Happy thoughts

There have been several things I have been thinking about.

The way some friends have morphed into people that I really am now a bit worried about, and that general unhappy feeling that pervades me when I think about how they are really closed to me now.

The thing where a new image of desirable woman hood is being modelled on porn stars. The overly long stick in eye lashes, the teeter totter heels, the need to eradicate all body hair and go for a kind of matte effect face to achieve perfection, or rather acceptability.
I sigh. Women gave up their lives to drag womankind towards an idea of equality and respect for their rights, I don't feel we are there at all. And I really don't think buying into all this is the most useful choice that I, or most women can make.

Sometime maybe

Oh Lordy, have hit a patch of inertia, I resist the crushing guilt of calling it depression, but that feeling that many things are just so big and unappealing to be doing that nothing can happen until that is done, and so nothing gets done.

The pile of washing to put away threatens to declare Independence and move out. The professional development file moulders away in a crate looking half finished and pitiful, and very little of it fills me with purpose and enthusiasm.

The answer will be to make and list an reward myself for the little achievements, to take exercise, eat well and spend time with positive people. Just starting and finishing something would be useful. Especially as I shall be seeing two clients tomorrow and will be there to engender hope and nurture their desire for change into action, me? Yeah right.

So now I really really should make my way over to the shop and buy some food, because every great journey starts with the first step right?

Hmmmmm.

No No NO

I think as someone who actively adheres to a system of faith I am supposed to have strong views about homosexuality.

Today I bumped into a program on TV about homophobia in the black community, a comedian Steven Amos was 'exploring' the phenomena, and it was an education.

I guess I thought that homophobia was not just the preserve of the black community, but now I know how it seems entrenched, but when he was talking to some church representatives in Jamaica, I had to cover my eyes.

I felt that my views would probably alienate lots of the people who I'm supposed to be in community with. How I may have completely failed to develop a sense of moral outrage and condemnation about homosexuality. There you go. Amongst all the heinous things that people do, and think and say I have failed to be offended by that. I might even rate my sorrow as somewhat less than if someone tells me they spent £40,000 on a car.

I may have to repent when someone gets round to showing me the error of my ways.

Wildlife

I live in the broad, grubby embraces of a large city in the north of UK. It is...it is what it is. This week a coupe of things happened to me which make me smile about big city life.

I had a voicemail message left on my phone, a softly spoken man left a long message in a language I really didn't recognise, though it could have been an African west coast sort of language, some of which I listen to at work amongst the patients, and on the bus, because there are bus journeys I make where I am the only anglo-saxon/celt descendant there.

Which is alright.

Then on Sunday about lunchtime I set off to protest in another suburb about plans to ''develop" a Green space into football pitches, and walking along the pavement I say two young, very young women, one pushing a toddler in a pushchair, both women wearing pyjamas, slippers and an overcoat. It was a particularly grey, damp and chilly November afternoon.
I do live in a somewhat strange place, and I'm experiencing somewhat odd times...where things seem to be happening according to rules and traditions which I have very little grasp of.

Or perhaps that's just my age.

SO how are you?

It has been hard o keep walking the line. Not to give in, or give up, or stray into the territory of the people I'm trying to resist.

Malevolent forces in my work place. It can be hard when I work in such a small group of colleagues to swim against the current of what goes on. Nothing new, but I think it has probably been a tough year and I haven't been in a place where I've had excess energy to make this easy.

That's where the knitting has come in.

Something peaceful and absorbing which allows me to get absorbed in something else for a while. It satisfies the parts of me which like colour and texture, the bits which enjoy feeling, squishy, soft, shiny and smooth, the creative bits which relish producing something, a sock, a scarf, anything, made from nothing by my own hand.

The process is often like a kind of meditation, rhythmic and repetitive.
It's also currently helping at work, as I take in the current sock for a few minutes knitting at lunchtime, and it helps me keep out of the toxic conversations which wash around me.

PLus if I get it wrong, nothing too bad happens.

Yummy.

I have been delighted to get a parcel with new needles in it, lovely nickel ones and some wooden little ones, I experienced that moment of horror when I first looked and thought...how am I going to knit with those? The 15cms long ones looked so short.
But then I started using them and lo! I am re born.

