tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14709470032379221062024-03-05T20:38:03.443-08:00A Mirrored Pool of ThoughtA Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-14835164998154757482014-02-10T13:36:00.001-08:002014-02-10T13:42:07.585-08:00There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.<span lang="">Oh, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day ... i find it quite perplexing. Most people love it or hate it (depending on their relationship status i suppose), but i genuinely don't know my opinion on it. <br />
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I'm one of life's serial singletons, I've never even received a Valentine's Day card, ever .... Although i did once receive some beautiful flowers .. which were completely unexpected, which i think is what is often missing from Valentine's Day, it seems to be dominated by girls expecting their other half to buy them gifts, and the boys do it so that they're not in trouble. It's supposed to be romantic, where's the element of surprise?!<br />
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The day seems to be one big game of oneupmanship and only serves to make those that are alone feel completely unloved. Which, admitedly i do sometimes feel on the day itself when everyone around me are gloating about their flowers and cards and beautiful , magical, perfect evening plans, but then i take solace in the fact that most of these people will probably be moaning about "Dave not pulling his weight around the house" or "liking every photo that bitch puts on Facebook"* the next day while i'll be sat at home in a nice hot bath in the quiet, with a book, being glad i'm not dating Dave ... Anymore.<br />
<br />
But then i do see glimpses of genuine love being shown on this day, and even though i'm a sad, lonely love cynic i'm a massive secret romantic at heart (please don't tell anyone). It's nice that there are things happening in the world on this one day of the year that are making people smile, and this can never be a bad thing .. Even if the only only ones smiling are the bosses of Hallmark.</span><br />
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</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Some names have been changed for <span lang="EN-GB">anonymity</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span><span lang=""><span style="font-size: x-small;">purposes ... Mainly so i don't get in trouble.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-71824631304191478102014-01-10T10:27:00.000-08:002014-01-10T16:00:04.784-08:00I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will. I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you know me you will probably already know that i'm a little bit of a bookworm. I love books, actual books, not e-readers. I do have an e-reader but only for when i'm travelling and having 5 paperbacks is not practical. I read from a book every day without fail. I read everything from the classics, to crime, to poetry, fiction, non-fiction, most books i will give a go .. Although i'm dreadful at starting a book then getting bored or forgetting about it and going on to a new one. I love the words, the magic that some people can create is amazing just from the placing together of a few words, i'd love to be able to write like some of the authors i've read. My favourite book is One Day by David Nicholls. It's a perfectly beautiful love story. But a more real love story. Not like the crap you get in 'chick-lit', i hate 'chick-lit' it's all so predictable, and often, badly written (do not get me started on the atrocity that is 50 Shades of Gray). One Day is a story about two best friends and where they both are in life at exactly the same day (15th July) throughout the years starting from the day in which they meet and become best friends and unbeknownst to them (well Dex anyway), become soul mates. Dex and Em, Em and Dex .. i love these characters. It's a hard book to write about because the story sounds simple and somewhat 'chick litty' but it isn't. Some of my favourite quotes are from this book:</span></span><br />
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</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"What are you going to do with your life?" In one way or another it seemed that people had been asking her this forever; teachers, her parents, friends at three in the morning, but the question had never seemed this pressing and still she was no nearer an answer... "Live each day as if it's your last', that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn't practical. Better by far to be good and courageous and bold and to make difference. Not change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved, if you ever get the chance."</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will. I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry."</em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"In eight years not a day has gone by when she hasn’t thought of him. She misses him and she wants him back. I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right."</em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Occasionally, very occasionally, say at four o’clock in the afternoon on a wet Sunday, she feels panic-stricken and almost breathless with loneliness. Once or twice she has been known to pick up the phone to check that it isn’t broken. Sometimes she thinks how nice it would be to be woken by a call in the night: ‘get in a taxi now’ or ‘I need to see you, we need to talk’. But at the best of times she feels like a character in a Muriel Spark novel – independent, bookish, sharp-minded, secretly romantic." </em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"Their friendship was like a wilted bunch of flowers that she insisted on topping up with water. Why not let it die instead?"</em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"...Emma Morley wasn't such a paragon either: pretentious, petulant, lazy, speechifying, judgmental. Self-pitying, self righteous, self-important, all the selfs except self-confident, the quality that she had always needed the most." </em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"She made you decent, and in return you made her so happy" </em></span><br />
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</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"The problem with all these fiercely individualistic girls was that they were all exactly the same."</em></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If i add any more i may aswel just copy the whole book .. i won't .. buy it, in paperback .. Not for your Kindle! Even though i say it isn't your regular 'chick-lit' i do think it's a girls book ... but if you're a bloke, read it, let me know whether you like it, maybe (probably) i'm being presumptuous. It's beautiful, happy, sad, poignant, thought-provoking, funny, definitely worth a read.</span></span> </span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-84849187331349408192014-01-08T14:48:00.000-08:002014-01-08T14:48:25.290-08:00What lies behind appearance is usually another appearance.<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't really do New Year resolutions. Nobody ever follows them, not for more than a month anyway. Go to my gym on January 1st and it is rammed, go on February the 1st and it's dead ... This happens every year, i pray for February to come so that i can park in time to get to my 5.30-pm class. They should be called month promises or some such thing. But this year i've got a resolution. I'm wearing lipstick, every day. It's not a serious resolution, it doesn't affect anything, but i quite like wearing lipstick.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday someone questioned why i wear makeup every day. Now, i don't wear it every day, if i'm not leaving the house i won't wear it, if i'm just popping to the shops i won't wear it, but i do wear it for work every day. I think the comment went something along the lines of "Why do you feel the need to wear makeup? You're pretty enough without it" .. Firstly, i'm not pretty enough without it and secondly i don't 'feel the need' . I don't need to wear it, i like to wear it. I enjoy the application of makeup, i've been known on a particularly boring day to take my makeup off and reapply it differently. I don't trowel it on like some girls, i don't make myself orange (i don't think, i hope ... tell me if i do!), i don't look like a drag queen (of which there is nothing wrong with looking like ... if you are a drag queen). Some people say "oh i like girls who are naturally pretty" not realising that 99% of these girls that they think are naturally pretty have spent and hour doing 'natural' makeup. It bugs me when people judge people on how they look, whether it be because they have makeup on, or because they haven't, because they have dreadlocks or blonde extensions .. stop it, stop judging. Maybe i've read too much into a harmless comment, maybe he caught me when i was moody .. It's not hard. ;)</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-76538074994884857312014-01-05T11:48:00.000-08:002014-01-10T15:00:08.705-08:00Our life is what our thoughts make it.<span lang=""><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been reading other blogs today, lots of blogs .. The internet seems to be full of them. I've been trying to gain a bit of inspiration as to what to write about in my blog now i'm back. It's nice, I like the idea that there are millions of people just like me verbal diarrhoeaing onto their keyboards. Except most aren't like me. Most have some kind of theme, rather than just nattering about what their brain is thinking, boring stuff, unimportant stuff, random stuff, jumping from one topic to another. It doesn't bother me that my blog is just full of my own idiocyncracies, I love the idea that in 40 years time my grandkids will get some small insight into what was on my mind at a certain point in history. Or, when I become Queen of England people can see what I was like as a 'normal' person.