School days... do any of us every forget those days, desperate to be a grown up and free from rules and restrictions? If only we'd listened to our parents when they told us life was easier within the school gates!
So 11 years later and the school 'reunion' was arranged. I think we all approach such events with mild trepidation but I enjoyed school, I have happy memories of it and I thought 'why not'!
Our school reunion was great fun, many of the people who attended I hadn't seen since I was 16 and many of them I hadn't ever really spoken to at school so it was great to get to know those people who were faces in the corridor but that your lives didn't cross over with...which when you're 16 means that they simply weren't in your double maths and english class, drama group or didn't hang around the same chip shop as you!
Now I wasn't particually significant at school. I wasn't a geek, I wasn't a swot, I didn't hang round the 'popular' kids and I didn't have a perm! I was just an in-betweener, one of those that didn't belong to a certain group but was happy to be just that. My greatest act of rebellion was wearing Doc Martins (albeit Cherry Red ones!) and having a few extra ear piercings that I had to hide from my Dad at every meal time for about 2 years! I was in the school plays, I sung in the school band (we never quite made it to 'choir' level) and I got on with most of my teachers! Most of my close friends from school are still my close friends and to be honest, I haven't changed a great deal. I still have pretty much the same hairstyle, the same dress size and I still don't stop for air when I'm talking!
Seeing people from school was quite surreal, it was like being back in the school field only with alcohol...and in a pub....and with mobile phones...and some money...actually it was totally different from being in the school field. Seeing all these familiar faces that you haven't seen in years makes you look at back at what you've achieved and the dreams and aspirations you still need to reach. You see what different paths people choose and see the other journeys people have taken.
I still think of myself as that slightly awkward teenager who isn't quite sure what group I sit with but I like that...I like the fact that I'm still learning about myself but at the same time can see that errors I've made have been useful and that sometimes you learn more from your mistakes than anything else. I'm a 29 year old with the mind of a teenager but without the spots and training bra. I still have so much I want to do and so much I still need to learn but I'm happy with the person I am and still have as many dreams as I did all those years ago.
So for anyone with a school reunion ahead who's questioning whether they should bother, just go....chances are you'll have a whale of a time, make new friends and cement old ones.....and if nothing else, its a great chance to see how everyone esle turned out!
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
The age old topic...of age!
Getting older, its not something we enjoy, nor is it something we can prevent. We spend much of our youth wanting to be older, wanting independence, some money in our pocket and our freedom. Once we have it, we want to turn back the clock to times where we had nothing to think about and not a care in the world. In full, we're never happy!
There was once a notion of growing old gracefully, seeing age as a depth of character, of lessons learned and experiences under your belt to pave the way for adventures of your future. Pah, its now about Youth Youth Youth..... and plenty of it!
The getting older part doesn't seem so bad... it's the ageing part that seems to have everyone in a state of turmoil these days! Everywhere you look there are adverts about delaying the process, lotions and potions to take years off and endless documentaries, reality shows and makeover programmes showing us all what we could (or should) look like. Now at 29 I know I have some time to go until this is a concern but naturally I do think about it, when will it happen, at what time will I look in the mirror and think 'when did I get old'???
I think maybe Botox will be the next thing for us, it'll be as regular as having your hair done, getting a manicure and having a bikini wax but do we really know the dangers and how many people really care in their pursuit for everlasting youth?
I, for one, am guilty of the hype. If a night cream promises to smooth and plump I'm at the front of the queue, elbows at the ready for any necessary pushing and shoving and applying it before I've even left the shop! I was the same with spot creams as a teenager and frankly I'm happier with the skin I have now than I did back then - to reiterate, we are NEVER HAPPY!
But growing old gracefully? I'm not sure that's for me! I'll be nipped and tucked and plumped and pumped by the time I reach pension age - and if I look a day over 29 I'll be demanding a refund.
In the meantime I'll continue to pour over the beauty pages, keep 'miracles makeovers' as my TV favorite and I won't feel guilty for using my magnifying mirror before bed to check for any 'changes'!!!
There was once a notion of growing old gracefully, seeing age as a depth of character, of lessons learned and experiences under your belt to pave the way for adventures of your future. Pah, its now about Youth Youth Youth..... and plenty of it!
The getting older part doesn't seem so bad... it's the ageing part that seems to have everyone in a state of turmoil these days! Everywhere you look there are adverts about delaying the process, lotions and potions to take years off and endless documentaries, reality shows and makeover programmes showing us all what we could (or should) look like. Now at 29 I know I have some time to go until this is a concern but naturally I do think about it, when will it happen, at what time will I look in the mirror and think 'when did I get old'???
I think maybe Botox will be the next thing for us, it'll be as regular as having your hair done, getting a manicure and having a bikini wax but do we really know the dangers and how many people really care in their pursuit for everlasting youth?
I, for one, am guilty of the hype. If a night cream promises to smooth and plump I'm at the front of the queue, elbows at the ready for any necessary pushing and shoving and applying it before I've even left the shop! I was the same with spot creams as a teenager and frankly I'm happier with the skin I have now than I did back then - to reiterate, we are NEVER HAPPY!
But growing old gracefully? I'm not sure that's for me! I'll be nipped and tucked and plumped and pumped by the time I reach pension age - and if I look a day over 29 I'll be demanding a refund.
In the meantime I'll continue to pour over the beauty pages, keep 'miracles makeovers' as my TV favorite and I won't feel guilty for using my magnifying mirror before bed to check for any 'changes'!!!
Friday, 5 September 2008
Dedicated to Mr and Mrs Wiles!
Weddings, weddings, everywhere.....
Rarely does a summer come and go without a wedding invitation landing on your door mat at some point. Sometimes they can fill you with a sense of foreboding, sometimes shock (they're ACTUALLY doing it at last?) and then there's your close friends, the ones you know were made to be Mr and Mrs and those weddings invitations, you can't wait to arrive!
July was the month, Stoke the venue. After months of anticipation, the big day was finally here and as we all packed into the car for our little road trip we were buzzing - two of our close mates were finally getting hitched! We were full of the usual questions, "what will the dress be like"?, "who'll cry first"?, "what time will we be eating"? - what? Excitement makes you hungry!
So as we arrive at the hotel we realise, thanks to Polly's slight mishap on timings (I blamed the traffic but really I wanted an extra half an hour in bed!), that we had about 20 minutes to get ready...in one little hotel room...with pink fizz that HAD to be drunk beforehand. As we hopped around the room applying make up, nail varnish, zipping up dresses that didn't seem to fit as well as the last time they were worn and making sure we had enough Kleenex to get through the day, it hit us that the day we'd been waiting for had finally arrived.
The church was full, both with people and emotions. The groom paced (alot) and we soon worked out that behind the door that he kept disappearing into, must be a toilet! As the bride walked down the aisle, you could hear the congregation take a gulp...to hold their tears. She looked INCREDIBLE! All brides glow and look stunning on their wedding day but the soon to be Mrs Wiles looked extra special after embarking on a diet that literally transformed her for the big day. Here she was, on the most special day of her life, unveiling all her hard work. I can honestly say I've never seen someone look so beautiful. I started crying the second I saw her...and didn't stop for most of the day. The emotions were incredible, pride, admiration, happiness to be part of their day and many more!
By the time we got to the reception we were all wishing we'd taken advantage of a big breakfast as our drinks kept being topped up with vodka and cranberry cocktails and Pimms (not together of course, that'd be really messy!). Getting drunk at a wedding is par for the course but we'd planned to stay classy for at least an hour...or two. We managed our usual....about 45 minutes!
After photos and introductions we sat down to devour our meal and as much wine as we could fill our glasses with! As we digested our desserts we settled down for the speeches. Now we'd spent a number of drunken occasions with the father of the bride so we knew we weren't going to be disappointed. I cried with laughter, I cried by the sentiment, I cried and cried and continued the routine until the final word... and then repeated the process during the grooms speech, it was full of character, humour, romance and all that we love about our Mr Wiles. I looked around at our group and saw them all wiping their eyes - "What? I have a touch of cold, I have something in my eye, I'm allergic to my eye make-up, blah blah blah...". And that was just the men! After a quick trip to the toilet and discovering we looked like we'd been slapped in the face... twice, we re-applied, re-adjusted, re-grouped and got ready to play!
As the party got into full swing, decorum and class were left at the tables (in the best possible manner!) and everyone partied....like really partied! People danced, drunk, destroyed the table and chair displays to create new outfits (us), talked to strangers (us again!)and accosted the brides parents into daft dancing, photo taking and general drunken behaviour (umm, yes you guessed it..us...again!). Mr and Mrs Wiles glowed and shone and personified what true love and companionship is all about (I may have cried a little more but by this stage was too drunk to confirm or deny it!).
We revelled in seeing the people important to us celebrate their special day, we revelled in the atmosphere they'd so carefully planned and we revelled in being together.
There is so much about weddings to share but each one is different and each couple choose theirs in the way they want to spend their day and should remain as amazing memories between those who shared it. One thing that never changes are the thoughts you take away with you. If you're single you look at you life and wonder if it'll ever be you, if you're in a couple you look to your partner and silently ask if this will be your 'one' and when your time will be and if your already married, I'm sure you reflect on your own big day. No matter though, your thoughts are with the newly weds - the new life they're about to embark on, and of course, the honeymoon!
