we're getting there!

The wind down has begun. People are more relaxed at work; morning traffic has practically disappeared now that schools and colleges have broken up and tiredness has well and truly sunk in. The dark nights, last minute shopping, present wrapping and copious amounts of partying have taken its toll and with only two more days of work before my Christmas break, I am starting to look and feel ever so slightly haggard and in need of a well deserved break.

I do love this time of year, but it brings with it so much stress and illness. Everywhere I turn I hear a chorus of coughs and sneezes echoing around me. Even going to the shop on my lunch break for nothing more than a sandwich is more hassle than it’s worth because you can’t even make it into the car park for all the people stocking up on food. The silly thing is, shops are only closed for one day so it’s not like we need to buy as though it’s the end of the world, but then who am I to judge another person’s Christmas? I’m going for the easy option and eating out so I don’t have to worry about buying or preparing because someone else is doing that for me. I’m relishing ever so slightly in the idea that despite repetitive conversations at work about the best time to go food shopping or how to cook a turkey and decorate the table, the only thing I need to worry about is getting to my nail appointment at 11am on Christmas Eve and making sure my suitcase is packed for my holiday three days later.

I couldn’t be more ready for it though. I am looking forward to taking time out to relax in the sunshine with my family, enjoy some lazy days and reflect on what has been a very busy year with many ups and downs. I am that desperate for the break I am practically clawing my way through each day just so I can get there. Of course it will arrive and pass, and before I know it I’ll be back in the rat race wondering whether I had a holiday at all! Before I wish that on myself, I am going to make sure I treasure the next couple of weeks and return in the New Year focused and ready for new challenges that await me. For now though, pass me a Vodka and diet coke and let’s get ready to open some presents!

I believe in a thing called love

“Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now.” Henry Rollins

Imagine somewhere in the world this is really happening? Imagine the person you are searching for is actually doing this right now. That somewhere out there, someone you don’t know is thinking of you, wondering where you are and when you will meet. That person might be sitting in the house next door to you but you just haven’t noticed one another yet. Or they could be in the next town, city or even country. That one person who is destined to be yours, patiently waiting for you to walk into their life and completely turn it upside down and make it the life they have been dreaming about for so long.

Some have already found that person. They are the lucky ones. They know that someone is always thinking of them. They are the first person in their minds when they wake up and the last they see before they close their eyes at night. How warm that must feel.

For those still searching, don’t give up because the moment you do will be the moment you stop believing that love exists and without love, there is nothing. Life can be mysterious, we never know what is going to happen despite the plans we make and the road we travel. That person is out there waiting. I know, because I believe.

A change, will do me good

With the New Year fast approaching, I find myself thinking of what my resolutions will be for 2012. Despite the usual promises I make (eat healthier, do more exercise and stop drinking for a month) this time I need more. I want something exciting, challenging and different that I’ve never done before. I’m not talking crazy things like jumping out of an aeroplane but something I can get my teeth into and get rewarded for. It’s obvious I need a change because I’ve been stuck in a rut for a long time and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by people around me so I need to do something, if not for my sanity, then for theirs!

I’m really struggling as to where to start though. I’ve searched in vain on Google in the hope I will find the inspiration I need, but nothing! It’s difficult because I have never been that person who knows what they want to be when they grow up and as a result I have drifted my way through life rather than create the one I want. Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t been disappointing. Infact, I’m very happy with what I have unexpectedly achieved over the last 31 years, but now it’s time for me to find what it is I am good at, work on it and be successful as a result. I have had some ideas from close friends and family, but I’m not business minded. I don’t have the skills or experience to put something together. Perhaps I need to draw up a business proposal and pitch it to the Dragon’s Den. Then again, maybe not!

My holiday to Cape Town in a couple of weeks might be the ideal opportunity to stop me procrastinating and actually do something about it. Maybe two weeks in the sun with a chance to switch off and relax will be what it takes to get the ball rolling allowing me to move into the New Year with a new idea and new focus. Whatever happens, I know 2012 will be a year of change for me, I just hope it will be a good change.

