Thursday, 27 June 2013


Right now, internally, I'm having a massive freak out, and thought a good way to deal with this would be to channel it into something productive-hence why I'm furiously scribbling down this blog post instead of going 'AAAAAH' and running about like a crazy person.
I've been thoroughly blind-sided by something from my (fairly) recent past that my brain is currently refusing to process in a manner which is helpful to me. So I'm telling you about it instead.

I was searching through my old emails for specific ones relating to a purchase I made a bit ago so I could look up some information. I typed the name of the shop 'Past Times' into the search bar and when the results came up I just clicked on the first one and scrolled through each email looking for the one I wanted. Clearly my computer was pulling a funny and decided that I needed to be reminded of some 'Past Times' of my own because in the middle of these emails, for no reason I could see, was a somewhat personal email conversation between me and my ex from a couple of years ago. And for some reason, even once I'd registered that what I was reading was definitely not what I was looking for, I carried on and read the whole exchange. Then promptly began freaking out.

In the context of a relationship, they were perfectly normal emails-a little bit of naughty flirting, a few complements and 'I miss you's and lots of 'I love you's. I can totally understand why I chose to keep the emails at the time-I'm a bit of a sentimental bugger and like to keep nice things like that to read from time to time. But in the context of that person being my ex-boyfriend, someone who no longer features in my life in any way, they freaked me the fuck out. Why? Because I'd forgotten that's how we used to be. I'd forgotten that there was ever a time where our relationship was pretty healthy and functioning normally, when we said 'I Love You' and meant it, when we complemented each others and when we just had fun together. It's so easy when you break up with someone to just remember the bad stuff and every time they acted like a dick-you just put all the good stuff to the back of your mind, out of the way so you don't think about them any more. I guess it's a subconscious coping mechanism, an act of self preservation-it's easier to stop being hurt by someone if you think of them as a horrible person, not a wonderful one. And for the most part it's a good tactic because it works-I've moved on from that relationship totally and more importantly put myself back together again. Seeing those emails so unexpectedly was like a slap in the face-an unwanted reminder that what we used to have was a good thing once, that there was a reason I fell for him in the first place, that he's not all bad, that there was a reason that I was so heartbroken when we ended.

So is there a lesson in all of this, now that my heartbeat has returned to normal and I'm no longer screaming inside my skull?
Well I guess I should cut my ex some slack sometimes, because he did love me once (and I, him). Sure, that doesn't change the stuff he did at the end and doesn't mean he wasn't a bit of a dick too, but he wasn't always one. I think that's something important for me to remember. I hope that he and his new girlfriend can be as happy as we were, once.

I've also learned that it's prudent to delete all your old emails from exes straight away, so you don't end up in some awkward slap-you-in-the-face-with-memories situation down the line.
With that, I'm off to Spring clean my inbox once and for all!


Tuesday, 25 June 2013

30 Posts of Truth-Part 11

I've missed a couple of Sundays posting these, so I thought I'd get this one up today instead, for want of other inspiration!

11. Something People Seem To Complement You The Most On

I had a thought about this and came up with T-Shirts, Socks and Earrings-basically because I wear awesome ones. I didn't want to do a whole post on that though, so I had another thought, and then it hit me, I knew exactly what this post should be about. 

I started blogging in 2011 basically because my best friend had a blog and I liked reading it. I've always loved writing and just decided that this was something I'd enjoy. This blog is actually the second one I started because I wanted to be able to do something a little different to what I started out doing. One day I just decided to share my blog posts on Facebook and suddenly my friends started talking to me about them-so I'm really glad I did. So many people have commented to me about my blog-people I barely know and people I know really well. It is by far the thing I get the most compliments about and I'm always really happy when I do. It means a lot to me that people actually take the time to read my posts, to enjoy them and to tell me that they did. It's the reason I keep it going, the reason I always feel guilty for neglecting it and the reason I will always come back to blogging no matter how long a hiatus I take from it. All of us in this blogosphere are just blurting out our words into a tiny corner of the internet hoping someone will read them-and it makes it a million times better when people do.

So if you're reading this right now, you're awesome. If you're one of the people who have ever told me you enjoy reading my blog then you're one of the reasons I'm still here, still blogging. You guys make it for me, and I thank you so much for every comment, every criticism, every time you read the posts I put out. I'll keep the posts coming as long as you keep enjoying them!


Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Awesome Things Part V

I'm reviving this series of little things that make your day because I feel that sometimes it's just really lovely to reflect on the little things in life.

