maybe things are not always meant to be....

I have a plan for this weekend, it's quite sophisticated, it involves getting very drunk and lounging around! I've decided I am tired of being a responsible grown up. Being a responsible grown up means never getting to do what you want, having to be diplomatic at all times, and not being able to throw the towel in when it all becomes too much.
Also in my case being a grown up has meant stress, the inability to relax, or not to worry about other peoples happiness constantly and putting it above my own at all times.
I don't remember being quite so pessimistic as a child, in fact I know I wasn't. I wonder how many people have mourned their childhood, I have. Don't get me wrong, life's not all bad, just sometimes feels very hard work, without a break to recoup and regain strength, some things about being a grown up are fabulous. Like living in my own home, with a boy, being able to get pissed (which I still do to spectacular effect, sorry Rachel and Tim for the last episode) driving, earning money even if my job is so dull it makes me want to remove my eye balls by jabbing pens into them. But when I was a kid I don't remember wanting all these things, so maybe that is the reason they don't seem so sweet, who knows. All I know is it's time to let go a little, I would like to relax, someone said to me this week that their husband can never relax, that if they are going out somewhere he can't understand the point of going for a drink at a friends place first, he just wants to get to the going out part, and sometimes my life feels like that, always waiting for something else to come along, like today, when I woke up I was waiting to get to work, then I am constantly on the count down to lunch, then after lunch the count down to home time etc etc, it's like I am waiting my life away!
I know what I want to do with my life, I want to write, it is the only thing I have ever been good at, I want books with my name on, I want people jetting off on holiday to be consider a paperback in the airport book shop that has my name on it.
Unfortunately writing does not pay well, or at all, and so far no-one has been willing to give me a go at it for money, so life fuels my pessimism, which is so much sadder still, like a hamster in a wheel, around and around we go, where will it stop, no-one knows, but hopefully somewhere lushes and green, with that bloke I am going to marry, relaxing in the long grass waiting for me and a book deal at the end of the rainbow.

Things that make me go hmmmmm with contentment...

Continuing the Friday theme........ here is a list of some of the things that make me go hmmmmm with contentment:

• Matt
• My cat Susie
  
• Lasagne
• Winter
• Slipper socks
• Family
• True friends
• Old friends
• Christmas
• My old dog Rosie
• Our little house
• My bed
• Johnny Depp
• Pick & mix sweets
• Classical music
• My flute
• My favourite books
• A photo of my parents and me about 2 hours old
• Earl Gray
• Fields and countryside as far as the eye can see
• Films with a heart warming tale (like Love Actually)

I am sure there are many more but for now that will do.....Happy Friday my following friends! x

Things that baffle me.....

Here is a list of things that baffle me:

*Bananas
*Snotty cows (literally cows, that have snot all over their big horrible noses)
*Waffers
*Boris Johnson
*Jingle door bells
*benches by main roads
*Kids sitting on roundabouts
*Men and cars (?)
*Cobbled streets
*Big bags of crisps containing the same amount as the small bags
*Raisans
*Sultana's
*People who wear their slippers outside of their house
*Dogs in coats (they have fur)
*The amount of pedestrain crossings in Nottingham city centre
*Open sandwiches (it's not a sandwich then is it)
*People (all of them)

I am sure there are like a billion more but that's a pretty good start for a Friday! Bonn Weekend mon followers!

Dare to dream....

For those of you who don't know (or those of you actually reading this lol) it has always been my ambition to be a writer, at first this was all to do with wanting to write stories about things that inspired me and I hoped others, now adays I have learnt that the things that inspire me go beyond the realms of my imagination and it has been my dream for some time now to become a journalist. Ideally in a little town or village, somewhere with a strong community and where the local paper plays an integral part in the daily lives of the inhabitants!
Over the past months I have been working full time and studying to complete the intial journalism training, and for those of you who have studied from home let me just take a moment to say CONGRATULATIONS!! Becuase it is bloody hard work, there are so many distractions and other things that you want or feel you should be doing and it is incredibly difficult to focus. So in order to get my head down and my revision done I am currently doing nothing but revising, I am learning about central and local government as well as media law and newspaper writing, and it is so incredibly difficult, more than I could have imagined. But I do keep thinking, that the things in life you really want shouldn't be too easy to obtain, and trust me this has been far from easy. There have been tears and tantrums a plently and now as the exam dates are looming I am desperate to pass them first time! My short hand is another matter and I plan to start a college course in January to get to grips with it (although this will cost me almost as much as the entire journalism course did) but teaching myself has been next to impossible.
During this time I have of course been applying for journalism jobs (as well as using my holiday to complete work experience at local papers, of which I have loved and it has killed me each time Friday has come around and I have had to leave that wonderful world behind) The last position I applied for was as a features writer for a local paper, I love writing features and I am good at it, even if I do so say myself, I love finding the personal angle and getting someones inner story across. But it is far from the ideal time to be trying to join the world of journalism. Over 100 people applied for the features job I went for and safe to say I did not stand a chance. Junior positions are also a rarety, with more papers making redundancies in the current climate, than hiring in new blood, but today I spotted one. It's local, it's perfect, but I am terrified and I haven't even applied yet! I need to show the editor not only that I could do this job but that I could do it well....better than well and better than anyone else applying (and there will be a lot). I know that I would love every second, not waste a moment and stay as long as they would have me! So how do I do it? Well I am not a religous person but I am going to start by praying, by writing the best damn application letter possible and sending samples from my portfolio in a hope that something he sees there will wow him, that he will see the determination in me that I feel in my heart, and that I may finally be given the opportunity to prove that I can do what I love......and write!