Watch this space…

These boots are made for walking

This year saw me face the biggest challenge I have ever set myself. I walked 26.2 miles during the night to raise money for Cancer Research, and despite the 10 hours it took me to complete, I did it. I have never been a natural athlete and was always the last to be chosen for teams in PE and even to this day, I don’t really enjoy exercise, but I know it’s something I need to do to help me lose weight and stay healthy.

On a good week, I’ll go to the gym 3 or 4 times and my routine will consist of spinning, body combat, cardio and weight training with the occasional swim. I’ve tried the alternative route with Yoga and Pilates, but realised very quickly I have no balance and if this were something to consider full time, I would need to enrol in a beginners class rather than try and compete with the regulars who have obviously been doing it for years. One class I do enjoy is Zumba, but even that has lost its appeal lately. Perhaps it the time of year, or perhaps I’m just using that as an excuse!

Walking however is something I’ve always enjoyed. I used to walk to and from school everyday unitl I had to get the bus because of the distance, so instead I walked in the evenings. I had my routine and as long as I had music to listen to, I was happy. Even when I ventured into full time work, I went by foot. I remember the day I got the 1 hour hike down to 40 minutes and the feeling of satisfaction I had for achieving that goal was incredible.

Why I never looked into joining a ramblers club I don’t know, but after completing Race for Life in July, I found myself searching for a new challenge but nothing stood out. That was until I happened to check my email junk folder one evening (something I never do) and stumbled across one from Cancer Research promoting their “Shine” London Marathon walk. I didn’t hesitate to sign up because I was immediately drawn to it, but my only reservation was deciding whether to do the half or full marathon but I took the plunge and signed up to do the big one. Before I knew it I was committing myself to a 12 week intensive training programme which saw me build up from 2-3 miles a day to more intensive walks 5 times a week. Sunday’s were the hardest because I would embark on 10, 12, 14 and 16 miles and the pain my feet were in afterwards was enough to not want me to walk again, but my mind was strong and I carried on.

The day of the event arrived and I was feeling quite apprehensive but also excited. I had my camelbak ready to keep me hydrated and along with 10,000 other people including my aunty and cousin, we began. The first few miles took longer than anticipated and I wasn’t achieving my target 15 minute mile, purely because of the number of people in front of us. We gradually started to overtake though and picked up pace which soon got my adrenalin pumping. 

The first pit stop was easy because it was only 3 miles in, but the water and energy bars given to us came in handy. That and the enormous amount of support shown from passers by and Saturday night party goers spurred me on. I have never felt so much relief seeing the mile 13 mark before, but all that was going through my head was knowing we still had another 13 to go. By now, I was beginning to feel lethargic and a little stressed because I wanted to stop. We had lost the passers by and I had lost my enthusiasm, so by mile 17 I was ready to stop. In fact I thought I was going to have to pull out because I started getting dizzy spells and felt sick. I had no choice but to sit down. I knew my feet would burn the moment I did, but it was either that or get taken back in an ambulance. The latter was not an option, so after a lot of deep breathing and more water, I was just about ready to continue. Standing up at that point was excruciating and any pace I had left in me was gone so I found myself hobbling for a few miles before getting back on track.

Soon enough we were into the last 5 miles and it dawned on me how quiet London was despite the amount of people around me, but I realised it was because we all felt the same – exhausted. There was a strange eerie feeling surrounding us, almost like we were Zombies walking through the City. When we realised we were on the last mile, relief began to pour down my cheeks. I was desperately looking for the finish line but it seemed to take so long to reach. When I got there, I cannot tell you how thankful I was. People were cheering us, taking photos and we were given a medal to acknowledge the achievement, but it was all a blur. I needed to lie down and sleep, and it wasn’t long before I was doing that in the back of the car going home.

“Never again” is what I said to myself when I finished that walk, especially as I couldn’t function properly for a couple of days, but thankfully the training I did prior to the event meant my recovery was quick. It’s now two months later and despite the pain I endured, am considering doing it again next year. I have  already registered my interest but whether I do it remains to be seen. Either way this has without a doubt been an eye opening experience. There were some extraordinary people taking part that night, some who had lost friends and relatives to cancer, and some who were suffering or recovering from the disease and that is what kept me going. On reflection, I have learnt I am a lot stronger physically and mentally than I thought and despite telling myself I will never be good at sports, I know now I am. I may not be able to catch a tennis ball or jump over hurdles without falling on my bum, but I can walk a marathon and that is something I will always be proud of.
 