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Women's blogs, on the whole, tend to be one of three topics. Fashion, food or children. If I had to write about one of these three things I would be buggered (am i allowed to say buggered on a blog?)..... I have absolutely zero interest in fashion. I like pretty clothes like most women, but I could never be fashionable. I'm not saying that I don't have anything that is fashionable, but if I do it is an accident ... I don't know what is fashionable at any one moment. I wear clothes that i like, because they suit me, or because i find them ridiculously pretty, not because of the name, or because Kate Moss was seen wearing it (Kate Moss?! how 90's am I?!). Food .. Oh food .. I love food, but I have about 3 specialities ... Carla's food blog would be the smallest blog in the world. Oh correction .. Carla's baby blog would be the smallest in the world, as I don't have any.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, yeah, I didn't get much inspiration as to what to write about, so i apologise to those of you who often read what I write (for a lot of you probably out of loyalty, because you know me ... and for this I love you!) because I will definitely be sticking to my randomness, unless that is, I pop into Topshop and get sucked into that world and become a fashionista .. I'm excited for that day (don't hold your breath).</span></span><div id="fb-root"></div>
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</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I opened a new online business (</span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com/idrewthishandmadecrayons"><u><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="">www.facebook.com/idrewthishandmadecrayons</span></span></span></u></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="">) making wax crayons.</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a dip-dye on my hair.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've got pink hair!</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will be having blue hair.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been on 7 first dates.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5 second dates.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 third dates.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 multiple dates.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 declaration of undying love (not made by me, by a man, an actual man, actually to me, yes, me! - this would make a ridiculously funny blog but i'm too scared to share incase he reads).</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 chest infection.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">1 tattoo.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 punch (thrown by me ... It was rather a good one too!).</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Dublin break (this will be a blog).</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4 serious hangovers.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 26th birthday (i won't be correcting this!).</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">About 12 books started.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4 books finished.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 knobhead neighbour.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 falls.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lots of tears.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Much more laughter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I seem to be finding it difficult to remember what happened to me last year, my memory is shocking at the moment, i'm tired. I will update with some proper writing soon then we can all never mention this blog again and it can slip down the list into obscurity.</span><br />
<br />A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-88916407430026885122012-08-10T14:29:00.001-07:002012-08-19T05:43:36.267-07:00A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
Ot oh …. I’m scared I might be turning into a boy. I’m starting to like boys films .. this worries me. Last night I went to watch the new Batman movie and thoroughly enjoyed it and got stupidly excited at the idea that there might be a fourth. There. better. be. a. fourth. Granted I’ve never been a chick flick kind of girl, I like some chick flicks but only the better quality of chick flick like Bridesmaids or the classics such as Dirty Dancing, but ask me to watch something starring Channing Tatum, Lindsay Lohan the cast of Gossip Girl/Vampire Diaries/Glee or anything based in an American high school and I’ll probably say no, run away or fall asleep. But similarly if I have to watch a film starring Van Damme, Statham (although he is beautiful!) or the former Governor of California then you’ll probably find that my phone is out for the majority of it .. sending out some kind of SOS text. I can’t be doing with films that have more guns, blood and gore than it does dialogue. So why did I like Batman? Comic books are stupid, stories for kids/grownup kids (ahem.. geeks). Granted Christian Bale is not at all bad to look at, especially with lack of shirt … he does however seem to put on some comedy Batman voice, which kinda sounds like the voices girls do when we put a man voice on. Oh oh and Michael Caine is in it, I love Michael Caine! Him and Ray Winstone have the best voices in the history of the world. I also really liked Anne Hathaway as Catwoman, i'm a bit biased though because i've always quite liked the Hathaway. And then there is the supervillain .. Bane? Something like that .. he's suitably scary and has also been given a comedy voice. I did do a bit of a random giggle half way through the film at a particularly suspenseful dramatic - not comediac -point when i realied what his voice reminded me of, the X Factor voiceover man!!! He sounded just like him .. i half expected him to go "I will kill you Batman ... it's Rachel Adedeje!!!!"</div>
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Oh oh i can't talk about Batman without honourable mention to the late Heath Ledger as Joker in the Dark Knight .. he was actually, completely amazing it. Hollywood definitely lost one of the good ones.</div>
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ok this blog post seems a bit mish mashed, it's late, and my mind is being rubbish after a bad nights sleep so i've kinda just written stuff as my mind is coming up with it, rather than trying to think coherently and organise my thoughts ... i shall probably do a massive edit at some point. I can't even think of a suitable way to end the post ... so, erm, yeah, The End.</div>
A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-71529553173358211232012-07-08T13:36:00.000-07:002012-07-08T13:36:07.445-07:00Why do fools fall in love?<span lang="">So ... the dating website. There's a bit of a stigma about being on one. I'm on one for the second time (although not a paid one ... i'm not quite that desperate yet ... hi stigma), and admittedly 90% of the men on there are complete freaks but in a world where men don't go up to women in the street like they do in the movies to ask women out there is not much choice. I certainly don't want to find someone through a drunken haze during the friday night meat market in town .. half because that's not really the syle of the kinda men i like, secondly because i'm somewhat too old for the majority of them. :( and in a little sleepy town, the men aren't all that eligible.<br />
<br />
I told my sister today that i was meeting a man and she asked where i met him ... i haven't met him, we've been speaking on a dating website making this our first time of meeting, she screwed up her face and went 'ooh i couldn't do that'. I have checked with him that he isn't an axe murderer though. I have genuinely told him he is banned from murder on this night and he has given me his word that he will leave his axe and/or chainsaw at home. If needs be i will frisk him to make sure ... i probably will need to ... he is rather attractive.<br />
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Some men seem to think that the way to a womans heart is via insults. I'm currently engaging one man in conversation who has called me a 'f*cking b*tch' a 'retard' and has just told me to 'sort my face out' another called me 'a hoe' telling me that he could tell i was by my face! I must admit, i quite like these messages, they entertain me and don't seem to know how to handle a woman that can retaliate in an eloquent way and just explode into a tirade of insults. Most however, are nice, it's just a shame i seem to attract the elderly and men that tlk lk dis bbe. Luckily i've spotted a few gems and just hope i'm not on there for too much longer, there's only so long i can cope with the copy and pasted 'oh my god how can a girl like you be here, are the boys near you blind' (without question marks) only to get the exact same message a few days later from the same men after they've forgotten they have messaged me already. Yawn.</span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-88512436549814664922012-07-08T05:45:00.000-07:002012-07-08T05:45:23.561-07:00The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education<span lang="">It's that time of year again, people are finishing University, coming out into the big wide world all fresh faced and bushy tailed. The ambitious thinking theyll be on 40k before the year is out, the Peter Pans that think they can travel the world and that they won't be back a few years later in debt and back at mum and dads. This was once me, if someone told me 7 years later (ouch!) i'd still not know where i was going and what i was doing i wouldn't have believed them. After Uni you get a good job and/or get married and have children yes? Living happily ever after? I did it wrong.<br />
