there will be lots of bumps in the road, but if I learned anything this week, it was to speak up before things get that bad again, so I never need sit down here again and blog about how unhappy and overworked I am at work. If I ever do, please remind me of this...
Bx
Earlier in the week a friend asked me on Facebook how things were going at work and I once again started typing about how awful it was, but then stopped myself because I really just didn't want to have to complain again, and instead, I said to her that I would need to sort this out once and for all. And finally, I realised that I would have to do something about this. While I was sat there complaining and feeling the way I was, nothing was changing, It was up to me to make that change. So, on Thursday, I sat my directors down and told them. And when I say told them, I mean I laid all my cards on the table and didn't hold back any punches. It was the best thing I have done in a very long time.
I was so incredibly scared. I don't know why I was so afraid, but I was literally shaking like a leaf. The heat of emotion spread across my chest and even as I sat there talking to them, tears were welling up in my eyes and I had to force myself to hold back. I did not want to get all emotional and girlie. I was ready to quit my job but I wanted to remain professional about it.
I was preparing myself for the challenges they were going to throw back at me to the things that I was saying. But this never happened. I thought I would have to try justify everything I was saying, but this too, I need not have worried about. Instead, they sat there in front of me nodding, agreeing to everything I was saying. As I sat there speaking, I felt this awful weight start to lift off me and slowly I started to smile. They agreed with me, with almost everything I stated. And the outcome of it all? Get whatever you need Bernadette. We know you are overworked. We knew this was coming. We are sorry we have neglected you.
Why had I not done this months ago?
What on earth is wrong with me?
If anyone knows me then they know how strongly I feel about communication. Speak, tell me how you feel, tell me what you want. Always be honest. This is me. Yet, for months I have sat in that office, slowly brewing like a volcano getting closer and closer to that inevitable explosion. What an idiot I have been! All I can think is that I have been subconsciously not wanting to appear to fail. That I have wanted to appear super efficient and able to cope with it all. That I would somehow catch up and get on top of things again. Oh the irony. I have not been able to catch up and get on top of it all for years. I don't know what I was thinking.
Anyway, since that conversation it is like I have entered the twilight zone. Suddenly, everything is different, suddenly the way I am being treated is different. Its like I have been raised up and put on this pedestal. I complained that I am not respected in the office and suddenly I am VIP employer. Obviously I am loving it, but it does all feel a bit surreal.
Its incredible what a bit of recognition can do for a persons self esteem.
At the moment, I am advertising for help and I have a few 100 CVs to go through this weekend from applicants. I CANNOT wait to get the interviews over with and to begin to train someone.
Yes, it will involve MORE work that I can very well do without. More of my time spent on training someone, time that I don't have, but I will have to do it in order to reap the benefits.At least I feel positive now, Its been a long time since I felt that at work, and I am SO happy about that.
I hope you never have to read me complain about work again. I wish never to have to hear my own voice whine 'woe is me!' I am not stupid enough to believe that its all happy days from here on in, as I know there will be lots of bumps in the road, but if I learned anything this week, it was to speak up before things get that bad again, so I never need sit down here again and blog about how unhappy and overworked I am at work. If I ever do, please remind me of this...
Bx
Saturday, 22 October 2011
Stephen
My love affair with Stephen goes back a long long time. I cant remember how old I was exactly. 11? 13? I'm not sure now but it was somewhere around there when I went to our local library - which was all of about 50 steps outside my front gate - and picked up a book entitled Christine. I remember holding the book in my hands and thinking that it would be the fattest book I would have read at that point in my life. I dared myself and walked back the 50 odd steps and sat down to begin what was to become the beginning of my long standing fascination with Mr King.
I was instantly addicted. I love his writing style, his plot lines, how he makes you believe in the characters. Root for them, love some of them, hate some of them. I've read nearly every single book he has ever written with the exception of just a few, notably the Dark Tower series. I'm honest when I say I'm not sure why I haven't read any of those, but for some reason, the covers have always sort of put me off. (Ridiculous I know) And I'll be honest when I say I've never even picked up one to read what its actually about, but that is one series Ive always gone...'meh...not bothered'. But there you go. Perhaps, after I've written this, I will go downstairs, pick up the first book in the series and have a read and change my mind.
