Dear Miss Hatherell, We understand that you have been exceedingly busy these last few weeks and have neglected to find any inspiration for your blog. Whilst we commend your position of not just updating for the sake of it, but actually producing posts of sustenance, it has come to our attention that your posts have become rather sparse. We would like to encourage to brainstorm some ideas, whilst also keeping up with the plans you made for this blog almost 6 months ago. No more excuses. Yours sincerely, The Society for Those Who Need a Good Kick Up the Arse
If I look back on my life so far it would
look like the life of about 5 or 6 different people. It’s not that I struggle
to identify or to fit in anywhere, but with growing up all over the place, in
different schools, different cultures, I acquired the power to blend seamlessly
into any environment (something I know I’ve mentioned in previous posts).
It was a sort of mechanism built in from
travelling when I was younger. Changing schools so much meant different people,
different trends – even different accents, so instead of sticking out like a
sore thumb I camouflaged myself, so it seemed I had been there since time
began, rather than the new kid that started Monday.
I wouldn’t say this is a hindrance, being
able to blend into any sort of situation, accent, foreign country like some
sort of third culture secret agent, but it has made me second guess myself when
it comes to things I like – or rather think
I’ve been through the normal (or not so
normal as the case may be) teenage phases from punk/emo chick to preppy
Holister girl. I’ve dyed my hair all the colours of the rainbow at one time or
another, and just when I think I’ve found who I am, something else catches my
eye and I change again.
Clothing, fashion, shoes, make up, jewelry
– the lot. It’s all supposed to be an expression of who you are and what you
like. I suppose I struggle because I like a whole myriad of things, it’s hard
to pin point myself in one particular group.
When I think I like something, I worry it’s
just a product of my environment and not because I actually like it. Do I like
it because the people I’m hanging out with at the time like it? Or do I like it
because I genuinely feel some sort of affinity with the genre of
clothing/music? It’s hard to say.
A lot of people, especially the young,
delve into certain scenes and make it their entire personality. I’ve been there
and done that. I know from experience, that if it’s just a phase, you’ll come
out of it bewildered and a tad unsure of who you are (The Great Punk Exodus of
2006 taught me this).
I suppose when I’m freaking out about
whether or to dip dye my hair because I’m unsure it will suit me and will
people see me as some big fake poser, I think to myself, Christ, you’re only 23 and it makes it better.
So if not now, when? Carpe Diem my friends, it’s the only way to make sure you
have different facets of your personality on display. I may have stopped
wearing the punk clothes and dark emo make up but I still listen to the music
occasionally and can relate to those fully submerged in the scene.
It’s all about finding that balance. I’d
hate to look back at my life in 30 years time and regret not doing the things I
wanted to at the time. Because at the end of the day, whether it works or not,
everything gives you experience. You can be the grandmother sitting with her grandkids
saying something like, “Oh you don’t want to get that pierced…. Trust me.”
So, this is it and as the song goes, another year over. Everyone is feeling just enough of a pig and a fatty to do something about it after eating 5 dinners each day (all of which have some variant of the Christmas Day turkey) as well as just ashamed enough after the drunken New Year celebrations, and of course not forgetting the re-hashing of all of 2012 regrets, disasters and heartbreaks to think: no, never again. This year will be different.
Unlike most people who secretly wrote down their resolutions on sad pieces of papers and kept them hidden away so they didn't guilt themselves everyday for not following through with them - I publicly announced what I was (or was not, depends how you look at it) going to achieve this year. So, it's time to have a look at what I typed those many months ago & see if I actually did manage to stop eating so much cheese and control my urges and not be such a slut. Just kidding.
My Anti New Year's Resolutions or Things I Want To Avoid This Year: (2011 edition)
1. Do not get any fatter. Seriously. Enough is Enough.
(I sort of kept the same weight... I'm going to count this as a win)
2. Letting the The Listgrow. Please stop, you harlot.
(Yeah... that never happened)
3. That dirty pile of clothes that never goes away. Yeah, it's called laundry. Do some.
(I have conquered this - another win)
4. Sleeping in till the late afternoon. It's unnecessary.
(another win... sometimes)
5. Drinking that much. Don't be that girl.
(There has been the occasional slip up, but I'm getting better)
6. Your abhorrence to exercise. Learn to love.
(Learnt to hate it)
7. Being broke. Remember: Poor ain't pretty.
(I am starting to learn how to save - work in progress)
8. Singing 'All By Myself' Bridget Jones style into a hair brush because for one split second you hate the fact you're single & alone.