<br />
However, i wouldn't change my University days for the world (except maybe my course) all my best memories are from that place. I started University in 2002 an incredibly shy, mousey girl who wouldn't say boo to a goose, i credit that place and the amazing friends i made there for bringing me out of my shell and making me the person i am today. The friends you make there you will remember for the rest of your life (cliche yadda yadda) .. but the thought that they will stay in your world for the rest of your life is ridiculous, they all slowly fade away as they grow up and live their lives a tvarious different points of the country. There's always that one though that you really gel with and will keep with you for life. My Uni friend is Charlotte. I remember the first time i met her, she had the room opposite me and i was moving stuff into my room while she was doing the same, she was playing that Kelly Rowland and Nelly song, i don't remember the name (yet i can sing it) but at the time i loved that song (my music taste then was even worse then than it is now!) .. we bonded for the first time over a mutual love of Kelly and Nelly! She was my original partner in crime, we distracted ourselves with michevious pranks on our poor unsuspecting housemates. Namely Hannah, Hannah was a tall, well spoken 'Daddy has a boat' kind of girl ... a weird girl. I could never decide whether i liked Hannah, she was quite irritating, but anyone that knows me knows that i don't dislike people easily so i was one of few that tolerated her. Well, except for when Charlotte and I were playing tricks on her ..nothing major, infact nothing that i'm going to discuss here because they really were 'you had to be there' kinda things. Charlotte and I could laugh for hours about them, anyone else, however would look at us like we were mental ...we probably were, we probably are. Charlotte is still very much a part of my life, we don't see each other as much as we'd like, she lives in the Lake District, but when we do we eat lots, drink lots and gossip about boys (ahem men) as if we were still sat in our Uni dorms, and i'm still very proud to have been her Maid of honor at her wedding a few years back, i still don't feel like we're old enough for stuff like that Char!<br />
<br />
As for University itself, the course i studied and have a 2:1 BSc(hons) degree in is Applied Social Studies. Admitedly when it came to Uni time i didn't know what it was i wanted to do i just needed to get away from college (i'd gone to do extra A'Levels after i'd finished 6th form because i wasn't quite ready for the moving away stuff). I chose a course that i thought sounded nice and varied, which it was, in hindsight though too varied, it's the specfic, individualised courses that get you the jobs when you finish. My course consisted of modules on Psychology, Sociology, Working with Non-Statutory Agencies, Politics, Social Work, Heath Studies, Social Problems and Social Issues, Forensic Psychology, Comparative Social Welfare, Social Research, Crime & Deviance, Working With Offenders .. and breathe ... i was swapping from module to module so frequently that by the time i got my teeth into a subject i was moving on to the next. It did however mean that i have knowledge in a wide variety of subjects even if not to the depth i'd have liked. I have kept every single assignment i ever wrote for my course, i got a 2:1 in each (except research, which i found the most boring, but weirdly got a good 1st in), i read them all recently and although i did well i could have done better. I was one of those students that did nothing until the night before an assignment was due .. i've always liked pressure, i much preferred exams to assignments. But i think if i'd have sat down in advance i'd have been able to delve into much more research on the topic and maybe presented my arguments in a more eloquant and structured manner. My dissertation was on the psychology of murderers and the nature vs nurture debate. I have always been fascinated by killers and why it is that they can commit such horrific acts so i loved doing my dissertation (even if i did do it in a week!). I of course came to a mixed conclusion .. noone knows why, it's a bit of both ... but more nurture .. so i believe. I did my assignments in the days of the 3 and 1/2 inch floppy disk ...urgh .. so i only have hard copies .. i do hate that i don't have them on my computers ... Otherwise i'd let people have a read ... ok maybe i wouldn't.<br />
<br />
But the 3 years i spent at University was, as the grown ups always say, the best years of my life. People say when they didn't go to University that they 'studied at the University of life' but for me, University taught me about life. As well as actual academia it taught me about friendships, living alone, boys ... cooking .. working a washing machine (kinda) .. the things you don't learn living at mum & dads, working at Morrisons on the checkouts. So if you ever get the chance, go .... one day, i'll go back.</span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-36200140129196626332012-07-08T04:36:00.001-07:002012-07-08T04:36:16.904-07:00How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.<strong><u>I thought that I could not be hurt<br /></u></strong>I thought that I could
not be hurt;<br />I thought that I must surely be<br />impervious to
suffering-<br />immune to pain<br />or agony.<br /><br />My world was warm with April
sun<br />my thoughts were spangled green and gold;<br />my soul filled up with joy,
yet<br />felt the sharp, sweet pain that only joy<br />can hold.<br /><br />My spirit
soared above the gulls<br />that, swooping breathlessly so high<br />o'erhead, now
seem to to brush their whir-<br />ring wings against the blue roof of<br />the
sky.<br /><br />(How frail the human heart must be-<br />a throbbing pulse, a
trembling thing-<br />a fragile, shining instrument<br />of crystal, which can
either weep,<br />or sing.)<br /><br />Then, suddenly my world turned gray,<br />and
darkness wiped aside my joy.<br />A dull and aching void was left<br />where
careless hands had reached out to<br />destroy<br /><br />my silver web of
happiness.<br />The hands then stopped in wonderment,<br />for, loving me, they wept
to see<br />the tattered ruins of my firma-<br />ment<br /><br />(How frail the human
heart must be-<br />a mirrored pool of thought. So deep<br />and tremulous an
instrument<br />of glass that it can either sing,<br />or weep).<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I wish i could write like this. This is my favourite of all the poems, closely followed by another of Plath's work 'Apprehensions' .. honorable mention to Shakespeare's 'All the World's a Stage' and the final verse of 'Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her' by Christopher Brennan. I tried my hand at poetry writing when i was a teenager, probably the best time to write, full of emotion yet not yet tainted by the negativities of life. I kinda wish i'd have kept them.<br />
<br />
I love the written word.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-55469424816224685312012-05-29T08:32:00.000-07:002014-01-05T11:55:47.931-08:00My wish isn't to mean everything to everyone but something to someone.<div class="ecxmsonormal" style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 16.2pt;">
<span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes I wish ….</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That I was special, that I was brave enough to take chances, that people meant what they said, that I could sing, that I could run, that once the temperature got to 20 degrees Celsius work would be cancelled, that I could wear my sunglasses all year round, that I had a pretty face, that my nails wouldn’t break, that I had chance to write more, that I had a longer attention span, that people didn’t argue, that families loved each other unconditionally, that I knew where my ring was, that wasps and bees would disappear, that I could lie-in, that I could eat chocolate every day, that I had a talent, that I didn’t keep things to myself, that more days were different, that I could go to the gym in the mornings, that my car would start, that the pigeons would get their own balcony far away from mine, that I had a Greggs sausage roll, that my flowers wouldn’t die, that I was shorter, that Wild At Heart didn’t exist, that I was good enough, that I could draw, that I didn’t have to work, that I could catch up, that I had a puppy, that Alfie had a perfect heart, that the people I love lived closer, that I was never alone, that I had more space, that people would smile more, that I could travel to far away places, that I saw more sunshine, that I wasn’t aware of Justin Bieber, that I could play an instrument, that I was photogenic, that bicycles were banned from the road, that I liked more adventurous food, that I lived in a city, that I was less pale, that I was loved, that my mind didn’t wait until I got in bed to go into overdrive, that I didn’t care, that I wasn’t so clumsy, that I was as good as her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">luckily, sometimes is sometimes.</span></span> </div>
<div class="ecxmsonormal" style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 16.2pt;">
<br /></div>
