Trick Of The Mind

I think I must have watched too much Disney as a child. I wish I could blame the wildly romantic Princess Bride for my unrealistic view towards romance but I only discovered it a couple of years ago. I am viewing love and relationships with more and more cynicism these days due to the fact I can't seem to find the fairytale love story.

It's a bit pathetic really and only confirms how I still have a lot of mental maturing to do! Still, I am very aware that our brain chemicals merely play tricks on us, filling us with lust for particular people, making sure we get together in a whirlwind of excitement only for it to wear off a few months down the line. By that point you are settled into a mundane routine with your best friend. It seems the best option then to marry your best friend. You'll be sorted for life and won't get too depressed when the looks fade.

A lot of my peers have a similarly bleak view on romance. There isn't just one for us all, no dashing prince to take us away and change our lives. This whole idea is slowly sinking into my brain now and at my age I feel I am looking for a life partner rather than a bit of fun (I'm only mid twenties but society makes me feel I should be married by now or at least have one child). Oh the pressure, the pressure! I thought I was a very headstrong woman who didn't care what others thought...but deep down I care a lot.

Bloody Disney!

When I look through my window at work I see a sign for the Bereavement Suite...

Working in a hospital is one constant subconcious reminder about death.

I also get a visual reminder every day when I come into work and gaze through the metal bars on my window. Just to the right is a large white sign with only two words on it and an arrow pointing right.

Bereavement Suite.

No wonder I am like Wednesday Addams and Daria rolled into one most days. Apparently my situation could be turned into a creepy film noir. It would certainly be bleak.

I am slightly blank of mind today. Think I'm getting tired of waiting for Spring. England appears to have had a 6 month winter.

Why do people holiday here? I understand and appreciate the beauty but the climate, this freezing weather that appears to be getting worse, surely it puts you off?

Don't get me wrong, after spending years of my childhood yearning for an American life I love it here now. I guess after months of cold I'm getting a little irritated with it all.

Well I'm sure if you were having a bad day that this cheery blog made you feel loads better!

I'll be back with positivity and rainbows next time.
Maybe.

If I had said yes to Smash Hits all those years ago, would I be sat in a mansion with millions right now?

Ah the bittersweet joy of the those deadly two words...

"What If?"

It isn't often a film shifts my whole way of thinking but Butterfly Effect did just that. It grabbed my stomach and twisted it and suddenly I was filled with regret. Did I take all the wrong paths in life? Or am I in the place I am today because I made the right choices? Is this as good as it's going to get?

I was offered a Work Experience placement at Smash Hits when I was 15. I didn't take it, mainly because I had no clue how I would go down there and live for a week. Looking back though, that week could have changed my whole life. On the other hand I may have made tea for 5 days and come home disillusioned with the whole idea of being a music journalist. The not knowing is enough to drive me crazy.

I'm a musician who works in part time admin so I can afford my rent, food etc. I still live in the same small town I was born in and have never properly left. Did I subconciously sabotage my own chances of getting out of here? Am I delving into some deeper subjects here and starting a therapy session with myself?!

If you had the power to change your past, would you?

Butterfly Effect brought me to the conclusion that I wouldn't. Things could end up far far worse than they are now but I cannot help but drift off sometimes and think "What If....?"

Why So Serious?

Hmm, that last post was a little negative!

Thankfully I added the Charlie The Unicorn link to lighten the mood. On the other hand, I don't think I have readers so I'm worrying about nothing!

I had another "What am I doing with my life?" moment over the weekend. Possibly whilst I was hugging the toilet bowl. I don't get them that often but they are usually tragically amusing. The last significant "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?!" moment was a few years ago when I worked as event security. Yes, me. Event security. Me, tiny. Even security. Ridiculous! I was like a baby penguin fighting against rhinos half the time. Anyway, it was a fantastic job. I met the stars, worked backstage, felt part of the 'bubble'. I was on the way, my first step on the ladder!

All these dreams soon came crashing down when after a run of working with bands, I was assigned the job of counting how many drunk men stumbled into a party at the venue. For 8 hours. I realised I hadn't made it. That I was in my early twenties and still had no idea what I was doing or where I was going and that only I, out of all the people I knew, would end up in such a weird place. This job wasn't going to get me anywhere.

Again, after lots of partying and believing I've been having fun for the past few months, I'm not sure I have been.

Time to make some changes.