Holidays are coming!

Despite my recent pessimistic approach to the Christmas season, I appear to have made my way to the end of that tunnel and the twinges we all get in our stomach when we are excited have started to make an appearance in mine.

The smell of freshly baked mince pies lingering, and the infamous Coca Cola advert now being shown regularly on the television are contributing to the anticipation of knowing the big man in the red and white suit is preparing to hit the skies to deliver our presents. I even started my Christmas shopping this weekend and regardless of the crowds, I wasn’t phased. A leisurely walk into town and a few purchased gifts later I decided to treat myself to a new dress to wear over the merry season too…well it’s what Santa would have wanted!

Over the next couple of weeks, we will see houses transformed into festive grottos, carols will be heard and hopefully snowmen will be built. Regardless of the cold weather and long dark nights, you can’t beat curling up on the sofa with loved ones watching Miracle on 34th Street and Home Alone whilst enjoying a festive tipple.

I do, however, have more than just presents to look forward to because I am flying to Cape Town to spend New Year with my Dad. Perhaps my enthusiasm now makes me appear a little smug because I will be celebrating Christmas the traditional way and New Year on the beach, but someone has to do it!

As the excitement continues and the last minute panic sets in, I will be putting my feet up, enjoying a large glass of Rose relishing in the knowledge that I have two whole weeks of relaxation and family time to enjoy, and that my friend, is what it’s all about.

Merry Christmas!

Remember, Remember, it's all in Movember

“Movember” sees men across the UK and around the world unite for the whole of November in a bid to grow their Moustaches to raise awareness of men’s health, in particular prostate cancer. With this challenge fast approaching its end, I feel it is my duty to acknowledge the effort of my fellow friends, colleagues and other Mo Bros taking part in such a worthwhile cause.

While I would usually favour the rugged look over any distinctive facial hair or for the unfortunate ones, “bum fluff”, I have found it quite hilarious to see the effort that has gone into creating their designer Mo’s. From the Tom Selleck classic to those resembling Charlie Chaplin, I have seen quite a variety on display. My favourite has to be the mutton chops adjoining to an impressive pair of handle bars….now that is something to be proud of!

Of course, it’s not just about the boys because girls can get in on the act also. I don’t mean growing your own tash, because let’s face it ladies, the idea of walking around with any sign of unwanted facial hair screams disaster. To show loyalty to our men we can register to be a “Mo sista” and help contribute towards their fundraising efforts.

Although there is only a few days left to get involved, we mustn’t detract from what is really happening. 1 in 9 men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer in their lifetime[1] and while we are enjoying the banter that goes with this event, we must take note of the message surrounding it. Ensuring we stay fit and healthy is important for our overall happiness and wellbeing so learning these facts, understanding how to look out for any changes, and knowing what to do if we have any concerns is vital in getting the message of Movember across. With that in mind gentlemen, I salute you. Be proud of your Mo’s because your sista’s are proud of you!

[1] Fact taken as of 23/11/2011 from www.uk.movember.com

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The Lady in Red

Fashion has never been my strongest forte probably because I’m not the skinniest of girls. In fact, I’m very curvy. I have it all. The big boobs, the big bum, the big thighs, even my stomach isn’t exactly washboard. I have to admit, I’ve struggled with the way I look for years. It’s also probably down to having a weight issue all my life too. My mum’s side of the family are extremely thin framed, whereas my Dad’s side are fuller figured and the latter is where I fit in. I’ve lost weight, I’ve gained it. I’ve tried every diet going and probably joined every slimming club available in my town, but for some reason, I can never succeed with getting to a weight where I am happy, and until I do, I’m not sure I will ever be completely content with the way I look. People do compliment me, but for some reason, I don’t ever believe them. I always feel like they have to say it out of politeness. Where this stems from I don’t know, and I have considered seeking professional help to find out, and maybe I will in the future, but something quite extraordinary happened to me at the weekend which I feel I need to share.