A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-15812818963873564852011-11-18T13:13:00.000-08:002011-11-18T13:13:14.524-08:00The greatest accomplishment is not in never falling, but in rising again after you fall<span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a bit of a funny story. Probably, as with most stories it was funnier being there, but none-the-less ... hilarious! .. so i'm sharing. I was at the gym the other day with my friend Anne-Marie, tall, skinny, gorgeous girl, but in step aerobics it seems not so co-ordinated. We were mid-step class, most of us had got the routine down and were speeding it up. Anne lost her footing, i didn't quite see whether she tripped over the box or over thin air, but she went down. But no, it wasn't just your average 'You've Been Framed'-esque fall to the floor, she kind of steadied herself on the way down by grabbing the trousers of the girl behind her. But then decided to fall some more, still keeping hold of this poor woman's trousers ... taking them with her .. to the ground. At this point i, in hysterics, carried on with the routine that involved me turning around ... Anne, however, swears this lass had no knickers on .. of any kind. Glad i didn't see to be fair. Who goes to the gym knickerless?! ... mind you she probably could have never imagined that they'd end up round her ankles. I've never seen anyone run from the gym so quick when the class was over, this lass near on ran! Anne and I ended up leaving the gym half an hour late because we were literally bent over, crying with laughter ... made my week .. worth the monthly gym fee alone!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of the gems Anne came out with after the epic event:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'i felt mound'</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'i saw her vagine' (actually rhyming with machine never heard it called this before).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and just as we were leaving, eventually, she screwed up her face looked at her hands and goes </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'ew there's even something under my nail!'</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i've told her that she's not going near me in classes again ... and that i'm going to be wearing 3 pairs of pants .. with a belt .. and a padlock.</span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-48896415066124526842011-11-18T13:08:00.000-08:002011-11-18T13:17:55.547-08:00Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday we had a psychology session at work, we did a little bit of a task that got me thinking. The basic premise is that when we are stressed we forget the simple pleasures, ones that don't particularly cost any money. These are things that stimulate the five senses. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Most of our pleasures, most of the stimuli that make life worth living, are derived from our five senses</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">. </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had to close our eyes and think of our favourite things that stimulate one of our five sesnes. Taste, touch, sight, sound, smell. Just take a second, think of yours. I'm going to list some of my favourite things that stimulate my five senses (some are ones my colleagues came up with but that i agreed with so stolen).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Taste: Chocolate orange, grapes, truffles, yorkshire puddings, lipstick, Pimms.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Touch: Water, a man's hairy chest, play dough, putting your face in that pin toy we all used to have as kids, kisses.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sight: Bustling city centres, beaches, a man in a suit, snow, tulips.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sound: Alfie's giggle, Ed Sheeran's voice, David Bowie's voice, being told a funny story by someone who finds it so funny they can't complete what they are saying because they are finding it hard to breath from laughing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Smell: Roast dinners, Hugo Boss, candy floss, library books, flowers.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These would all put a bit of a smile on my face, so whenever i've got the face on, i shall look at these and try and indulge in at least the one.</span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-85925216424705105942011-11-05T13:08:00.000-07:002011-11-05T13:08:41.057-07:00You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">It's that time of year again, Strictly Come Dancing is on! I've always been a bit of a Strictly geek, i've watched it from the very beginning, i know liking the reality shows isn't cool .. but i'm anything but cool. I spend most of October/November/December wishing i'd learnt to dance as a child. I'd love to learn now. I did a dance class for a few years, that i loved, which ended recently but that was girls only, i want to dance with a partner. Preferably a handsome male one. There are many dance classes about where you're partnered, but i'm scared at what the men there would be like, old? pervy? weird? Granted a weird one might suit me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I think i might need to find a man to take myself. I'm willing to try bribary. I want to learn to do a Tango, an Argentine one. Such an intricate, sexy dance ...however, i feel my briary may have to include a lottery jackpot win. I wish men would realise that there is nothing sexier than a man that can dance (Louis Spence being an exception). Hmmph, if i looked like Ola Jordan or Kristina Rhiannof i'd have no problems finding a parner.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Dance is something we are all born with, stick on something that only vaguely resembles music and my baby nephew springs into action, wiggling around in the cutest of ways, give him 10 years and I bet the most we get out of him is a foot tap. It's not that he learnt to dance, he just knew that that was what he was supposed to do to music. So do it. Dance. Even if you resemble someone having a fit when you do, at least you will probably make someone smile (laugh) that's gotta be a good thing, surely?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching, <br />
Love like you'll never be hurt, <br />
Sing like there's nobody listening, <br />
And live like it's heaven on earth.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0">-William W. Purkey</span></span></span></span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-47310499074375988052011-10-21T15:18:00.000-07:002011-10-21T15:18:39.195-07:00He who is greedy is always in want.So this week I’ve watched a couple of the live Deal or No Deals and it has struck me how greedy people can be. The banker offers someone a reasonable sum, say £5k and the contestants react as if they’ve been offered a tripe sandwich and a signed copy of Jedward’s new book. I’d kill for £5k right now, it’d nicely buy me a second hand car, take me out of my overdraft and pay for me to have a bit of a holiday. Granted if I could choose between £5k and £250k the latter would win, but £5k for opening a few red boxes is a princely sum. I suppose it is a game, and you are supposed to play it, and we all want as much free money as possible, but it just bugs me when the smaller sums (even the red ones) count as a loss rather than a win. <br />
<br />
Apparantly tonights estimated jackpot for the Euro Millions was £41 million, which I’d gladly be greedy and take ownership of. Isn't it funny how after all these massive jackpots £1 million seems like not much at all, you wouldn’t want to spend a penny of it, as then you wouldn’t be a millionaire! I forgot to put the lottery on tonight (as i do most weeks if i'm honest) but winning it is the only way i'll ever be monetarily rich, i've never been Miss career girl. Well, i lie, when i was at Uni i couldn't understand these girls that didn't want to work and wanted to do the whole family thing, i thought they were mental. I quickly changed my mind, not because i'm lazy, i've no qualms with working hard, i've done so for many many years and have enjoyed it. But i find the idea of a family much more fulfilling than getting to the top in a chosen career field.<br />
<br />
Oh i went off on a tangent, surprise surprise. I started this blog while thinking about what it is i'd do if i won the lottery, i think i'd be rubbish with money, i'd have no clue what to do with it. I'd probably still catch the bus rather than take a first class flight, drink Black Tower rather than Cristal and wear New Look heels rather than Louboutins (ok i might buy a pair of Louboutins ... just 1 pair). I can imagine it takes a little while to get used to the way i have lived for the past 20ish (ahem) years. <br />
<br />
The things i'd definately do if i won the lottery:<br />
<br />
Pay for Alfie to have all his operations privately.<br />
Put money in a trust fund for Alfie and Molly<br />
Buy my flat to rent out.<br />
Buy a house ... maybe a cottage.<br />
Buy a car.<br />
Make sure everyone i love was comfortable and mortgage free.<br />
Buy Elton John tickets for the B2Net.<br />
Visit Cuba and have a dance lesson on the beach at sunset.<br />
Take all my friends abroad for a massive holiday.<br />
<br />