If i say I've read a 100 books in my life, I would be fibbing...Ive easily read a thousand books, if not more. I wish there was a way of counting, but there isn't. Many I've forgotten. I'll pick up a book and look at the cover and not remember that I've read it. Some, I'll even read the story synopsis on the back cover and it wont look familiar. Not until I've read a few pages into it and realise that I have already read it. Those are the books that don't really make much of an impact on me. Then there are those that do, and I blogged about Rosamund Lupton recently so she clearly did. But then there is Mr King's books. I remember each and every one of them. Ive recommended many of his books to friends of mine, and have lost many books by lending them out. A lesson I never really seem to learn from.
But, if I was to choose just one book, in all the books I've ever read to be my favourite book it would be, without a doubt, The Stand. Ive read it a few times and I'll read it a few times more, and I'm not talking the watered down version, I'm talking the uncut version. It truly is an epic of a story which stays with you for days and days after. The last time I read it, even though I knew I was coming to the end of the story, and even though I knew how it ended, I still didn't want it to end. I just wished I could carry on reading it forever.
Yesterday, I saw a clip of Stephen King giving an interview about 11.22.63 and I was shocked to see how much he had aged. I still remember his picture on the back of the book of Christine and that's the face I see every time I think of him, yet there he was, talking about where he was when Kennedy was assassinated, and that that was their 911 of the time and it got me thinking about all of our mortality and the thought that he would one day no longer be around to write any more books was an incredibly sad thought for me. I'm always looking out for his next new book. I loved Dome - read it in a few days and I loved Cell. He is yet to disappoint me.
One day, when trying to explain to my daughter, the wonder of Mr King, I grabbed IT off the shelf and started to read the first few pages to her. The story gripped her, like I knew it would, right from the start, and later, I overheard her telling her brother the little bit of the story that I had read to her. She is yet to pick up the book and read it proper for herself though.
So...what is this blog all about then. Goodness knows really? Except to say that I am so thankful for Mr King, and for authors like him. Thinking of Mr Dean R Koontz now. I love reading and love nothing better than to be transported into another world. I love the fact that I can read horror and be scared out of my wits, but close the book after a while and be safe and simply enjoy the story as it was meant to be enjoyed.
I am currently reading Brandon Ford - Decayed Etchings, this is a new discovery of mine (I'll thank Twitter for that) and the jury is still out on what I think about him. He has a rather weird imagination. Somewhat dark, which I love, and one or two of his stories in this book has stayed with me, which is good. One of these stories actually made me queasy and that takes a lot nowadays, but a lot of the endings to his short stories leave me feeling rather flat and I sit there thinking...really? That's it? I think I'll reserve judgement until Ive read a full novel of his first though.
I'll keep you posted.
Bx
I was instantly addicted. I love his writing style, his plot lines, how he makes you believe in the characters. Root for them, love some of them, hate some of them. I've read nearly every single book he has ever written with the exception of just a few, notably the Dark Tower series. I'm honest when I say I'm not sure why I haven't read any of those, but for some reason, the covers have always sort of put me off. (Ridiculous I know) And I'll be honest when I say I've never even picked up one to read what its actually about, but that is one series Ive always gone...'meh...not bothered'. But there you go. Perhaps, after I've written this, I will go downstairs, pick up the first book in the series and have a read and change my mind.
If i say I've read a 100 books in my life, I would be fibbing...Ive easily read a thousand books, if not more. I wish there was a way of counting, but there isn't. Many I've forgotten. I'll pick up a book and look at the cover and not remember that I've read it. Some, I'll even read the story synopsis on the back cover and it wont look familiar. Not until I've read a few pages into it and realise that I have already read it. Those are the books that don't really make much of an impact on me. Then there are those that do, and I blogged about Rosamund Lupton recently so she clearly did. But then there is Mr King's books. I remember each and every one of them. Ive recommended many of his books to friends of mine, and have lost many books by lending them out. A lesson I never really seem to learn from.
