Resolute in my Resolutions

When I turned 35 I made a list "40 things to do before 40". I didn't list anything totally fantastic or unreasonable (my funds are limited). There was no round the world trips or learning how to fly a jet, I chose quite simple, cheap things really. Stuff like learn how to juggle three balls and go to a football match. Everything I put on the list should have been easily obtainable in five years. Even so, to date I have only crossed off five. I am totally ashamed of myself. With only two weeks until my fortieth birthday, there is no hope of completing my list.

Once again, I have let myself fail by just not trying. I could make excuses and say I was too busy but the truth is I have lots of spare time and I waste it all.

The New Year is just on the horizon and it seems the perfect time to make some promises to myself. I want to actually finish something I have started.

I recently came across a link to the Guardian's top 1000 book list. I consider myself quite the little bookworm, our house is overflowing with books, so I was shocked to find I could only cross off 35 books from this most comprehensive list.

So the challenge is set. I will read every single book on this list, even any children's ones. I will even start at zero and re-read the novels I have read before.

To make the task a little simpler and ensure I actually complete it, I have asked friends and family for Amazon vouchers for my birthday. The plan is to buy an electronic book reader. This seems the best option as we really don't have the shelf space in our house and our local library is poorly stocked. In the meantime, most of the 100 classic books for Nintendo DS are on the list so I have plenty to keep me busy until I can afford the Kindle.

I will update my blog regularly with my progress.

The Big Move

My company is moving. We're not moving far (only 7 miles) but I am dreading going in to work today. Everything has been so poorly organised. It's the usual story, the management didn't consult the actual workers when making plans and consequently many important but small issues were totally overlooked.

The "Powers That Be" decided it would be best to move over Christmas. Most of our customers are closed until the New Year so it seemed like a good idea at the time. However, not all of our customers are shut and those that are operating this week are expecting full service levels. They are going to be sorely disappointed. Our phone system probably won't be running today and our IT guy has warned us it will probably take a couple of days to get all the servers and PCs installed.

So for two days, at least, all we can do is unpack boxes and re-organise our workspaces. As soon as our systems are all running it will be a mad panic rush to complete all we need to for month and year end.

It is definitely going to be a stressful few days.

On a brighter note, I am looking forward to an easier journey to work. the move will halve my travel time.

Shelby Awakening

Shelby is a ten month old Chocolate Labrador who likes to wake everyone up too early in the morning. This morning she woke me at six o'clock. I fed her, did a bit of tidying up and then sat to enjoy a morning cup of tea and a cigarette.

Clint and the kids are still in bed. The house is still a mess from yesterday and I need a least another couple of hours sleep to be able to function at a reasonable level.

It's Boxing Day today. My favourite. I always find Christmas Day a bit stressful. At least we didn't have a turkey disaster like last year. (That involved a mad panic dash to Tesco at 5:30 on Christmas Eve to buy a new turkey). The kids loved all their presents even though we couldn't spend as much on them as their mum. They went to bed tired but happy so a good result in my eyes.

Usually we visit family today but this year we have chosen to stay home. Clint's mum will be round later so I'd better get my arse in gear and clean up this pit. Still, another cup of tea and cigarette won't hurt.

Parents Do the Funniest Things

My Dad phoned me today while I was at work and the conversation went a little like this...

Dad - Hi, what's Clint's name?

Me - It's erm... Clint

Dad - No I mean what's his name?

Me - Are you asking me what Clint's name is?

Dad - Yeah

Me - Oh... okay... it's Clint



I think he's now looking into having me adopted!

Parents - can't live with them, can't push them down the stairs!

Feeling Your Age

You know you're getting old when....

• you make little grunt/sigh noises when you get up or sit down




• you take a brolly with you everywhere, just in case




• you choose shoes and clothes based purely on whether they are comfortable




• you check where the toilets are as soon as you arrive somewhere




• you use the words "nowadays" and "when I was your age" far too often




• the only drugs you take are prescribed by your doctor

Curiousity Killed the Cat

Today was the funniest day.

I am not very good at playing practical jokes. I end up smiling and giving the game away too soon. So imagine my surprise when a well thought out prank of mine actually played out almost perfectly today.