Other glorious stuff going on at the moment includes a fabulous rocking chair, it actually 'glides' no really it does and it is divine to sit in.

And the wood burner stove has arrived and hopefully will not burn down my 'shed' or sanctuary as it shall now be known...can you see the plan emerging from the mist?

Yep cosy stove in shed, making cups of tea, and sitting knitting in my gliding chair, out in the garden.....I know I sound like an old lady, and possibly somewhat exccentric, you don't always get what you want, but sometimes you need what you get.

Going up, going down

I am living some fairly normal life events, things that people in stable civilised countries encounter throughout life.

I feel that I have adequate skills and knowledge to allow me to face them with resignation and patience, and get through them.

I am becoming aware of what other people find to say about it when I share the info about my life events. I also wonder how I respond to people who tell me about their troubles.

I am becoming very tired by the jolly up people who believe that I will benefit from being told empty platitudes, and although I know that platitudes can be the oil that allows other more fruitful conversations to get going, I know that sometimes they just the whole thing down.

The scariest one so far is the " things can only get better now", I guess I am somewhat pessimistic in nature, but even allowing for that if you thought for even a minute before you may realise that there are many and various bad things that can result from where I am now, and when I report back from living through those events how awful is it going to be to get that conversation going.

Argh

Apparently "Tesco is committed to helping you/me spend less everyday".

Let's all reflect very briefly on that.

Yes so now we all know that is a lie on many levels, and although I know that advertising is full of misleading and sugared deceptions this one is a doosy.

IF they were committed to helping me spend less they would be shut an awful lot more, not fill their stores with endless tat. They would not indulge in loss leaders, reward card superfuge research and whatever other brain washing techniques they seem to be employing.

I recall a Mitchell and Webb sketch about the aftermath of the Tesco induced social armegeddon. It had a ring of prophesy.

Squishy squishy.

I now find it necessary to feel things. That is when I am presented with something new, especially fabrics, clothing, yarn I may or may not be purchasing, I have to feel. I need to put my hands on it and squeeze it a little, and sometimes I also need to press it to my nose too. Eurgh. I was talking to the therapist about this and found that she recognised this too, and we spent some time thinking about why that would be. Some toddler reflex that has reanimated. Perhaps all that learning styles stuff about people who like to learn by doing, possibly. But I think I now crave more sensation, and instead of just looking at things I allow myself the other bits as well. Hell I may know what it looks like but how does it feel, and smell?

My friend noticed it as we went round a garden centre together. He complained that I was feeling all the furry leaves, and then I realised it may look a bit freaky sometimes. Like the time I approached a classmate and asked if I could feel her skirt.....Socialisation gone a bit gumpy there I guess, but hey I feel tired of depriving myself of the things I like all the time so that I can fit in. A tough one to balance with Christian values, and not necessarily healthy to pursue too far but just now, in this particular context I'm not hurting anybody by fondling my way round John Lewis and touching plants and bit of clothing. Yet.

Tum te tum

Here is where I am at. I have finished these recently, and as I am very poor at blocking things these are pre pictures. They will next be appearing at Christmas I think.

Tonight I might go to a knitting group I have found in the nearby city. I have never been to a knitting group before, and I am not sure whether it will be a good thing or not. Guess I may only find out if I venture down, I suppose my worst case is sitting in the corner, or right in the thoroughfare of this cafe and no body saying anything to me. I know I'll be able to say hello and introduce myself, but I also know the cold chill when I've been to mum and tot groups, introduced myself and then been cold shouldered for the rest of a very long play session. *sigh*.

I suppose there will be nothing lost however as I don't know anyone at all in this group and so if I walk out and never come back I haven't lost anyone.

I don't smell

I am annoyed, I have noticed an advert and it beginning to feel like an enormous ulcer that I keep biting.
It's for some perfume, there's a blonde woman who pulls faces and pouts into camera whilst a **** Beatles track plays 'baby you can drive my car' ( another posting there about how I am growing to hate the Beatles music).