I'm back

I have decided I am going to blog more often, why? Well it certainly isn't because my millions of adoring fans have demanded it (although thanks to those of you still soaking up my thoughts of non wisdom)! It is because I need to keep up my writing, with no formal output and the book on the back burner until after my exams (16-19th Nov ahhhh) I need to keep up with some sort of writing or I may forget how to do it altogether!!
The past couple of weeks have been pretty interesting and by interesting I mean dull as dish water! All I am doing is saving money and revising, neither of which are going exactly to plan! So basically I am sitting in doing sod all or sitting at work doing sod all! That's a bit of a lie, work is busy(ish) unfortunately it is not exactly fulfilling and I am finding myself dreaming of better things, I am not sure what those things are givent the current climate, I hardly picked the best time to make my break into journalism! It has also got me thinking about living somewhere else, not without Matt of course, that would be like trying to leave a limb behind (or three) he does after all keep me sane, fed and a roof over my head, without him I am fairly certain I would be living in a box somewhere selling short stories for KitKats! But anyway I digress....I have been thinking about London (again) the City I once vowed never to return to, but I have been a few times now, I have learnt the basics of getting around (often alone I may add)! And I quite like our capital, I mean yes it's big, full of people and rubbish and rubbish people, but that's also its charm right? You can get lost amongst all thos people and in a way be totally liberated by being totally ignored, you can visit musuems, eat at anytime of the day or night and literally loose yourself! I also have friends there now, so the place just suddenly seems warm and almost inviting...I know...shocking!! But then the other day I saw a post for a job in Newport in Wales for a junior reporter, and I guess that is kind of my aim, somewhere medium sized and friendly, nice shops, pleaseant people and slightly upperclass area (that's the snob in me coming out)! But Wales? Really? I have never even been so I am not having a dig at the place, all I know is what I have read about it online andit sounds great, the sea, the surfing, the shops etc.. and I would love to go, for a holiday, but could I up sticks (mine and matts) and move somewhere totally random for a job? Well at this stage, a large part of me is thinking maybe, I want to really get my career started and at the moment I feel like I am on hold, it may be about time I stopped expecting life to come to me and go out and get it myself!! Lets just watch this space eh!

In my absence!

Oh dear, I seem to have been neglecting my blog a little again, so while matt watches The Cribs on The Jools Holland show I will tell you a little about my enlighting week all thanks to a book called The Kite Runner.
This book was lent to me by my mother in law to be and I had sort of forgotten I was going to read it. But I grabbed it in haste on Monday morning not wanting my day to start with awkward glances on the tram!
It's about a boy who grew up in Afganistan, fleeing to Pakistan and then America when the Taliban took over. I haven't been able to put it down, mainly because I cannot believe I didn't realise the genicidal nature of that part of the word over the last x amount of years! How can we have missed this? How can I have missed this? Some of the chapters were incredibly difficult to read, and I had to put it down a couple of occasions to avoid the tears! It has filled me with great sadness, but also guilt, guilt for not realising that this was going on, for expressing this desire to be a journlist without really learning or trying to understand what on earth is going on, on this earth! I am learning about politics, and I almost get the government on a regional and national level, and I now moan about it with force, but that leads me to the other feeling that The Kite Runner has brought out of me, shame, for not appreciating the world in which I live in (corny I know) but true, and finally the fire in me, it's lit again, and I realise I want to be a journalist, to inform, to not put my head in the sand and to not let such issues be lost! If I can recommend a book to read this autumn, I recommend The Kite Runner because it's about time we took our heads out of the sand!

Last Day!

Well today is my last day at my job, my first ever real job that is and I am already on the move. It's been a funny few months, lots of ups but equally lots of downs. I read through other people's posts and they always sound so much more exciting than mine, and I wonder sometimes if I really a doing the things I want to do, so have decided to stop moaning about it and get on with it. I have five projects now that I am going to be working on this year, they are:
1. Sit my journalism exams in Nov 09
2. Creation of an online documentary (subject matter top secret)
3. Finishing my novel
4. A photgraphy project (subject matter - top cool)
5. Developing a short story into a film - have chosen one not just picking one out of the air :)
Not bad eh , so lets see how I get on considering that in the next 9 months I am also:
1. Moving jobs
2. getting married
3. Possibly moving house
You know what they say...a change is as good as a rest!! Lets hope so! I was inspired to create my list after reading my friends blog, I love the way she lays out her goals and actually achieves them, so if anyone is reading this, I dare you to write down 5 goals that you want to have achieved within the next year! And if you fancy letting me know, go for it!! Good Luck x x

Love, life and everything inbetween

I was recently tidying out my study when I came across a page from a newspaper which I had kept, quite perfectly preserved in the back of my portfolio, it was the front page of The Guardian which in 2006, while at univeristy I bought and made my way up to my first lecture of the day, my lecturer was late, so myself and a friend started reading the newspaper, on the front page was a story about a 31 year-old lawyer who had been stabbed at a train station in London for his mobile phone and oyster card, he died, leaving behind his finacé who then had the courage to give this testimony to the men who killed the man she loved, this is what she said:

"I must start by saying that my sense of pain and horror at losing Tom, and in such a brutal way, is literally indescribable. I have found it almost impossible even to try to put it into words but hope that I manage to convey it at least to some extent through my statement.
Tom was determined from an early age to reach his full potential in life. He worked incredibly hard and made the most of every opportunity available to him. He gave his best in everything he did and he succeeded. Yet, despite his many achievements, he was the most humble person I have ever known.
In a message left on the tree next to where he died, a friend of ours wrote: 'I remember sitting next to you at our friend's wedding, standing to sing the first hymn, and looking in wonder at you as this pure, amazing voice came out. I had no idea, after so many years of knowing you, how beautifully you sang. You were often like that - quietly achieving all these amazing things.'
There was still so much more that Tom wanted to achieve and to experience. I grieve for his loss of life and for my loss of him.
Tom was my best friend, my soul mate. I adored him - I always will. I miss him more than I could ever describe: his beautiful heart, his brilliant mind, his big loving eyes, his gentle voice, his gleeful laugh and quirky sense of humour, his dancing, our chats and the great fun that we used to have together. I miss us.
We had been together for four years last October when Tom asked me to marry him. It was the most beautiful moment of my life. I said 'yes' immediately-through tears of joy. We were deeply in love and blissfully happy together. One of our friends wrote, in his letter of condolence to me: 'The love between you was so infectious. It radiated outward and filled everyone around with warmth.'
Our plans for our wedding, which was due to be held in Italy in September, were going so well and, as with everything, Tom and I planned it together. We were so excited - the period of our engagement (just three short months) was the happiest time of our lives.
On the day Tom was killed, he had made contact with the priest who was due to conduct our wedding ceremony. He printed off the details he had received that afternoon, together with his wedding vows. They were found later that night strewn around him on the pavement as the paramedics battled to save his life.
We had felt that the best was yet to come: our wedding, children and a long and happy marriage. But it was all only ever to be a dream. As I ran in and out of our home that night over a period of hours - frantic for news of Tom - as I received the news of his death, as I lay convulsing in shock, Carty and Brown were chatting to their girlfriends on Tom's and Mr Ali's mobile phones.
The day after Tom's murder, a friend kindly cancelled the appointment I had made to show my mother what would have been my wedding dress. We then had to wait for a couple of days before being able to identify Tom's body. I could not do it. I could not bear to see Tom dead. I wanted our last memory of each other to be the same - the wonderful goodbye we had had on the Thursday morning at the train station.
In a matter of seconds wedding plans and a future together had changed to funeral plans and a lifetime apart.
I will never forget the complete confusion of Tom's three-year-old niece on the day of his funeral: one day being swung through the air and chased around the garden by her beloved uncle Thomas; the next, there were no more games, there was no more laughter - only tears. As she sat quietly by his graveside, her little hands gripping hold of the edge, we watched her uncle Thomas being gently lowered in a 'big box' into the ground. If there was anything left of my heart to break, it broke in that moment.
The pain is unlike anything I have ever experienced and unlike anything I could have ever imagined. I feel as though Carty and Brown have ripped out my heart with their bare hands and torn it, very slowly, into pieces.
Witnessing the pain that our families and friends are also suffering only adds to my own. The waves of devastation caused by Carty's and Brown's greed and bravado roll on and on. The attack which they carried out on Tom was barbaric: they showed him no mercy and have shown absolutely no remorse since.
They have made the experience even more agonising by refusing to face up to and admit to their crime and by dragging me, our families and friends through a full trial.
Greed fuelled Carty's and Brown's attack on Tom but it is obvious, particularly from the trademark injury which they inflicted on his left leg, that they were also trying to play the 'big man'.
I despair at their deeply misguided sense of logic because it is not a man who attacks a defenceless person with a knife, or any other weapon, or hunts victims down in a pack, it is a complete coward, someone who lacks the confidence to take someone on on an equal footing and instead feels the need to put themselves at an unfair advantage.
There can be no sense of victory for Carty and Brown over Tom - he never stood a chance in the first place. He was alone, defenceless and a stranger to violence. I very much doubt that, as children, any of the hopes and aspirations they held for their future included killing a man and yet here they stand convicted of that heinous crime.
What happened along the way for them to become so cruel and hateful towards others and at such a young age? What a huge waste of life - not just of Tom's but also of their own - years in prison for an Oyster card and a mobile phone. How, on any level, could it have been worth it for them?
Tom did his best to make it home that night and he nearly made it. Although I was not there to help him, or to hold him in his final moments, as I desperately wish I had been, it comforts me to know that as he passed on from this world, he was absolutely safe and secure in the knowledge that it just would not be possible for me to love him any more than I do and will forever.
There are no more tomorrows here for me and Tom and all of our hopes and dreams have been brutally torn away. I just hope that there is something better for us on the other side. In the meantime, just as hate and bitterness had no place in Tom's life, neither will they in his memory.
I am determined to ensure, along with many others, that as much good as possible comes out of this horrific tragedy, so that I can say to Tom when I see him again, as I believe I will: 'That was the most agonising experience of my life but everything that you worked so hard to achieve, and everything of you that you left behind, was cherished and built upon to touch the lives of others in the way you would have wanted - and it was all done out of our great love for you."

The honesty and pain of Adele Eastman's words, left both myself and my friend in tears and utterly devastated, despite not even knowing the man, and as I sat reading it again some 3 years later, my feelings are the same, if not more intense, perhaps due to the fact that I am now planning my own wedding and I cannot imagine the pain of loosing the man I love. After reading it I went and told my fiancé how much I love him, now and always and how much of a difference he has made to my life and that I appreciate him more than anything in the world. So why am I sharing this with you, because although it is said time and time again, life is short and precious and we never know what is around the corner. Tell those you love them regulary, love often and at every oppotunity and take from this devasting story the value that life is so very, very precious.

Almost unbelievably his family set up a memorial trust of which one of their aims is to 'help tackle the root causes of violent gang culture and violent street crime. Please see http://www.tomaprhyspryce.com/ for more info.