A little background is called for... my Dear Fiance (DF) does not like secrets. He becomes obsessed if there is something he doesn't know and thinks he should. Of course, I love him to bits but for someone like me who is not very good at sharing unconditionally this particular OCD drives me nuts. He has been known to pry in places he doesn't belong (although there is always a suitable excuse for him being there). I'll even admit that sometimes his tenacity makes me feel he doesn't trust me.

For the last couple of months I have been writing a screenplay. DF has strict instructions from me not to read said screenplay or any of my other scribblings. All my work is stored in the brightest pink bag so no mistakes can be made. I know that telling DF he is not allowed to look at something is like telling a child not to go looking for Christmas presents but he promised not to. Knowing that he would find it very hard if not impossible to resist, I decided to lay a trap.

Today I received a very irate text from DF ranting that he was very unhappy. Apparently, he had to move my pink bag today and happened to glance at my list of characters. (Bear in mind that the list was buried underneath other papers and folders.)

It seems DF was not impressed I had chosen to name the flamboyant gay character in my script after him! He took it very personally indeed much to my amusement.

It took a while but he eventually calmed down after I explained that I had purposefully named the character after him to teach him a lesson. I know it's mean but the angrier he got the more I laughed. Just thinking about it again now is bringing a smile to my face.

I don't think he'll be prying anywhere he shouldn't for a while.

The Camera Never Lies

I thought I'd jazz up my blog with a few photos. An easy task you would think except there is not one single photo of me that I am happy with. I am one of those people that don't photograph well at all. It doesn't matter whether they are candid shots or posed ones, I look bloody awful in them all. I know I'm not the most attractive person but I'd like to think I'm not a complete dog!

So having searched through all my albums, I came up empty. Of the hundreds of pictures I have there are very few featuring me anyway (I usually avoid cameras). I even appealed to friends and family on Facebook hoping they might be able to find something but no joy. My profile pictures is one of the few I have of me as a kid. This was taken mid 70's (that explains the dress). I was around 5 or 6 years old and I was singing "Ma, He's Making Eyes at Me" by Lena Zavaroni in a holiday camp competition!

The hunt has now taken me deep into the very depths of my loft. I have uncovered a box of old negatives. Where the prints have disappeared to, I have no idea. I am gradually working through the stash, uploading them via my transparency scanner in the hope some hidden gem emerges.

Maybe I am just kidding myself. Maybe a decent picture of me doesn't exist for a very good reason.

Are Lemmings Cool?

Of one thing I am absolutely certain... nothing about me is cool. I've never been cool and I never will. Having a blog and a twitter account is about as trendy as I get. I've never followed fashion. I don't understand half of the language kids use nowadays and I spell words correctly when I text. To some people I probably seem old before my time but I have always been this way. As a kid it was pointless to want the latest thing because we didn't have the money to buy it. So I learned not to care what everyone else was doing. I still don't. I like marching to my own personal drum. I'm not embarrassed by it and I certainly won't apologise for it.

I'm not interested in keeping up with the Joneses or keeping up appearances. I don't pay attention to movie or music critics and I don't listen when "friends" try to tease me about my interests.

I actually feel sorry for people who feel the need to follow the herd. To me that is so restrictive, so smothering. Aren't personal interests supposed to be just that - personal? I mean, lemmings are cute but are they cool?

This is How I Feel

In my first blog I mentioned I had dug out an old box of stuff I'd written when I was younger. It brought back a lot of memories, both good and bad. Most of it is simple and juvenile and I would be mortified in anyone read any of it but a few people have asked to see something I wrote back then. So here goes....

This is How I Feel (Oct '98)

Blue sky covers grey

Night turns into day

Smiles appear from tears

Hope springs out of fears

Sunshine dries the rain

Joy replaces pain

Hurt begins to heal

And this is how I feel

Sometimes so unsure

Scared to ask for more

Weak with just one touch

Afraid to want too much

Is this all too fast?

Is this going to last?

Is this really real?

And this is how I feel

This is probably the least embarrassing out of all the stuff I uncovered. I hope you like it.

Hurricane Warning

So the big 4 - 0 is approaching at a frightening rate. Just three weeks after Christmas I will become officially OLD! After dithering for months I finally decided that yes, I do want a party. Let's see, that gives me just over a month. Why oh why was I born so soon after Christmas? (N.B. Smart Alec comments of "because your parents had sex in April" will not get you an invite!!!!) There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day. I keep thinking I wish someone would do it all for me. But then I remember I'm a bit of a control freak and I have to do it myself.