So to our newly weds, I wish you all the happiness in the world, I wish you a wonderful and fulfilling marriage...and I know, this is one Mr and Mrs that will stand the test of the time.
So lets make a toast....to Mrs and Mrs Wiles!
Rarely does a summer come and go without a wedding invitation landing on your door mat at some point. Sometimes they can fill you with a sense of foreboding, sometimes shock (they're ACTUALLY doing it at last?) and then there's your close friends, the ones you know were made to be Mr and Mrs and those weddings invitations, you can't wait to arrive!
July was the month, Stoke the venue. After months of anticipation, the big day was finally here and as we all packed into the car for our little road trip we were buzzing - two of our close mates were finally getting hitched! We were full of the usual questions, "what will the dress be like"?, "who'll cry first"?, "what time will we be eating"? - what? Excitement makes you hungry!
So as we arrive at the hotel we realise, thanks to Polly's slight mishap on timings (I blamed the traffic but really I wanted an extra half an hour in bed!), that we had about 20 minutes to get ready...in one little hotel room...with pink fizz that HAD to be drunk beforehand. As we hopped around the room applying make up, nail varnish, zipping up dresses that didn't seem to fit as well as the last time they were worn and making sure we had enough Kleenex to get through the day, it hit us that the day we'd been waiting for had finally arrived.
The church was full, both with people and emotions. The groom paced (alot) and we soon worked out that behind the door that he kept disappearing into, must be a toilet! As the bride walked down the aisle, you could hear the congregation take a gulp...to hold their tears. She looked INCREDIBLE! All brides glow and look stunning on their wedding day but the soon to be Mrs Wiles looked extra special after embarking on a diet that literally transformed her for the big day. Here she was, on the most special day of her life, unveiling all her hard work. I can honestly say I've never seen someone look so beautiful. I started crying the second I saw her...and didn't stop for most of the day. The emotions were incredible, pride, admiration, happiness to be part of their day and many more!
By the time we got to the reception we were all wishing we'd taken advantage of a big breakfast as our drinks kept being topped up with vodka and cranberry cocktails and Pimms (not together of course, that'd be really messy!). Getting drunk at a wedding is par for the course but we'd planned to stay classy for at least an hour...or two. We managed our usual....about 45 minutes!
After photos and introductions we sat down to devour our meal and as much wine as we could fill our glasses with! As we digested our desserts we settled down for the speeches. Now we'd spent a number of drunken occasions with the father of the bride so we knew we weren't going to be disappointed. I cried with laughter, I cried by the sentiment, I cried and cried and continued the routine until the final word... and then repeated the process during the grooms speech, it was full of character, humour, romance and all that we love about our Mr Wiles. I looked around at our group and saw them all wiping their eyes - "What? I have a touch of cold, I have something in my eye, I'm allergic to my eye make-up, blah blah blah...". And that was just the men! After a quick trip to the toilet and discovering we looked like we'd been slapped in the face... twice, we re-applied, re-adjusted, re-grouped and got ready to play!
As the party got into full swing, decorum and class were left at the tables (in the best possible manner!) and everyone partied....like really partied! People danced, drunk, destroyed the table and chair displays to create new outfits (us), talked to strangers (us again!)and accosted the brides parents into daft dancing, photo taking and general drunken behaviour (umm, yes you guessed it..us...again!). Mr and Mrs Wiles glowed and shone and personified what true love and companionship is all about (I may have cried a little more but by this stage was too drunk to confirm or deny it!).
We revelled in seeing the people important to us celebrate their special day, we revelled in the atmosphere they'd so carefully planned and we revelled in being together.
There is so much about weddings to share but each one is different and each couple choose theirs in the way they want to spend their day and should remain as amazing memories between those who shared it. One thing that never changes are the thoughts you take away with you. If you're single you look at you life and wonder if it'll ever be you, if you're in a couple you look to your partner and silently ask if this will be your 'one' and when your time will be and if your already married, I'm sure you reflect on your own big day. No matter though, your thoughts are with the newly weds - the new life they're about to embark on, and of course, the honeymoon!
So to our newly weds, I wish you all the happiness in the world, I wish you a wonderful and fulfilling marriage...and I know, this is one Mr and Mrs that will stand the test of the time.
So lets make a toast....to Mrs and Mrs Wiles!
Friday, 25 July 2008
A new Polly palace?
Moving house, why do we even contemplate it? They say moving house is one of the most stressful things a person can do....after divorce... so why at 29 am I planning on buying again...for the 3rd time...on my own!?
I've spent all but 2 years of my 20's paying a mortgage and running a house. Whilst many of my friends were off on 18-30 holidays and spending their hard earned wages in Topshop, I was paying Council tax, leckie and water bills - oh and a mortgage. It sounds terribly grown up and independent but actually it was damn hard work - and a decision I've questioned many a time over the years.
I've always been independent, always had a need to 'fend for myself' and create my own security. I come from the most amazing family but both myself and my younger sister were always encouraged to stand on our own two feet and look after ourselves. I have an amazing relationship with my parents but that has developed from not living with them - with enjoying the time we choose to spend together, not the time we HAVE to spend together.
My first house was hard work, it needed a lot of work and TLC and at 22/23 I just wanted to go out and party but I had walls to plaster and paint, kitchens to tear out and home making to do. I loved and hated it in equal measures. I was there for as few years and whist I was proud of my little house, it just never truly felt like home. When some dirty scumbag broke in and stole some of my most valued possessions I decided it was time for Polly pad number 2. I bought a new apartment that didn't need a thing doing to it. I loved it. It was modern and trendy and I knew all my hard work had been worth it - plus it was on the top floor so no one was breaking in - unless Spiderman was in the area and in need of some quick cash through a little petty burglary!
Now, 3 and a bit years on I'm ready for house number 3. The daily commute has become too mush of a chore and in all honesty, this town has too many bad memories and is simply too small for me to fulfil my dreams in.
This time round doesn't hold the same excitement. I'm trying to sell a property in a very bad economical climate and I feel like I'm starting from scratch with the properties I've viewed already. I'm also plagued by the fact that I'm 29 (which is STILL VERY YOUNG!!!!!) but I'm doing it again, single handed.
Where is my prince charming? Where is the person to take away all this responsibility and make some decisions for me? Its a hard call. Its all great being independent but I can't help but sometimes feel I've failed by not having someone to share it with.
Now I know I shouldn't be looking at it so negatively, ultimately I make the call about where I live, I choose where everything goes, what colour scheme I'm having and the toilet seat is always in its rightful position - down! I can keep my 'shoe collection' photos up and I don't have to worry about making sure I have Sky Sports, a Playstation, WII, or whatever the 'ultimate toy' is right now. I don't have dirty boys filling my lounge with poker nights and debating over whether they'd 'do' Jennifer or Angelina and I know when I come home at night that my home will be exactly as I left it that morning...clean and tidy! I do, however, hope that maybe this house will be the last, that next time I'm putting up a For Sale sign up, someone will be by my side, reassuring me and sharing the tantrum and tears.
In the meantime I guess I look upon this time as I do everything else in my life - a new adventure.
So to celebrate the words of Aretha Franklin...sisters, are doing it for themselves!
I've spent all but 2 years of my 20's paying a mortgage and running a house. Whilst many of my friends were off on 18-30 holidays and spending their hard earned wages in Topshop, I was paying Council tax, leckie and water bills - oh and a mortgage. It sounds terribly grown up and independent but actually it was damn hard work - and a decision I've questioned many a time over the years.
I've always been independent, always had a need to 'fend for myself' and create my own security. I come from the most amazing family but both myself and my younger sister were always encouraged to stand on our own two feet and look after ourselves. I have an amazing relationship with my parents but that has developed from not living with them - with enjoying the time we choose to spend together, not the time we HAVE to spend together.
My first house was hard work, it needed a lot of work and TLC and at 22/23 I just wanted to go out and party but I had walls to plaster and paint, kitchens to tear out and home making to do. I loved and hated it in equal measures. I was there for as few years and whist I was proud of my little house, it just never truly felt like home. When some dirty scumbag broke in and stole some of my most valued possessions I decided it was time for Polly pad number 2. I bought a new apartment that didn't need a thing doing to it. I loved it. It was modern and trendy and I knew all my hard work had been worth it - plus it was on the top floor so no one was breaking in - unless Spiderman was in the area and in need of some quick cash through a little petty burglary!
Now, 3 and a bit years on I'm ready for house number 3. The daily commute has become too mush of a chore and in all honesty, this town has too many bad memories and is simply too small for me to fulfil my dreams in.
This time round doesn't hold the same excitement. I'm trying to sell a property in a very bad economical climate and I feel like I'm starting from scratch with the properties I've viewed already. I'm also plagued by the fact that I'm 29 (which is STILL VERY YOUNG!!!!!) but I'm doing it again, single handed.
Where is my prince charming? Where is the person to take away all this responsibility and make some decisions for me? Its a hard call. Its all great being independent but I can't help but sometimes feel I've failed by not having someone to share it with.
Now I know I shouldn't be looking at it so negatively, ultimately I make the call about where I live, I choose where everything goes, what colour scheme I'm having and the toilet seat is always in its rightful position - down! I can keep my 'shoe collection' photos up and I don't have to worry about making sure I have Sky Sports, a Playstation, WII, or whatever the 'ultimate toy' is right now. I don't have dirty boys filling my lounge with poker nights and debating over whether they'd 'do' Jennifer or Angelina and I know when I come home at night that my home will be exactly as I left it that morning...clean and tidy! I do, however, hope that maybe this house will be the last, that next time I'm putting up a For Sale sign up, someone will be by my side, reassuring me and sharing the tantrum and tears.