But, if I was to choose just one book, in all the books I've ever read to be my favourite book it would be, without a doubt, The Stand. Ive read it a few times and I'll read it a few times more, and I'm not talking the watered down version, I'm talking the uncut version. It truly is an epic of a story which stays with you for days and days after. The last time I read it, even though I knew I was coming to the end of the story, and even though I knew how it ended, I still didn't want it to end. I just wished I could carry on reading it forever.
Yesterday, I saw a clip of Stephen King giving an interview about 11.22.63 and I was shocked to see how much he had aged. I still remember his picture on the back of the book of Christine and that's the face I see every time I think of him, yet there he was, talking about where he was when Kennedy was assassinated, and that that was their 911 of the time and it got me thinking about all of our mortality and the thought that he would one day no longer be around to write any more books was an incredibly sad thought for me. I'm always looking out for his next new book. I loved Dome - read it in a few days and I loved Cell. He is yet to disappoint me.
One day, when trying to explain to my daughter, the wonder of Mr King, I grabbed IT off the shelf and started to read the first few pages to her. The story gripped her, like I knew it would, right from the start, and later, I overheard her telling her brother the little bit of the story that I had read to her. She is yet to pick up the book and read it proper for herself though.
So...what is this blog all about then. Goodness knows really? Except to say that I am so thankful for Mr King, and for authors like him. Thinking of Mr Dean R Koontz now. I love reading and love nothing better than to be transported into another world. I love the fact that I can read horror and be scared out of my wits, but close the book after a while and be safe and simply enjoy the story as it was meant to be enjoyed.
I am currently reading Brandon Ford - Decayed Etchings, this is a new discovery of mine (I'll thank Twitter for that) and the jury is still out on what I think about him. He has a rather weird imagination. Somewhat dark, which I love, and one or two of his stories in this book has stayed with me, which is good. One of these stories actually made me queasy and that takes a lot nowadays, but a lot of the endings to his short stories leave me feeling rather flat and I sit there thinking...really? That's it? I think I'll reserve judgement until Ive read a full novel of his first though.
I'll keep you posted.
Bx
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Life
Dammit, I haven't blogged in ages. *Slaps herself hard on the wrist* Its pretty terrible of me, but I've been in this 'couldnt be arsed' mood, which is good in a way as I don't have any pressing topics to blog about, but bad as the creative juices stop flowing. (if I ever had any of them in the first place??)
Anyway, here is my list of excuses...there aren't that many really in all honesty.
I've, ermm...been busy ...ermmm..Gaming.
Yeah, that's my latest thing.
Spend literally 30 minutes on facebook - and lately 30 minutes on twitter (my new thing too - I blame Alycia) and then I'm off playing some or other game. The Second Life fetish is over for now. (Pete will be terribly relieved to know) but I'll never say never again, coz anything can happen and I may find myself wondering down that road again one day, but for now, its all about gaming.
I'm not sure if that's as sad as Second Life? It probably is but as long as I'm happy right?
It was my birthday a few days ago and I got loads of games, so I'll be trying them out and finding out if I have any new favourites. For now, I'm still loving Age of Empires, Rise of Nations, and really enjoying the 'cute and prettiness' of Settlers.
Aside from that, there isn't much else going on. Work is as bad as ever, and getting worse. It really is getting so bad that I literally cannot cope anymore. I have a review next week and I'll be saying my peace. I hope it goes my way, but if not, I will have to cut my losses and say goodbye to that bunch. One can only take that much right?
Other than that, I had an idea just now. I thought I might take all my poems that Ive done so far and put them here. Not sure if you would be interested in reading them or not, or if anyone that hasn't been to my old websites and had a look would want to see them, but I thought I could add them all here and hopefully get a comment or two? I don't know, I always hope for comments and they don't happen (hint hint).
I will try get here more often and blog. Its silly that Ive let it slide. But, as they always say I guess, no news is good news.
Right, I'm outta here.