-Happy bus drivers/train conductors
You know the sort-the ones who whistle and sing and smile. The ones who stop to chat to you and don't glare at you as if they're wasting your time. The ones who make your journey a little bit brighter, or make your day start a little better just because they're really happy and jolly and it's infectious. The ones who have hole punches in novelty shapes, just because they can:

Why yes, that is my full name...

-Predicting the end of a (good) book
I could add 'film' on there too, but I think a lot of film/tv series endings are so inevitable you don't have to try though. Books though, are different somehow-it's harder to get it right because the plot can trip you up when you're least expecting it. I love it when I guess who's the murderer or who's going to fall in love with who or just how it's going to end, it makes me feel like I've got one up on the author. But actually it's just as good when I'm convinced I know whodunnit and then they go and pull the rug out from under your feet and take it in a different direction to the one you were expecting altogether. 

-Being in people's profile picture
One for the modern era, this, and I know some people will disagree. But I think it's always a nice feeling when someone chooses a photo of you as their profile pic-it's like they're saying "this is me and a person/some people I love" which is a great feeling. 

-When you introduce someone to something you love and they love it too
I'm always wary of introducing my friends to things I'm really passionate about because it always kinda sucks when they just don't understand why you love it so much. Whether it's music/books/tv/films it's a bit deflating when they thought it was just OK. But when they love it as much as you it's brilliant-you can enjoy it together by discussing every episode/having epic listening sessions/quoting along to the movie together etc etc. It's fab!

-Finding a pair of heels that are incredibly comfortable
Everyone (well, the ladies at least) knows the pain of heels-and it's always worse when they're incredibly beautiful shoes but too painful to wear (aka 'restaurant heels' to me) so they just gather dust. It's a rare thing when you find a pair of heels that look good but also feel good too-but isn't it an amazing when it happens? I bought a new pair of wedges recently and they were SO comfy I walked 2miles home in them and didn't have sore feet afterwards-basically they're brilliant. Now just to buy one pair in every colour, ey?

That's all for today, but I'm going to try and get back to posting one of these a month, because sometimes you just need to appreciate those awesome little things, don't you?


Previous instalments:

Sunday, 16 June 2013

To Every Man I've Ever Kissed, Part 2

[Source-Open Clip Art Library]
This is the (considerably shorter) half of this two part blog. You can read part 1 here if you want to read it , which covers right from when I was 6 to when I was 18. This one picks up where that one ended, and takes me right up to today, and was the harder half to write for sure. But then again it would be, because it's covering my most recent ex-a tale you've all heard before and one I'm doing my best not to dwell on too much any more. Succeeding mostly too.
Here's part two then:

To My Second Love;
It’s weird, I can’t remember our first kiss at all-I was still with Mr. #1 (though by this stage I don’t really know why) and it evolved as a goodbye peck on the lips-how I hadn't clicked that I majorly had the hots for you by then I just don't know. I remember the first proper ones though-I remember nearly everything about ‘Superhero Night’ actually, although I bet you've forgotten every detail. I remember holding the curtain open to let the moonlight illuminate your face and realising just how much I liked you, and that I didn’t feel guilty about it. It was finally time for me to let go of Mr. #1 and you became Mr. #2 not too much longer afterwards.
I always liked your kisses, they weren't slobbery, or sticky, and you weren't miserly with them but happy to give me as many as I wanted and take as many in return. When you used to send me goodnight texts with lots of xs on I'd joke that I actually wanted that many when I saw you again-and you always obliged. We were sickeningly sweet behind closed doors, although I doubt many of our friends would have guessed because we were never really affectionate in public-something which I didn't actually mind too much at all.
I can still remember our last kiss-I remember the ending as clearly as the beginning actually. It was a day full of emotions and tears and heartbreak on both sides. At the end you left and I remained collapsed on the bed, utterly broken. I heard your footsteps over my head as you walked out of my house and then I ran after you, wanting to kiss you goodbye just one more time. It was a fleeting kiss, as you stood on my doorstep for the last time, and it tasted of tears but I'm glad we had it because it was the final full stop on the final page of our book, and I really needed that.
Heartbroken, I may have been, but I'm thankful that we ended things properly. Even though that wasn't the last time I ever saw you, in my head it was the ending of everything I knew at the time so I'm grateful to have a good memory to look back on, really. I can forget everything after that, because you’d already moved on anyway, but that kiss was the last moment you were ever mine.