Its far too early to be on the Internet

I'm back, again. Being ill is rubbish. This sounds terrible but a lot of the time I crave getting a minor illness so that I can chillout for a few days and not have to go to work. Then when I actually get ill I can't handle it because I get too emotional from not eating properly. So on day 3 of the stomach bug I just feel incredibly miserable and useless because all I have done is sit at this computer and feel sorry for myself. Whenever I get ill I always feel as if I wll never get better, that this will be my life till the end of my days and nothing will be good again. It's 9.07 am and I'm blogging. Help.

All this thinking time is bad also. The same thoughts keep cropping up (sort your life out, move back home so you can save money and buy a car, live a healthier lifestyle, stop going clubbing so much etc etc). Is February generally just a bad, miserable month for everybody? Please somebody give me some reassurance for I am sick and tired.

I am going to try and add a youtube video now. It cheered me up yesterday. I am probably way behind the cool kids on this one but I wanted to share anyway.

Bah! I can't seem to get the whole embedding code, so here's a link!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5im0Ssyyus

Wow, I'm worse technically than I thought!

I can pretty much assure you, oh great void, that I will be blogging again later.

Hopefully in a better mood!

Love Doesn't Conquer All!!

Hello there,

I hope I am actually speaking to somebody out there, even if it is just one person. If so, Hello :)

I didn't think that I would mention Valentines again for another year but the one that just passed was far too memorable not to mention!

I started the night well with champagne and strawberries. I wore my favourite dress, emerald green and fitted at the waist. My hair was tied back and my make up done to perfection. I didn't have a Valentine but I was going to look good!

So off I went, tottering in my black wedges towards the 50s night at my local. It was packed full of people in fantastic 50s fancy dress and I mometarily regretted not making more of an effort. Fancy dress was, afterall, one of my favourite things. I am however, more into dressing as Zombies or Corpse brides! In an effort to stay off the dreaded sambucca shots I opted for a half a cider and was slightly alarmed when each sip made me queasy "Must be because I'm not used to it" I thought. I had a little dance to the house band, fluttered about the pub seeing various friends from different groups who don't really mix then left for my next destination.

The club I regularly go to is a bit of a dive and for this particular clubnight you need to be drunk. Hammered in fact. I was stone cold sober due to the inability to drink. I, the boozehound, couldn't drink! What was happening?! I had decided something was wrong when the second cider made me want to run to the nearest toilet but still I prevailed, it was Valentines night afterall! I arrived, said my 'Hellos' and met a male friend at the bar. He started to play the over protective father and telling me the new boys I was hanging out with were no good. An ex friend was sat in the corner making me feel bad and the nausea had got worse. I went outside hoping for some kind of relief, instead my mood had gone from sad to agitated and I knew I had to leave. This wasn't just nausea, I was going to be sick!

So I ran for the nearest taxi, ignoring the boy who was trying to tell me something important and possibly asking me out. My 'out of his head on beer' friend got in the taxi also, so drunk was he I had to shut the taxi door for him. We finally arrived at mine after what seemed to be the longest journey ever, I didn't think I would last without spoiling the poor guys car if you get what I mean.

The final staw came when my friend took forever to find his change, I had to run out of the taxi leaving them both wih the lovely words "I have to go now, I'm going to be sick!".

I'll spare you the rest of the details. St Valentine sure does have a funny sense of humour. He didn't shoot his arrow in my heart this year but appeared to miss and strike my stomach instead. I spent the rest of the evening and following day nursing a stomach bug.

My Bloody Valentine

Happy Love Day!

I could barely open my front door today because of the masses of red envelopes blocking the way out. This is a joke of course. To be honest, I don't have a problem with this day. If I was part of a couple I would gladly buy my other half silly little presents and be super nice to them. The thing that most annoys me (and by most annoys me I mean slightly irritates) are the couples who say it is a load of rubbish and aren't going to do anything for each other.

It is currently 13.24, I haven't left the house and I cannot see any red envelopes or plastic roses. I'll keep you updated. Actually, before I go off the Valentines subject altogether, let me tell you a heartwarming story about me, a boy and a plastic rose...

I was in my local pub last week with friends downing shots of sambucca whilst trying to be ladylike. A woman walks in selling roses for charity. One of my male friends asks if I would like a rose "yesh!" I slur. He smiles and asks the flower lady "How much are they?". She replied, deadpan, "£3.50". My friend scrunches up his face, thinks for a second and says "Erm, nah, I'll pass then".

And they say romance isn't dead. Pah!