In the meantime I guess I look upon this time as I do everything else in my life - a new adventure.
So to celebrate the words of Aretha Franklin...sisters, are doing it for themselves!
Friday, 2 May 2008
The curse of the 'school night' hangover!
I do love a good night out. I've calmed down a bit this year with the frequency of them (yes Mr Bank Manager, I am being good!)but ultimately if there's a night out I'll be there!
Now I'm usually very good in the week. I love my job and I'm always very busy so despite having the odd 'off day' I try to ensure I'm firing on all cylinders. The weekend is when I let my hair down. I don't care how late I go to bed or whether I've had my daily fruit and veg intake, I never set an alarm and if I sleep till noon, big deal! Its not uncommon for me to stay in my PJs till late afternoon and if I want to watch hours of crap on the telly, so be it. Its the weekend and I'll do as I please, when I please!
Last night however I thought 'what the hell', I'm joining the girls for Vodka Thursday and I'm having cocktails....lots of cocktails.
Eight cocktails later and I was feeling a little worse for wear. Sometime into the evening I decided to bypass having actual food and opted for the cocktails containing fruit - as if somehow I'd get all the nutritional value I needed from a vodka soaked strawberry and a slice of lime (I call it a liquid diet)! The night progressed to shots and then it all gets hazy! The last thing I remember was 'trying to dance' and then practically rolling down the hill home (it seemed easier than walking!). Sadly at the bottom of the hill was a bush...that I landed in.
I woke up the next morning, in the previous nights clothes, with twigs in my hair and an open hip wound that was nothing short of nasty! I managed to walk to work - its amazing how much alcohol deludes you into thinking a 30 minutes brisk walk is actually just a 10 minute stroll round the corner.
Walking into work I was suddenly faced with a grim reality.....I'm still drunk...and have 9 hours of responsible work to do. Oh god! Lucozade didn't help, neither did the bacon roll and litre of water - and walking into that door frame really didn't make things easier! Somehow I managed to make it through the day and as the hangover hit, so did the pain from my tumble!
Now as lessons go, this was a pretty hard one. My hip now has a lovely 'twig' shaped scar but alcohol is now purely kept sacred for the weekend (minus the odd glass of wine rather than the whole bottle!). The things I could do when I was in my early twenties are becoming a thing of the past, but I'm not too bitter about it...really. So I can't have mid-week 'benders' like I used to, so what? I didn't have a job in my early twenties that I enjoyed getting up for in the morning, my job was purely the way to fund my nights out but after a while that novelty does wear off.
So instead I've struck a balance. My drunken fun nights out are kept for the weekend rather than 'school nights' but I'm a grown up - so if I want to stay in bed all day on Sunday watching trashing TV with a hangover then big deal..... I have my own home and no one to answer to...so nerrrrr!
Ooh, its Friday night, what am I doing writing a blog, I'm off for some wine. The whole bottle in fact!
Now I'm usually very good in the week. I love my job and I'm always very busy so despite having the odd 'off day' I try to ensure I'm firing on all cylinders. The weekend is when I let my hair down. I don't care how late I go to bed or whether I've had my daily fruit and veg intake, I never set an alarm and if I sleep till noon, big deal! Its not uncommon for me to stay in my PJs till late afternoon and if I want to watch hours of crap on the telly, so be it. Its the weekend and I'll do as I please, when I please!
Last night however I thought 'what the hell', I'm joining the girls for Vodka Thursday and I'm having cocktails....lots of cocktails.
Eight cocktails later and I was feeling a little worse for wear. Sometime into the evening I decided to bypass having actual food and opted for the cocktails containing fruit - as if somehow I'd get all the nutritional value I needed from a vodka soaked strawberry and a slice of lime (I call it a liquid diet)! The night progressed to shots and then it all gets hazy! The last thing I remember was 'trying to dance' and then practically rolling down the hill home (it seemed easier than walking!). Sadly at the bottom of the hill was a bush...that I landed in.
I woke up the next morning, in the previous nights clothes, with twigs in my hair and an open hip wound that was nothing short of nasty! I managed to walk to work - its amazing how much alcohol deludes you into thinking a 30 minutes brisk walk is actually just a 10 minute stroll round the corner.
Walking into work I was suddenly faced with a grim reality.....I'm still drunk...and have 9 hours of responsible work to do. Oh god! Lucozade didn't help, neither did the bacon roll and litre of water - and walking into that door frame really didn't make things easier! Somehow I managed to make it through the day and as the hangover hit, so did the pain from my tumble!
Now as lessons go, this was a pretty hard one. My hip now has a lovely 'twig' shaped scar but alcohol is now purely kept sacred for the weekend (minus the odd glass of wine rather than the whole bottle!). The things I could do when I was in my early twenties are becoming a thing of the past, but I'm not too bitter about it...really. So I can't have mid-week 'benders' like I used to, so what? I didn't have a job in my early twenties that I enjoyed getting up for in the morning, my job was purely the way to fund my nights out but after a while that novelty does wear off.
So instead I've struck a balance. My drunken fun nights out are kept for the weekend rather than 'school nights' but I'm a grown up - so if I want to stay in bed all day on Sunday watching trashing TV with a hangover then big deal..... I have my own home and no one to answer to...so nerrrrr!
Ooh, its Friday night, what am I doing writing a blog, I'm off for some wine. The whole bottle in fact!
Wednesday, 16 April 2008
Its just a number....really!!!
So, it dawned on me, I'm 30 next year! That means at my next birthday in a few months I'll be celebrating my last year as a 'twenty something'....eek!
Now its never bothered me before, I don't feel anywhere near my age and since I still get asked for ID buying wine I think I'm weathering fairly well! My friends are all a mix of ages from early twenties (lucky swines!) to 40 somethings and age is simply a number to us all but turning 30 is a milestone and I'm trying to figure out just how to approach it when it finally arrives.
When I think back, I wonder if there's an age I'd have liked to stay at. My late teens and early twenties were full of change - leaving home for the first time to go to University, making new friends and learning how to fend for myself, my first 'serious' boyfriend and my first 'serious' heartbreak! Discovering the big world out there can be daunting but I loved every minute, the parties, the nights out, the debauchery and the experimentation, the freedom and the lack of responsibility, learning how to meet dissertation deadlines and spend your student loans and most importantly learning about the differences in people. I opened both arms and wrapped them around all the opportunities that came my way and I started, for the first time, to see who I was, what made me tick and what I wanted to achieve.
Leaving University was a shock to the system, I went through a period of mourning and missed the life I'd had - always having one of your mates in a room down the corridor, like minded conversations with people who had the same goals, the same aspirations, a party only being a phone call away and the freedom to be who you wanted to be - and a large overdraft facility to fund it all! Moving home was a shock to the system - having to answer to someone again - what time you'd be home, why you didn't come home, whether you wanted some tea making - if you were eating properly! Getting a job didn't feel like success, it felt too adult and conforming, no more lying in bed watching Richard and Judy whilst 'pretending' to do course work, I had to go out there and earn my crust!
After a short time the ultimate 'nesting' stage occurred - buying my first property! I was 22 and unprepared. It was what I wanted but suddenly having to curb nights out to pay for bills was a huge shock to the system. I've been on the ladder ever since and I'm now looking at buying and selling for the third time but still I don't feel any older than I did as a 22 year old doing it for the first time.
OK so I'm in a successful job, I earn a good wage but I've no more money now than I did then, as my wage increases so do my spending habits and the harder you work, the harder you want to play!
So as you hit certain age do you really have to start acting it? A friend of mine recently complained that she was 'too old' to wear a certain style of clothes - she's 31 and constantly mistaken for a someone about 8 years younger yet the constraints that society place on people make you question what's acceptable.
Maybe its harder when you're single? I love being single and always have. I love that I don't have anyone else to think about and that I can live my life as I please but I don't want to grow old alone. I find the men I attract are much younger than me, and although I'm not adverse to the 'younger man' I'm not sure its something I want to pursue.
So I've decided not to conform. I'm going to continue my mad nights out, I'm going to continue wearing little clothes and I'm going to continue carrying my ID with me to the off license. I'm not going to stop doing the things I enjoy because my peers are settled into family life, I'm going to continue to open my arms to the opportunities that pass my way. I won't compare what I have to those around me and I won't let my choice of lifestyle be criticised or compromised. I'll dance on stages in nightclubs and swig from my bottle of beer, I'll stay out till 5am and not worry about the next morning, I'll spend too much and think about those raining days when they happen. Most importantly I'll stay happy and true to myself - and if anyone doesn't like it....tough.....I'm an adult, you can't tell me off!!!
Now its never bothered me before, I don't feel anywhere near my age and since I still get asked for ID buying wine I think I'm weathering fairly well! My friends are all a mix of ages from early twenties (lucky swines!) to 40 somethings and age is simply a number to us all but turning 30 is a milestone and I'm trying to figure out just how to approach it when it finally arrives.