To Mr. Next, Whoever You May Be;
I've imagined how our first kiss will go a hundred times (although you don’t actually have a face in my mind yet) but I know it won’t turn out like that, really. I'm going to be so nervous and feel incredibly sick and it’s going to be awful.  It will be my first ‘first kiss’ for at least 4 years so I'm not really going to know what to do with myself. I'll be horrendously under confident and shy and basically wishing you would do all the work so I don't have to. I apologise in advance if I bash my teeth into yours or turn my head the wrong way or can't actually look at you at all because our faces are so close and I want to kiss you but just can't. I’ll be nervous and jittery and undoubtedly a bit crap-it's been a while, I've sort of forgotten what I'm supposed to do and how it all works. I'm hoping it will all come back to me after that first time, but you might need to remind me a little. I just hope you’re understanding, and kind, and laugh with me when things go a bit wrong rather than letting it make things even more awkward. I'm looking forward to it (and am terrified about it) already. Now come and find me already, I'm getting impatient!


Saturday, 15 June 2013

To Every Man I've Ever Kissed Part 1

[Source-Open Clip Art Library]
I've been a bit neglectful of my blog recently, but that's because not much has been happening to me and also because the things that have been happening to me I don't want to (or can't) blog about yet. I read a similar one of these posts on Thought Catalogue and really liked the idea so thought I'd do one of my own. Things are going to get personal and I do hope you won't judge me too harshly-believe me I've spent enough time doing that to myself. It's in two parts basically coz it's really long, which is surprising (for me) given that it only talks about 5ish people.
Here we go then, a letter to every man I've ever kissed, part 1:

To the very, very first;
We were in school together and you always let me catch you when we played kiss-chase. We were “boyfriend and girlfriend” for all of infant school and probably entirely too adorable too.
I saw you, not too long ago actually, on a bus. You clearly had no idea who I was but I remembered because I never forget a face and had to smile to myself. You have a weird accent now (I would guess from uni?) but your voice is still the same. You smoked a cigarette at the bus stop-eugh, lucky escape.

To my first, proper kiss;
I was 14ish and miserable because all my close friends had boyfriends and that was everything I really wanted. You were 17ish (I think) and we met at Explorers (Scouts). I can’t remember all the intricacies but I remember the first kiss. We were sat on your bed watching Futurama and we kissed for hours. I have to confess it wasn’t the best kiss in the world-there was a lot of slobber. I kept reapplying my lip balm because you were drying my lips out and you hated the texture. To this day I still don’t really like saliva and I hear you still hate Vaseline too-fair’s fair I guess.
I’m sorry that I wasn’t the person you wanted me to be-but I was just a teenager who wanted to be wanted-I had no idea what love was, not then. I can only hope your kissing technique has improved by now though.

To my first love;
We were too cute together, I’m sure. So chronically nervous about admitting our feelings to each other that my friend gave you her phone so you could text me to ask me out. Your hands were too big for the tiny buttons, so in the end she did it for you-an unorthodox start, I'll admit. I texted back my response and that was it, we were a couple. We spent a lot of time nuzzling and snuggling and probably being incredibly insensitive and ignorant to our friends. Your stubble used to mess my hair up when you rested your chin on my head (ever after known as the Velcro Effect) but I was too smitten to care. I remember one time when it started raining really suddenly when we were in town-everyone else scattered for cover but we stood kissing in the middle of the downpour like we had just stepped straight out of a film or something.
Honestly though, I can’t really remember what your kisses felt like. Towards the end of our relationship we stopped doing anything other than a swift peck on the lips and I remember missing those times at the start when we just used to kiss for hours and hours. Basically we just slowly unravelled to the point where we didn’t know each other anymore and no amount of pretending would save us. I’m sort of sad to say I can’t even remember our last kiss.

To Mr. Intermediate;
I can still remember what I said to you after you first kissed me: “Well if someone had been watching us all morning they’d be cheering now we’ve finally kissed!”-it did feel pretty inevitable. And of course, we shouldn’t have and I felt bad for doing so-but that didn’t stop me doing it again. I was pretty conflicted at this point-Mr. First Love and I were falling apart at the seams and I was so starved of affection that flirting with you, kissing you, seemed like a good idea at the time. You said all the things that I desperately wanted to hear and I just gave in to that in the end. I was terrified of losing him, of having to learn to be on my own, even with my lips glued (literally, they were quite sticky kisses...) to another man’s face I still thought I loved him and couldn’t be without him. I know you wanted me desperately and would have been mine in a second if I’d asked, but I have to confess I’m not sure I ever, properly, wanted you. 
We spent maybe 6, 9 months sneaking around and kissing illicitly and I started to hate myself more and more-I didn’t like the person you were turning me into.  I can’t remember when we stopped, or why, but my crushing sense of guilt probably had a lot to do with it.
We tried to stay friends but you wanted me all to yourself and I wasn’t prepared to give that, so we parted ways, none too amicably either.
For a while, you were my only (big) regret but now I’ve given up on that-I’d rather think that everything that’s happened in the past has helped to make me who I am today. At the time, I needed it, because it paved the way for what was to happen next. 