Speak soon
Bx
Anyway, here is my list of excuses...there aren't that many really in all honesty.
I've, ermm...been busy ...ermmm..Gaming.
Yeah, that's my latest thing.
Spend literally 30 minutes on facebook - and lately 30 minutes on twitter (my new thing too - I blame Alycia) and then I'm off playing some or other game. The Second Life fetish is over for now. (Pete will be terribly relieved to know) but I'll never say never again, coz anything can happen and I may find myself wondering down that road again one day, but for now, its all about gaming.
I'm not sure if that's as sad as Second Life? It probably is but as long as I'm happy right?
It was my birthday a few days ago and I got loads of games, so I'll be trying them out and finding out if I have any new favourites. For now, I'm still loving Age of Empires, Rise of Nations, and really enjoying the 'cute and prettiness' of Settlers.
Aside from that, there isn't much else going on. Work is as bad as ever, and getting worse. It really is getting so bad that I literally cannot cope anymore. I have a review next week and I'll be saying my peace. I hope it goes my way, but if not, I will have to cut my losses and say goodbye to that bunch. One can only take that much right?
Other than that, I had an idea just now. I thought I might take all my poems that Ive done so far and put them here. Not sure if you would be interested in reading them or not, or if anyone that hasn't been to my old websites and had a look would want to see them, but I thought I could add them all here and hopefully get a comment or two? I don't know, I always hope for comments and they don't happen (hint hint).
I will try get here more often and blog. Its silly that Ive let it slide. But, as they always say I guess, no news is good news.
Right, I'm outta here.
Speak soon
Bx
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Holidays
Ive been away for 2 weeks and have just returend from VERY sunny Crete in Greece. I loved and adored it. I wanted to blog while I was away, but due to me having too much fun, AND limited Internet connection, it just didnt happen.
I will be catching up with blogging as soon as i've caught up with everything else.
Photos being uploaded to facebook as we speak.
Bx
I will be catching up with blogging as soon as i've caught up with everything else.
Photos being uploaded to facebook as we speak.
Bx
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Acceptance
Is sometimes one of the hardest things to do. I have been struggling to accept this one thing since the day I turned 24. I have no idea why I've turned out this way. I wish it was so, but there you go. It is what it is as they say.
This morning, I was looking in the mirror while applying my makeup getting ready for work and was looking at all the grey in my hair and thinking it was due for another colour, when my thoughts drifted to a conversation I had had last night with an old school friend of mine. – No emphasis on the word old please!- and I was thinking of her asking me how I felt that I was on the cusp of experiencing empty nest syndrome. Now, while the idea of having the house to myself is intriguing, the thought that my children are almost old enough to actually be leaving the house is terrifying. You don’t understand, it is literally terrifying.
When they say time races by, they are not kidding. I remember my daughter being a little baby in my arms and truly, it feels like only a year ago or so now. The truth is, its 17 years ago and I have no idea where the time went. In that time, my son has been born, I've gone through the toddler stage, teething stage, just starting school phase and boyfriends and girlfriend stage. Ive seen my daughter finish school and start college and watched my son grow taller than me. This has literally all happened in a blink of an eye. I cannot sit here and reminisce about it but its almost like it didn’t happen. One minute they were babies, the next I’m discussing empty next syndrome with my friend.
Oh My God, how did this happen?
And more importantly, WHY does the idea of my children growing up freak me out?
I remember back when I was something like 10 years old and my mom was telling me about this friend of theirs who was age phobic. She said something along the lines of him not been able to accept that he was ‘getting old’ and sometimes acted like a child and she insinuated that this was indeed a terribly sad thing. I am just like him now.
I'll be turning 41 this year. Yet, the average age of my friends is around 30. The ethic in my office is a young one, where I guess, the average age is 27 and I am the 2nd eldest there, yet I am the first one going out after work for a quick drink. Or the one texting my husband saying that I'm meeting up with friends after work and am going clubbing. I have no idea what my younger mates must think of this, nor do I want to know, but I am not going to suddenly become old and graceful. No, I don’t think so!
