The inevitable resolution...

I am predisposed to reject anything that I have to do because of what the world conforms to, however in the grand scheme of things I love traditions, not the silly ones like drinking and eating too much at christmas, but the real ones, like remembering that Christmas (although a religious holiday) is really about recognising that a little support, love and light is the way to make the world a better place.

For the most part, the 1st of January of any year is lost in the tick of another box and another year started, resolutions aren't my thing, I hate the idea of being forced to want to change my life because it just so happens to be a new year, this year however, the new year, or my need to change, has arrived at the right time. I feel so ready to start this, and 2011 is the right year.

Now before we get into this, 2010 was not a bad year, not even close to one, it was mind blowing, and perfect, mainly because it was like a roller-coaster with the epic highs and dips that for each moment you really did wonder which way was up. I got married and fell in love all over again and I settled and and I changed and it was crazy, but in an utterly brilliant way.

But now, now that the hum of the party has quietened, and the wedding album is made, I feel like it's time I sorted me out, little old me, who sometimes worries that i wasn't a waste of time, or that if I hadn't been ginger would i really be any use at all.

I hate the idea that when someone asks me, which they invariably will, 'so what's your new years resolution?' I will actually have an answer, but this year I'm doing it for me, to work out who the grown up me is, so that when I shake someones hand I know who I am introducing them to.

Actually, add to that, I am doing it because I had a nightmare a few weeks ago where all my loved ones were slowly moving away from me, and their memory of me was only the me that exists now, and I realised that I've done very little to make anyone proud to know me, and so in my little way, I hope the resolutions below make you a little more proud to know me...

1. Write 5 poems a month
2. Finish A Shortcut To Heartbreak (novel)
3. Compile and distribute/sell a BWS poetry collection
4. Take the positives from a situation, don't dwell on the negatives
5. Do a Triathlon (this one is for me!!)

So join me? Not in silly resolutions, but in one (or many) that might make someone proud? (mine may not be outstanding worldly contributions, but for me to help the world I first need to sort me out)

Note Edit:

The Kezzatron has reposted... you can read her reply, and the rest of her blog here...

http://fannybelligs.tumblr.com/post/2517870392/a-response-to-the-itinerant-poet

Lesbianism isn't scary...

© Image courtesy of BBC

Lip Service and me

*disclaimer, I make no promises that this will be a concise and detailed look at identity, but then who really knows 100% how they came to be them?

I imagine that every blog under this lesbian sun (based in the UK at any rate) will do a write up on ‘Lip Service’ and its new place in the history of Lesbians on TV and in pop culture. This is all well and good, but as I was trying to explain the show to a straight friend who tends to walk slowly backwards whenever I suggest a TV show (she didn’t take kindly to One Tree Hill and now forever takes my opinion with a pinch of salt), I realised that I needed this show more than just an excuse to watch hot women on TV. I needed it more than just a good tick in the right box for the BBC’s representation of lesbians. I needed this to find my identity.

That might sound like a strange sentence coming from a 25-year-old lesbian who’s been out of the closet for the past 6 years and is currently enjoying being a newly-wed. But my chat with my friend got me thinking, I have a very involved relationship with lesbians on TV, my partner seems to think it’s really just me looking at them, but it’s more than that, and somewhere in this blog post I hope to try and explain it.

Before all that though, ‘Lip Service’ has managed to break into the mainstream, yes I am fully aware that it was on at 10.30 on BBC3 but for the first time in I don’t know when, newspapers were covering the show (The Guardian Guide did a very good article on 09.10.10) and the BBC seemed almost, dare I say it, proud of their new show. This show was needed. FACT! Any lesbian, bisexual, gay, transgendered person who is struggling with coming out, struggling with the fact that they now think they are less than normal, need a show that showed a day, a normal day, in a normal city, where life just happened. I know for TV situations were heightened, angles were cleverly shot, and the ladies just a little bit too hot, but this was predominantly a show about a group of friends, who happen to mostly be lesbians. The upsetting thing is that this is the first of its kind. When the next show comes along (I hope along side Lip Service not to replace it) I hope it sits along side Eastenders, or Emmerdale, not because it’s a show about lesbians, but because it’s a drama show, that everyone should watch.