My Nemesis

My Nemesis is in the Market Square. I spotted it last night on my way home, and then this morning as the tram glided to a hault, there it was, orange, red, spiralled and tall, standing straight and mocking me.
I met my first Helter Skelter as a child, my Grandfather had taken us to Maidenhead for the day, and it stood so proudly in the middle of the funfair that me and my sisters thought 'hey why not' so we climbed the stairs while my Grandfather found a bench to perch on and await us shooting out the bottom one by one, like unwanted food spat out by a child. I didn't actually realise I had a problem with heights until this moment (much as I didn't realise I had a problem with small spaces until as a girl guide, I found myself half way through a concrete tunnel on an adventure playground, unable to go either forward or back)! But back to the Helter Skelter. I got to the top and my sisters were ahead of me, as you can probably imagine there was quite a queue of excited children behind us, the lady handed us a sack and the children infront climbed in and started disappearing down this hole, I remember peering over my sisters shoulder unable to see where this hole was going to, it seemed to be going nowhere but down. And then it happened, I panicked, I couldn't breath and I really really wanted to sit down and stop the world from spinning, but I couldn't, partly because there wasn't much room to sit and partly because I was afraid if I sat down I would be mistaken for being eager to go down that tunnel of death! So I cried, the lady took my sack from me and waved at my Grandfather from the top, he instinctively stood up, worried and as my sisters disappeared down the tunnel I made my way past the excited children and down the stairs to my Grandfather's arms at the bottom. No judgement, even my sisters didn't say anything, they just ran off to find something else to go on, we never really talked about it again, but everytime we went to a fairground from then on I would always steer clear of the Helter Skelter and it's tunnel of death!

Eeeeeak

My house is leaking! I kid you not, we came home yesterday to find water pouring into our lounge through the top of the window! Joy oh joy! So it's been an odd kind of weekend. We are still madly planning to try and fit in seeing people in the one week me and matt both have off, will be going to Northampton, London, Kent, Dorset and home again within about 4 days! God writing it down makes it seem even more mental! But I am really looking forward to it. I think a few days away and some time off work may put things in perspective a bit and maybe pull me out of this slump that I am in as I can't seem to pull myself out at the moment. I hate being a grumpy old cow but I just cannot seem to snap out of it, Matt must have a will of steel to put up with me, or maybe I have just worn him down completely lol! I really need to get my arse in gear and start doing stuff, or not doing stuff, like leaving the washing in the machine for 6 days and then wearing my jeans to work and releasing that they smell like I found them in a skip! Or hovering the house more than once a week, infact finishing decorating that one wall in our lounge, one wall!! Or really knuckerling down with my work and getting my exams done, and doing that car boot that I have been planning to do for the last year. In fact sod this blogging malarky I've got way to much to be getting onwiwth, I'm off to make a list of things I need to and actually start doing them!! x

Ready to blog again!

I would like to apologies for my absence, it has mostly been filled with wedding madness but also a little soul searching.
After my last blog about teaching and my ability not to do it, a friend of mine commented on how 'sorted my life is' and it left me a little enraged (sorry) only I don't at all feel like my life is sorted, I suppose no-one really does, but I infact don't own my house, and I am in a job which I am pretty sure is going nowhere and most of the time feel like everything is madly sprialling out of my control! I suppose I should look at it in a positive way....while I feel that my life is utter chaos I am obviously doing a great swan impression because no-one else has seemed to notice lol! I am not sure why it left me feeling quite so shocked to see that others see my life as 'sorted' maybe because I am actally a little afraid of having a sorted life, lets be honest we all think we want a life of plain sailing and stress free living but actually, how dull? I think it's knowing that being sorted would make me an official grown up that is so terrifying, and yes I know getting married is pretty grown up, but I know that it won't change how me and matt are so I don't find the concept of being Mrs Kaufman that daunting lol! I suppose I should take it as a compliment, but if only I could figure out why everytime I read that comment I feel like someones taken the wind out of me?!

So what have we learnt?

My friend made, what to me can only be described as, an absurd comment last night, that maybe I could teach? It's absurd because what on earth would I teach? I can think of nothing more crazy, you see I know I have learnt things, if not university was definitely a waste of three years of my life, plus the countless others I spent detained in god forsaken classrooms filled with crazy people and red chairs, and while I was disappointed with my 2:2 I did work hard for it, hence the disappointment at the final grade I was deemed worthy of receiving. The thing is though that I know what I am good at but I don't know what to do with it. I have always been a keen reader, many have, being able to read is not an outstanding skill in this day and age, however, I also have an uncanny knack of noticing the tiniest details. I can spot spelling mistakes and grammatical errors a mile off, I can read a 120 page script and see where one scene should so clearly be somewhere else. I can watch a film and rearrange it to be a better film, my mind can edit beyond anything my hands can do and I can write. Not all the time, and I am not trying to blow my own trumpet, despite a positively terrible week which has left me wishing I had the capability to drink myself stupid on a school night and still make it in to work. I am just saying that I can write. By 'not all the time' I mean I often want to write, sit down to do it and the most utter dribble you've ever read spills out, but at other times the product from my ever increasingly speedy fingers is brilliant. I am writing a novel, it's slow going, I have been doing it for a year, people have lost interest because they cannot believe it isn't finished already, but it takes time, a lot more time than I admit even I appreciated and the biggest problem with it....it's good, in fact it's friggin brilliant, and so when I sit down determined to add more to it, I start reading through the previous chapters and I cannot actually believe I have written this! It makes sense, it flows and I am in some sort of strange twisted relationship with my characters, I care about them, but I am not afraid to kill them off if the story fits. It's like a love hate relationship, where I play the role of puppet master! But I digress slightly, back to the absurd idea of me as a teacher, what would I teach people? Everything I know is somehow an instinct I have always had; I don't think it is transferable, not coherently anyway. People teach a subject they enjoy, that they are good at, could I teach English? No, I might be able to spot spelling mistakes but more often I know they are wrong but not how to put them right! I suppose this has all come from the fact that, a year after graduating I am still floating out at sea, dazed and confused but mostly at a loss at what it is I am to do, how do I use these bizarre skills of mine? I just pray that there is something out there for me, I just need to figure out exactly what it is and soon!