I am the one telling my daughter that I look forward to her turning 18 so that her and I can go clubbing. What is up with that? Worse, is she actually seems to be looking forward to it? I guess, this is a good thing, but I can imagine my horror if my mother had said the same thing to me 20 years ago. Perhaps my daughter is just humouring me. Goodness knows what she says about me behind my back.
So, why am I blogging about this? Because it is a real issue for me. If I could just start acting my age, grabbing the slippers and the knitting and forget about hanging out with my younger friends then all would be well in the world. If I could join my husband, who I am sure I must irritate a great deal with me ‘Lets go out!’ or ‘Do you mind if I go out tonight’ and be content with spending my evenings in front of the television and not downloading the latest hits to my ipod then I’m sure he would be very pleased. But the sight of grey hairs on my head, saggy skin and wrinkles which I am sure will be arriving soon, actually freaks me out. Imagine how I am going to be when menopause hits? I don’t even want to contemplate it!
They say 40 is the new 30. I can live with that, but I'm not sure if my 20 something behaviour is all that cool? It’s probably not, but I cannot help it. I'm not about to go lay down and get old. If I could freeze time then I would.
No, I'm not one of those parents that looks forward to her grandchildren arriving. I’m not one of those people who look forward to retirement. Well, the part where I don’t have to go work sounds good to me, but I don’t want to fall into the OAP category. Id rather someone took me outside and shot me before I got there.
You think I'm kidding? I'm not. My close friends who know me will have probably heard me say this before. If I came into a lot of money, id be booking my appointment with the plastic surgeon for a bit of nip and tucks and scheduling the botox. I'm not quite ready for a facelift yet thank you very much!
But Ohhhhh to be able to age gracefully would save me so much time, money and energy.
Are there pills out there I can buy for me to accept that I'm not 26 anymore? Would I even buy them if there was? Probably not.
This morning, I was looking in the mirror while applying my makeup getting ready for work and was looking at all the grey in my hair and thinking it was due for another colour, when my thoughts drifted to a conversation I had had last night with an old school friend of mine. – No emphasis on the word old please!- and I was thinking of her asking me how I felt that I was on the cusp of experiencing empty nest syndrome. Now, while the idea of having the house to myself is intriguing, the thought that my children are almost old enough to actually be leaving the house is terrifying. You don’t understand, it is literally terrifying.
When they say time races by, they are not kidding. I remember my daughter being a little baby in my arms and truly, it feels like only a year ago or so now. The truth is, its 17 years ago and I have no idea where the time went. In that time, my son has been born, I've gone through the toddler stage, teething stage, just starting school phase and boyfriends and girlfriend stage. Ive seen my daughter finish school and start college and watched my son grow taller than me. This has literally all happened in a blink of an eye. I cannot sit here and reminisce about it but its almost like it didn’t happen. One minute they were babies, the next I’m discussing empty next syndrome with my friend.
Oh My God, how did this happen?
And more importantly, WHY does the idea of my children growing up freak me out?
I remember back when I was something like 10 years old and my mom was telling me about this friend of theirs who was age phobic. She said something along the lines of him not been able to accept that he was ‘getting old’ and sometimes acted like a child and she insinuated that this was indeed a terribly sad thing. I am just like him now.
I'll be turning 41 this year. Yet, the average age of my friends is around 30. The ethic in my office is a young one, where I guess, the average age is 27 and I am the 2nd eldest there, yet I am the first one going out after work for a quick drink. Or the one texting my husband saying that I'm meeting up with friends after work and am going clubbing. I have no idea what my younger mates must think of this, nor do I want to know, but I am not going to suddenly become old and graceful. No, I don’t think so!
I am the one telling my daughter that I look forward to her turning 18 so that her and I can go clubbing. What is up with that? Worse, is she actually seems to be looking forward to it? I guess, this is a good thing, but I can imagine my horror if my mother had said the same thing to me 20 years ago. Perhaps my daughter is just humouring me. Goodness knows what she says about me behind my back.