So, back to me, for as long as I can remember I’ve sought out role models, not the pretty models or girl group singers who people aspire to be, I’ve sought after someone on TV, a character, or a real life person, who hints at a life I could lead. And so, since the age of 16 (without me really understanding why), I’ve wanted to watch something other than the normal straight couple, and their beautiful rom-com relationship. Even when it got gritty, and the realism hit, I still didn’t connect. I needed something gay. I’d like to point out now that I do not watch lesbian shows just to look at the women, I watch it for the interactions, the relationships and the persona, if you were a straight lady, you would not enjoy watching a drama about two gay men, as much as you would like watching one about a woman and a man, not because you don’t want to know their story, but we all have a requirement to watch something that connects to our own lives.

At 18 I came out, to a few people, but I did it, out of the closet and into the big wide lesbian world. I knew I was gay, I knew that I fancied women and men did nothing for me, but up until then, I’d never met another lesbian, never seen anything on TV (Tipping the Velvet came out when I was 16 and opened my eyes to a world I knew nothing about but at that point it was just a horrible experience of sitting and watching it with my twin sister) I was the typical middle class suburban lesbian who didn’t know a lesbian if it bit her on the nose. But I knew I was one, and I knew that I needed a little bit of help finding out just who I really was. For me (and for many lesbians of my generation) TV was the way you found out who you were, pop culture, TV dramas, soaps and documentaries offered a depiction of life that we were meant to gobble up and not question. If someone was a chef, it was ok to like cooking, If someone rode a motorbike, it was cool to want one, that’s how society works these days. But where did that leave this little lost lesbian. Stranded!

Because I couldn’t be a lesbian, to the public eye at least, for the majority of my relationship with my first girlfriend, I threw myself into finding other lesbians on film and TV, I discovered a wealth of identity and confusion that I could pick apart and weave myself into, without ever having to leave my lonely little student bedroom. It was at this point that I found some courage. I bought Diva. So many people could probably tell you the horror they went through when secretly ducking into WH Smiths on the high street and finding the lesbian magazine, and then going to buy a really gossipy magazine to cover it with so that you could hide it on the counter, and not look the shop assistant in the eye. I went to university in a very small town, and I was petrified I’d meet someone I knew who would out me most publically, bringing shame on my girlfriend and me. I needed to grow up. But at the time I didn’t know that. So I took my lesbians home and devoured all the copies I could find. I needed to see what other lesbians looked like; Diva probably helped me more than I’m currently able to admit. I walk up to the counter now with pride, no more hiding, I only ever buy diva on its own, or at the supermarket, and always wish that the checkout assistant notices it, and looks up, and comment, in a positive way. They never do, but I like quite how far I’ve come.

Even though now I am happy, with my wife and my possible career change, there is always going to be a bit of me that needs to see lesbians on TV. I need to know that there are others out there, having normal lives, and normal days, they aren’t just the token character, who goes through the coming out period (more stressful that giving birth!!) and then just change their mind. We need characters that walk down the street holding hands, behind the main characters, characters who find that they’ve fallen out or in of love but its not some dramatic storyline. This matters to me. My identity has been formed now. I know that. But I need to know that one day, I won’t be shouted at in the street, that I won’t be told to go to the men’s changing room, that when I take my kids to school in the future I’m not going to be looked at in a funny way.

When I was trying to find my identity there was nothing there, I had to form my own idea of what a lesbian should be like, and now its constantly changing, I’m learning what it’s ok to be, how I should make myself just be the exact person I want to be, and I’m learning how the world sees lesbians, TV warts and all. And now, for newly outed kids, who need an idea of what life could be for them, they need to know that we’re out there, to support them, but also just living our ordinary lives. Let’s hope Lip Service can keep delivering the honesty and realism that it seems to be hinting at.

For more information here are some links:

Diva – www.divamag.co.uk

Lip Service - http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00tq4d9

Tipping the Velvet - http://www.bbc.co.uk/drama/tippingthevelvet/

LGBT Support - http://queery.org.uk/StaticPages/Advice.asp Numbers and contact details

What is in a name? The surname argument

'Names, once they are in common use, quickly become mere sounds, their etymology being buried, like so many of the earth's marvels, beneath the dust of habit.'