With Christmas just around the corner, I haven't been able to dedicate much time to the party planning. I'm usually quite anal about organising things, making long lists and checking everything off as I go along. But this time, everything's stashed in my head or scribbled down on the back of Tesco receipts. The friends I have discussed it with have only made my work harder. "You gotta have a theme," everyone said, "The cheesier the better!" Oh do I?... Fine! How about a Beach Party theme. Can't wait to see everyone freezing their arses off in the middle of January. (You gotta love the smoking ban.)

Mmmmmm.... Beach Party theme.... I'm thinking sand, palm trees, coconuts, hula skirts and cocktails. Lots and lots of cocktails.

39 days to go, so far I have booked the hall (our carpet won't survive another party) and designed the invites. Tonight I think I'd better actually print them out and send them or I'll be doing the Macarena all on my onesies! That reminds me I need to book a DJ as well. Oh bugger! That quiet dinner for two at the local Harvester sounds perfect right about now. In fact, a happy meal at McDonalds is starting to look very appetising.

The Witch Within

So I am new to blogging and it probably shows but I am enjoying myself. I asked all my Facebook pals what my next blog should be about and my Mother-in-Law-to-be suggested Wicca. Even so, I thought I had better explore the blogniverse a little first to discover what everyone else writes about. On this site, for instance, the blogs seem to be fairly equally divided between dogs, cooking and religion. Some even seem dedicated to all three topics! Now it just so happens that I cook and I own a dog so apparently I am in good company. As for religion, well that's when things go a little awry.

I was raised a Christian. I went to church and Sunday school. I read the bible. I sang hymns in assembly and went carolling with my sisters. It wasn't straightforward in my house though. You see, my mum was raised CofE, whilst my dad was strict Catholic. They decided, for reasons I'm not prepared to divulge here, not to have me christened at all. I was always told I could choose my own path. You should have seen the look on their faces when I told them I'd chosen Wicca! After a rocky start (Mum thought I was going to worship cane furniture whilst Dad thought I would start slaughtering small animals) they have accepted my decision in the typical "it's just a phase" parent way. That was ten years ago.

So why did I choose Wicca?

I have spiritual beliefs that don't conform with any one religion. When asked, I describe myself as Wiccan but only because this is the label that ticks most boxes. I don't belong to a coven and I don't dance naked under a full moon (although Clint might like me to do the latter!) I do observe the sabbats and I do, very occasionally, work spells.

Most Christians regard Wicca and paganism with distrust. They hear the word witch and conjure up images of satanic worship. There is no devil in Wicca. Wicca is about harmony and balance. It holds respect for nature and our planet at its core. Most Wiccans are fervent recyclers and green campaigners. Personally, I regard it as more a way of life than a religion.

When you consider how most Christian festivals are based on pagan ones, I often wonder why people think us so odd. We may have different names for Easter and Christmas but the traditions and symbols are not so dissimilar; eggs at Easter, trees and holly at Christmas!

As for spells, I would liken them to prayers. A Christian will perhaps light a candle, place their hands together and get down on their knees to ask God for their most heartfelt wish. A Wiccan usually performs a slightly more elaborate ritual when working a spell but in essense it is the same. The difference is that as a Wiccan you believe the "wish" will come true. More than that, you believe that the very reason it will come true is because you believe it! For those sceptics reading this, I can honestly say that every spell I have woven has worked!

I am neither a goth or a new-age hippie. I am also not your stereotypical pagan, I don't think. Wicca is a self-build DIY religion. You are not inhibited by dogma. You can adopt aspects of other faiths into your own. That is the beauty of Wicca for me.

I would never try and convert someone to my "faith". I think everyone has the right to believe what they want and do what they want provided it doesn't hurt themselves or others. Such is the pagan way!

I just wish all faiths could live and let live. Well, at least they don't burn us anymore!

Creation vs Evolution

It is no surprise that a writer cannot take a really good book, make a couple of minute changes, then publish it under their own name with a new illustration on the cover. It just isn't done. There are laws against it and no-one in their right mind would consider it anything other than theft. We (Joe Public), would not tolerate it or waste our money on it.

Then why do we happily accept sloppy seconds in other areas.