So, why am I blogging about this? Because it is a real issue for me. If I could just start acting my age, grabbing the slippers and the knitting and forget about hanging out with my younger friends then all would be well in the world. If I could join my husband, who I am sure I must irritate a great deal with me ‘Lets go out!’ or ‘Do you mind if I go out tonight’ and be content with spending my evenings in front of the television and not downloading the latest hits to my ipod then I’m sure he would be very pleased. But the sight of grey hairs on my head, saggy skin and wrinkles which I am sure will be arriving soon, actually freaks me out. Imagine how I am going to be when menopause hits? I don’t even want to contemplate it!
They say 40 is the new 30. I can live with that, but I'm not sure if my 20 something behaviour is all that cool? It’s probably not, but I cannot help it. I'm not about to go lay down and get old. If I could freeze time then I would.
No, I'm not one of those parents that looks forward to her grandchildren arriving. I’m not one of those people who look forward to retirement. Well, the part where I don’t have to go work sounds good to me, but I don’t want to fall into the OAP category. Id rather someone took me outside and shot me before I got there.
You think I'm kidding? I'm not. My close friends who know me will have probably heard me say this before. If I came into a lot of money, id be booking my appointment with the plastic surgeon for a bit of nip and tucks and scheduling the botox. I'm not quite ready for a facelift yet thank you very much!
But Ohhhhh to be able to age gracefully would save me so much time, money and energy.
Are there pills out there I can buy for me to accept that I'm not 26 anymore? Would I even buy them if there was? Probably not.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Red tape and London
I've booked a holiday ...yay me...and its all very exciting, coz we are off to a SUNNY (hopefully) Greek Island. I've been dreaming about going on holiday to a Greek Island (seriously, it has had to be a Greek Island) for a good while now, so imagine my excitement when I came out of the travel agency last Friday with a booked itinerary in my hands. Oh I just couldn't wait to get home and google all kinds of tropical Mediterranean beaches and get satellite images of the hotel where we are going to stay.
There was just this little issue that I needed sorting though, before I would allow myself to get overly excited and that was to sort out the visa's for the kids. Lucky for me, I already have one from my previous trip to Chamonix in February so I knew I was all sorted.
Imagine my disappointment then, when I read that Greece wasn't as accommodating as France and that it required a visit to the Greek embassy in London - this after a semi panic of hearing that the earliest appointment I could get is September 2nd! (false alarm). We would have been back from our holiday by almost 2 weeks by then! Luckily, being family members, we get to skip the 'make an appointment part' and come straight on in, and therefore we are all off to London tomorrow to try and get ourselves some visa's.
I am not looking forward to it. I remember what it was like when I applied for my first extension visa in the UK (the one that you apply for after you marry, where you get 1 years further grace to live here). I think it was called a spouse visa, but I'm not so sure now. Sitting there, waiting to see somebody, reminds me a bit like an A&E only with 5 times the amount of people. Mostly, everyone is speaking a foreign language (I guess they will all be speaking Greek tomorrow) and you feel a little bit like cattle or sheep being herded from one stall to another. And then you play the waiting game. I will be taking my book along, there is about 100 pages left to read, but its a good thing Ive got a kindle too coz once I finish that book, I can just download another.
Well, I say that as if I'm hoping to be waiting around for something. The best case scenario is I leave tomorrow with 2 x new schengen visa's in my hands. (That would be the payoff for the sitting around waiting.) Worst case, is I wont have them before August 5th when we leave because a) they don't somehow see me tomorrow or b) they do but the visa's don't get here in time. So, as far as I'm concerned, just having them, anytime between tomorrow and August 5th is a result.
I really hate all the red tape and bureaucratic drama involved whenever you deal with a government department like that. I know I should seriously start considering looking into citizenship and getting that all behind me, but that's another nightmare I always prefer not to deal with yet always comes around to haunt me in times like this.
So, wish me luck tomorrow. Ill let you know how it went.
Bx
There was just this little issue that I needed sorting though, before I would allow myself to get overly excited and that was to sort out the visa's for the kids. Lucky for me, I already have one from my previous trip to Chamonix in February so I knew I was all sorted.