I have been having a bad few months for various reasons and as a result, I have been left feeling quite down about myself. I decided to go to my local shopping centre one lunch time in search of a dress I had seen online but found myself buying two other items of clothing instead, one of which was a bright red laced shift dress. I didn’t try either of them on, mainly because it depresses me when I really like something only to find I look hideous in it, so I headed to the till and purchased them both before I had a chance to realise what I was doing. Before I knew it was I back at work forgetting about the impulsive buys I had just made.

Later that evening I got home and tried on the red dress and my initial thought was “I’ll take it back tomorrow”, but I then found myself walking into the lounge and asking my housemate what she thought and her reaction was lovely. A cheeky wolf whistle and a “sexy lady” remark made me feel quite good. She told me I should definitely keep it as did her friends who turned up at the same time as my fashion show began. Walking back to my bedroom to get changed, I felt a strange feeling of satisfaction over me. I looked in my full length mirror again and thought that maybe it didn’t look so bad after all. I even sent a photo of it to my sister to see what she thought and her immediate reaction was how lovely the colour was. I decided then I would keep the dress.

Saturday night arrived and we were getting ready to go to town. Hair was straightened, makeup was done (including bright red lippy), tights were on despite a minor mishap with buying the wrong denier that was quickly resolved thanks to my sister’s spare pair, and the dress was on with my black heels. I looked in the mirror again and for the first time in a long time, I felt good. No actually, I felt confident. I took a sip of my vodka and diet coke, grabbed my bag and was met with more wolf whistles and “sexy” remarks from my friends who were waiting for me.

When we arrived at the arranged cocktail bar to meet with more people, everyone commented on how good I looked and how much red suits me. I walked to the bar making eye contact with a few fit men I spotted on the way and bought myself a drink. As the night continued, I found I was getting a lot of compliments and a lot of men talking to me, something I would disregard and shy away from on previous nights out. I had one guy dance and serenade “The Lady in Red” to me and another even told me I looked “amazing”, which never happens to me. It was lovely, and I felt so special.

It’s been three days since that night out, and I am still getting text messages and comments from the photos posted onto my Facebook page about how beautiful I looked, and I have to say, it feels really good. I don’t know what happened to me that night, but there was obviously something about that red dress and lipstick that made me stand out, but also made me feel good about myself. I still have the big boobs, the big bum, the large thighs and the stomach, but none of that mattered to me for the first time in a long time. Red is obviously what has been missing in my life, and I can tell you now, I am going make sure it doesn’t disappear anytime soon.

Sunshine on a rainy day

Now that winter is fast approaching and the dark evenings are drawing in, I have found myself in a terrible habit of getting home from work, putting on my comfy joggers and chilling in front of the TV all night. Infact, the more I do this, the more miserable I have become, so have decided to free myself from the house arrest I have put myself under before it’s too late.

I have enlisted the help of my friends and made a pact to meet up at least once a week whether it’s at the cinema, a restaurant or even a few drinks in town. Thankfully, they are feeling the same way as I am so we are all determined to go out more and have fun! Along with this, I have also renewed my gym membership and hope the regular exercise will pull me out of the sluggish misery taking over my mind and body.

The leaves may be falling off the trees and Jack Frost may be on his way, but that doesn’t mean I need to lose my sparkle because I have nothing to be miserable about. I have moved into a great home with new friends, I now have a little nephew to spoil, I’m going to South Africa in six weeks and the Christmas party season is near, so why should I be sitting in front of the TV wishing my life was better, when I should be grateful for what I already have.

Sometimes a good reality check is what you need, and that has happened to me tonight. There’s going to be no more sadness. It’s all about being happy and confident because what goes around comes around, and if I carry on in this state, I dread to think what’s coming my way. The tables are turning so watch this space!

So Cold

As I reach for the kettle and pour the hot water into my mug, my head pounding and my eyes feeling like they have 10 tonne weights on them, I can feel the tears welling up. My head is burning and my sinuses hurt from the pressure on them. I feel so weak and all I want is to go to sleep. I wish I could open my face and empty it of the crap that’s making me feel this way. I stir the sugar into my tea, top up my hot water bottle, pull the fallen blanket back over my shoulders and saunter back into the lounge and slump onto the sofa. I can’t wait for my headache to disappear. I feel like I have an army of policemen patrolling around in my head. Thud. Thud. Thud. I just want it to stop.