When I think back, I wonder if there's an age I'd have liked to stay at. My late teens and early twenties were full of change - leaving home for the first time to go to University, making new friends and learning how to fend for myself, my first 'serious' boyfriend and my first 'serious' heartbreak! Discovering the big world out there can be daunting but I loved every minute, the parties, the nights out, the debauchery and the experimentation, the freedom and the lack of responsibility, learning how to meet dissertation deadlines and spend your student loans and most importantly learning about the differences in people. I opened both arms and wrapped them around all the opportunities that came my way and I started, for the first time, to see who I was, what made me tick and what I wanted to achieve.
Leaving University was a shock to the system, I went through a period of mourning and missed the life I'd had - always having one of your mates in a room down the corridor, like minded conversations with people who had the same goals, the same aspirations, a party only being a phone call away and the freedom to be who you wanted to be - and a large overdraft facility to fund it all! Moving home was a shock to the system - having to answer to someone again - what time you'd be home, why you didn't come home, whether you wanted some tea making - if you were eating properly! Getting a job didn't feel like success, it felt too adult and conforming, no more lying in bed watching Richard and Judy whilst 'pretending' to do course work, I had to go out there and earn my crust!
After a short time the ultimate 'nesting' stage occurred - buying my first property! I was 22 and unprepared. It was what I wanted but suddenly having to curb nights out to pay for bills was a huge shock to the system. I've been on the ladder ever since and I'm now looking at buying and selling for the third time but still I don't feel any older than I did as a 22 year old doing it for the first time.
OK so I'm in a successful job, I earn a good wage but I've no more money now than I did then, as my wage increases so do my spending habits and the harder you work, the harder you want to play!
So as you hit certain age do you really have to start acting it? A friend of mine recently complained that she was 'too old' to wear a certain style of clothes - she's 31 and constantly mistaken for a someone about 8 years younger yet the constraints that society place on people make you question what's acceptable.
Maybe its harder when you're single? I love being single and always have. I love that I don't have anyone else to think about and that I can live my life as I please but I don't want to grow old alone. I find the men I attract are much younger than me, and although I'm not adverse to the 'younger man' I'm not sure its something I want to pursue.
So I've decided not to conform. I'm going to continue my mad nights out, I'm going to continue wearing little clothes and I'm going to continue carrying my ID with me to the off license. I'm not going to stop doing the things I enjoy because my peers are settled into family life, I'm going to continue to open my arms to the opportunities that pass my way. I won't compare what I have to those around me and I won't let my choice of lifestyle be criticised or compromised. I'll dance on stages in nightclubs and swig from my bottle of beer, I'll stay out till 5am and not worry about the next morning, I'll spend too much and think about those raining days when they happen. Most importantly I'll stay happy and true to myself - and if anyone doesn't like it....tough.....I'm an adult, you can't tell me off!!!
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
The soap opera...run titles
I sometimes think my life would fit in well in a soap opera - I can see myself propping up the bar in The Rovers or the Queen Vic telling all and sundry about my latest drama!
Now I don't chase drama but I think when you're single it just hunts you down and puts its feet up in your life until a more 'settled' time comes along! Sometimes I can sit and laugh about it, other times I can't help but hold a little self pity party for myself and wonder when it'll all end - not just for me but for my friends too - who incidentally need a medal for some of the things they've supported me through recently.
I have a good life, I know that - I have a great job, a lovely home, a cool car and the best friends a girl can be lucky enough to have. I have a brilliant relationship with my parents, a sister who is my best friend and my social life is always packed but I do seem to be dealt some punches at times and my trust in human nature gets tested more than I'd like!
I'm sure when myself and my girls are sat in our Spanish holiday resort in years to come, sunning our botox smooth complexions despite being past pension age and watching the young hotties walk by whilst the hubbies are out playing golf/on the yacht/earning money that we can spend (delete as appropriate) we'll be laughing about the times we often found so hard. "It was all part of growing up" we'll say. "All part of life's rich tapestry, a learning curve" we'll scoff before ordering a cocktail we're too old to drink and wolf whistling at the waiter!
Being single is great fun, you have no agenda, no one else to think about and you can plan whatever you like, when you like. BUT and it can be a big but, it can be lonely too. There's always a past relationship you're bruised from and usually someone who appears in your thoughts more than you'd like. You wonder where the 'good men' are and sometimes question whether they actually exist at all - I'm still skeptical!
Anyone who has ever read my blog before will know, most of the time I write about dates - or more specifically, bad dates! I hate dates anyway, I turn them down on a regular basis and when I do agree to them I'm usually either drunk or put on the spot and can't engage my brain quick enough to come up with a witty answer that equates to 'thanks but no thanks'!
I don't know where my issue lies. I get very panicky hours before and talk myself out of going at least 100 times before I go. I have tried every excuse in the past not to go and am known to let people down at the last hour - my fish just died (I don't have fish), I've double booked (my diary is always with me so practically impossible), I have nothing to wear (I'm female so again, impossible), I'm ill (OK that one does work but I must be the sickest person in the midlands!). In a nutshell I hate dates, in 10 years I have probably looked forward to maybe four - and I've been on A LOT of dates!
Usually I tell myself I won't like the poor guy so invariably I don't. I've become very good at pretending to have a good time and finding their stories about their camping holidays when they were 12 riveting. I grin and bite my tongue (hard) when they touch my knee or pretend to sweep away a piece of hair that I know isn't there. I resist the temptation to reach my arms in front of me and shout "IF YOUR THIS CLOSE...YOUR TOO CLOSE"!!! And then when I leave I find myself saying the dreaded three words................"I'll call you". I'll never learn!
Aside from my own date disasters there's the tales from my friends - he was too keen, he wasn't keen enough, he had bad shoes or ordered a strawberry cocktail instead of a beer! I sometimes wonder if these poor men can ever win. But I like to think that me and my friends are simply looking for something right - not 'right for now'. We don't treat anyone badly, we always act ourselves and we're ladies that, hopefully, men would be proud to take home to their mums?!
So, still I'm single, still I'm hopeful, still I'm hung up over someone I can't have and still I'm turning down men I can. But still life seems bright - and still - there's always red wine and a giggle with the loves of my lives - STILL my friends!
Now I don't chase drama but I think when you're single it just hunts you down and puts its feet up in your life until a more 'settled' time comes along! Sometimes I can sit and laugh about it, other times I can't help but hold a little self pity party for myself and wonder when it'll all end - not just for me but for my friends too - who incidentally need a medal for some of the things they've supported me through recently.
I have a good life, I know that - I have a great job, a lovely home, a cool car and the best friends a girl can be lucky enough to have. I have a brilliant relationship with my parents, a sister who is my best friend and my social life is always packed but I do seem to be dealt some punches at times and my trust in human nature gets tested more than I'd like!
I'm sure when myself and my girls are sat in our Spanish holiday resort in years to come, sunning our botox smooth complexions despite being past pension age and watching the young hotties walk by whilst the hubbies are out playing golf/on the yacht/earning money that we can spend (delete as appropriate) we'll be laughing about the times we often found so hard. "It was all part of growing up" we'll say. "All part of life's rich tapestry, a learning curve" we'll scoff before ordering a cocktail we're too old to drink and wolf whistling at the waiter!
Being single is great fun, you have no agenda, no one else to think about and you can plan whatever you like, when you like. BUT and it can be a big but, it can be lonely too. There's always a past relationship you're bruised from and usually someone who appears in your thoughts more than you'd like. You wonder where the 'good men' are and sometimes question whether they actually exist at all - I'm still skeptical!
Anyone who has ever read my blog before will know, most of the time I write about dates - or more specifically, bad dates! I hate dates anyway, I turn them down on a regular basis and when I do agree to them I'm usually either drunk or put on the spot and can't engage my brain quick enough to come up with a witty answer that equates to 'thanks but no thanks'!
I don't know where my issue lies. I get very panicky hours before and talk myself out of going at least 100 times before I go. I have tried every excuse in the past not to go and am known to let people down at the last hour - my fish just died (I don't have fish), I've double booked (my diary is always with me so practically impossible), I have nothing to wear (I'm female so again, impossible), I'm ill (OK that one does work but I must be the sickest person in the midlands!). In a nutshell I hate dates, in 10 years I have probably looked forward to maybe four - and I've been on A LOT of dates!
Usually I tell myself I won't like the poor guy so invariably I don't. I've become very good at pretending to have a good time and finding their stories about their camping holidays when they were 12 riveting. I grin and bite my tongue (hard) when they touch my knee or pretend to sweep away a piece of hair that I know isn't there. I resist the temptation to reach my arms in front of me and shout "IF YOUR THIS CLOSE...YOUR TOO CLOSE"!!! And then when I leave I find myself saying the dreaded three words................"I'll call you". I'll never learn!
Aside from my own date disasters there's the tales from my friends - he was too keen, he wasn't keen enough, he had bad shoes or ordered a strawberry cocktail instead of a beer! I sometimes wonder if these poor men can ever win. But I like to think that me and my friends are simply looking for something right - not 'right for now'. We don't treat anyone badly, we always act ourselves and we're ladies that, hopefully, men would be proud to take home to their mums?!
So, still I'm single, still I'm hopeful, still I'm hung up over someone I can't have and still I'm turning down men I can. But still life seems bright - and still - there's always red wine and a giggle with the loves of my lives - STILL my friends!
Friday, 25 January 2008
The perils of Facebook!
I love Facebook - well, maybe 'love' is a strong word but I can truthfully say it takes up a lot of my time!