(I still do this)
9. Bad grades. Be a smart cookie.
(This hasn't happened ...yet...)
10. Unemployment. See number 7.
(Work in progress...)
11. Grumpy, moody & generally unpleasant.
(Coffee is the cure)
12. Not being able to save. See numbers 10 & 7.
13. Becoming fake.
(So far so good)
14. Being unable to drive. It's RIDICULOUS.
(My test is booked)
15. Homelessness. Get a flat.
(I live in a beautiful flat in central Glasgow)
16. Being too lazy to sort self maintenance out. THERE'S NO EXCUSE.
17. Being 4 years old and not eating any fruit or vegetables. In fact, I'm pretty sure a 4 year old has a better diet.
(I've learned to like some vegetables)
18. Giving up on the blog. Even if you only get 1.5 hits & it's you previewing the blog post.
(Haha! I'm here aren't I?)
19. Cheese. It's your Achilles heel.
(Still a weakness...)
20. Heartbreak. Live & learn my friend.
(Still learning my friend)
2013 is definitely going to have to be different...
You may be thinking by the blog title Marilyn Monroe, a subway grating and a white dress seductively, yet playfully billowing in the wind... if so, you'd be wrong. You'd also wrong if you think you're being smart by thinking this post has anything to do with a skin complaint known to soldiers in 18th century America.
Seven years seems like a long time for most things:
A long time to wait for a delivery.
A long time to wait for a pint.
A long time to wait to use the bathroom.
A long time in a queue.
A long time in a relationship?
Our generation seems to mostly be built on people falling in and out of relationships like they do university or college classes - we show up every once in a while, but really we're just in it for the final mark, and even then it's not a given that we'll pass with flying colours. While some of us just drop out all together.
No, not all of us are this way, some of us are happily matched and content with who we are with - those people I envy. I suppose I have the luxury of having tested the waters extensively - I have known complete singledom and likewise the utter contentment of being so comfortable with someone you're genitals have full names and are knighted. But as much as I think it is important for people to be alone, know what they want and understand the 'field' they are supposedly playing... I believe I am predisposition to love being in a relationship.
It's only natural for people (the stereotype is men) to scoff and get an immediate tightening of all orifices as soon as any form of commitment is mentioned, but I suppose when you find a person you can share your day with, not get sick of, are comfortable around but still want to rip their clothes off - you're going to want to hold on for dear life... aren't you?
Seven years is just the saying. People bail on marriages and relationships months, sometimes even days in. I know from personal experience that I am completely guilty of this. When I was younger I knew that the boy that lived next door liked me a lot, and one time we got drunk off of Bacardi Breezer's and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes in a state of drunken 13 year-old stupour. The next day - reaching for my Nokia 3310 in a haze only 4 Breezer's can give you, I realised my mistake when I saw all the messages from him. Not even playing 'Snake' could quell my fears or help the knots in my stomach subside: he had to go. So I did the only natural and completely cowardly thing to do.... I texted him it was over.
I guess now when I look at my relationships, with a few years under my belt and a bit more weight in my bra, I think why do guys, (why does anyone really) bail on relationships? Is it really just the fact they get The Itch? Or do they fear they are settling down too soon and just as they are about to, they'll miss the potential love of their life. There is a lot to be said about men being over whelmed by women and their expectations in a relationship. What started as a casual fling with no strings attached, suddenly winds up with boxes being moved in and space being made in drawers and wardrobes.
The Itch is something to be overcome as well. Much like moving abroad, relationships have the golden '3 Month Hump'. Everything before three months is absolutely amazing, things are new and you feel like you are really getting to know this person, potentially slowly falling in love with them (this can be applied to a country where everything is new, fantastic and the culture is unbelievable). Then the 3 Month Hump turns up - and suddenly you feel homesick for how things used to be and you either get out now, or ride it out. This is usually the time when people abroad suffer the most - it's not longer a holiday, it's real life and the reality is scary and often over whelming. What most people don't know is that if they stick around and ride it out, the relationship evolves and changes.
