When I started writing this blog I swore to myself that I wouldn’t apologise for not writing, but it’s been such a long time that I feel like a sorry is in order. Sorry! I’ve been soul-searching, and I think it worked. I have a life plan. I’m excited about it. The tree is up. The wine is mulled. I drank way too many gin and tonics after yesterday’s wine mulling session and I’m not even hungover! It really is the most wonderful time of the year…
Sometimes something just catches your attention at exactly the right moment in life, whether it’s a song, a book, a quote or a video like the one above. Not necessarily something new, but something new to you, or maybe which you’d already seen and forgotten all about. For me, it was this speech given by Tim Minchin to brand new graduates during a ceremony where he received an honorary Doctorate for being all-round awesome. I was just absent-minded scrolling through my Facebook feed, feeling a bit fed up and under the (rather drizzly) weather when I accidentally clicked on this video – on my dad’s timeline, of all places – and it just happened to be exactly what I needed to hear.
It’s a speech full of things that anyone who is feeling a little bit lost in life needs to hear, so if you’re all at sea like I am right now, give it a watch. I laughed, I cried a little bit and when it finished, I felt completely inspired to get up and get stuff done. Watch it!
You’re only given one little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.
– Robin Williams
Rest in peace, Robin. Judging by the world’s reaction to the horrible news this morning, you were very much loved and you will be very much missed.
Just a quick wee crafty post today – I made this teeny little fella this evening and I’m actually pretty proud of him!
The pattern is this one by Lucy Ravenscar, made with cotton and a 1mm hook.
I may not be the most confident person in the world. I have more bad hair days than good. I cannot run very fast. Or very far. My skin is a state. I am clumsier than most toddlers. I snort when I laugh too hard. I cannot pronounce the word ‘particularly’. I
often sometimes eat cake for breakfast. I’m not the world’s best photographer (see above). And I’m certainly not one to blow my own trumpet…
But damn, I make a good pizza.
My life in the last month has taken an interesting turn. Something has happened to me. Something completely unexpected. I don’t even recognise myself anymore.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have become a football fan. A shouting at the TV, discussing last nights game with the guys at work football fan. I have World Cup fever, and I’m already worrying about what I’m going to do in the evenings when it all ends.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not 100% behind football – it’s still just a bunch of overpaid, entitled egos running up and down a field. I don’t really understand the rules, and no, I have no clue what “offside” actually means, but damn, it’s compelling. I’m particularly enjoying watching slow-motion replays of the goalkeepers’ faces as they realise the ball is going in the net. And laughing at players faking injuries and getting denied by the referee And seeing the cocky teams get knocked out (yeah, Brazil, I’m looking at you).
As it turns out, the best thing about football is also one of the most enjoyable things in life…the delicious schadenfreude. Because there are few things that make you feel better about your own shortcomings than laughing at someone else’s.
I would love to lie and say that I have been busy, but I haven’t. Truth be told, the last couple of weeks have been a bit strange. The days have just merged into one long stretch of eat-work-eat-sleep-repeat. Like I’ve been watching my own life from the sidelines, not really living it. It’s not that I have been unhappy exactly, but more that there has been a lack of happiness. Not sadness, just numbness. I’m trapped in this weird, monotonous limbo – I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with my life, which doesn’t appear to matter that much seeing as other people seem to be trying to make all my decisions for me anyway. Because I don’t need to have an opinion on the city I live in, the house I live in, when I leave my current job, how I spend my weekends… It’s all making me feel kind of suffocated. I just want to escape it all, which is as funny as it is tragic. I am a 26-year-old woman who wants to run away from home.
This weekend has actually turned out to be a very welcome break from that feeling, from slightly warm Chardonnay in my best friend’s garden on Friday to a full-on high heels, short skirt and far-too-many-mojitos night out last night. Today I’ve been nursing a (mercifully) small hangover, stretched out in the sunshine, reading The Fault in Our Stars to see what the fuss is about. It’s been a perfect British summer weekend – warm, laid-back and boozy.
Hopefully I’ll be starting to feel more like myself again soon, and you won’t need to read any more of these miserable, self-pitying posts. Until then, I would recommend that you go and have a giggle at Lucy or Frankie’s blogs, or coo over an adorable puppy on Gemma’s blog.
Normal service will resume shortly.
When you go home, tell them of us and say,
For your tomorrow, we gave our today
Being so far removed from the reality of war, it’s easy to watch the old footage of events like the Normandy landings as though it were scenes from a film, not to dwell on the fact that those are real people, and that many didn’t survive. But I’ve been sat thinking about it a lot today. Listening to the D-Day commemorations on Radio 2. Reading about some of the interesting people involved, like Piper Bill and Agent Garbo. Wondering what it would have been like to be one of the thousands of men going in on the boats, knowing that the odds were stacked against them. Or a mother, wife or child, wondering if their loved ones will ever come home again.
And I’ve been feeling very guilty about the fact that I struggled to get out of my warm, safe bed earlier because I didn’t feel like coming to work today.
Yes, that’s right – I am pretending that it’s not already the 3rd of June. How did that happen?
So, that is it. Blog Every Day in May 2014 – done. And it started off really well! I think life started getting in the way towards the end though. I think it’s safe to say that I’m not really made for blogging every single day!
Despite that, I really did enjoy the experience. It was fun to have to think about and get creative with the prompts, even if some were a little more challenging than others!
I have to say though, the best bit for me had to be ‘meeting’ other bloggers. I’ve discovered so many brilliant, funny, thoughtful and inspiring blogs that I might never have come across without BEDM. And all of you lovely people have been so kind and supportive, with everything from career advice to reminiscing about school discos. It’s been fantastic getting to know you folks, and I’m actually quite sad that it’s all over. See you all for Blog Every Day in November then?!
I am not one to blow my own trumpet. Talking about how awesome I am feels a bit like being in an interview, and I’m not sure I can put myself through that whilst being forced to watch England vs Peru. So here are some talents I have which have, but which are essentially useless:
– Remembering song lyrics – can I remember my email password? No. Do I know what my memorable name is? No. Can I recite all of the lyrics to every blinking song I’ve ever heard more than twice? Hell yes I can! There’s valuable space in my brain being taken up by the lyrics to 5ive’s ‘Everybody Get Up’, which is almost definitely why I can’t remember where my car keys are.
– Spoonerisms – for someone who studied languages, I am terrible at actually speaking. My personal favourite is the time I (tipsily) told my mum I’d be meeting up with a friend “one gay next beak”.
– Hill starts – that’s right, no stalling for me! I have my clutch and accelerator balanced like the best of them. It’s just a shame that most of the drives I do are totally flat…
– Accents – a friend and I once convinced a girl at school that we were American for over a year with our spectacular mimicry. Too bad there is absolutely no practical use for my great Welsh Valleys accent.
– Buying nail varnish – I have been banned from buying more polish by more than one person, and one more than one occasion but those little glass bottles always find their way into my basket. I once went into TK Maxx promising I wouldn’t buy any and came out with ten! In fairness, they were beautiful…