And you'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out what that was, sorry.


Wednesday, 5 June 2013

A Fancy Sort Of Confession

Now I am about to reveal something to you that may surprise you a little, if you know me at all (or read my blog often enough to pretend that you do.) Hold on to your hats, folks, it's a shocker.
I have been a student, and a teenager. I love to go on stage and spend a lot of time in very silly costumes of one variety of another. I have even worn a beard in the interest of performing and have included a picture for your pleasure (because I know you were all dying to see it). I'm largely unafraid of making a fool of myself in most situations, but that is not the the thing that I have to confess, because you should all have realised this by now.
No, what I have to say is this:

I'm not very good at fancy dress.

I'd go so far as to say I'm completely and totally pants at it. I either always over think things and end up as something that no-one recognises and I have to spend the whole night explaining it to people, or I try so hard to be different and do something that no-one else will think of that I end up as something that no-one recognises and I have to spend the whole night explaining it to people, or I don't really know how to make the theme work for me so I end up as something that no-one recognises and I have to spend the whole night explaining it to people.

I mean take the last time I did anything to celebrate Halloween. I had a thought about it and didn't want to do any of the usual stuff-witches, vampires, pumpkins etc. I thought I'd be clever and go as 'Death on Holiday' (I might have been reading too much Pratchett at the time...). My other-half-at-the-time made me an excellent anatomically correct skeleton T-shirt with ribs and bones drawn on. was anatomically correct until I put it on and suddenly my skeleton grew...protuberances. I teamed this with a Scythe and a grass skirt and would have had facepaint too had it not made my skin feel like it was melting off. I felt so cool and unique. I spent all evening explaining what the hell I had come as and felt like an idiot. That is the best picture I could find (after much Facebook searching.) Yes I have a zombie hand on my boob, sorry, ribs. It's just not worth questioning these things any more.

Then there was the occasion that I decided that people should come to my birthday dressed as their favourite musical characters. This was, admittedly, not a sensible option, not everyone likes musicals and apart from obvious things like 'Grease' or 'Cats' people are probably not going to be able to recognise you.
What did I dress as? A bohemian. From We Will Rock You. Only I didn't have anything skimpy enough or leathery enough or covered in studs enough. Basically I just wore odd clothes and bright makeup. It probably didn't work. I also spent all evening pointing out to people what I was. Again.

Then there was the time my friend had a "cartoon" themed birthday. See if you can guess who I was-big pigtails with purple ribbons, short purple dress, orange sleeves and hideous blue and green tights. I even had purple shoes. I thought I'd nailed it this time, there was no way people wouldn't know who I was, right?
WRONG. I had to spend all night explaining that I was Angelica from the Rugrats-I even had a Cynthia (apparently the actual one wasn't really naked but hey ho).

I am so done with fancy dress. I'm not even sure I like it that much any way. I'm not completely against it by any means, I don't hate and loathe it like some people, but I'm just a bit 'meh' about it. Yeah, it's kind of fun when you're all in a big group together looking a bit mad. When you're on the bus, or in the queue for the loo, or at the bar you look a bit weird, and not in the good way. And it's so much effort and for what? For people to not know who you are, for someone to always have made a tonne more effort than you did and look a million times more amazing, for someone to have gone out and cheated by hiring a proper costume from a costume shop. For strange looks and comments and for people to just not get it. I'm tired of it.

We've had a good run, fancy dress and I, I had lots of fancy dress birthday parties as a child, and had lots of fun with them, I've tried a lot as an adult and had less success. But I think we should amicably part ways here. I'm just not that into you, fancy dress, it's not you, it's me, I just don't like you enough any more, I think (shock horror) I might have outgrown you a little. Sorry I'm not sorry.


And for your enjoyment, and because I didn't want to spam you with too many pictures, here's a slide show of some more of my fancy dress win/fails. Mostly fails, let's face it. There are many more than this, but I can't find pictorial evidence of them any more =( (I have spent a LOT of time scouring FB today for you folks, hope you appreciate it!)