Imagine my disappointment then, when I read that Greece wasn't as accommodating as France and that it required a visit to the Greek embassy in London - this after a semi panic of hearing that the earliest appointment I could get is September 2nd! (false alarm). We would have been back from our holiday by almost 2 weeks by then! Luckily, being family members, we get to skip the 'make an appointment part' and come straight on in, and therefore we are all off to London tomorrow to try and get ourselves some visa's.
I am not looking forward to it. I remember what it was like when I applied for my first extension visa in the UK (the one that you apply for after you marry, where you get 1 years further grace to live here). I think it was called a spouse visa, but I'm not so sure now. Sitting there, waiting to see somebody, reminds me a bit like an A&E only with 5 times the amount of people. Mostly, everyone is speaking a foreign language (I guess they will all be speaking Greek tomorrow) and you feel a little bit like cattle or sheep being herded from one stall to another. And then you play the waiting game. I will be taking my book along, there is about 100 pages left to read, but its a good thing Ive got a kindle too coz once I finish that book, I can just download another.
Well, I say that as if I'm hoping to be waiting around for something. The best case scenario is I leave tomorrow with 2 x new schengen visa's in my hands. (That would be the payoff for the sitting around waiting.) Worst case, is I wont have them before August 5th when we leave because a) they don't somehow see me tomorrow or b) they do but the visa's don't get here in time. So, as far as I'm concerned, just having them, anytime between tomorrow and August 5th is a result.
I really hate all the red tape and bureaucratic drama involved whenever you deal with a government department like that. I know I should seriously start considering looking into citizenship and getting that all behind me, but that's another nightmare I always prefer not to deal with yet always comes around to haunt me in times like this.
So, wish me luck tomorrow. Ill let you know how it went.
Bx
Saturday, 16 July 2011
I'm not morbid, I promise
So I'm sat here tonight wondering what to write about? I was sat here last night, fingers hovering over the keys on my keyboard, wondering the same thing, when my facebook chat thingie beeped and it was a friend asking me how my blogging was going. I said it was going great (coz it is and I love it) but that I was a little stuck for what to write about. I asked him how his book was going, and he said he was suffering from lack of motivation. So we chatted, and the chat somehow turned onto the subject of serial killers.
This is the part where I try to convince you I'm not morbid. (or weird, though after my chat with my friend last night, he may not agree)
Ever had a fascination in something that when you told people about it, they look at you funny? I tend to get that from time to time when I get all excited on the topic of serial killers. A few years back, I announced to my office colleagues that I was very excited because I was stopping off at 25 Cromwell Street in Gloucester on my way down south to Cornwall. Some gave me rather blank looks, but some looked at me in horror like I had just announced I was going to dye my hair blond or cut off my leg. The truth is, I was really excited to go there. Mostly because I had read so much about it and I wanted to be able to say I'd been there, I'd seen it for myself.
I don't know where my fascination in serial killings started. I think it was round about the time my fascination in World War two Nazi extermination camps started (you freaked out yet?). This is about 10 years ago.
What happened was, I had moved back home to my parents house in order to get myself ready to emigrate to the UK. I didn't have too much to do with my time other than sit around and sunbathe (oh the pain of it!) while I waited for my visa's to come through. My grandfather had been a soldier in World War 2 and had fought up in north Africa and my mom showed me his diaries that he had kept while fighting. I kept a website then too, and I offered to have them typed up and put on the web for whoever to read them. It took me a few weeks but I did eventually get them all typed up. What happened though, is that I got engrossed in his story and I started googling information on world war 2 and one thing led to another and I got to read all about the various death camps around Germany and Poland....and my fascination in that was born. (Click here for the link to my grandfathers diaries).
I remember somehow happening on a site about murderers - it was something about a true story being converted into a movie called 'Paradise Lost' and me getting engrossed in that. That led to me ending up on a site called Crime Library and it just took off from there.
I had never thought much about it before. To be fair, thinking about killers and how they think was something that never crossed my mind. But once I started reading about all the different serial killers in the world (and there are SO MANY) I become totally engrossed and completely fascinated.