Now I've recently been considering doing a Facebook Detox or shock horror, deleting it altogether but I somehow can't bring myself to just yet. Facebook has put me back in touch with old school friends and university friends and since I'm a big fan of other peoples business, I get to be nosey whenever I like!
Now the one thing that, to me, has spoiled the whole charm of Facebook are the endless applications. Some of them are fun, some are totally mad and quite frankly some are downright pathetic. I draw my attention for this rant to the latter - the pathetic.
Hot or Not? Would you DO me? Would you date me? Rate Me, Would you kiss me, How good am I in bed?, What sort of kisser am I................this list goes on and on and on.
Now some are funny but lets face it, you see all those applications on one persons page and you think one thing - arrogant bastard! Has Facebook suddenly become a dating service? Is it used purely to feed the egos of those who, quite frankly have more ego than they deserve anyway?
Now I admit I have succumbed to a few of these applications just to see what they're about and then been so ashamed and mortified that I've deleted them instantly. Then there are the ones that you never signed up to but seem to have anyway - what the hell is 'Zoosk' and why do people keep saying 'wink wink' to me? Is this the way people date these days? If so I'm abstaining until the traditional way comes back into fashion!!!
And what is 'Owned'? Another application I seem to have acquired and don't know how to get rid of! Strangers keep bidding on me - people I don't even know - one of them is female so if she's reading this blog - sorry love, your barking up the wrong tree!!!
So I'll continue to click 'ignore' and 'reject' on these applications and will keep deleting the regular spam that comes through on a daily basis, most of which could be passed off as porn. I think however it will take some time until I stop going up to people and asking "are you ...........? I'm sure I've seen you on ............'s facebook page"!!!!!
Now I've recently been considering doing a Facebook Detox or shock horror, deleting it altogether but I somehow can't bring myself to just yet. Facebook has put me back in touch with old school friends and university friends and since I'm a big fan of other peoples business, I get to be nosey whenever I like!
Now the one thing that, to me, has spoiled the whole charm of Facebook are the endless applications. Some of them are fun, some are totally mad and quite frankly some are downright pathetic. I draw my attention for this rant to the latter - the pathetic.
Hot or Not? Would you DO me? Would you date me? Rate Me, Would you kiss me, How good am I in bed?, What sort of kisser am I................this list goes on and on and on.
Now some are funny but lets face it, you see all those applications on one persons page and you think one thing - arrogant bastard! Has Facebook suddenly become a dating service? Is it used purely to feed the egos of those who, quite frankly have more ego than they deserve anyway?
Now I admit I have succumbed to a few of these applications just to see what they're about and then been so ashamed and mortified that I've deleted them instantly. Then there are the ones that you never signed up to but seem to have anyway - what the hell is 'Zoosk' and why do people keep saying 'wink wink' to me? Is this the way people date these days? If so I'm abstaining until the traditional way comes back into fashion!!!
And what is 'Owned'? Another application I seem to have acquired and don't know how to get rid of! Strangers keep bidding on me - people I don't even know - one of them is female so if she's reading this blog - sorry love, your barking up the wrong tree!!!
So I'll continue to click 'ignore' and 'reject' on these applications and will keep deleting the regular spam that comes through on a daily basis, most of which could be passed off as porn. I think however it will take some time until I stop going up to people and asking "are you ...........? I'm sure I've seen you on ............'s facebook page"!!!!!
The world gone crazy?
The world of Celebrity is a strange concept to understand isn't it?!
We enjoy witnessing the misfortunes of others and where I do enjoy seeing the fashion faux pas's of the rich and famous from time to time, I can't agree with the incessant need to know who is in rehab, who's sleeping with who or who's had botox and a boob job!
Unless you've been living on the moon for the past year, you would know that the one time 'Princess of Pop', the American Dream that is Britney Spears has been suffering a very public breakdown that started with the shaving of her head to the more recent loss of custody for her two children in a court battle with her ex husband.
Is this a true sign of what young fame and too much money can do? We all knew that Ms Spears was never an angel despite the image they so desperately tried to depict for so many years, but who would have known that this young women who every woman wanted to be like and every man, gay or straight, idolised, would turn out to be so troubled. It seems no one is able to help this fallen star and ironically it goes to show that money can't buy you happiness or security - and it sure as hell can't buy you faithful friends and family. It makes you wonder how much of her troubles are down to living such a public life and being hounded by the press from sunrise to sunset - even nipping to the chemist to buy her tampax becomes a public affair - quite frankly who cares anyway?
We've been watching the details of Princess Dianas death unfold before us for the last 10 years - once again the press being in the forefront when it come to laying the blame. How many more celebrities or public figures are going to go this way?
This week the untimely death of Heath Ledger was announced to the world. Heath was just 28 and had a wonderful future ahead of him. Although known to have an anxious personality at times, this young man had a two year old daughter and everything to live for. We're yet to know how he died but of course the rumour mill goes into overdrive with talk of an overdose and a lengthy drug battle. These people may be on our cinema screens and in the magazines but that does not give anyone the right to judge another persons life. Heath has a family that will be grieving right now and the press are tearing his life apart to find answers - or 'fodder' that will sell on the news stands. There were crowds of people stood outside his apartment waiting for his body to be removed - is that the most extreme sense of morbidity possible? It takes the term 'rubber knecking' to the next stage.
The latest is that a church group are going to protest at his funeral after Heaths portrayal of a gay character in the award winning film Brokeback Mountain. Has the world gone crazy? Are these people for real?
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22813570/
When is the law going to change to prevent this hounding? I agree that when you choose to live a 'celebrity' lifestyle you do become targets for the media. I agree that they have certain responsibilities to the impressionable and have opportunities to promote great causes that should be monopolised - they are however human and should be allowed to make mistakes like everyone else - and not in the public glare!
So let Amy do rehab in peace, leave Lily to grieve her recent loss, let the reality stars have their moments of fame but don't encourage their 'knicker flashing', who cares who Kate Moss is currently seeing and big deal if Girls Aloud have all lost 3lbs each!
Give me proper news, give me good news - just give me news!
We enjoy witnessing the misfortunes of others and where I do enjoy seeing the fashion faux pas's of the rich and famous from time to time, I can't agree with the incessant need to know who is in rehab, who's sleeping with who or who's had botox and a boob job!
Unless you've been living on the moon for the past year, you would know that the one time 'Princess of Pop', the American Dream that is Britney Spears has been suffering a very public breakdown that started with the shaving of her head to the more recent loss of custody for her two children in a court battle with her ex husband.
Is this a true sign of what young fame and too much money can do? We all knew that Ms Spears was never an angel despite the image they so desperately tried to depict for so many years, but who would have known that this young women who every woman wanted to be like and every man, gay or straight, idolised, would turn out to be so troubled. It seems no one is able to help this fallen star and ironically it goes to show that money can't buy you happiness or security - and it sure as hell can't buy you faithful friends and family. It makes you wonder how much of her troubles are down to living such a public life and being hounded by the press from sunrise to sunset - even nipping to the chemist to buy her tampax becomes a public affair - quite frankly who cares anyway?
We've been watching the details of Princess Dianas death unfold before us for the last 10 years - once again the press being in the forefront when it come to laying the blame. How many more celebrities or public figures are going to go this way?
This week the untimely death of Heath Ledger was announced to the world. Heath was just 28 and had a wonderful future ahead of him. Although known to have an anxious personality at times, this young man had a two year old daughter and everything to live for. We're yet to know how he died but of course the rumour mill goes into overdrive with talk of an overdose and a lengthy drug battle. These people may be on our cinema screens and in the magazines but that does not give anyone the right to judge another persons life. Heath has a family that will be grieving right now and the press are tearing his life apart to find answers - or 'fodder' that will sell on the news stands. There were crowds of people stood outside his apartment waiting for his body to be removed - is that the most extreme sense of morbidity possible? It takes the term 'rubber knecking' to the next stage.
The latest is that a church group are going to protest at his funeral after Heaths portrayal of a gay character in the award winning film Brokeback Mountain. Has the world gone crazy? Are these people for real?
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22813570/
When is the law going to change to prevent this hounding? I agree that when you choose to live a 'celebrity' lifestyle you do become targets for the media. I agree that they have certain responsibilities to the impressionable and have opportunities to promote great causes that should be monopolised - they are however human and should be allowed to make mistakes like everyone else - and not in the public glare!
So let Amy do rehab in peace, leave Lily to grieve her recent loss, let the reality stars have their moments of fame but don't encourage their 'knicker flashing', who cares who Kate Moss is currently seeing and big deal if Girls Aloud have all lost 3lbs each!
Give me proper news, give me good news - just give me news!
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
I Love Birthdays Me!!!
I love birthdays! I figure you only get one a year so why not make the most of being the centre of attention for a whole day!
So this year was no different. I celebrated mine like it was an Indian wedding (minus the elephants and outfits covered in money!!!). My birthday was on the Thursday and I finished celebrating on the Sunday - I think I'll need a new liver by the time the next birthday comes round but what can I say. I had a fantastic time so it was worth the sharp pains in my side i've been experiencing ever since!
So the main celebration was the Saturday. I had all my 'bestest' friends come over for a pre-town gathering and then hit the bars! People started to arrive at about 6pm - by which time I'd already consumed a few beverages, of an alcoholic nature, and was well on my way to feeling slightly merry. Once everyone arrived it was pressie time - my favourite part. I was bought some amazing gifts and squeeled like a little kid at christmas as I was opening them as my mum stood over tutting and shaking her head "you'd think she'd have grown out of all this by now"!!!