Well .... that was a bit of a mish mash of a blog post .... when i began thinking it through it flowed so well and made so much sense in my head.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-49852927579537020112011-09-12T14:27:00.000-07:002011-09-12T14:45:22.263-07:0011th September 2001<span style="font-size: small;">I'm sure nobody managed to escape the fact that yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre or 9/11 as it's more commonly known. It's often said that you'll always remember what it is you were doing when you heard about the attacks. I kinda remember, my memory though is a bit sketchy. I know i was at home in my bedroom when my friend text me to tell me to put the news on, i can't quite remember what i was doing, clearly not watching telly, i think i may have been reading. Watching the series of events unfold was the singularly mosy distressing thing i have ever, and probably ever will witness. It was the weirdest feeling watching it, it kinda didn't feel real, but then you knew it was .. a real feeling of helplessness. Watching it i wanted to go to Iraq and defeat the Taliban myself singlehandedly. I always wonder where the people who oppose the war in Iraq were on this day, did they not see what i saw? What did they expect the Western world to do after 9/11 go 'oh those silly little extremists, always causing trouble'? War was our only option. It also bugs me when people cry out for us to withdraw our troops, granted, in an ideal world our boys wouldn't be out fighting but unfortunately it's that little bit of a necessity. We can't start a war then just leave everything in disarray, we need to finish what we start. I've many friends and relatives in the army some of whom have been in Afghanistan and Iraq, they don't moan about being there, they understand it's their job and it's what needs to be done. My brother will be being deployed to Afghanistan soon. Yes, it' scary, but as i say to my mum when she worries about him, he's more likely to get hurt on a drunken night out in Chesterfield than he is in Afghan. Not that that makes her feel any better. He's going to help our boys out there make our world a safer place.<br />
<br />
When i was about 14 i went on a school trip to New York and we spent a day at the towers, they truely were a magnificant piece or architecture, i was in awe of them. I was too scared to go up them in the lifts so i stayed on the bottom few storeys looking in the shops. I went back to the towers on the 2nd year anniversary of the attacks, i was quite keen to see the contrast between the two visits, the fact that it was a 9/11 anniversary was a coincidence, it wasn't planned. It was highly emotional, there was a massive memorial showing the names of all the victimes from that dreadful day making out the words 'never forget' it bought a tear to the most ardent of eyes. It didn't seem anything like the bustling place i visited when i was 14, it was still bustling .... with tourists .... as it was all those years ago, but as you can imagine it was much more of a sombre place ... i wonder what it's like 10 years on, i imagine not much less sombre.<br />
<br />
I cannot begin to imagine what any of the people involved in 9/11 felt on that day or what any of their loved ones have felt in the aftermath but my heart goes out to them at this difficult time, whether it be the anniversary of that fateful day or one of the other 364 days of the year.</span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-75943195591437940232011-09-10T12:14:00.000-07:002011-09-10T12:14:48.561-07:00I have had a holiday, and I'd like to take it up professionally.<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I'd not been on holiday for near on 5 years, so when i decided to go on one, as you can imagine, i was ready for it. The reason i worked on my dads market this summer was to save money so that i could go away. I went with my friend Sarah, we don't know where we wanted to go, we just knew we wanted somewhere all inclusive, somewhere hot and somewhere cheap. The place that perfectly fit this bill was Turkey. We booked to go to a little picturesque mountainous part called Ovacik near Fethiye and Hisaranu. We didn't fancy going somewhere too built up, touristy and commercialised so Ovacik was perfect.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We didn't arrive until about 4am in the morning so we didn't get to see much of our hotel, our room was pretty small, but since we only intended on sleeping and showering here we wasn't too bothered, it was clean and at that point that's all that mattered. We got up the first morning (about 4 hours after going to bed) to glorious sunshine and went for breakfast. This was one of very few times that we got up for breakfast, not necessarily because we are lazy but being a Muslim country they don't have sausages and bacon and stuff, so, for me, it was basically just toast ... although there might have been a little truth in the laziness reason, sleep definately trumps toast! The gardens and the pool area of the Destina hotel were beautiful, and the mountainous veiws were something else. That first day me and Sarah had a Turkish bath, we were exfoliated, foam massaged, and then had a face mask and oil massages. The massages were glorious, the Turkish bath part was nice although i must admit i'm wasn't keen on it being performed by a middle aged Turkish man. At one point i was laid there thinking 'arghh that exfoliator mitt is going a bit high up the thigh!' and 'yeah i think you've exfoliated my cleavage enough there love' ... the bloke was pretty harmless mind and i think i'm just that little bit of a prude.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Sarah and I are quite big fans of the vodka which is why we went for the all inclusive option, we thought even if we didn't really like the food we'd save a small fortune on the alcohol. So that first night we went to the bar for our first vodka, then i popped to the bar for a second, still drinking the first while walking past the bar Sarah decided to grab a third, i went for a fourth, this carried on since we were aware that the bar shut at 11pm and we didn't want to have to buy our drinks, we thought getting a stash in was the way to go ... BIG mistake ... one minute i went 'i'm not really feeling this vodka' and the next i'm being escourted up the stairs to our room by a Turkish man concerned with my ability, or lack thereof, to manouvre them. We were in bed for midnight, and a few hours afterwards i was that little bit sick, and Sarah was sick all the next morning, so i was lucky in a way, that i wasn't too bad the next morning. We learnt a lesson, foreign vodka is lethal! Needless to say the next night we stayed tea total and the nights after that we were a bit more cautious with the vodka!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A few days in we did the 12 Island or 'Cruise the Blues' tour. We got to stop at 4 small islands for a swim in the sea, which i loved, i love the water, i'm definately a water baby. But admitedly while swimming i was thinking of that poor bloke that got eaten by a shark on his honeymoon. We were pretty far out at sea, there must have been alsorts of creatures of the deep below our feet ... i made sure i swam near people that looked much more like shark bait than me, ahem, meatier people <3 and made sure my legs weren't down the deepest, swimming with my feet quite close to the surface .... my dramatic mind coming back into play it seems! Sunbathing on deck was gorgeous, there was a lovely breeze to make the intense Turkish sun more bareable. There was a weird photographer man onboard though that made me and Sarah pose for awful photographs on deck and then tried to get us to go back in his car after for a 'tour of his city' instead of on the coach with everybody else, like that was happening!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Even though i don't really have anything other than praise for the country, it is beautiful, one thing i wasn't keen on was the toilets, in Turkey you are not allowed to flush toilet paper down the toilets! How warped is that?! Why don't they build a few less hotels and sort out some proper sanitation? I was so glad i was sharing wth Sarah and not a boy, a boys toilet habits would not have been welcomed in my hotel room for sure! Not flushing toilet paper down the toilet was a hard habit to get into i was often going 'ooops i went all English' .... and lilos ... wtf is wrong with lilos! I thought i was dying blowing mine up, it took me one night and one morning to do, i was seriously contemplating just throwing the deflated bit of green plastic in and seeing what the chances were of me floating on that, i'm lighter than i used to be and everything! .. tip .. buy a ready blown up one.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">One of the most memorable moments involved a wasp. If you know me you will know how petrified of the things i am, i once queued for almost an hour for Oblivion at Alton Towers only to run back out of the queue, weaving through people being chased by an evil little wasp. I don't do the ridiculous 'stand still and it'll go away' malarky, i do the run like a maniac so it gets away from me malarky .. and i have to run in a sporadic twisty turny way to confuse it. Anyway, Turkey wasps are big daddy wasps, i swear, near on the size of my fist, ahem, kinda. One evening we came back after a hard days sunbathing by the pool only to find one sat on our bathroom light staring at us. After freaking out like girls and a 10 minute discussion on how to get rid of it so that we don't have to sleep in the coridoor we decided the best thing to do was to arm ourselves with a lilo each and throw a flip flop at it. Sarah threw the flip flop (my flip flop) missed the wasp entirely, but of course didn't manage to miss the toilet. I'm sure the wasp was laughing at us. We'd opened the main room door hoping if we did get it to move it would fly straight out when a maid walked past to see two hysterical English girls hugging lilos as if they were a coat of armour. This maid spoke zero English, so, after a few minutes of us miming wasp (speedily flapping our arms and buzzing) she went 'oh', grabbed some tissue paper, and casual as anything killed the wasp and put it in the bin .... that night ... we were scared of the bin.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I don't know whether any of you have ever been to a Turkish market but it's an experience i recommend everyone have. It's so funny. In Turkey they have no copyright laws so the markets are full of 'genuine fakes' they do look very good, Louis Vuitton, Mulberry, Christian Dior, they have them all, and they try everything in their power to sell them to you. Giving you apple tea, flattering you, taking you by the hand and physically dragging you into their stall ... some of the lines they come out with are amazing 'cheaper than Primark!' 