~Salman Rushdie

As many people do in the run up to their wedding, I have been thinking a lot about names, their meanings, and their connection to our identity. It's always the way that when something is due to change you realise your relationship with it as it exists then.

Is your surname your identity? or just just a small part of the bigger sum?

As a woman, from a young age you tend to accept that your surname will inevitably change, you might even be one of those kids that scrawls across their notebooks with the new name you would have if you settled down and married (at the age of 14) the boy you seems fascinated with at the time. I did it. I'm not going to hide from it, my pencil case was covered in every imaginable version of all my could be names. But then the questioning came along. The 'was I different', and then the names stopped. I had enough problems identifying myself for me, let alone adding a new name into the equation. Questioning your identity from the inside is an enlightening experience, and nearly 10 years on from the first questions, I like the person I have become, and my name has been along for the ride.

Even if you weren't going to become the straight woman who would marry the 'prince' names are still a huge part of your life. I stopped looking at my name as something that would change for a while, and it made it feel much more like it was part of me, a little ink scrawled across me, but for a lot of people, their name has a negative effect.

Bad childhoods, sucky parents, no parents, divorce, realisation that you are in a marriage that isn't right, realising that to become the better person you keep inside you need to change the outside, running away, starting again... all very good reasons to change your surname, but does it make you a new person? or just a stronger you?

I've often wondered if changing your name creates a new version of yourself, or just a re-labeled old copy? Maybe next year I'll be able to tell you. I bring this topic to you as a few things are starting to arrive through the mail in my new 'married' name and its exciting, but a strange concept to get your head around.

I am proud of my surname, I like the sound of it, I like the history of it, maybe that's why I am just adding stuff onto my name, instead of re-writing myself, I'm just making a new addition, and its quite calming. I don't need to be a new person, I can just have a nice new bit, all shiny and special. Other people don't change their names at all when they get married, for them I guess their name is much more of their identity. A part they aren't quite willing to give up, and I feel like that's a very brave thing to do, it's much easier to give up, instead of staying resolute in your wishes.

I've often wondered if your name becomes more of your identity as a gay woman? because it's part of you, and you're proud of the person you've become? Maybe I need to do a straw poll, find out if there are people who use their names as their identity, or their identity as their names.

"Is your surname part of your identity? Largely so,yes. Having been married b4 i came out, I immediately wanted to revert to my maiden name when divorced - felt more me.(Sarah Watts)"

Don't we judge people on their names all the time? Like we assume that we have to 'improve' our names to be famous, and we think that we could never been exciting if we have a plain name. I think it was about time that a Jane Smith, or an Adam Edwards took to the stage and changed it all. (I am fully aware that this will probably never happen and fancy names will forever be connected to fame.)

I am fully aware that this blog has no real thread, just lots of questions. But isn't that what an identity is, just a lot of questions you spend your life answering?

Names are part of your identity, it makes you want to fight for or against what it represents, but it's not everything you are, its a small part of the massive sum, its like one tiny decimal in a very long division sum. So don't let the name that you were born into shape your life, use your soul, and mind and body to shape your life, and just let your name be the tag, scribbled across the bottom corner, almost out of sight.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
~William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Sun-Dodgers grace Latitude

I must start this blog by just stating that Latitude was awesome... FACT! It was full of fun times, and music, and drink, and food, and comedy, and poetry and literature and lazy afternoons... I think that makes the perfect long weekend!

We saw so many great artists that its ridiculous to even consider it, but I shall try and break it down for you all. Before i talk about the brilliant artists, I shall venture into the relms of self-publication... There was an open-mic event in the poetry tent and I was stupid enough to sign up... this video is the harrowing (for me) evidence.

But enough about me and my escapades, here's a little breakdown into what and who we saw:

This is not technically an artist but we did see a mini Dr Who who was dressed up perfectly, with his sister doing a very good impression of a small Amy Pond, it was ridiculously cute, especially as the little Dr Who had a shock of ginger hair and they looked like the love children of the Dr and amy pond.

The Sunrise Arena was this perfect little tent hidden up on the hill in the woods and was a brilliant venue to see Lissie and First Aid Kit in the days, and Darwen Deez in the evening. I've like all these bands before but hearing them live has really got me excited about their stuff, and them as musicians. Lissie was astounding and certainly a voice that is going places!