So we all looked glam, there was big hair, glittery outfits and even false eyelashes (people must have thought I had a nervous twitch but really I was trying to look seductive as I fluttered!). One of the girls looked particularly 'chesty' and after a few drinks she admitted she had socks down her bra! Brilliant!
As soon as we arrived in town the shots began (and by that I mean alcohol shots - we weren't in the murder capital!) so the burning sensation could only be rectified by another drink so before long I was talking very loudly and announcing at timely intervals that "I KNOW i'm drrrunk BUT i bloooody love you guys"
Next bar and it all started to get a bit like a swedish soft porn film - each person in turn had to do they're best cleavage shot (including the boys) and onlookers were starting to point and whisper - my mum would have been so proud! We were getting louder and louder and our jokes were getting ruder and ruder, the gang was in full swing!
So onto the next venue and it was salsa time "clear some space everyone, I'm going to show you my dance moves" and without a dance floor in sight I spun and sashayed and wiggled my hips like I was in the Blackpool ballroom! I counted I had 9 bruises on me the next day so I'll let you decide for yourself how good my salsa was!!!
By this time everyone was showing the signs of alcohol excesses and we were well oiled machines! I found i'd lost my purse so went on a frantic drunken search only to find I'd given it to my sister to buy a round of drinks ten minutes previous! I lost my house key but thought it was absolutely fine once I found another on the dance floor and decided that as long as I had a key, it didn't matter whose door it was for. Strangely enough the key actually belonged to my pal which was a stroke of luck (for him not for me) so the poor bloke has been too scared to go to sleep of an evening in case I let myself into his house whilst he's sleeping and do rude things to him!!!!!!
We filled the dancefloor (more salsa from me), we drank lots more, we took loads of photos I wouldn't want my mum to see and one by one my friends were disappearing to throw up. After a crowd of about 17, there were 2 standing by the end - although my co-ordination has stopped working and I'd managed to stand on my mates foot and left a stiletto mark in it - poor girl has been wearing flat shoes ever since until the swelling goes down and her foot returns to a normal pink colour rather than the blue, yellow and purple it resembles now.
We finally decided it was time for home when I started talking to an ex boyfriend - after a million drinks its never a good decision. The last thing I remember was my pal taking me by the arm and saying "come on Polly, its time to get you home".
Once back at my Ivory Towers I forgot which flat I lived in so decided to press all the intercom buttons (i'm still waiting for the dog poo through my letterbox!). We finally made it upstairs to find bodies everywhere (not dead ones luckily but also not conscious!). There was broken glass all over the floor where one of the girls had tried to smoke something illegal out of the window and knocked a vase over and another girls snoring was echoing round the block!!! I'd threatened to make her sleep in the car but she'd snook into the spare room!
I eventually crawled into bed and curled up next to my pal and I was out the minute my head hit the pillow. When I woke up a few hours later I thought someone had tried to beat me up - i've had some hangovers in my time but oh my lord, this was a bad un. The flat looked and smelt like the zoo with all our sweaty bodies in one small area and we all looked grim - and a little green.
No matter how bad the hangover though, I had an incredible night. Next year for my birthday can someone please buy me a new liver.....or a 5 night stint in a rehab centre???
Much love xxxxx
So this year was no different. I celebrated mine like it was an Indian wedding (minus the elephants and outfits covered in money!!!). My birthday was on the Thursday and I finished celebrating on the Sunday - I think I'll need a new liver by the time the next birthday comes round but what can I say. I had a fantastic time so it was worth the sharp pains in my side i've been experiencing ever since!
So the main celebration was the Saturday. I had all my 'bestest' friends come over for a pre-town gathering and then hit the bars! People started to arrive at about 6pm - by which time I'd already consumed a few beverages, of an alcoholic nature, and was well on my way to feeling slightly merry. Once everyone arrived it was pressie time - my favourite part. I was bought some amazing gifts and squeeled like a little kid at christmas as I was opening them as my mum stood over tutting and shaking her head "you'd think she'd have grown out of all this by now"!!!
So we all looked glam, there was big hair, glittery outfits and even false eyelashes (people must have thought I had a nervous twitch but really I was trying to look seductive as I fluttered!). One of the girls looked particularly 'chesty' and after a few drinks she admitted she had socks down her bra! Brilliant!
As soon as we arrived in town the shots began (and by that I mean alcohol shots - we weren't in the murder capital!) so the burning sensation could only be rectified by another drink so before long I was talking very loudly and announcing at timely intervals that "I KNOW i'm drrrunk BUT i bloooody love you guys"
Next bar and it all started to get a bit like a swedish soft porn film - each person in turn had to do they're best cleavage shot (including the boys) and onlookers were starting to point and whisper - my mum would have been so proud! We were getting louder and louder and our jokes were getting ruder and ruder, the gang was in full swing!
So onto the next venue and it was salsa time "clear some space everyone, I'm going to show you my dance moves" and without a dance floor in sight I spun and sashayed and wiggled my hips like I was in the Blackpool ballroom! I counted I had 9 bruises on me the next day so I'll let you decide for yourself how good my salsa was!!!
By this time everyone was showing the signs of alcohol excesses and we were well oiled machines! I found i'd lost my purse so went on a frantic drunken search only to find I'd given it to my sister to buy a round of drinks ten minutes previous! I lost my house key but thought it was absolutely fine once I found another on the dance floor and decided that as long as I had a key, it didn't matter whose door it was for. Strangely enough the key actually belonged to my pal which was a stroke of luck (for him not for me) so the poor bloke has been too scared to go to sleep of an evening in case I let myself into his house whilst he's sleeping and do rude things to him!!!!!!
We filled the dancefloor (more salsa from me), we drank lots more, we took loads of photos I wouldn't want my mum to see and one by one my friends were disappearing to throw up. After a crowd of about 17, there were 2 standing by the end - although my co-ordination has stopped working and I'd managed to stand on my mates foot and left a stiletto mark in it - poor girl has been wearing flat shoes ever since until the swelling goes down and her foot returns to a normal pink colour rather than the blue, yellow and purple it resembles now.
We finally decided it was time for home when I started talking to an ex boyfriend - after a million drinks its never a good decision. The last thing I remember was my pal taking me by the arm and saying "come on Polly, its time to get you home".
Once back at my Ivory Towers I forgot which flat I lived in so decided to press all the intercom buttons (i'm still waiting for the dog poo through my letterbox!). We finally made it upstairs to find bodies everywhere (not dead ones luckily but also not conscious!). There was broken glass all over the floor where one of the girls had tried to smoke something illegal out of the window and knocked a vase over and another girls snoring was echoing round the block!!! I'd threatened to make her sleep in the car but she'd snook into the spare room!
I eventually crawled into bed and curled up next to my pal and I was out the minute my head hit the pillow. When I woke up a few hours later I thought someone had tried to beat me up - i've had some hangovers in my time but oh my lord, this was a bad un. The flat looked and smelt like the zoo with all our sweaty bodies in one small area and we all looked grim - and a little green.
No matter how bad the hangover though, I had an incredible night. Next year for my birthday can someone please buy me a new liver.....or a 5 night stint in a rehab centre???
Much love xxxxx
Monday, 28 May 2007
Can you change your type?
Men are a funny thing - well actually so are woman at times - but I've been pondering on the whole dynamics of meeting that ideal chappy (if there is such a thing!).
Dating is a funny game, you meet with a stranger, talk about your life story and then argue over who pays the bill. Then there's the whole arranging a next date or having to avoid the subject if you don't want a repeat, and then the goodnight kiss -urgh, awful! Then you either wait for them to call - or pray for them not to if your not interested! Its no wonder there's so many books written about it!
Actually getting a date in the first place can be quite tricky, I've become a bit picky it would seem in my late twenties. After quite a number of dates since I've been single I'm starting to lose faith - the guys who ask me out are never the ones I'm interested in, don't get me wrong, some of them are lovely guys but they don't tend to tick the right boxes for me- and of course as sods law would have it, the ones that you do want to ask you don't!!!
Now I do have a type, I didn't think I did until I realised that all the men I seem to go for look scarily alike! I was quite alarmed when I realised this - I've always gone for the pretty boy type but unfortunately those pretty boys tend to have egos the size of Norway (or somewhere else that's pretty big!!!!). It got me thinking that maybe I should change my type - and is that possible?
I'm starting to sway towards the idea of a big rugged MANLY man, someone who'll pick me up and carry me home after too many wine spritzers, then put up a few shelves and re-hinge the bathroom door before bed! I want a man who'll go to play rugby on a Sunday morning and then return home to cook me up a roast dinner and top up my wine glass as soon as is half empty - not swig his Fosters can, burp loudly and then scratch his arse like so many men!
But where do you meet such a man? I don't imagine they hang around in the cocktail bars me and my friends frequent to drinking Mojitos and commenting on the decor! They're more than likely rustling up a BBQ (that they built themselves) or in B&Q buying new power tools and drill bits!
From now on I'm on the look out for a proper man - one who makes me feel ladylike and dainty and what you see is what you get. No more men who straighten their hair and go to tantastic every weekend, not someone who's idea of a top weekend is to see how much he can drink before he throws up and is intent on seeing how many girls he can snog for the sake of it - come on boys, its not just the ladies who need to show a bit of class from time to time!