In recent years, the vogue to produce remakes or "based on the tv series" movies has left us with the impression that there are no original ideas left. Movie makers have become akin to Japanese manufacturers. After all, why bother to invent something when you can take someone else's idea and develop it to the nth degree. Does a film cost any less to make if it has been made before? I don't think so. Obviously, with developments in CGI and other special effects, some people will argue that a remake is often a vast improvement on the original. I will concede that occasionally this is true. I may also agree that there is justification if the original was an obscure foreign language film or perhaps a short. However, how can you advocate the remaking of classic or cult films such as Psycho, Pelham 123 or Barbarella. Has the film industry lost its nerve? With the huge sums of money spent on making and promoting films nowadays, is it safer to take a tried and tested formula than to risk millions on something new and fresh? Even when they do use an innovative idea, the tendency to overmilk with sequel after needless sequel irritates me. Terminator Salvation! Really? Let the machines rule the world, I don't care anymore.

This tendency to reuse old ideas isn't exclusive to movies. All the shops are full of fashions from years ago. It's amazing to me how all the young girls think they are getting something amazing and new. They don't realise their mothers probably wore that same outfit when dating their dad.

In a disappointing parallel to the movie and fashion industries, the music business also seems unable to showcase originality. Turn on the radio and you will hear the same songs played over and over again. Most will sound at least vaguely familiar as you realise it's either a cover version or a large part of the song has been sampled from a song you used to dance to in your teens. When was the last time you turned on the radio and heard a new song from an artist you never heard of? DJs can't introduce us to new music like they used to. Their hands are completely tied by station playlists.

Some people only like music in a specific genre, some like music to dance to, some like it to listen to. We all have different tastes and I fully appreciate that. Personally, I have a freakily eccletic music collection encompassing everything from Country to Rock, Folk to Rap. Old or new, chart or indie, I have something to suit all my different moods. There is not much I won't listen to although I do prefer proper songs with proper lyrics. I cannot stand these music snobs who look down their noses at you because you don't like a certain band or can't recite last year's Mercury Prize nominees. Music is a personal choice. That said, I have a problem with boybands, for example Westlife. Firstly, they are not bands, they do not play instruments. Secondly, why do their fans accept this constant stream of cover versions. (Westlife have recorded 63 according to Wikipedia). If they were making improvements to the arrangement of the original song maybe I would feel differently but the latest single from Westlife is practically a clone of the Daughtry version. I am not even a hater of covers. I think in the right place at the right time for the right reasons they can be great.

So why do we just accept what we're given. Why do we hand over our hard earned cash for sub-standard, 2nd hand goods? We wouldn't expect to pay the same price for a used car as a new one. I know this whole retro movement at the moment is everywhere, the emphasis is on re-using and recycling but some things should never be recycled. There is a host of untapped talent in this country alone. Search through the web and you will find unpublished screenplays, designs, music, books and more. The internet seems to be the last hope for all these amazing artists.

So, Creation vs. Evolution. I know which one I'd like to see win.

Old Dreams , New Beginnings

I don't feel old. I don't have any wrinkles yet or grey hairs. I suppose I should be grateful. What I do have is an unavoidable sense that time is running out. Things I always planned on doing haven't been done yet. Goals I set myself were forgotten. I increasingly feel like I've wasted too much time.

I had so many hopes and dreams when I was growing up. At ten, I wanted to be forensic scientist years before anyone had even heard of CSI. At eleven, I remember begging for ballet lessons only to get ballroom dancing lessons instead because they were all we could afford. At thirteen I wanted to be a writer. I would spend hours in my room composing songs and stories. All my teenage angst scrawled across scraps of paper and tatty notebooks. I would pour my heart out on the page and lose myself in imaginery worlds where life was different. Not perfect, just different.

Obviously I never fulfilled any of my ambitions, they were all short-lived and lacked any real conviction. I would be totally obsessed for a while only to be talked out of it or discouraged by a chance remark. For years I blamed everyone else on my lack of success. I thought that I had failed because no-one had encouraged me. Looking back now I realise that I didn't fail. I just never really tried.

Writing helped me cope with all the trials in my life. It kept me sane when I felt the world was falling apart around me. It saw me through my parent's breaking up, my first heartbreak and my divorce. It remains my favourite form of therapy.

As the big 4 - 0 approaches I find myself reflecting on the past more and more. I've even dusted off the small cardboard box from the loft where I packed away all my creations from my youth. Who knows maybe I'll find something worth publishing. At least now I'm ready to try.