Is this summer?

Finally the sun has decided to raise it's head and allow us to have a least a little bit of sunshine! I even wore my flip flops to work today! Wonders will never cease! Decided to make the most of the sun while it was out and walked up to the castle to eat my lunch and even treated my self to a 99p from the ice cream van (which was actually £1.50, is that down to inflation, I am not sure?) Anyway we took in the views of nottingham from the castle walls and were suitably chuffed (especially as we had discovered that if you can prove you are a resident of nottingham you get into the castle free monday-friday) so that makes up for the 51p increase on my ice cream I guess!
All in all it's not been a bad week! I have apparently won a laptop from a competition I entered although it hasn't arrived yet and I don't think I will be completely convinced it isn't a scam until I get it, although it is through the NHS and they wouldn't lie to me, would they? So I am looking forward to a sunny weekend, with friends and maybe even a BBQ. So where ever you are and whatever you are doing, enjoy! x

Teenage crushes

In a mad rush to grab yet another book to read on the tram (I have read about 4 in the last month) I picked up one that I haven't read for a long time, and in fact one that I love dearly, without even realising I did. It is called Letters of a Love Struck Teenage and I got it free in Seventeen Magazine when I was about 13, which means I have had it for about 11 years now, the pages have little folds where I have marked my place in the past and the paper is starting to brown as old paper does and reading it again, as an 'adult' is a rather strange, sad and nostalgic experience. It has in fact made me think of my first real crush, so I thought I would tell you about him. I won't tell you his name as
a) I think most people know who he was (unless you were living under a rock that is) and
b) I think he went through enough termoil when I was stalking, I mean admiring him, all those years ago.
So he will be known as x.
I first noticed x when I was about 13, he was the bass player in our school band and two school years above me, he wasn't your usual crush (and I don't think he'll mind me saying that) you see he was rather geeky, he played in the band, was/is very intelligent and not the usual bad boy crushes that 13 year old girls go for. But I suppose I wasn't your usual 13 year old, for one I was a HUGE geek and for two I was hardly winning any beauty competitions myself!
However, for whatever reason I was infatuated with x, pretty much wherever he went I somehow mysteriously turned up (when in fact there was nothing mysterious about it, I had probably been planning with my friends down to the last detail, for weeks how to casually 'turn' up lol) sounds bonkers doesn't it? But I suppose a lot of it is down to hormones, I was 13. I used to walk past his house, just incase I would see him, I even joined the string group at the music session me and a few friends went to on a saturday, just to be slightly nearer to him (I played the FLUTE!)
I suppose unsurprisingly I scared the crap out of him, I should also mention the other woman lol! There's always one isn't there, some beautiful, intelligent, perfect little creature that happens to be 'friends' with the so called crush and the so called crush happens to be very obvously infatuated with her and not you! I never wanted to be her, but I wanted her ability to be so casually close to x which now, you can see that the reason she didn't turn into a quibberling wreck just standing next to him was because she was older, wiser and not attracted to him in the slightest!
I don't think you ever feel that way you did with a first crush again, you can't, it's pre sex, pre maturity, pre complicated and adult based reletionships involving issues such as commitment and jealousy and whose turn it is to do the washing up! It's pure and sweet, and confusing and frustrating and horrible lol! You cannot understand why oh why you are drawn to this person, just that you are and that's that! I remember watching a film at school in the Lecture theatre, the day before we broke up for the summer holidays and he was sat behind me and I could not concentrate on any of the film, not one bit of it, I remember being slightly afraid to breath, and sitting like some sort of deranged statue!!
I did speak to him once though, I asked him to the cinema, at some terrible school trip, he said yes and I distinctly remember dancing in my kitchen when I got home, he later got some snotty nosed friend to tell me he didn't want to go, but he was a 15 year old boy so we can't really blame him, can we?
I suppose the strangest part about x is that I still see him, and speak to him without loosing control of my face and legs lol! In fact the first time I saw him again was a story in its self. Picture this, I am standing in Tesco trying to choose a bottle of wine and in the background matts chatting away has become a sort of humming noise, I catch the words invited them over, so enquire as to who, just a friend and x he replies, I nearly dropped the bottle, I swear, so that evening the guy I idolised at 13 years old, popped in for a beer. Surreal does not do it senario justice. Did I mention my days of lustful looks and awkward advancements? Of course not and neither did he, which I suppose at least shows he grew up to be a gentleman. However, my apologies x if I did in fact scare the living daylights out of you, as I suspect I did. It was just a crush!

Horlicks guards against night starvation

Sorry about the title, I came across it the other day and it really made me smile...........and then frown, as in my mind I see night starvation as some kind of monster that the mighty horlicks fends off while you are sleeping, but I suppose they had to think of something unique to try and sell it, seeing as it tastes like utter crap lol!!
So what have I been up to over the last week? Alot as it so happens, works been a bit mad and it turns out I am quite rubbish at collating information, I literally have no idea why, but when I do it it just doesn't work, I mean I can find completely different information to everyone else, completely different wrong information I should point out! Not very inspiring for someone whose still thinking of going into journalism. I say thinking as the studying is going slowly, very slowly and I am not sure I can
a) teach myself this stuff
b) be any good at the stuff once I know it
c) stand any hope of find a job, especially in todays market.
The problem is that I am a writer of fiction, so I can write for hours about nothing but having to actually write about 'something' now thats a whole new kettle of fish which makes me feel very scared (maybe kettle of sharks is more appropriate).
Plus my confidence levels are at about -200 at the moment, I know knowledge I just cannot part with it! What the hell is wrong with me?
Despite all the pasts weeks ups and many many downs while I continued to get stuff wrong and annoy people, I have learnt a huge amount of information, I have gained a clearer underestanding of the company I work for, I can pretty much tell you with production company goes with almost any of the many many films we have financed and the best lesson of all, I realised how great it feels to tell someone 'your film was great' and see them smile!! So all in all not the worst weelk ever, but still, roll on Friday!!