Florence and the Machine on the Obelisk arena was the perfect way to end the first day at the festival. She previewed a couple of new songs, suitably dark and exciting and it was so much fun jumping around in the dark to all the classic songs. We even sung happy birthday for her little sister.

Frank Turner is an old time favourite for us and it was so much fun yelling political songs in the sunshine of an afternoon.

Mumford and sons were epic... i love these guys probably more than i should and the banjo always makes me dance, so to see them live was brilliant.

To contrast all these afternoons spent with male bands Laura Marling and Corrine Bailey Rae were peaceful, and beautiful and such a lovely way to chillax with the lady love with a cider in the sun.

Moving away from Music we probably managed to spend 40% of our time living by the lake, or in the two tents! We saw some beautiful ballet by Sadlers Wells by the lake and despite the crowds it was awe inspiring.

The poetry tent was a hot-bed for new talents and it was really good to see how new people are doing their thing... Joe Dunthorne and Luke Wright were especially good (go check them out!) and we even got to see Phil Jupitus as Porky the Poet (and comedian) for a whole hour of hilarious stories.

A highlight for the lady (and myself) was to see Sebastian Faulks speak and read from his two new books, he even managed a rather wonderful rendition of Alan Bennett for his Pistache book... (if this is not on youtube it should be!)

So this may not be quite as succinct as my normal blog posts, but take it as a representation of the madness and ad hoc nature of a festival.

To end i shall leave you with my poem about the whole occasion.

* * *

If the monsters came I knew I could find you

with your torch and your whippy sign

against the mist of the fountain

a projection of our destination

The daring sharp showers interrupted

a perfectly sedate sunshine

against the grass and tent collage

countless lost souls calling keep coming where?

in the forest at the top of the hill

as the guitar picks away as a soundtrack

the trees are whispering echoes of laughter

and mini-me doctor with his shock of ginger hair

dances with his sister and self

yesterday socks and wellingtons soak up the beer

from the animal hat-ed groups

their neon paint smeared across their faces

There’s those sneaky groups of couples

who don’t register the queue

and the families who use their kids

as their reason to go first

before the middle class find the need

for a helpful chalky rennie

and as the music begins to fade

the lights dance across the sky

I find you took away my pillow

and now my heads under my heart.

The Perils of a Cyclist

Someone during my weekend adventure decided that they wanted to start a diatribe about how much they hated cyclists, he compared them to canoeist who float down the river right in the way of bigger boats. I decided not to argue with him (he's quite a bit bigger than me) but I did want to make the point that as cyclists, we have our problems too, and we do not like getting the blame for being in the way. (we're legal road users too!!)

So, i've decided to tell you about some of the perils of being a cyclist...

Blind drivers. I am quite obvious, I wear a big red and white helmet, and I generally ride in the road, not hugging the curb, how then, did you pull out of a parking space, cross the road, and pull into another space on the other side of the road without seeing me, even though I had been cycling down said road for a good 5 minutes.

Angry, Impatient Drivers. I came across a lady in her car trying to zip down the lane (it was an attractive option as it was empty) and as i cycled down the said lane, keeping to the left of the lane (the right of the lane was a concrete barrier and i wasn NOT being pushed into that in a hurry) she started to honk her horn, even though in the lane that I needed to be in as i was turning right, she drove off rather quickly after she got passed me, I hope because she realised she was wrong.

Drivers who like to use the bike lane. Most drivers get annoyed at cyclists taking up their lanes so they have to go around us, understandable to a certain point, now why do you need to take up my little red lane (that isn't really big enough for me as it is) so that i can't get down the road, and don't get me started about the drivers who sit in the red boxes at junctions... THEY ARE TO PROTECT CYCLISTS!!

Anyway....

One of the most dangerous perils for a cyclist is in fact other cyclists, the posh types who like to scowl at you and shake their heads when you decided that although you are on the right of the park path, it would be more dangerous to go to the left (and correct) as there are pedestrians and her coming towards you.

If you are a cyclist who likes to use the park paths, and the bike paths (those that are part of the pavement but split into two for bikes and pedestrians) then you should be warned of people. That's right, I said people. Grown ups who like to stroll down the path clearly marked with a white bike, children who run around crazily and even dogs (not kept on leads) who stroll so slowly down the middle of the path that you have to stop just in case.