I think what troubles me is that the ad people think I will buy this perfume because I aspire to be like this woman, the reason she is such an aspirational figure appears to be her floppy blonde hair, ability to smile broadly and pull faces, the ability to bop along to a banal beatles track....I'm sure there are important sub texts here about her socio-economic group, education and desirability based on this but please, I ask you is that it??

I was wondering about my eyebrows, you see, about how they would look if someone else shaped them as I believe you can pay people to do that (?!?), and then I wondered what it would be like to go on one of those make over programs where they assemble you friends and family and there's a big reveal and everyone crys and say how amazing you look, ( hmm so you were all biting your tongues before cos I looked so ridiculous, where as with an inch of slap and this tacky outfit on makes me into a REAL person eh?). I thought that the aim of those programs seems to be to homogenise people, OK , women, into a facsimile of something more acceptable. Smarter, more colourful, shinier, with taller heels, accessories and jewellery.

What if we don't want to look the same, what if I disagree that that is nicer,are they actually peddling the idea that I would be better if I looked like everyone else.

I often wonder if those people look like they do pre-makeover, because that's how they feel, and rather than send them off to shop someone should offer them six months of self care, self esteem and confidence building and someone sensible to listen to them for an hour a week, that might be better, then they could chose their own clothes and end up owning somethings they actually like and which reflect who they are.

I also wonder about this as I look at my nieces mates, there she is with a bunch of 6 girls all looking happy and cool cos they are 17 and they are having the time of their lives. Out of the six, two look like real people and the others all look like identikit mock ups of 17 year olds and look eerily the same.

Fashion. How can that be? What is it about wearing variations of what lots of other people think would be good for people to wear this year I ask you, what's that all about?

Ah hem

SO that sore throat has become something a bit more noticeable as of this afternoon, I have no voice left really, and it really hurts, plus the small pain in the back of my head.

I wonder.

I have been reading all my updates and undertsand lots of useful info about H1N1, and really I have wondered more about the when than the if, but I realy do hope this isn't it, and that they rest of the family don;t get ill.

No fever so until that strikes I shall try and ignore it a bit and hope for the best. I don't actually feel ill ill, so that it probably the best thing.

I may just go and sit out side in the brief bit of sunshine I can see outside, after torrential rain and here I am wearing a jumper in July !!! it will most likely be a tonic...either that or I'll get a chill and will succumb after all.

It has been salutory observing the unfolding press coverage of this pandemic and I kind of hoped that that would be the nearest we'd come, there is so much going on that I could see a huge hole being ripped in our summer if we get ill, but we don't get to decide so best to embrace what will be, drink fluids and hope, and pray.

Clouds Drifting

I have entered a new place in life recently, and although I can't guarantee that I shall stay here it has a great deal of novelty.

I am committing myself to meeting new people, inviting them round, arranging to spend mornings out with them, going round for lunch, feeding them my very own cooking.

Now I am aware that very many other people manage this without a second thought and thrive on it, and no I haven't been a hermit for most of my life. But I have been a bit shy, and a bit scared that I wont be any good at it, and that people wont actually like me, or will get food poisoning from my food, or that the conversation will dry up and there will be .... awkward silences........................................

But here I am , having a go, doing something new and trying out being a more confident and sociable person, as if I felt sure that people would like my company and enjoy hanging out with me, and mostly it seems that that is true.

Wow.

I wonder if the sock knitting had anything to do with it.

Possibly my recent stint of personal therapy has increased my self acceptance or something, or possibly I am just acting like the persona I want to be , or that person I am really underneath the insecurities. Dunno.

Leave me wondering what I should try out next.

Where shall I find?

I have finished knitting a pair of socks.

They are the first pair of socks I have ever attempted and although their are signs of the learning experience they do fit and look very realistic.

I feel all brand new, because it is still delightful to do new things for the first time, and to achieve a new skill.

Good eh?

Gloria in excelsis.

Let joy be unconfined...I have found 'picnic' bars in a five bar pack at the supermarket.

What bliss.

I had been longing for a Picnic bar for quite some time, and like most of these things, once you feel the need they just disappear, not to be seen in any petrol station, supermarket or vending machine I happened to peer into, and believe me I was looking.