'cheaper than Poundland!' 'Cheaper than stealing!' 'Come and get your quality crap' 'as good as off the back of a lorry'. Sarah became 'J-Lo' and me 'Shakira' ... yeah i'm still a brunette, i think these were the only Western female celebrities that they knew. One was selling underwear and was shouting at me that i could get my 'big knickers' off him .. i think telling him i didn't wear knickers was a mistake though since i was trying to dissipate his attentions. It was a funny morning tbf, not for the meek though.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The last day we got a bit cultural and went on the Dalaman tour, we got to see the tombs where they used to bury the royalty, they were magnificant ... we also got to see giant sea tutles being fed .. i would quite like one of these as a pet ... i have a bath. We got to have a mud bath also, i can't quite decide whether i liked this or not, it was bizarre smearing yourself in mud then sunbathing until it set ... but my skin did feel pretty soft afterwards.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">All in all it was a fabulous holiday, i enjoyed getting away from it all and me and Sarah had a laugh. Turkey is definately somewhere i'd visit again, probably to the same area, i don't fancy the lively resorts. I've got a nice bit of colour ... even if it is mainly the freckles! and the rest from working was sorely needed. Miss me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">a bit of pictorial eveidence that i actually went:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiy91qe5b6-Mni-15IPQVVrMnc0LtXtdl-AUPWlyWpnAhE8WIrNBQNZJaUikY26zTo8A4Q97cWu4jzdJI9zgL_nqPafiDZymjPL2TIFM77wxAYJWkxHkALwKr4pBdeiTSOpZqB0wVszns/s1600/holiday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiy91qe5b6-Mni-15IPQVVrMnc0LtXtdl-AUPWlyWpnAhE8WIrNBQNZJaUikY26zTo8A4Q97cWu4jzdJI9zgL_nqPafiDZymjPL2TIFM77wxAYJWkxHkALwKr4pBdeiTSOpZqB0wVszns/s320/holiday.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> View from our balcony every evening at 7pm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEadI7uloOpVY5kxJCoT2gDvhBFRrX65oW4ZpMkV1IAt7yyZ1IuCKao5ZvLp4rxJm9ePbypPoGAvKLHVHeiGtV254JbMUnBLq2OQz3Ojv_WVUSiWBds4qU9S57gTOhd0391rJNnUZ_qrM/s1600/holiday1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEadI7uloOpVY5kxJCoT2gDvhBFRrX65oW4ZpMkV1IAt7yyZ1IuCKao5ZvLp4rxJm9ePbypPoGAvKLHVHeiGtV254JbMUnBLq2OQz3Ojv_WVUSiWBds4qU9S57gTOhd0391rJNnUZ_qrM/s320/holiday1.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The harbour we set off from for our boat tour in Fethiye</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMYDbRDFyOXfmZdCPWicW-qwymeOB4ka1I7zjrFnClvdhhGpOFvr_6hW9xX23FtS5I47I49YDs5hVYvNkjpyx3wB_xB2SyEZ9H7YoZn7a2AKWunhCxi7bRBpJ8zkxqre8Pm0iwyvqC4c/s1600/holiday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMYDbRDFyOXfmZdCPWicW-qwymeOB4ka1I7zjrFnClvdhhGpOFvr_6hW9xX23FtS5I47I49YDs5hVYvNkjpyx3wB_xB2SyEZ9H7YoZn7a2AKWunhCxi7bRBpJ8zkxqre8Pm0iwyvqC4c/s320/holiday2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The walk from our room to the pool</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44vZMGeGxy0jtAdmWHgZoltOU4mHrJiuv8bSZ6QXhyRKwH9Q0tfSrSJTgtytfcLgQpWNOERfTtG4F77SHhnt4zfToW_zrZQAHfGiasm-16TcLpjHqhowE52-ayd4prg1yJJORN6x7P5A/s1600/holiday3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44vZMGeGxy0jtAdmWHgZoltOU4mHrJiuv8bSZ6QXhyRKwH9Q0tfSrSJTgtytfcLgQpWNOERfTtG4F77SHhnt4zfToW_zrZQAHfGiasm-16TcLpjHqhowE52-ayd4prg1yJJORN6x7P5A/s320/holiday3.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Dalaman Tombs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngi7CTmuc4UhoNR51E6L3tzti6CQ6xuCDdNH_uaIpJuBlUAINiWBBjGvJjU604y7CwLgGZP9qe1QOEahnFhZmcivXKrcWfRW-8y06bX00eBxxb8P3RN0-slYUuzKQ8MVHY-79zL8XA9Y/s1600/holiday4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngi7CTmuc4UhoNR51E6L3tzti6CQ6xuCDdNH_uaIpJuBlUAINiWBBjGvJjU604y7CwLgGZP9qe1QOEahnFhZmcivXKrcWfRW-8y06bX00eBxxb8P3RN0-slYUuzKQ8MVHY-79zL8XA9Y/s320/holiday4.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div align="center">Turtle Beach</div>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-42519381664115932172011-08-06T03:39:00.000-07:002011-08-06T03:39:33.423-07:00Each murder is one too many<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">So, there is a bit if an e-campaign to try and get the death penalty reintroduced. I've had a bit of a think about this, do i think it should be reintroduced? Ultimately, no, although i can see why people do. If i lost a loved one of mine to a predatory monster i'd probably want them dead too. It could only be a positive to not have these beasts alive, them being alive always leaves the chance that might be released, and even if not, we have to pay for their existance, their TVs, their playstations, their parties... as the media would have us believe. These are the only reasons that i agree with as to why it should be reintroduced. However, for me, the reasons to not reintroduce it far outweighs the reasons to reintroduce it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">To kill someone, is the ultimate act of barbarity, these monstors never took into consideration the right to life of those they murdered, so why should we take into account the right they have to live? Because who would aminister the death? A member of the victims family? A doctor? Whoever it is, they will have killed someone, granted not in a way defined as murder, but they have still played God and taken someones life. I wouldn't like the job. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Would it deter those with murderous tendances from comitting their crimes? I can't see that it would. I don't think people just fancy murdering somebody one day because they are bored, it is either spur of the moment thing (crime of passion) or they are tapped in the head and will do what they are being compelled to do whatever their punshment if caught, they obviously have no regard for human life and this probably extends to their own. The death penalty has been used in the US for a long time, has it cut down on their murder rates? No. They still have an overwhelming amount of murders. I rememeber reading somewhere that the murder rates are, in general, lower in those states where capital punishment has been abolished.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I'm less inclined to agree with the worry that innocent people may be convicted and subsequently killed, maybe it's naive of me, but i don't think the courts would sentence people to death unless there is no doubt of their guilt. Even a slight doubt i believe would/should require the reduced sentence of life imprisonment. But granted, it's a possibilty that is there, i believe history states that innocents have been wrongly sentenced before. But with the technology we have now this shouldn't happen.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">What do i think we should do with murderers? I think life should mean life, they should be locked up, solitary confinement for life, in a room with little more than a bed and toilet, with enough food and water to provide a pitiful exsistance. Death for them, in my eyes, is a cop out.</span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-50331374661324653152011-07-14T13:07:00.000-07:002011-07-14T13:11:40.507-07:00Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at allMy Dad’s a market trader so I’ve been exposed to markets all my life. I’ve decided to do a bit of a blog about it because I’ve been manning his stall for him recently while he’s been away, so seems apt.<br />
My earliest memory is of ‘helping’ him on his fruit and veg stall, I must have been a tiny little girl as it was a long long time ago. I remember feeling really grown up helping to hammer the fruit boxes to the stall … I was allowed to use the hammer and nails, the actual hammer and nails, I felt like one of the adults. Inevitably one of my memories of this involves me actually managing to hammer my finger/thumb and balling my eyes out. I was young so I can’t imagine I did it with much force, but it definitely hurt. I liked it once the stall was all ready because I got to sit on a banana box with a Macdonalds Happy Meal. Or there was going to a place early in the morning, where I slept all the way in my dad’s massive van, seemed like a weird alternate universe to me because everyone was loud and wide awake, but it was dark and I was tired. But wherever it was we always had the nicest bag of toast (which is why I’ve decided it must have been early morning and not late at night). Since growing up I figured it was probably a place where he got his stock from.<br />
My next memory is of being much older, at a guess 14/15 years old. I worked with my Dad on Gainsborough market … sorry if any of you are from there, but Gainsborough really is a dive, I felt like I was risking life every day just being there ... all the teenage boys had that exaggerated limp and the girls wore scruchies, ew. At this point we were selling household stuff, you know, bleach, shampoo, sponges, toilet rolls … glamorous stuff. I was a moody teenager at this point .. and hated it. My dad used to do the market trader shouty thing to get people to the stall, there was no way I was doing this! ‘HAVE A LOOK ROUND AT A POUND!’ … which use to bug me because there is zero sence in this sentence, it didn't cost £1 to look around, we didn't charge for looking. I got paid £20 for working from 5am til about 6/7pm, and when i decided i wanted company and took my friend Emma to help we got £10 each .... child labour surely!<br />