Its not because I love the idea of killing. Don't misunderstand me! Its the fact that I wonder what goes through their minds. What makes some people different that they can kill, and get a thrill from it? If you asked me to pick somebody random in the street and kill them, I would bulk and would never even consider such a thing, so why are there people out there that hunt and kill others and enjoy it. Its this part that fascinates me.
Ive done a lot of reading on the subject. I've gathered a lot of facts and assumptions of why some people kill and why others don't. But I don't think anybody will ever really know the answer for sure. In some cases, not even the killers themselves know. But, to be sat, in front of somebody that is considered a serial killer would be incredible to me. What would I say? What questions would I ask? I don't know, but to get just a small insight into their minds, to understand just a little of what makes them tick, would be absolutely amazing.
So there, I did get a little motivation from my conversation last night. I was walking to the office this morning, thinking about that conversation and thought, I could blog about this. Try and explain how I feel about this.
I do hope I haven't freaked you out too much. I promise I have no murderous tendencies. And although my fascinations on some things may be slightly on the morbid side, as a person, I am anything but morbid :)
Till next time.
Bx
This is the part where I try to convince you I'm not morbid. (or weird, though after my chat with my friend last night, he may not agree)
Ever had a fascination in something that when you told people about it, they look at you funny? I tend to get that from time to time when I get all excited on the topic of serial killers. A few years back, I announced to my office colleagues that I was very excited because I was stopping off at 25 Cromwell Street in Gloucester on my way down south to Cornwall. Some gave me rather blank looks, but some looked at me in horror like I had just announced I was going to dye my hair blond or cut off my leg. The truth is, I was really excited to go there. Mostly because I had read so much about it and I wanted to be able to say I'd been there, I'd seen it for myself.
I don't know where my fascination in serial killings started. I think it was round about the time my fascination in World War two Nazi extermination camps started (you freaked out yet?). This is about 10 years ago.
What happened was, I had moved back home to my parents house in order to get myself ready to emigrate to the UK. I didn't have too much to do with my time other than sit around and sunbathe (oh the pain of it!) while I waited for my visa's to come through. My grandfather had been a soldier in World War 2 and had fought up in north Africa and my mom showed me his diaries that he had kept while fighting. I kept a website then too, and I offered to have them typed up and put on the web for whoever to read them. It took me a few weeks but I did eventually get them all typed up. What happened though, is that I got engrossed in his story and I started googling information on world war 2 and one thing led to another and I got to read all about the various death camps around Germany and Poland....and my fascination in that was born. (Click here for the link to my grandfathers diaries).
I remember somehow happening on a site about murderers - it was something about a true story being converted into a movie called 'Paradise Lost' and me getting engrossed in that. That led to me ending up on a site called Crime Library and it just took off from there.
I had never thought much about it before. To be fair, thinking about killers and how they think was something that never crossed my mind. But once I started reading about all the different serial killers in the world (and there are SO MANY) I become totally engrossed and completely fascinated.
Its not because I love the idea of killing. Don't misunderstand me! Its the fact that I wonder what goes through their minds. What makes some people different that they can kill, and get a thrill from it? If you asked me to pick somebody random in the street and kill them, I would bulk and would never even consider such a thing, so why are there people out there that hunt and kill others and enjoy it. Its this part that fascinates me.
Ive done a lot of reading on the subject. I've gathered a lot of facts and assumptions of why some people kill and why others don't. But I don't think anybody will ever really know the answer for sure. In some cases, not even the killers themselves know. But, to be sat, in front of somebody that is considered a serial killer would be incredible to me. What would I say? What questions would I ask? I don't know, but to get just a small insight into their minds, to understand just a little of what makes them tick, would be absolutely amazing.
So there, I did get a little motivation from my conversation last night. I was walking to the office this morning, thinking about that conversation and thought, I could blog about this. Try and explain how I feel about this.
I do hope I haven't freaked you out too much. I promise I have no murderous tendencies. And although my fascinations on some things may be slightly on the morbid side, as a person, I am anything but morbid :)
Till next time.
Bx
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