I have hidden them in a safe place in the house so that no one else happens upon them, and eats once 'by accident'. I am making sure I sit quietly and attend to every mouthful when I do eat one...they are mini celebrations and I'm loving it.

All along the battlements

I started this blog with few clear ideas about it's remit.

More a string of consciousness thing really, to express some of the thoughts I have that I otherwise would just bung in my journal.

Once I got started I realised that many other blogs have a clear and specific interest, personally I love knitting blogs. Less inclined to paper craft ones, quite like the photo ones. But I have a problem that my interests are quite broadly spread and if I start thinking about what possible readers are likely to want to muse with me about, e.g. knitting projects and motorbikes, and trees, and guinea pigs and the books I like and all the other rambly things that might turn up here.

Then again I have strayed into blogs which have vast numbers of photos of the things they cook, or ate and though I am fascinated by food it began to feel like some sort of porn. Which felt a bit strange, rather like those ones where people post beautiful pictures of beautiful things which inspire them. They often seem to be lovely loft interiors with lots of white. Again the OCD, aspirational consumption nuance began to make me feel uncomfortable.

So what sort of blog am I?

Probably I need to let go of the idea that anyone else will ever actually read this. Then I free myself from the tyranny of giving this mythical reader what they like, perhaps they wouldn't know what they like till they meet my blog and realise that a) it's definitely not that, or b) there are other people out there with a similar outlook. Odd thought.

So here I go again in pusuit of the non-niche blog.

No really.

Aliens do abduct us from Ikea.

I went in one evening to look at storage. Two hours later I left the store. No clear recollection of what I had looked at and empty handed.

I think I had been abducted and spent the intervening two hours on a UFO. It's the bit where I was tempted to slip down a little corridor that means I can get down to the market place instead of walking round yet more room sets.

My friend believes it happens to her, yet she always arrives back in the car park clutching some cushions, which don't match her lounge.

A basic mistake by the aliens, everyone buys cushions from Ikea so they routinely put some into the hands of the abductees. I must have dropped mine.

Now run away.

Last week I was sitting opposite a guy in a chair, we have met several times, and then I notice that he has put both his hands behind his head. A lift drops in my stomach. Bump.

That makes three. Men I know, who have put their hands behind their heads, in a slightly out of sync way.

I wondered if I was just sensing something else that was in the room at that moment. It did pass a few minutes later. But later I thought about these three men.

My 'spidey sense' told me to be watchful. Something somewhere heard something other than, needing a stretch.

So what primeval significance does this gesture have, is it just in me or is there something present in the mass psyche.

I will probably need to consult one of those body language gurus who have a side line in NLP, and can increase my sales and ability to meet interesting men by helping me read body language better.

I shall get back to you on that one.

Alrighty

I did get an offer from someone to be my sister. That was nice. To replace the rather flaky one, who still hasn't been in touch.

I'm wondering if I feel like making the first move to find out what the craic is with flaky sister. But perhaps not, yet.

Still I now have an option on someone else to be my sister, and as my selection criteria aren't particularly rigourous she may well be my new relative. I'm facing the fact that the real deal are fairly poor so it may be worth a go. But then I may need to be a 'good enough' sister myself, ooo, pressure.

Good to talk

SO a couple of days ago my sister blew me off, and there has been radio silence since.

She canceled me at very short notice so that she could go to lunch with our parents, they had rung between our arrangements being made and before I arrived at her house.

I am slightly less pissed off that they chose her for lunch and not me, than her deciding on balance that she would rather go out with them, despite seeing them virtually every week, rather than me, as we are 'lucky' to catch up once or twice a month.

We all live within a half hours drive of each other.

Shall I infer that I am just such a rubbish person that they all don't want to know me?

Or what.

Prior to this the family relationships have been harmonious if somewhat relaxed. We don't meet up for coffee, she often says she will ring to arrange, but never does. I try and make arrangements, pop in now and then but it is somewhat one sided.