A little responsability

So anyone whose anyone knows that Cannes is now fast approaching (I say that, but 6 months ago I couldn't even prononce Cannes let alone know that it was the location for one of the biggest film festivals in the world)! But it is, and although the tabloids are telling us that the credit crunch and swine flu panic will knock down the amount of flash parties etc I somewhat doubt that an erupting volcanoe in the centre of Cannes would stop a group of wealthy film buffs from having a damn good time. I have to say though it's not the type of festival that leaves me feeling sad that I won't (and probably never will) be included on the companies list of people attending. That said Edinburgh International Film Festival, known in the bizz as EIFF, has me wishing I could tag along. Not only is it in Edinburgh, a place I would give up my right arm to visit (which for a writer is a pretty bit deal to make) but because for me it has a bigger lure in terms of the atmosphere it creates and the types of films it shows, less art house more grit! (what more could a girl want)! And with a fab selection such as Big Things and Le Donk, who wouldn't want to see them on the big screen at the big festival!? I certianly would!
It becomes apparent more and more that in my job I am learning considerably every day, sometimes without even realising I am learning, I have been given a snippet more responsability, and it's nice, I am starting to relax, finally (it's only been 5 months after all) the problem with temping for so long is part of me can't seem to fully let go and realise that this is it, my first permanent job, it's not going to end in a months time (at least I bloody hope not) and despite all the politics that come with any job, I am enjoying it, I am finally working in the industry I love, I am meeting people that inspire me almost everyday and subsiquently I am writing again, the novel is being drip fed back to life and I have started a 'gritty' and stark screen play which is somewhat autobiographical and somewhat shocking (whether I will ever have the guts to do anything with something quite so personal time will tell?!) But the point is I feel inspired and alive, and no I don't want to be a receptionist forever but I am in the door, I don't know how many people applied for this post but I like to think I did damn well to get it and I want to prove that I can do more than this and I can work competently and with enthusiasm in this industry, why? Not because I want to run up the corporate ladder, filling my pockets as I go (although that would be nice) but because I feel at home, surrounded by my creative peers, great minds and great experience all around and I hope that I can now finally relax.

work, the book thief, war and the world

Yesterday I finished 'The Book Thief' by Markus Zusak, an amazing present from a close friend and a book that I have wanted to read for a long time, she read my mind and I am so glad she did. Every now and again I come across a book that I know will stay in my life forever, I remember the first book, it was 'Birdsong' by Sebastian Faulks, the second 'Captain Corelli's Mandolin,' the third 'Shadow of the Wind' and now 'The Book Thief.' For those of you that haven't read it I won't spoil the novel, but it is a story about the power of words, people and Hitler. In fact oddly you may or may not have noticed a running theme through the books that I have adopted, I cannot explain why I feel drawn to stories to do with war, I believe it has something to do with the way it forces humans to react, their instincts, desperation, love and short lives. Each of those books taught me something rare and true, 'Birdsong' showed me that true love does not always last a lifetime (a valuable lesson for any 17 year old). 'Captain Corelli's Mandolin' taught me about trust and beliving in yourself. 'The Shadow of the Wind' taught me that people aren't always what they seem, and ironically not to 'judge a book by its cover.' So what did 'The Book Thief' teach me? Well other than reminding me just how powerful words can be, for me it carried another message, one that resounded in me the moment I read the very first page.
When I think of war I think of soldiers, the enemy, fighting. Any mention of WWII will make the majority think of Hitler (obvioulsy) but I had never truly thought about the German people, ordinary people, that hated Hitler and his motives as much as the Jews but were too scared to do anything but agree, too afraid for their lives to help, to do anything at all. I hadn't thought about the innocent German civilians who died under our fire, our bombs, I hadn't thought about the German soldiers put on the front line because they didn't agree with their leader, none of these people had been real to me unitl I met Liesel (the protagonist but not the narrator of 'The Book Thief', Zusak gives that job to death himself). And just as Louis de Berniéres had me thinking about Kefalonia's role and decisions during WWII long after I had finished reading 'Captain Correlli's Mandolin.' I know I will be thinking about the lost (and I couldn't choose a word more fitting than 'lost') lives of anyone who was or is touched by war, even the so called 'enemy' for a long time to come.

Ten days later....