So next time I'm in B&Q buying my anti freeze - the only thing I can think I would possibly go in there for, I might pay a little more attention..... would skinny jeans and kitten heels look totally inappropriate in there????
Dating is a funny game, you meet with a stranger, talk about your life story and then argue over who pays the bill. Then there's the whole arranging a next date or having to avoid the subject if you don't want a repeat, and then the goodnight kiss -urgh, awful! Then you either wait for them to call - or pray for them not to if your not interested! Its no wonder there's so many books written about it!
Actually getting a date in the first place can be quite tricky, I've become a bit picky it would seem in my late twenties. After quite a number of dates since I've been single I'm starting to lose faith - the guys who ask me out are never the ones I'm interested in, don't get me wrong, some of them are lovely guys but they don't tend to tick the right boxes for me- and of course as sods law would have it, the ones that you do want to ask you don't!!!
Now I do have a type, I didn't think I did until I realised that all the men I seem to go for look scarily alike! I was quite alarmed when I realised this - I've always gone for the pretty boy type but unfortunately those pretty boys tend to have egos the size of Norway (or somewhere else that's pretty big!!!!). It got me thinking that maybe I should change my type - and is that possible?
I'm starting to sway towards the idea of a big rugged MANLY man, someone who'll pick me up and carry me home after too many wine spritzers, then put up a few shelves and re-hinge the bathroom door before bed! I want a man who'll go to play rugby on a Sunday morning and then return home to cook me up a roast dinner and top up my wine glass as soon as is half empty - not swig his Fosters can, burp loudly and then scratch his arse like so many men!
But where do you meet such a man? I don't imagine they hang around in the cocktail bars me and my friends frequent to drinking Mojitos and commenting on the decor! They're more than likely rustling up a BBQ (that they built themselves) or in B&Q buying new power tools and drill bits!
From now on I'm on the look out for a proper man - one who makes me feel ladylike and dainty and what you see is what you get. No more men who straighten their hair and go to tantastic every weekend, not someone who's idea of a top weekend is to see how much he can drink before he throws up and is intent on seeing how many girls he can snog for the sake of it - come on boys, its not just the ladies who need to show a bit of class from time to time!
So next time I'm in B&Q buying my anti freeze - the only thing I can think I would possibly go in there for, I might pay a little more attention..... would skinny jeans and kitten heels look totally inappropriate in there????
Sunday, 13 May 2007
My friends....I'd be nothing without them!
I've been thinking alot recently about friendships and the people in my life. When my last relationship ended I really thought I'd never get over it and the gap in my life would be too large to fill but I've really surprised myself in the last few months.
Its true that in testing times you really do discover who your true friends are and recently I've realised how damn lucky I am and that without these friends in my life, I really don't know how I'd have coped.
My friends are the most important part of my life and I do love them whole heartedly. When I'm feeling down they pick me up, when I want a good night out they're ready and raring to go, if I need a good talking to they'll give it to me straight, and if I've had a fashion crisis they'll say "oh lady no"!!!!
So although break ups are hard and its been a bumpy ride, I've also had some amazing times, some of my best in years in fact! I'm in no hurry to get into a relationship, I'm not sure where I'd find the time and I'm not giving up my girly nights out for anyone. So sure, we do spend much of our time slagging off men, joking about recent bad dates (and sometimes good dates!), or even men we've met that seemed to be just lovely and keen but turned out to be complete weirdos - girls take note, never go on a date with a footballer!!! - but ultimately we have a fantastic time. We know each another so well and we never have a bad time together.
So me and one of the girls were talking the other day, we're both single and have been through a lot together recently and we realised something. Why do we chase the idea of meeting a man when our lives are so full anyway right now? Why does the notion of 'soul mate' have to apply to a boyfriend? Why have we been instilled to think that meeting a man will complete our lives? I have everything I need without one. We tell each other how fabulous we are all the time, we confide in each other about everything, we're in contact everyday and know exactly what is going on in each others lives, and we tell each other we love them on a regular basis. When I think about my friends I smile, I look forward to seeing them, even if its only been a few days, I feel totally relaxed and at ease in their company and I know I can get through anything life throws at me with them in my life.
So yes, this is a slightly sentimental posting but its something that is very close to my heart. I recently went to a training session with work and as an introduction exercise we had to choose from a pile of pictures and postcards one which appealed to us and represented us in some way. I chose one that was covered in lips - all in different chatty expressions. You then had to present to the group about why it represented you and they had to monitor your body language and analyse the words you use. I spoke about being a chatterbox and how communication was of huge importance to me, I spoke about my friends and my family and what made me tick. When they gave me the feedback it was a real eye opener. Apparently when I spoke about my friends I used the words 'fabulous', 'incredible', 'absolutely' and 'fantastic' and I put my hands on my heart and often put my hands in a prayer position (and I never pray!). I was told I spoke passionately and honestly and I wish my friends had been there to see it!!!!
So really the moral to this story is, never neglect your friends. Men (and women) will come and go but your friends are always there and they help shape us all. Mine are the true loves of my life and they are so important to me. So away with the notion of soul mates only being in partners, here's to friends being the new soul mates, men can be used for occasional dating and the obvious, friends are for everything else.
I love you.................you are all totally fabulous!
Its true that in testing times you really do discover who your true friends are and recently I've realised how damn lucky I am and that without these friends in my life, I really don't know how I'd have coped.
My friends are the most important part of my life and I do love them whole heartedly. When I'm feeling down they pick me up, when I want a good night out they're ready and raring to go, if I need a good talking to they'll give it to me straight, and if I've had a fashion crisis they'll say "oh lady no"!!!!
So although break ups are hard and its been a bumpy ride, I've also had some amazing times, some of my best in years in fact! I'm in no hurry to get into a relationship, I'm not sure where I'd find the time and I'm not giving up my girly nights out for anyone. So sure, we do spend much of our time slagging off men, joking about recent bad dates (and sometimes good dates!), or even men we've met that seemed to be just lovely and keen but turned out to be complete weirdos - girls take note, never go on a date with a footballer!!! - but ultimately we have a fantastic time. We know each another so well and we never have a bad time together.
So me and one of the girls were talking the other day, we're both single and have been through a lot together recently and we realised something. Why do we chase the idea of meeting a man when our lives are so full anyway right now? Why does the notion of 'soul mate' have to apply to a boyfriend? Why have we been instilled to think that meeting a man will complete our lives? I have everything I need without one. We tell each other how fabulous we are all the time, we confide in each other about everything, we're in contact everyday and know exactly what is going on in each others lives, and we tell each other we love them on a regular basis. When I think about my friends I smile, I look forward to seeing them, even if its only been a few days, I feel totally relaxed and at ease in their company and I know I can get through anything life throws at me with them in my life.
So yes, this is a slightly sentimental posting but its something that is very close to my heart. I recently went to a training session with work and as an introduction exercise we had to choose from a pile of pictures and postcards one which appealed to us and represented us in some way. I chose one that was covered in lips - all in different chatty expressions. You then had to present to the group about why it represented you and they had to monitor your body language and analyse the words you use. I spoke about being a chatterbox and how communication was of huge importance to me, I spoke about my friends and my family and what made me tick. When they gave me the feedback it was a real eye opener. Apparently when I spoke about my friends I used the words 'fabulous', 'incredible', 'absolutely' and 'fantastic' and I put my hands on my heart and often put my hands in a prayer position (and I never pray!). I was told I spoke passionately and honestly and I wish my friends had been there to see it!!!!
So really the moral to this story is, never neglect your friends. Men (and women) will come and go but your friends are always there and they help shape us all. Mine are the true loves of my life and they are so important to me. So away with the notion of soul mates only being in partners, here's to friends being the new soul mates, men can be used for occasional dating and the obvious, friends are for everything else.
I love you.................you are all totally fabulous!
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
Another boozy night out!
So another Bank Holiday weekend over and, dear lord, I think I better start looking into liver replacements coz this one can't have many years left in it!!!!
Saturday night we went out to celebrate a mates birthday, we knew it'd be a drunken affair....it always is when us lot get together! So we start the night in a classy bar, sober and respectable! The next thing, my mate pulls out a miniature bottle of whiskey from her handbag and pours it into her (already large) glass of whiskey! Her bag had seemed heavy - and it explains the clunking noise that was coming from her on the way to the bar!
"Well it costs a bloody arm and a leg in here....I thought I'd bring my own"
After deciding that some cheap drinks were in order we battled over to the cheapest bar in town.... so we stuck to the carpet a bit and there was vomit by the fruit machine...who cares, with triples for £3 its a result!!!!
So the alcohol was flowing and the conversations and laughter got louder and louder, the birthday boys eyes were getting glassy and the sugar from the alcohol shots were giving everyone an E number frenzy!!! The night was in full swing!
So we moved on to a cocktail bar - now I make that sound posh but really all we wanted was cheap Sex on the Beach (Ooeer!) and some Tequila Sunrise so where better than Cucamara...if you want to get drunk, that's your place! We'd only been in there 5 minutes when one of our party threw up all over the floor! As he turned to us to finish his drink and wipe his mouth some poor unsuspecting bloke skidded in the whole lot....we shouldn't laugh, but oh we did!!!! I knew I shouldn't have bought him that last WKD!