Itchy or otherwise and regardless of a 3 Month Hump, when you find a person that makes you laugh and you can't imagine anyone else being with them you'll hold on; because it's a hell of a lot better than being without them in your life.
Our deepest condolences for your recent loss, our records indicate this our second letter to you.
We just wanted to write to you to to ensure that at this time you are not planning to do any thing rash since the holidays are fast approaching we as societies with your well being in mind, just wanted to remind you not too get to drunk 'off-piste' this New Year. However, if the world does end on the 21st, we're sure you'll be glad of it ...although we thought we would just mention again we are here for you, should you need us.
Our records indicate you were able to completely 'get over' your last emotional drop kick to the heart, so we feel absolutely confident that you will without a doubt manage to bounce back with vengeance from this small bump in the road.
As mentioned earlier, we are always here for you. Happy holidays!
The Society In Support Of Those Likely To Become Emotional Wrecks This Christmas
The Foundation For Those Likely To Get Too Drunk This New Year
There is a disease, or more a virus that infects people every so often. You have to be healthy, strong and happy for it to strike; and when it does, it slaughters your immune system so you don't even know what you're own last name is - you start imagining it to be something else. You get light headed, nauseas and you feel as though if anything bad were to happen, the world would stop rotating and you would fly off into the galaxy, alone and desolated by sadness.
If you haven't figured it out, the infection I am talking about is love, or Love, as some romantics refer to it. It does tear asunder the healthiest of people, crippling us, until we come to realise we've been practicing our signature with last name of our significant other. We get tense when we think about seeing the one we love, so much so we get sweaty and feel like insects are flying around in our bowels. It's disturbing. The most disconcerting thing of all is that crippling fear or in tense panic/fear when we think about something horrible happening to the person we care about. It's like your brain disintegrates and is replaced by thought-vomit which slushes around our heads. We often have to physically shake our skulls or move our bodies to rid the thought process until it does any more permanent emotional and psychological damage.
When I was younger love was this concept modelled by your parents that you thought you had found. I can safely say I have only ever been in love once and even now I am wondering if I ever truly was. It's coming to a time in the relationship I am in now where I start to feel a little more. The giddy and constant, "Oh-my-gosh he is so unbelievable" time is slowly waning, but I am left with the good stuff. It's that time where I will have a look at this person doing the most mundane thing, and I will think to myself, "Christ, I really do care what happens to you." or I will listen to them talk and I will think, "God, you are just.. I lo-...." and I will stop myself because I know better than to trample loudly through a lush, unchartered land and scare away all the cute and fuzzy animals that are slowly beginning to show themselves to me. That was an analogy for not screwing things up.
I wonder if we do this often because of this infection that has taken over our bodies. We don't feel like ourselves, we feel better - enhanced almost. Isn't it always said that love is when you are looking for another half or it's an enhancement of what you already are. This completion that you are supposed to feel is mind blowing, and alters what you think about daily:
"I really like this, I wonder if ______ would like this to.. I better make a note of it."
"That picture is hilarious! I'm going to email it to ____, he/she'll love it."
So because of this altering in our mind set, we seem to edit ourselves, we don't want to let on just how much we care or how much feel for the other person. The ultimate culprit being that if it isn't reciprocated we may have to go and fling ourselves off of a very tall building or high bridge, in hopes we never open ourselves up emotionally again.
I think it's all about timing. Personally, the best laid plans and all that, but if you want to tell someone you love them, the most meaningful way isn't through a grand gesture (it's nice later on, but don't set the bar too high buddy), but in the moments when you watch this person tell you something completely boring, like how they got wet in the rain going to meet someone for coffee or they are telling you about a boring day at work they had, and you sit there and all you can do is say, "God, I love you." Because you can't help but love the way their lips move, or the way the words sound, or how they put their own personal touch on sentences or how funny they are.
That is when you know you should say 'I love you' the first time. Me? I am still emotionally editing, until I know for sure or something. The moral is: don't abuse it. No one likes the constant 'ILY' and infinite x's at the end of text messages whilst you're out getting milk, don't sully Love's good name, pal.