Anyway, the reason for this blog is that i've been doing my Dads markets while he's been on holiday ... all on my own!! Driving a pretty large van to the markets (when i drive a teeny tiny KA) at 6am in the mornings and unloading, staying until 6pm and loading all the stock back on the van. I'm definately not built for manual labour! I did have a young lad that was supposed to help me load and unload but he was rubbish at the actual turning up stuff. My friend Sarah was a bit of a star and came to help me when she could. I quite enjoyed the actual day part because it's fabulous for people watching, you see alsorts, from chavs causing disruption, to domestics, to just people in 'oh my god what is she wearing' outfits. I also saw a man run off with a womans bag shortly followed by a security guard nonchalantly strolling back with it in hand like some modern day superhero (lol @ modern day superhero sounding like i believe that there were olden day super heroes and that they exist). Undoubtedly the weirdest thing i saw was an old man on a moblity scooter holding his legs up in the air a few inches as if he couldn't put his feet down, then he went into the library and came back out a few minutes later with some library books on the floor of the scooter with his feet resting on them. Ingenius use of library books, although i couldn't help but wonder why he didn't get something more permenant, he's only gonna have to return them in a few months.<br />
<br />
Markets are hard work, tiring, but i have found certain aspects enjoyable, it has taught me invaluable life skills, how to handle money, how to do on the spot maths but most importantly how to deal with the general public, it's one thing to serve a customer, another to be able to banter with a complete stranger .. this i believe i'm good at, because of the markets.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-42350253838061391122011-05-15T11:28:00.000-07:002011-05-15T11:28:25.229-07:00Life swings like a pendulum backward and forward between pain and boredomIt's Sunday evening, i'm tired, i have Pirates of the Caribbean on in the background, noone is talking to me, i am bored. But as well as being bored i'm feeling lazy. So i thought i'd do a nice simple blog, one that doesn't involve too much thinking or reasoning.<br />
I'm going to do a list of things i like ... oh that sounds rather lame. But anyway, i've tried not to be too obvious with my list .. i mean if i put 'spending time with friends, going on holiday' ... it would give no insight into me, as, unless you are a bit of a weird, reclusive, agrophobic bizarre person, everybody likes being with their friends and having holidays.<br />
Ok i'll stop blathering ... my list:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">conversations with weird strangers</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the smell of library books</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the Nephew's giggle</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">knowing what people are thinking</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">unexpected texts from him</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">saying something purely to get a reaction</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">making people jump</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">halloween</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">that moment just before the cork pops when you can feel the pressure</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">racing for the good luck grates</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">kisses you remember</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">tying ties</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">ribbons</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">butterfly kisses</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">having ice</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">when he gives me that look</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">tulips</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">free stuff</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">in jokes</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">hats</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">when the hair works</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">visiting a new city</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">having a long conversation with someone with an accent, then when they are waiting for my response going 'ya what?'</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">lame jokes</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">slightly inappropriate laughter that is made worse by the trying to stifle it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">made up words</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm sure there's many more for the list ... i will probably add to it.</span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-16854383620932346272011-04-22T14:55:00.000-07:002011-04-22T15:32:19.556-07:00Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've always had this slight little fear of aging. Wrinkles i'm scared of, having to wear Tena Ladies i'm scared of, aches and pains i'm scared of, droopiness i'm scared of, illness i'm scared of, seeing the wrinkly bum of an old man i'm scared of (cheers Sex and The City), greying i'm scared of, starting to like lavender i'm scared of, losing family and friends i'm scared of, backache i'm scared of, WIs i'm scared of, liking ornaments i'm scared of, buying Wearthers Originals i'm scared of ... i'm most scared at the being old thing.<br />
Ok .. what am i leading to? ..... yes, i'm still in my 20s .. but 30 i can see in the not so distant future, and today i was shopping. How does this make me feel old? Well .. i was walking towards Next in Meadowhall and i near on bumped into two teenage boys. As this happened one looked up and went 'Wow' ... i quite liked this, because tbf i was feeling a bit rough, i was tired, i'd spent all morning doing Zumba and i was hot. His mate nodded at him, but then his brain kicked in and he went 'bit old though mate' .... what? I'd have slapped them, if i wasn't pretending to have not heard ... and if they didn't look like potential happy slappers, i just tried my hardest to 'look young' as i walked away. How much is botox?<br />
I AM NOT OLD!!!!!!!!!</span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-83003649376921368522011-04-02T12:48:00.000-07:002011-04-02T12:52:18.988-07:00Knock knock ... Who's there? .... Banana ...Oh good evening,<br />
<br />
Last Sunday i had an impromptu visit to the City Hall in Sheffield to see the genius that is Jimmy Carr. Turns out if you book a couple of days before the event you can get pretty decent seats ... row D in the stalls ... who'd have thought?!<br />
He was pretty brilliant. But me, being the blonde i am, can't remember much of it .. no i wasn't drunk. I just remember it being really funny. He is King at beating down hecklers, even invites them into heckling.<br />
<br />
So to recap on this highly informative blog post ... i went to see a comedian ... and he was funny ... oh the insight. <br />
<br />
And i'm up at 6am tomorrow to do a car boot :( so if anyone comes across me i shall be highly grumpy.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-11751228113288719492011-02-11T14:49:00.000-08:002011-02-23T01:34:35.112-08:00Happy Birthday<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Evening all, i've not been blogging much of late .. i've been really busy, ok ok, lazy. So i thought i'd pop by and just do a short blog about what it is that i've been up to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Firstly 27th of January was the Birthday of my beautiful baby Nephew, Alfie. His first. He's such a sweetheart and considering all his heart problems a little superstar. Still not had to have any operations and they thought he'd need some straight after birth, so i'm completely proud. He had a Mickey Mouse themed birthday party and was spoilt rotten ... i bet it'll seem like no time at all until i'm blogging about his 18th! ... man i'll be old.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I spent last weekend in Newcasle, the first time i had visited the city. It was a lovely city, even if they do all talk funny. I lost count of the amount of times i said 'ya what?' (oh my Derbyshire accent is so beautiful and eloquant). If i'm completely honest i didn't see much of it except for the hotels and pubs, but i had a fabulous time none the less.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">During my Saturday night out i did have an altercation with a bouncer. He was a complete and utter idiot (my words on the night were much stronger). I was sat on some steps in front of a fire exit because my feet hurt, and he came up behind me put his hands under my arms and pulled me to my feet. Literally throwing me in the air in the process and hurting all down my sides. Granted i shouldn't have been sat infront of a fire door, but how hard would it have been to gone 'excuse me love, you can't sit there' </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Although ... i suppose .. with his accent, i wouldn't have understood him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He realised he'd hurt me though ... mainly because i was a complete girl and cried .. but he kept out of my way for the rest of the night. Which, even though he was 5 times my size (and i'm anything but small) .. wise. I spent the rest of the night going 'i'm going to write a strongly worded email in the morning.' I didn't ........ effort.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Oh and i was told at the doctors by my nurse this week, that i had lost a stone ... go me :D</span></span>A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-63389820562831662052011-01-24T14:29:00.000-08:002011-01-24T14:34:46.138-08:00Wolves, Cannibals, Serial Killers and Doggers ...Okay, so, some time last week i got an email from my friend Helen saying she was coming up my way to do a 6 mile walk around Mansfield with our friends Nikki and Vee and asked me if i wanted to join them. Now, they're doing this to train for a 26 mile walk that they are doing for a Breast Cancer charity. I'm not doing this walk but since i'm trying currently to get fitter i thought 'why not?.'<br />