I recognise fury, rejection, sadness, disappointment. I wanted an explanation, of what exactly she was thinking, but I probably really need her to understand how I feel about this, and that the way she behaves has an impact. Being a responsible adult I own up to the fact that I choose how I deal with this. Perhaps the light is dawning that I need to made some efforts at damage limitation, but how is it possible to insure yourself against being shit on by your 'nearest and dearest'.

Great Gosh

This weekend I actually managed to spend some time doing something 'worthwhile'. Although I have been away from paid work work for nearly six weeks I was forced to look back and reflect that I'd pissed it away mostly.

How did that happen.

I was talking to the therapist and a phrase came to mind of not getting pudding till the main course is finished. That has contributed in spades. There are still all those things that I should do but can't be bothered, and until they are done I don't allow myself to go and do the good things that are fun and make me feel that time has been well spent.

Soon I am due to go and discuss returning to paid work and how that can be facilitated. I fear I may be overly ready for this. Which way will it go? Mealy mouthed platitudes or crash and burn honesty. I have done plenty of both in the past and either one is quite tempting, but what will get me closer to my career goals? They stand at 'being left alone' so it's probably academic which one will get me there.

I watched a man stand aloof and watch his sons do colouring and sticking today. He wouldn't sit down with them for the first 10 minutes and then he looked pained and didn't join in. Will he remember that one day and wish it had been otherwise.?

Clickety click.

So today I had lots of places to go and put on my modest heels, they are very school marm, sensible and not very high. Within 5 minutes I was fed up of tripping round the house avoiding falling over, 'cos I'm not a seasoned practitioner of heels and they never seem quite safe, or built to let you get where you are going quickly.

I was reminded of Gok's Fashion Fix last night, where he wheeled out a new capsule wardrobe to transform this woman, sure enough there were about three or four pairs of shoes, none of them had heel less than about 3 inches. I thought about walking up my works car park with a colleague who always wears tall stilettos and how I had to walk Soooooo slowly as she was struggling on the uneven surface, see I park on the right where there's pebbles, she parks on the left as her shoes do not allow uneven surfaces.

So heels, hmmm. Inspiration of the patriarchal, misoginistic devil to keep women teetering and unable to move, with their bums and boobs stuck out because of the way they have to compensate with their posture for the unnatural tippy toesness. Or every right thinking women's right to express her magnificent femininity and make her feel special.?

I think I may have to come back here again sometime, because I recall the colleague referring to my uniform work shoes as 'lesbian shoes' and I don't feel she was expressing affirmation. Layers of meaning and subjectivity loom there and it's time to drink tea. Laters.

Biding my time

Yesterday I went for a solitary walk, good idea or not? Dunno. I found that people in the garden centre felt they had to buy these pots and that they might get a discount because they had some possible fault......I felt they could go buy pots elsewhere if they were that bothered by faults. There was huffing.

My portfolio remains unfinished, as do many other things which I really 'should' have finished by now. Feeling becalmed? Apathetic? Disinterested?

As I sit here musing on motivation and vision I think.....blimey that hamster needs a clean.

I will feel better.

So this new group is starting and for a kick off 'someone' decided that a self help book would be a good place to start.

I sighed.

I haven't waded in telling them why that is a bad idea, which shows personal growth on my part I feel. I am thinking that they may find self help books ..well helpful. But I have my doubts. There are so many. So very many. And they peddle the bleedin' obvious so appealingly packaged. ANd I know that it all seems very attainable, and with a bit of effort, I could do it. I could help myself. But then again who ever does? Please, if you have found a self help book which really began a change process which was sustained for more than a week or two could you leave a comment with the title of the book and what made it valuable for you.


I am not about to belittle that, I am honestly interested in what actually brings about change in a human's life, change that persists for longer than a few days. What process makes it happen. Knowing what motivates people to behave differently is a very powerful bit of knowledge, and I would like to catch a glimpse of what that looks like, guess it is very personal, guess there are already books and courses out there which may give me this info, NLP, for instance seems to have a lot to say about changing behaviour, but somehow I remain untouched. How about NLP...have you ever been? Perhaps I should go, and find out what it has to offer, top tips for winning over the opposite sex, or selling your product? But what about the change which means I get to live the more satisfying life, where does that come from?

D'ya Know?