*insert disclaimer here, I actually like people, children and animals*

But for all the perils, cycling is a good thing, wasn't the most exciting thing when you were a kid when you got your first bike and you finally got the stabalizers off? So at what point did cycling become something that people started to resent? (because god forbid we shouldn't try and get fit and save the envirnoment a little) It makes no sense...but then alot of things don't!

And on that note I am off to recover from the latest peril, Marcus and the stationary bicycle, 150RPM is not human, so I need an Ice bath.

The Short Story Conundrum

"Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short' Henry David Thoreau. The short story has always perplexed me, I must admit that there are very few that I have actually had the time or inclination to sit down and read, and I find that if I am about to invest some time in a story and its characters, I want a good few hundred pages, not just a few. I would now like to stand corrected. I have not suddenly taken to reading short stories, nor have I had a knock to the head and all my previous decisions have been made the polar opposite, but I have had the painful task of actually writing a short story. One of my new years resolutions for 2010 was to submit some of my own work, whatever it may be, to magazines or competitions. It has taken me 6 months, and a good few false starts but last friday I hit the send button on an email submitting my very first (well 3rd really but the first was crap, and the second really just looked like a long chapter) short story into the open world. I am not expecting to win this competition, I wasn't even really expecting the email that confirmed that they received my story so I have put it out of my mind (which is an obvious lie but I'm not about to get into that now) for now, but it was a very enlightening experience. This short story took me a good few weeks to write, the idea was very simple, and I didn't have a long list of characters to fill in the details but it still took me a while to find the confidence to write. I am a soul of very little confidence at the best of time however the prospect of a completely new genre being submitted to some fancy writing people to chose if its good enough terrified me and was a very good reason for the numerous thoughts i had about jacking it in. I now have a great, great, great respect for short story writers, more so that the novel writers, they have hundreds of pages to get their thoughts across, to come up with a feasible beginning, middle and end and to sort their characters out with some sort of resolution. Even with the restricted parameters of the short story, you still have to get all of those things into very few pages. I have a big problem with my stories, I write in chapters, I write the beginning, middle and end, but it fits into the bigger picture, I cannot just restrict it to a small scale. Anyone who can do that, with a nice finality to the end of the story, is my hero, and I shall bow down to you all if you can do that. I think I might read some more short stories now, delve into the smaller world, and learn a little bit more about the craft, you never know, one day I might write another one.

What's right in Twitter World?

Welcome Tweople to the Twitterverse for a tweethearts view on life and Twitter...

Now, if most of that first sentance didn't make sense to you, and you think that I have in fact joined a bizzare cult and learnt a whole new language, then you probably don't enjoy the 140 character life updates that are allowed on Twitter.

I've often wondered why some people tweet (for the uninitiated thats an update on what you're doing in the confines of 140 characters) what they do tweet, and if there are some subjects that are just avoided on principle. I know I don't talk about work, or where I live, or more personal things, but I must admit that it is very cathartic to just rant away in such a small little white box, you can work out just what you are feeling, and let everyone else know. I like that I can discuss my political viewpoints and some key issues to me and not worry that I am going to be judged for it, I can for all intent and purpose, by myself, but a more concise and interesting me.

Is there anything you wouldn't tweet about? And is it the same and things you wouldn't not be comfortable talking to your friends about? Or are you really fully aware that strangers can read just what you're thinking or doing.

Some people are quite happy to tweet that they just stepped in poo...

"Have given up on eve stroll because a) I'm being bitten alive b) I've trod in cow poo c) I need the loo..." (@Leedsbird)

Some people are quite happy to tweet about things you probably wouldn't ring someone just to tell them...

"Bought my phone a sock, it's time my communication device has *real* comfort" (@MissPeg)

And some celebrities just forget that they have a vast following who might die a little from happiness at the next tweet...