Monday, 3 June 2013

"It's All About Popular"

[From the Discover Ireland FB page]
I recently got through to the final stages of a competition to win a trip to Ireland, which I was pretty excited about-until I discovered that the winner was going to be chosen by Facebook vote and then I was a lot less so. I knew pretty much right away that I wasn't going to win it simply because by making it open to Facebook, it becomes a popularity contest-and I have never been what you would call popular. There was a time that I did want to fit in, wanted to be cool and wanted all the popular kids to like me, accept me as one of them, but eventually I realised that this was never going to happen. I started embracing my uniqueness, trying to make a point of standing out, actively seeking to be different and not one of the crowd, to be anything but popular. I mean if it's going to happen anyway you might as well make it your own, right?

Also, I use Facebook as a convenient place to keep all my friends together for when I need to tell them something important, but most people seem to use it as a way of collecting as many "friends" as they possibly can-almost as a way of proving how popular they are. I know everyone on my friend list and regularly have culls to delete those people I no longer really speak to any more. Against someone who has 3x more virtual buddies than me, I was never going to be able to hold my own.

I also noticed that the "competition" was really bringing out the nasty side in people-right from the start there was a couple-let's call them Couple 1-that I had a particular dislike for just because they came across as pushy and unpleasant, like they knew they were going to win anyway so it didn't matter if the rest of us tried or not. Before the ballot had even been opened they put out a plea for votes from the site's fans in a manner that just got my back up-but also in a way that had I replied to it I would have either seemed unoriginal or catty. Suddenly I minded losing to them, would rather any other pair won just so they didn't.

About half way through another pair-let's call them Couple 2-got a sudden upsurge in votes, overtaking Couple 1 (who had been leading right from day 1) by a considerable amount. Couple 1 started accusing them of cheating-of buying votes and clamouring for the votes to be investigated by the site. It just reeked of being a sore loser and that they didn't think anyone else should win but them. It almost felt like if you weren't playing dirty in some way then you couldn't win-Couple 1 had amassed over 120 votes in the first day alone while the rest of us were somewhere around the 20-70 mark and I think we basically all knew we didn't stand a chance against them. Whatever tactics they were using obviously worked because (of course) they won with 571 votes-the next nearest couple had 415. We were third and had 154 votes so it's not even like we had a shot any way. Couple 1 seemed really ungracious and I just really didn't want them to win because they don't come across as very nice people. (Although I am judging this solely on the comments I saw on the poll from them, so what do I know?)

The whole "competition" caused a lot of nastiness and bitterness, and for what? 48 hours in Dublin. Yes, it would have been an amazing prize to win but I don't think it's worth crapping all over other people just because you can. To be honest, I sort of wish I wasn't involved with the whole thing because it left a decidedly nasty taste in my mouth. Some people will do anything to prove that they're more popular, more loved, better than someone else. And yes, there was a prize at the end of it, but it didn't really feel like it was the end goal at points, it felt more like a high school competition-'I've got more friends than you so I'm better than you and you're nothing'. I didn't want to participate in those whilst I was at school, let alone now, when I should have (happily) left it all behind me.

So I hope Couple 1 enjoy their holiday, but I'm kinda glad that I know nearly everyone who contributed to those 154 votes. I might not be popular enough to win Facebook contests but I have a good bunch of excellent friends. If you took the time to vote for me then THANKYOU. I'm so grateful to you all for that. And while this means that I won't be able to write excellent Irish blog posts for you, I'm sure I can find something to fill the time instead.

See you there!


Title of Post taken from 'Popular'-Wicked The Musical

Sunday, 2 June 2013

30 Posts of Truth-Part 10

10. Someone You Need To Let Go Of, Or Wish You Didn't Know

When I first read this list of blog prompts, I felt sure that this post was going to be another one about the Ex and the Ex-Best-Friend, how I needed to let them go and forget about them blah blah blah. What I had failed to anticipate though was that I might already have let them go by the time I reached number 10-and I think I covered my reasons for this pretty succinctly in truth number four. I'm glad to say that they're little more than a distant memory now, and while I still think about them from time to time, it's in a way that doesn't really have any emotions attached to it. They were shitty to me, but people are shitty sometimes and I don't need them any more.

So I had another think about it. Who is hanging over my life in a way that means I want to get rid of them, who do I wish I never had to see again, who is really bad for me so that I would be healthier without them in my life?
And I couldn't think of anyone. Right now I don't think there is anyone in my life who I would be better off without. Sure there are some people I like slightly more, some people I like slightly less, but there's no-one I wish I didn't know at all. And it's a wonderful revelation really-that everyone I call a friend is a friend who is good for me and good to me. I've had my share of troublesome friendships/relationships, the ones that turn you into someone you don't really want to be and I'm really glad that I don't have any of those influences on my life at the moment. 

So who do I need to let go of? Absolutely no-one. And that feels good.