I can't believe it has been ten days since I have posted, although I don't think anyone is actually reading this so really it is the equivilant of talking to myself, but I at least find it all very theraputic, so I shall continue.
Wedding bells are in the air, although a think there is little of this wedding we shall actually plan ourselves but I think that's just the way it goes. Me and Matt chatted last night about the reality of getting married and both admitted we were actually terrified. 'What if it all goes wrong' he asked worridly 'we'll get devorced' I switfly replied. But the reality is we have 4 individual sets of parents between us, which totals 7 people in a 'parental' role as such. 7 people to attempt to please and try not to sit all together!
My parents devorce is still a little raw as it was only about 4 years ago. My Dad has remarried, which is not the way I thought it would be, especially as mum left him, for some reason you imagine it to be the other way round. But more and more I am seeing that I am realied on less and less, which is great for him, but for me a little sad. You see I like to be needed and I hadn't ever been needed before my parents seperated. Suddenly my Dad was around, just around, smoking in our flat (even though it was no smoking, I didn't have the heart to tell him, so would run around opening the windows instead), or bringing us a chinease just because or popping in while he was passing (who drives through Hucknall to Ravenshead) I know it was really because he didn't want to be alone, but for me I finally had my Dad around, a man, through his choice of career, had missed a lot of our lives, and it was great to suddenly have him there. So, some what selfishly, I enjoyed his vunerability, I was needed for the first time, not dumped on, not 'you'll do' actually needed. And now I am so glad he has found happiness and come such a long way (he really is a changed man) but again selfishly I miss the Dad that needed me. As for Mum she pushes forward, before the devorce I never saw the strong woman she really is, and while she stills drives me crazy, we struggle to connect and always gives you TOO much information, I am very proud of her, for standing on her own two feet and taking her time to find someone new. I mean what's the rush. As I said to Matt last night, we can always wait, there is no rush.
Matt worries that we want different things from life and that, that could be a problem (the majority of these fears come from us watching property programmes and me liking the houses he hates and vice versa) but I don't think we do, because I don't think either of us actually know what we really want. We decided to make lists and it turns out we do want a lot of the same things (and that I am very good at drawing Ike from South Park). For a while there I had started to envisage Carrie's wedding to Big in SATC but hopefully he's just as fearful as I am that, well lets be honest, that we might just fuck it up!

A toast before we go into battle. True love. In whatever shape or form it may come. May we all in our dotage be proud to say, "I was adored once too"

My apologies for the Four Weddings and a funeral quote. Guess we know what I will be watching the night before the big day! So we are finally booking our wedding, I will finally wear a stunning white dress (and undoubtedly cry all over it) and I will fainlly be Mrs Isabel Kaufman, I have to say that, now it's happening, coupled with the extreme excitement that has me jumping up and down at regular intervals, I also feel some what saddened. This will sound odd, but I have never felt my name went togther, you know how when people are trying to name a new baby and they say 'no that doesn't go' well apparently no-on said that when I was named. Isabel Paton. It just doesn't flow, so while part of me is glad to be getting a name that at least in my mind fits together, I am also sad to be loosing a) the name I have carried, all be it awkwardly, for the last 24 years and b) my Scottish connection, something which I have always felt quietly proud of.
There's other things too, such as being someones wife, which has a sense of ownership I dislike but at the same time a tremendous sense of safety which I love.
I am going to be with the same person for the rest of my life (yes forever........) and again fear coupled with utter excitment at the prospect of being with Matt always, knowing that my best friend, the person who makes me smile, scraps me of the floor when I am feeling blue and for some bizaare reason still loves me despite my many pages of faluts will be with me always. I suppose I should be more sceptical, mainly because both mine and Matt's parents are devorced but for whatever reason I remain hopeful that whatever the problem there will always be a way through, and I also know that, love is not enough to survive, that it takes hard work, communication and friendship! Luckily I firmly believe we have these things too :)

Two posts in one day!

I know, two posts in one day! It's madness I tell you! But I wanted to post to say that I have just watched the new campaign video from Womens Aid, a charity that helps women who have experienced abuse, if you haven't seen it, please watch it, it's incredible. Well done to Keira Knightley and and director Joe Wright who gave their time for nothing to make this.

http://www.cutmovie.co.uk/

It's shocking to watch, but it happens, I should know.

x

"Saturday night's alright alright alright, oooooh"

Unofrtunately (for me anyway) it is not Saturday today, ones head is confused. Instead of our usual Friday night down the pub, we went last night so I woke up this morning thinking it was saturday, and yes, it hurt alot when I realised it was indeed Friday. So I am on my third cup of coffee already as I try to bribe my brain into staying awake, although a day of organising press cuttings is unlikely to help with my quest!! The reason for the random Thursday pub night was because if we don't go to the pub at least one night in the week, we shrivel up and die (apparently, I don't want to test this theory to find out if I really would, so I keep going, just to be on the safe side). Tonight me and Matt are going for a curry with some of his friends from work, only we are meeting at 7pm, which is crazily early!! I don't get home from work til 6.15, and I hate rushing to go out, I like to take my time to get ready, listen to some music, not rush in rush out! Plus it also means I won't be able to meet up with some people I used to work with at ACE before hand! I blame Matt, naturally! Plus, becasue I need more things to moan about today, where has the sun gone, the blue skies and jacket weather, I was back in my long coat and scarf today! Brrrr. I was debating which jacket to wear this morning while having my breakfast in our recently spacious lounge, which now only contains one sofa instead of the standard two, I was gazing out the window at our garden, passed the pile of broken sofa......yes I said broken sofa, the bloody things no longer in the house, but it has only moved a few meters to just outside the back door! A friend of Matt's from work came over last night, husband in tow and had very kindly said we could use their extremely large car to finally take the bastard thing to the dump, only when they got there they were told they couldn't bring it in because you have to have a permit for a vehicle that size, why? incase we were dunmping industrial waste! Errr HELLO there's a large red and yellow sofa hanging out the back, you plank!! You can imagine I was rather stunned to be on the phone to my friend in the lounge and see Matt come back through the garden gate...and then the sofa! I feel he released his anger in a controled way...by smashing the bloody thing to pieces! Now it will fit in his car and will definately be going to that landfil in the sky! At last!

My relaxing day off!