"Well I can check "strip in a Louisiana bar while writhing around on Ty Burrell's lap" off the ole bucket list." (@Olivawilde)

Twitter seems to have an over arching theme of acting like friend, counsellor, judge and jury all at once, you can get feedback on any comment almost immediately, and you can offer someone else a word of encouragement (or 140 characters) if you think they need it. For the most part though, it seems to be happy, political, and active, its about getting involved, and having your say, even if its just by who you are following. (I am choosing to ignore that there is 'celebrity bashing' or 'fake people pretending to be celebrities' on twitter as so far i've avoided these 'lovely' people.)

Soon someone will make money out of creating a personality test for your 'i follow' list, and you'll worry about whether you should admit to liking a celebrity just because everyone can see, but for now many of us revel in the geek status it affords us. We can see what 'such and such' is doing next week, and who 'so and so' is having dinner with this Friday, and you might even find out that your 'real life' friend is coming to visit.

Now, there are two things about twitter that I would like some clarification on...

Trending topics: now, how the chuff do these work? Do people just spend all their time typing one word? Do you have to hash tag, or will it work without one? I have no idea how somethings get on there, is there a set number or times it needs to be mentioned? Or is it the right people tweeting about something, I'm obviously not cool enough to get something trending, so I shall, for now, just sit on the outskirts and laugh at how often, and how irate, the argument between pro JB'ers and anti JB'ers gets on trending topics!

Retweets: I get the whole, lets show support for important/funny events, and retweeting people you are following is cool, that’s a given, but why when you write something that bears no resemblance to anyone else’s life (its time and person specific) do random tweople retweet it? I don't know you, and I don't know why my ability to do something is now newsworthy... (though as a flip side when someone 'important' in twitter world re-tweets your comment to them, that is a GOOD feeling!)

Now the next step is to harness the power of twitter for the business, if someone has worked out how to do this, please let me know, I don't have a business, but if I can harness twitter I might just get one to be cool!

So, to mark my ability to get lost in the twitterverse, and even write a blog about it, I wrote a poem about Twitter. Why don't you have a go, see if you can beat me and do it in 140 characters?

I chose to tell the world today
About my biscuit fascination
I told them of my favourite kind
And when I like to eat them,
And then I constantly update
With a picture of my plate.

I tell the world about my good days
And more so when it’s bad
I tell the world about my sad days
And when I’ve got a little mad.

I chose to tell the world today
About the list I have of chores
About my plans to do it all
And when I just get bored,
And then I constantly remind
What a mess I’ve left behind.

I chose to tell the world today
About everything I do
And then I might even update
On what, I haven’t got a clue.

(c) Itinerant Poet 2010

"My hopes rise and fall"

It took us 6 months to finally get here, (and that doesn't include the time waiting for the first one after we'd bought the tickets) but last night was finally LA ROUX at the Academy!
Monday night is not normally conducive to festivities of any kind, let alone an hours drive out of the city, in rush-hour traffic (and an accident - not us, someone else) but it turned out to be a very nice evening.
Myself and the wife (to be) rocked up and found ourselves a nice little spot (which later turned out to be a little less nice as lady next to us seems to have dancing disease and couldn't stop flinging her long hair in our faces). And as we are currently rocking the 'only drinking once a week and not at all even if there is some kind of event on' vibe we supped on tap water and waited, all the while feeling very very old, and almost as if we were babysitting the first years at university all over again!!

Ou Est le Swimming Pool - Support band
New bands always come under the banner "connect them to a different band and add a verb or adjective to them to define them"... These ones are no exception... Friendly Fires/Hot Chip but rockier and a much more enjoyable set than we'd expected as we're a little sick of the one song that seems to be played on the evening shows on R1. Definitely a band to keep an eye out for (one of the lead singers looks like Andy Murray) and they were energetic and personable which makes for a very good support band. They even worked well as warm up to La Roux which meant that you didn't even notice that the set had gone by so quickly.



La Roux - The main event!!
I shall prefix this next paragraph with the one word that summed it up... AWESOME!
I shall now continue... Ellie Jackson was brilliant, in fact the whole band were, she hit all the notes (if you know the album you will know that there are some pretty high notes) and managed to come across as friendly and lovely, and you really just wanted to sit down and have a beer with her and ask her how her day went. The music was top notch, and the added joy was a lovely little acoustic set (sat in a car seat) playing the guitar... its a beautiful song "Saviour" and I shall (once this blog is done) go and hunt it down. It was nice to be reminded of their background, and a nice interlude to the dancey synth stuff of the rest of the night.