Vincent D'Onofrio.

He is in that psuedo police thing on channel five, and I remember him in Men In Black.

His suits in that are great, he appears very dashing, he appears quite tall, in fact on Saturday in an early scene he looked just like one of those people who is someone sitting on someone elses shoulders with an overcoat on. Somewhat bizarre.

I wonder what it's like to arrange shots so that people aren't always peering up his nose, so that he can emote on the same level with everyone else.

This may have come up as Gillian Anderson was on a sofa somewhere giving away her play. She had to wear heels a lot and not stand right next to everyone else, that Mouldy guy, or was he Solder or Sully???? No that's Monsters Inc isn't it.

Yep, which takes me right round to that fab song which I've been listening to in my head for days now

" Take that thing back where it came from...so help me....so help me" ( Tum Tum Tum).

Slap dat.

I was mooching around the internet in yet more job avoiding activity and came across 'Ravelry' and like many things, once you know its there it suddenly starts appearing everywhere. I wondered whether it could be good to join, get free patterns to knit, that sort of stuff, but then the job avoiding indicated this may not be helpful.

Anyways I wandered past again and noticed the delay to get your 'invitation' had come down to 1 day, from 4. Hmmm. Then I found that all sorts of upset and internet shoutiness had broken out over some people being BANNED. I bumped into several passionate outpourings about the evils of how they had been banned and the underlying socio-political implications of what had gone on. After skim reading a couple it seemed to me that the very fabric of democracy and basic human freedoms were in peril, never mind economic crisis....Ravelry had banned people.

I was transported to a time when I was a moderator on an internet community, I had the power to influence bannings and such. Oh the power, oh the enormous impact such things could have..... on a group of about 12 people ...when they thought about it. In fact I think I was made a moderator just so I could help support an admin who had realised she might have to ban someone. Really the agonising that went on before, during and after, particularly after. It was a thing to behold. I think the banned member would have been very very pleased had they realised the depths of agony plumbed by some staffers after they had done the deed.

Now I should probably come clean here and admit that the forum I moderated on was a very small affair, with only about 800 members on the books, and talk about niche interest, really very minor affair, hilariously described by colleagues as 'guinea pig porn', yup. But I couldn't quite put it all together. How people believed that joining a forum gave them some kind of right. That their membership and the efforts they put in had some kind of global, no universal significance. It was a great education and when I got fed up of being there I had the ability to delete everything I'd ever put up there and leave in my own time. Probably that's where the angst comes from, unfinished business, echoes of unsatisfactory endings, rejection. Injustice.

All because some guinea pig freaks, or knitting enthusiasts got fed up of you. It seemed ineffable that this forum was actually a complete autocracy, and the whims of the person who started it could prevail, no matter how injust or unreasonable they may seem they could decide. Written all over the aftermath was the childish/ childlike whine " It's not fair". It was very easy to say from the inside no, no one ever said it would be, but that's exactly what was playing out. Except here at ravelry there does actually seem to be some discussion about the political and legal implications of banning people from a knitting forum. Blimey.

While the cat is away.

Just waved him off, he's gone camping at a bike rally. The raison d'etre for this one is bikers with a disability. Looks like they'll either get blown away or suffer flooding. But the music should be good, and there will be beer.

He has agreed to get a t shirt for our friend (the one who had the major stroke), who wants the one which says "I only did it for the parking space". Which may make me wince a bit, but shows how grieving and adjusting and all that stuff is done in a unique way by everyone.

Reflecting on the disability theme I wonder how the weekend will pan out, as the companion was appearing rather wired, buzzin' most unpleasantly and getting very vehement that he could fix himself and he wasn't going to go to his doctors to get help with his psychosomatic seizures...he could sort himself out. I guess I agree with him to a degree, he probably is the only person who can help himself, but I wonder how successful he will be trying to do it alone.

I wonder if I too believe that deep down, that I'm perfectly able to sort out my own problems all by myself, or would I prefer someone to come and fix things for me? Perhaps that's another tribal demarcation right there. The people who think they can solve everything all alone and don't need any ones help versus the people who would rather leave it to everyone else to fix it for them