I switch on the TV but can’t focus. It’s too loud. My body is shivering, my nose is running and I can’t decide whether I need to turn the thermostat up or turn the heating off. I curl up into a ball and cuddle my hot mug with my hands. The tears are falling now, there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Not even Friends can help me out of this one. I turn off the tele, put my mug on the table and lie on the sofa clutching my hot water bottle. I close my eyes but the dizziness is distracting me from actually sleeping and I find myself thinking about all the things I need to do: sort out my gym membership, finish my job application, do my washing, pay my rent. I feel trapped inside a hypnotist swirl powerless to do anything about it.

My eyes suddenly open and I dart up into a sitting position. My face and neck are sweating and my heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I was about to drown in quicksand. Please tell me I was dreaming? I compose myself before turning the television back on. It doesn’t seem so loud anymore; maybe the pain killers are working. I still feel weak and my stomach is rumbling but the thought of eating makes me feel sick. I finish my now lukewarm tea which tastes awful, but I don’t have the energy to make another cup so it will have to do. I sit there staring, not really taking in the programme that’s now on. I feel a mess and no doubt look it. I really hope this doesn’t last for long because I’m not sure I can take it any more. I just want to feel normal again…..please?

Beep beep, beep beep, yeah?

With the ever increasing rise in car insurance I have started contemplating whether to give up my reliable motor in favour for public transport. Despite being 31 years old, I only passed my test in my 20’s because I have never had that desire to own my own set of wheels, and although a car brings a lot of independence, it also brings a lot of hassle.

My first was a Blue Vauxhall Nova called George. He was a cheeky chappy and I have some fond memories of us driving around town with the windows down singing at the top of my voice to the songs on the radio. Every now and then, I would introduce him to one of my many classic tape cassettes, as being an older model he wasn’t up to date with the modern technology of other cars. That didn’t faze me though because who needs central locking, an iPod docking station and air con? As long as I used my steering lock every day, I felt happy knowing he was safe. It was a sad day when I got a knock on the door one Saturday night from the police to inform me George had been stolen and was found burnt out two streets away from my house.

It took me a long time to get over that.

Despite my mourning, I knew I had to move on. Relying on public transport was draining me of all hope that not having a car wasn’t a bad thing. I was already friends with Clarissa because she was my sister’s car and when she had the opportunity to go to South Africa, I saw my chance also. Clarissa was a cute silver Corsa, and always liked it when I hung flowered air fresheners from her mirror. A typical girl who loved accessories and perfume so I would always ensure she looked glam and smelt good, especially as she used to flirt a lot with the blue Mini Cooper Convertible parked in our road.

My relationship with Clarissa blossomed over discussions about Westlife and Take That. She used to love it when I played “Flying without wings” really loud, but for some reason, always made me change it to something more upbeat and “cool” whenever we stopped at traffic lights. To this day, I still don’t know why she did that.

My heart was broken yet again when I awoke to find someone had broken in and tried to rob her of the steering wheel. She must have put up quite a fight because the person responsible gave up and just left her sitting there with broken pieces of plastic all over the drivers mat and wires hanging from her once perfect frame. According to the police, it’s a frequent crime with Corsa’s. Infact I remember the same thing happened to a guy I was seeing around about the same time…but I won’t go into that.

I have been with my current car for 5 years now. We’ve had our ups and downs like most relationships, but touch wood nothing bad has happened to him except for a broken heater, dodgy lock and only one speaker working. Perhaps it’s the reliability of the Ford KA that does it. Maybe the youths of the day don’t see them to be anything more than throwing crisps over or stealing hub caps from. We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve laughed, cried and sang songs…I’ve even treated him to a car wash or two.  The only downside to Ury is his annoying ability to break things. There seems to be a constant need to change light bulbs and windscreen wiper blades, not to mention the amount of money I have spent buying mirror adhesive pads.