Whoever suggested we buy a house that needed work, please shoot them...oh hang on, that was me! I have spent my day off trying to watch The Vicar of Dibley boxset out the corner of my eye (belated birthday present, many thanks Mike and Jan) while cleaning the paint off the floor, glue off the step by the back door and tidying our shit hole of a bedroom, oh and there's the other thing. We got a new sofa and of course, Matt being Matt, we got it before the old one had been taken away, I kid you not I have spent today ringing every charity that takes furniture in Nottingham, and not one wants it. Or they do but can only pick it up two weeks on wednesday, how very useful. The thing is this is a good sofa, it's not too worn and pretty comfy, you probably wouldn't choose it if you were buying it, mainly becasue it's yellow and red, but if you had nothing, it would be great, and the really sad thing is because we cannot get anyone to take it away and we currently have two sofa's occupying a space which is barely big enough for one, we will be dumping it, now thats great recycling isn't it! Seriously whats the world coming to when you cannot give something away. Not wanting to seem bitter but next time I am stopped in the street by a charity who inform me that I must donate, as some people have nothing, I may think twice, and maybe even tell them this little tale of woe!

Hail and damnation

I have a day off yipppeeee, and I have of course spent it wisely, having my haircut and shopping (well I am a woman what would one expect)? I did however purchase three more cushions for our beautiful new sofa, it's a corner/bed sofa, as you can move the pieces of it around and when in a square it is somewhat bed like, and very cool, needed some cusioning though so we now have seven primark cushions on it, they are really nice but as the sofa's quite large they called for quite large cushions, initially we had only got four and relised it required more fluffing so after my haircut which luckily I missed the hail (just) I trotted off to Primark to get another three. Now while I am all for saving the enviroment, I have to say that brown paper bags on a rainy day is not ideal, apparently they didn't have any plastic ones so they would have to do, well I managed to avoid the rain in town, but the bastard things were so huge and each in their own bag that I managed to clear a rail of clothes in one fail swoop in Miss Selfridges and nearly took a woman out in Boots. After this fiasco I decided to run for the tram and head home, while it was still dry out, although running was an issue as had choosen to wear a pair of jeans that are just slightly too big and no belt. Once on said tram I came face to face with three policemen (well two policemen and one policewoman) and a group of, lets say, older gentleman who to put it politely had, had a few. Although one did give me his seat, which was kind but a logistical nightmare with all my bags. Luckily they got off quite early on, but as the tram passed through the villages I realised the skies getting darker. I decided to attempt to leg it home, despite my jeans falling down (which reminded me of an halrious incident involving myself and two friends when we were in Italy a couple of years ago teaching and while running for the train one friend mentioned her jeans were falling down and the other decided to sing at the top of his voice 'Emma's jeans are falling down' to the tune of Londons bridge is falling down, all through this quiet little town we were in)! Anywho, I was almost home, I could see our bin (only one still out as usual) when the skies opened, down came the rain and out came by broken brolly, useless against the pea sized raindrops, then as quickly as it had started it stopped, all quiet, I took down my brolly. HUGE MISTAKE. Within seconds I was under attack from hail stones! Could I get my brolly back up, could I hell! So I got home soggy, broke (from the purchasing of new Ghd's and cushions), with a broken brolly, and damp cushions in damp paper bags!
All in all a successful day out , wouldn't you say?! :)

Broken Ghd's equals broken hearted!

I know to most people this is going to sound insane and you can tell me to get over myself as much as you damn well want, but anyone with unruly, frizzy, curly hair is surely going to understand the horrendous situation I am in......my Ghd straighteners broke this morning!! I turned them on, they flickered with the beautiful red light of life, beeped to signal their presence then went off, and all that was left behind was the smell of burning! Matt, bless his heart, seeing my despair tried changing the fuse but there was no hope, they are dead and I am in mourning! But what to do now, you see I bought my first pair of Ghd's when I was 18, they cost me £90 but were worth every penny, when they went to Ghd heaven I bought another, wierdly this was four years later but they had gone up in price to £100, now two years after the last pair I am faced with paying £119, for the same straighteners that cost me £90 all those years ago, the issue is that
a) thats a lot of money,
b) the price is raising but the quality seems to be falling and
c) am I crazy?
I think I already know deep down that I will buy them, because as mad as it sounds I just can't live with them, I have curly hair and a fringe?! What I am suppoed to do with that without my Ghd's?! Also we are off to Newcastle for the weekend to visit Matt's family and I refuse to spend the whole time looking like Diana Ross!
I just wish the thought of spending £119 didn't make me what to throw up quite so much as it does!!

My very first blog

This is it, my very first blog, even as I type this I am still wondering if this is a good idea. I first thought of creating a blog on here around six months ago, a friend moved to spain and started a blog to keep everyone back home up to date, and it was brilliant, I am still following her trials and tribulations almost a year on. But the thought of starting my own only came to me after I'd been reading hers, at first I though 'why not' I am a writer after all, but the more I thought about it the more I thought against it, why? Because if you plotted my life on a graph it would look like you'd squashed a spider on the page, lows and highs all over the shop. Mostly lows. and as a person who 'swallows her feelings' and all that crap and I wondered whether this would only serve to be a way of expressing on 'paper' what I cannot in words, and ultimately become one long, depressing rant about my life.
However, over the last few weeks another friend has started a blog and I suppose following hers as well as my other friends has made me realise that this doesn't have to be some splurge of emotion everytime I blog, it can just be me, my life, and I am finally at a point where I feel happy, almost contented! I am finally working in the industry I wanted to and even attempting to plan my own wedding and so suddenly the time felt right. I cannot guarantee it'll all be good (I am a bride to be after all) but I hope it will at least be honest, interesting and at times even funny! So enjoy! This is my life, love and everything inbetween!