<br />
The last time i did a walk i did an 8 mile walk around Carsington Water and by about mile 5 i was dragging my right leg behind me propping myself up on a big stick ... but i did complete it. The reason for this is i was the type of girl who never wore flat shoes. I wore at least 4 inch heels everyday, so my calves couldn't put up with such a distance in flats. Walking on tip toes helped. But since i've been wearing flats religiously for a good couple of years now i thought i'd be ok.<br />
<br />
We set off, the 4 of us along with Nikki's daughter Ferne, friend Maxine and her dog Jaz. We set off that little bit late ... mainly because we are women and things like gossiping, tea and cakes easily distract us. It was gone 3 by the time we set off i think. We were walking through Sherwood Park, which has many different routes through the forest all of varying lengths. We decided on doing the 6 mile one, not too little, not to much. You choose a trail, follow that coloured markers and arrows in sequential number order. At some point someone said the 6 mile route goes up to number 20. We saw 1, 2 ..... 3 ... there was a small diversion but that eventally put us back on track ... we carried on counting. We all seemed to be coping ok ... my legs, on the whole .... worked ... by about 16 i could feel my right leg giving me a bit of jip, but not too much. I soldiered on. All the way round we nattered and had a laugh. We passed 19 ... got that little bit excited when we could see another marker in the distance .. not only because we were nearing the end but because the sun was rapidly setting, and we wanted to get back to Nikki's for food, vodka and games. We got to marker 20, couldn't see the carpark so just followed the direction of the marker ... another one came into sight ... 21 ... then came 22. Ok it must be 30 it goes up to not 20. It was getting dark, i'd developed a bit of a limp, eveyone else was feeling it too but we could cope to 30. But when 29 eventually appeared i was feeling somewhat relieved ..... More so when i could see another marker in the distance ...<br />
<br />
12 f*cking 12! ... the marker said 12 .... 1 to 29 to 12! in what warped method of counting does this occur?!!<br />
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By this point it was dark, the ground was muddy and uneven and we couldn't see where we were putting our feet. Somone said 'at least it hasn't rained' ... then it rained, But we had no option but to follow the direction of the arrows and pray they didn't count up to infinity. Now anyone that knows me, will tell you i have a pretty overactive imagination. But i felt it was pretty justified given the situation. I realised that this forest, at night, would be the perfect place for a serial killer to hide out, lots of trees and shadows to hide behind ... and wildlife, there had to be tons of wildlife in such a dense area of forestry ... wolves? Don't wolves live in the forest ... one went for Little Red Riding Hood in broad daylight ... we were surely potential wolf food! Luckily i'm not silly enough to worry about them being warewolves ... it wasn't even a full moon! lol. <br />
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Seriously i was that little bit scared. I lost count of the amount of times i said 'i've seen horror movies that go like this' Every time i pointed out a particularly dark, scary bit of forest, the next marker arrow would point us in that very direction! There was even a random car aboned in the middle of the forest ... Hells thought there could be people erm .. fornicating in the back, Nikki thought probably doggers ... i reasoned that a serial killer must get into the woods somehow ... funny how different peoples minds work! At about marker 20 (the second time around ... i seriously thought we would just be going in a circle for all of eternity) we could see in the distance a flickering orange light ... could i imagine this to be something sinister? .... Course i could! Cannibals .... Cannibals living in a forest would need a fire to cook their prey surely ... this orange flickering light .. said fire!!<br />
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Well, since i'm writing this ... you can presume we got out alive .. either that or i'm still wandering through the forest but weirdly with a laptop and broadband connetion ... surprising what you can find in the forest along with the ghosts and ghouls ... It turns out, this trail goes from 1 to 30 then 12 to 21 ... and the flickering orange light was the light of a security vehicle keeping watch over our cars, which, since the park had closed and it had been dark for hours were the only vehicles left in the car park. I've never been so glad to see a car in my whole life. My right leg had been walking on sheer will for the past 5 miles We deducted we walked approx 9 miles ... my suggestion .... 38 miles ... felt like it.<br />
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When we got back we binged on pizza, curly fries and cupcakes ... we'd more than earned it.<br />
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............ could only happen to us!A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-27410035348201022252011-01-12T13:43:00.000-08:002011-01-12T13:43:08.671-08:00One Born Every MinuteMonday night i watched 'One Born Every Minute' on channel 4. For those of you that aren't familiar with it it's basically a documentary set on a maternity ward. I love it. It confuses me immensely though. One minute i think 'there's no way on earth i am ever having a baby ... ouch' the next i'm thinking 'awwww i want one!' The pain looks hideously horrendous and i'm the biggest wimp in the world. One thing it has made me realise, when i have children, i want an epidural .... scratch that, 3 epidurals. Or i might attempt to be too posh to push ..<br />
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or i might just buy one.<br />
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This week it showed two births, one was a woman who screamed the hospital down ... i realise it hurts, but seriously, she was flailing about as if she was drowning, kicking the end of the bed, almost jumping out of it ... dramatic. Even after she'd had an epidural, she was still pretty vocal. I found her irritating, but quite amusing To be fair on her though, she did say before she went into labour that she wasn't good with pain. The second was a woman who ended up having to have an emergency C-Section after being induced .... as if i'm even going to attempt to spell that word. This was pretty similar to my sisters labour. I was there for the majority of it, until she got rushed to theatre for her C-Section ... pretty scary stuff.<br />
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Overall, interesting opening episode.<br />
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It's on on Monday nights at 9pm ... watch it ... or +1 it ... Glee is on E4.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1470947003237922106.post-73207054173111945322011-01-09T14:23:00.000-08:002011-01-09T14:28:20.452-08:00All that glitters ....This week has been pretty uneventful, i worked, then got a bit tipsy at the weekend with a few of my favourite people. There was one thing however, which was that tiny bit weird. Thursday, i found a ring in my handbag. Quite an old looking amethyst and diamond gold ring. I had never seen it before in my life. It was very bizarre, my handbag is full of crap to be fair, so it could have been in there for ages before being discovered. My Mum thought it might have been one of hers ... if it was, it somehow got from a box in her wardrobe, in her bedroom, at her house, into my handbag. When i showed it her though, she'd never seen it before.<br />
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I put it down to someone, somewhere accidently dropping it into my handbag ... Until last night, when i was in a hotel in Birmingham, i dug into my handbag to look for a lipstick ... i found a ring .. a different ring .. silver, with white and red stones in (one stone missing), this, i had also never seen before in my life. This promted me to search my bag properly .. i came across a third ring! Pretty similar to the second one i found, but gold. This proper freaked me out. Upon telling people, their suggesstions on what was occuring, freaked me out even more. My mum's suggestion was that someone could have been trying to set me up as a thief! That would have been fun. I dismissed this though as surely i would have been accussed before i'd have had chance to take them out of my bag. My friends suggested that someone else had stolen them but ditched the evidence in my bag to save getting caught ... i'd like to think i don't associate with too many people that steal things, and if i did, they certainly wouldn't have access to my handbag!<br />
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The ending of the story has a somewhat boring conclusion (apologies for you having read this far). When showing my mum the new rings i had found in my bag my nana, casual as anything, goes 'oh they're mine'. So i somehow managed to get my nana's rings in my handbag. How they got there is still a complete mystery ....<br />
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maybe i bought a ghost back from the wedding ... i'm hoping not.A Mirrored Pool of Thoughthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01499852393839975858noreply@blogger.com0