As George and Clarissa are now relishing their new life in car heaven, and with my insurance renewal fast approaching, I find myself back at my initial thought of whether to end my loyal relationship with Ury and start using the bus, but in retrospect, I don’t think I could do it. Despite the money draining vehicle he is, I have to remind myself getting the bus will mean having to travel with the public, and you haven’t seen the types of people who ride our busses. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. I do love Ury, and we have many adventures together, so why give that up to stand out in the cold waiting for a bus, which lets face it, will probably never turn up anyway?

Lazy Saturday

Today I am doing nothing! Infact, I am typing this sprawled out on the sofa whilst my housemate is watching some American detective programme on FX. Not really sure what it is but it looks a little bit depressing and I’m not in the mood for that kind of viewing today. It’s all about chilling after spending the morning catching up with my best friend, Amy. I haven’t had a day like this for so long and I’m feeling quite content about keeping it this way.

I have been in my new house now for three weeks and the anxiety and upheaval of moving, changing addresses and settling in has finally calmed down, which feels good. I was a walking stress bomb for so long and I finally feel like I can breathe again rather than wanting to burst into tears every five minutes! My family have been fantastic, and I dread to think what I would have been like without them, but it’s a relief to know I’m out of that situation and can get back to normality.

So as I continue my afternoon of nothingness, I am looking forward to cooking a nice meal tonight and watching X Factor, reading some trashy magazines, maybe watch a movie and even fit in a quick cat nap too. Couldn’t ask for any better than that, unless of course Brad Pitt or Gerard Butler were to knock on my door…..now that would certainly change things!

Still too early?

It’s that time of the year again, isn’t it? You know what I mean. That time when a nice afternoon trip into town involves fighting amongst the crowds of people scrambling around as they begin their preparations for the big day. You can’t go anywhere without seeing family tins of chocolate on offer, or the novalty socks and ties that Dad’s think are hilarious to wear to work, all displayed so proudly just waiting to be bought. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t usually sound this pessamistic, but really, let’s enjoy halloween and bon fire night before we jump on board Santa’s sleigh and “ho ho ho” our way towards the end of the year.

I probably didn’t do myself any favours as my doomed visit at the weekend was tainted by the effects of the four bottles of fish polluted wine I drank the night before which, on reflection, were clouding my overall mind, body and soul function that day. Even my attempt to make chocolate caramel cornflake cakes resulted in a melted plastic bowl and a kitchen floor covered in crushed cereal. That was a great one to explain to the new housemates! I did stop to watch a group of dancers dressed as zombies reinacting Michael Jackson’s Thriller though, but that was probably because I felt more at home amongst their dark eyes, crazy hair and fuzzy head movements than anything else.

I’m sure some time over the next nine weeks I’ll get caught up and swept along with the rush and excitement, but for now when I go shopping again, I really would appreciate it if people would just get out of my way!

Fish in Wine

Last night I was enjoying a relaxing night out with my new house mates and some friends at our local discussing everything and anything over our third bottle of rose, when someone decided to announce that wine contains traces of fish. This didn't go down too well with me especially as I was sipping the drink while she said it. Now, maybe I'm being a little bit ignorant, but isn't wine made of grapes? The thought of swallowing a fish bone and being rushed to A&E on a Friday night isn't my idea of a good time, so after carefully checking the glass (and bottle) for traces of the scaley creatures, I read the labelling and there was nothing to indicate that this product contained fish. To my relief I reassured my friends and happily carried on drinking. However, the conversation didn't end there. "It's true, it contains fish bladders".  At this point, there wasn't a dry person around the table thanks to the projectile wine pertruding from my mouth. I couldn't take it anymore so out came my phone and I was straight onto Google asking "does wine contain fish?" and there it was in black and white....yes! To my dismay, I continued to read how there is a protein in fish bladders used to improve the clarity of wine by removing unwanted compounds. I was relieved to learn these fish products do get removed in the overall filtering process, but like all food and drink, it is never fully possible that all are removed, hence the reason why some bottles do show the warning. With this cleared up, there was only one thing left to do. I shuddered as I looked at the empty bottle sitting infront of me, and like a piece of bait luring me in, I picked up my purse, walked to the bar...and bought another bottle!