A number of people have commented in recent months, on my like-ness to Ellie, I'm pretty sure its the ginger hair, however some people are really really sure that we must be some long lost relatives of sorts... so this leaves me in a quandary, I have a mini-crush on her (as an artist and song-writer - I don't fancy her), and I must admit i really did want to steal all of Ellie's clothes, (i am actually going to make my own Gold striped leggings over the weekend). and be able to carry off the quiff with a little bit more conviction than i do at the moment (i wimp out at a really long one)... but...If I want her clothes and to dance like her is that a little bit egotistical of me to feel like i can try to be her just because the odd person said we look alike, or can i carry off the fact that i just like her style and ignore the fact that we look alike? argh!! (as a side note it seems that my family is very prone to singer-look-alike ness, my sister is the spit of Avril Lavigne!!)

So, I think I will just listen to the music, and blame my 80s fascination for the sudden appearance of gold leggings and the green boyfriend blazer that I seemed to have acquired a while ago...

The sportman/woman

I've often wondered if I'd actually had time at school away from being a geek in the wrong social groups and actually taken the time to do more sport would I have been any good??

This may be a random thought process, after all it's been nearly 9 years since I left secondary school and a long time since I embraced my geekdom but today got me thinking.

Myself and the 'wife' played squash today, we've started to play once a week and it's a good way to get some exercise but I often get to the point where if I'm not playing as well as I feel and I can I get really frustrated with myself. In the end I play worse for the tantrum than if I accepted that I should just relax and play. I've always thought that I just have high expectations of myself and think that I should try harder and when I struggle I blame myself and get cross with me. But recently it's come out that unless you really know me this might just come across as a big strop and very unsportsmanlike and a bit crap.

Can I still be very sportsmanlike and still have high standards of myself??
I've never managed to stick at a sport, at the moment I am a 'what if' kind of sportsman I seem to make a Very good beginner but then something gets in the way... Cricket at school- on the boys team but no one to play, squash- I didn't think I was very good so I didn't play for school more than once, rugby- played in the US but damaged my knee in the uk and now work and life stops me joining a team, fencing- knee damaged, archery- good beginner but...

So really I just find an excuse not to be good at something, I don't give it a go in case I'm crap, which is an odd juxtaposition as in my writing I still do it even if I don't think I'm very good...
Is it just a personal flaw in self confidence or circumstance that's always just stopped me finding out??

It's a complicated world...

It feels like a Thursday, but that in itself is no bad thing, i quite like Thursdays, and the added bonus is that it is actually Friday, which means that it is indeed the weekend (and by it being Friday means that I get my weekly Keeley Hawes fix!!).

Politics seems to be the buzz word today, I get why we need to pay attention to the results from the General Election, however we had BBC News24 playing all day (via the wonders of the internet) at work and until i disappeared downstairs at 2pm they hadn't even mentioned that the rest of the world existed... were we watching some magical time machine that kept going back to the start of the hour as if the rest of the news didn't exist, or had my colleague actually just put the election bits on and I was just being dumb... it's interesting...

As a side note, its the Malvern Flower Show tomorrow (well it's actually on over the whole weekend but I'm going tomorrow) so I can pretend to myself that I'm a) a horticulturalist b) a photographer c) I have a garden to put all my purchases in... Sometimes if I close my eyes its very easy to put myself 5 years in the future where I have all these things and can revel in them, is it stupid to dream of a garden as opposed to something more important? I think maybe thats the me dreaming as I sit in my 2nd Floor Flat in an affluent area of the city where all I can do is look at our poor Charlie the chilli plant and wish it looked a little bit more alive (the cold weather has frozen it I think!)

DCI Gene Hunt is about to do something rash, so I might leave it on that note...

Thinking point of the entry....

Can you justifiably dream of something, or desire something, merely because you don't have it, or is it merely the not having that makes you want it...

Edit: Thanks to my first follower (SP) and some new dawn rational sense I realised that this might be taken as being the same thing... what I meant to say is...

Do you dream of something because it is your ideal and something that you really want, or do you just want it because you don't have it... or do these things live hand in hand and therefore cannot be separated?!

IP