Now anyone that's been on a night out with us nutty lot will know that as far as conversations go on our nights out, nothing is out of bounds, so when one of the ladies started talking about transvestite porn I think a few of the less regulars got confused and a little disgusted....poor girl suddenly found herself stood alone with people whispering and pointing in her direction. They failed to hear the beginning of the conversation, she was merely talking about an email someone had one sent her that got her in heaps of trouble- but bless, she was branded as a weird sex fiend for the rest of the evening! And don't get me started on the cleavage obsession that then started!
So as the night went on it became clear that birthday boy was VERY DRUNK - he gave it away by announcing every 3 minutes that;
"I'm veeeeerry drrrrunk, have I told you all I love you and that I'm veeeerry drruuunnk"
So what to do but go for a 2am curry!
As 10 of us piled into the local curry house you could see the faces of the waiters fall - 'bloody hell, I'll never get home now with this lot'. Birthday boy ordered 2 beers (both for himself - one which we had to confiscate!) and everyone concentrated hard on the menus - probably because the alcohol had made our eye sights a little hazy and everything appeared to be printed in double and italics!
We attacked the food like it was our last meal but low and behold the birthday boy ended up with his head in his plate fast asleep - but would occasionally wake up to say;
"waiter can I have another beer.....I'm veerrryyy drrruuuunnk"!!!
So we ordered taxis and eventually, to the sigh of relief by the waiters, made our way home.
As we said our goodbyes we asked the birthday boy, who was now being held up by his exasperated fiancee (bless ya honey), if he'd had a good night
"Oh yes.....
..........................but i'm veeeerrrrryyyyy druuunnnkk"!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday night we went out to celebrate a mates birthday, we knew it'd be a drunken affair....it always is when us lot get together! So we start the night in a classy bar, sober and respectable! The next thing, my mate pulls out a miniature bottle of whiskey from her handbag and pours it into her (already large) glass of whiskey! Her bag had seemed heavy - and it explains the clunking noise that was coming from her on the way to the bar!
"Well it costs a bloody arm and a leg in here....I thought I'd bring my own"
After deciding that some cheap drinks were in order we battled over to the cheapest bar in town.... so we stuck to the carpet a bit and there was vomit by the fruit machine...who cares, with triples for £3 its a result!!!!
So the alcohol was flowing and the conversations and laughter got louder and louder, the birthday boys eyes were getting glassy and the sugar from the alcohol shots were giving everyone an E number frenzy!!! The night was in full swing!
So we moved on to a cocktail bar - now I make that sound posh but really all we wanted was cheap Sex on the Beach (Ooeer!) and some Tequila Sunrise so where better than Cucamara...if you want to get drunk, that's your place! We'd only been in there 5 minutes when one of our party threw up all over the floor! As he turned to us to finish his drink and wipe his mouth some poor unsuspecting bloke skidded in the whole lot....we shouldn't laugh, but oh we did!!!! I knew I shouldn't have bought him that last WKD!
Now anyone that's been on a night out with us nutty lot will know that as far as conversations go on our nights out, nothing is out of bounds, so when one of the ladies started talking about transvestite porn I think a few of the less regulars got confused and a little disgusted....poor girl suddenly found herself stood alone with people whispering and pointing in her direction. They failed to hear the beginning of the conversation, she was merely talking about an email someone had one sent her that got her in heaps of trouble- but bless, she was branded as a weird sex fiend for the rest of the evening! And don't get me started on the cleavage obsession that then started!
So as the night went on it became clear that birthday boy was VERY DRUNK - he gave it away by announcing every 3 minutes that;
"I'm veeeeerry drrrrunk, have I told you all I love you and that I'm veeeerry drruuunnk"
So what to do but go for a 2am curry!
As 10 of us piled into the local curry house you could see the faces of the waiters fall - 'bloody hell, I'll never get home now with this lot'. Birthday boy ordered 2 beers (both for himself - one which we had to confiscate!) and everyone concentrated hard on the menus - probably because the alcohol had made our eye sights a little hazy and everything appeared to be printed in double and italics!
We attacked the food like it was our last meal but low and behold the birthday boy ended up with his head in his plate fast asleep - but would occasionally wake up to say;
"waiter can I have another beer.....I'm veerrryyy drrruuuunnk"!!!
So we ordered taxis and eventually, to the sigh of relief by the waiters, made our way home.
As we said our goodbyes we asked the birthday boy, who was now being held up by his exasperated fiancee (bless ya honey), if he'd had a good night
"Oh yes.....
..........................but i'm veeeerrrrryyyyy druuunnnkk"!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, 7 May 2007
Thursday, 26 April 2007
In at the deep end!
So after a rather long road of job hunting...I finally got offered a new role!!!
After a few weeks off - and many lovely lie ins - I embarked on a new journey on Monday - and boy do I have lots to learn!!!
I woke on Monday and put on my freshly pressed suit - after working in a company that operated a casual dress policy I felt a bit like I was putting on my new school uniform (no comments boys) ready to go to big school. Will the big kids like me? Will they steal my lunch money or make me undergo some weird initiative training to test me? Luckily none of the above occured but I was so nervous as I walked into my new office for the first time. I had to do the usual introductions;
"Hello, I'm Polly Tronic and I'm an alcoholic"
Oops, wrong meeting!!!!
Anyway, the rest of the week has passed in a blur - I've gone "HUH" alot and stared blankly at lots of people. I've said "I'm sorry, can you just run through that again" quite a lot and I've come home most evenings thinking 'oh dear lord, what have I done' but on a whole all is going well and despite the above, I'm feeling positive!
But it dawned on me...how long in a new role do you have to be on your best behaviour for? A week? A month? The whole duration of your employment? Anyone who has ever worked with me (and you all know who you are because the majority of you are now close friends, drinking partners, confidants and general all round rocks) knows that I'm pretty much the same in and out of work - although a little more responsible and occasionally sensible in the office...sometimes!
I've always been ambitious, always wanted the best I can get and wanted to offer the best I can but over the last 6 months I kind of lost my way. I was in a job that wasn't inspiring me, I let a few personal issues cloud my efficiency and I was basically bored. My work was no longer stimulating and it posed no challenge so to be faced with this incredibly steep learning curve is actually a huge positive in my life. I miss the people I worked with of course - some much more than others - and I miss my 'celebrity gossip' mate - who has also been my shoulder to cry on, moan on,laugh on, bitch on......etc etc but I'm hoping I'll find that in my new place - I'm a strong believer in building strong working relationships - work has to be enjoyable and fun as well as productive!!! Its true that you spent more time at work than you do with your friends, family or other halves - you just don't have to wash your colleagues socks or remind them to put the bin out!
So I need to join the tea rota, I must remember who takes it decaf, no sugar - who takes the full fat with 3 sugars and who just drinks tea and coffee every 20 minutes so needs their drip feeding every time you walk past the kettle - like I said, so much to learn!
'Workin' 9 to 5,
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin' and no givin'
They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you crazy
If you let it
9 to 5, for service and devotion
You would think that I
Would deserve a fat promotion
Want to move ahead
But the boss won't seem to let me
I swear sometimes that man is out to get me'
After a few weeks off - and many lovely lie ins - I embarked on a new journey on Monday - and boy do I have lots to learn!!!
I woke on Monday and put on my freshly pressed suit - after working in a company that operated a casual dress policy I felt a bit like I was putting on my new school uniform (no comments boys) ready to go to big school. Will the big kids like me? Will they steal my lunch money or make me undergo some weird initiative training to test me? Luckily none of the above occured but I was so nervous as I walked into my new office for the first time. I had to do the usual introductions;
"Hello, I'm Polly Tronic and I'm an alcoholic"
Oops, wrong meeting!!!!
Anyway, the rest of the week has passed in a blur - I've gone "HUH" alot and stared blankly at lots of people. I've said "I'm sorry, can you just run through that again" quite a lot and I've come home most evenings thinking 'oh dear lord, what have I done' but on a whole all is going well and despite the above, I'm feeling positive!
But it dawned on me...how long in a new role do you have to be on your best behaviour for? A week? A month? The whole duration of your employment? Anyone who has ever worked with me (and you all know who you are because the majority of you are now close friends, drinking partners, confidants and general all round rocks) knows that I'm pretty much the same in and out of work - although a little more responsible and occasionally sensible in the office...sometimes!
I've always been ambitious, always wanted the best I can get and wanted to offer the best I can but over the last 6 months I kind of lost my way. I was in a job that wasn't inspiring me, I let a few personal issues cloud my efficiency and I was basically bored. My work was no longer stimulating and it posed no challenge so to be faced with this incredibly steep learning curve is actually a huge positive in my life. I miss the people I worked with of course - some much more than others - and I miss my 'celebrity gossip' mate - who has also been my shoulder to cry on, moan on,laugh on, bitch on......etc etc but I'm hoping I'll find that in my new place - I'm a strong believer in building strong working relationships - work has to be enjoyable and fun as well as productive!!! Its true that you spent more time at work than you do with your friends, family or other halves - you just don't have to wash your colleagues socks or remind them to put the bin out!
So I need to join the tea rota, I must remember who takes it decaf, no sugar - who takes the full fat with 3 sugars and who just drinks tea and coffee every 20 minutes so needs their drip feeding every time you walk past the kettle - like I said, so much to learn!
'Workin' 9 to 5,
What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's all takin' and no givin'
They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you crazy
If you let it
9 to 5, for service and devotion
You would think that I
Would deserve a fat promotion
Want to move ahead
But the boss won't seem to let me
I swear sometimes that man is out to get me'
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