Smidge

Habit is something i’ve written about a lot on this blog. I’ve freely admitted that I am a creature of habit; I like routine. Smoking helped that routine. As I suffer day two of giving up (headache, sore teeth, dry mouth, twitchiness) i’ve begun to wonder if it’s not the nicotine that I’ll miss, but the routines of my life.

It’s taken me 15 years to form these routines; they are such an essential part of me they almost deserve an introduction pack. These routines make up what one of my readers (and a close friend in real life) recently pointed out – my ‘quirkiness’. It’s taken me years to workout that this is actually no bad thing. Quirky is good. Different is good. Smoking has made me.

Although now smoking is killing me. Something has to give. So its time to change the routines, change fundamental parts of me, take away one thing that gives me confidence, bite the f*cking bullet and get over it.

Kx

I get stuck on routine; this is why I have never been able to give up smoking. If my routine gets thrown out; I have a very bad day. Smoking has been my crutch for years, my bad habit,the bad side of me, my refuge i turn to when i am upset. Somehow i feel that smoking has defined the last 15 years of my life. But its not the expense, the smell, the disgustiness of it that is making me give up. Smoking has actually, finally, after 15 years had a negative impact on my health (ok the one that they have found), its time to stop.

Now this, as any smoker will know, is far from easy. My smoking habit is – 1 with coffee in the morning, 1 walking to work, 1 at lunch time, 1 walking to the bus stop after work, 1 when I get home, 1 after tea and 1 or 2 before bed = about 8-10 cigs a day (dependent on wine intake, when it increases exponentially). Up to now I have tried: willpower (lasted about a week), The Allen Carr method (lasted 2 weeks), and then willpower again (lasted 3 weeks). So on Tuesday I went to the doc’s and begged for NHS help. The prescription – patches; but the ‘step 3′ ones – the lowest dose; because despite the fact I am a dedicated 15 year smoker, it seems that as I smoke so little, NRT isn’t really set up for me.

Today is day one.

And I have a headache; my brain isn’t connecting properly in the part that remembers words, or sentences or thoughts beyond a second. The amount of nicotine in my system is twice what I usually imbibe in one day and it’s sending me mental. I feel like a teenager who has just had her first ciggy, woosy, headspinny, drugged. All I can think about right now is ripping off the patch and sticking the cancer stick in my mouth to get back to normal.

I’m not sure how that this is going to actually work, surely you are meant to cut down on nicotine?

Kx

Today has been a headachy, stressful kind of day, where I have been mainly been bitching in my head about people. So, when perusing LilLu’s Blog I saw that she had followed a prompt from the Twenty Something Writer’s site it seemed to fit my mood perfectly.

The prompt: – “We all have something we want to say to someone. Maybe it’s someone in your life now. Or, maybe it is something you wish you said to someone who is no longer in your life. It could even be Mr. /Ms. Random Person that you saw in the local coffee shop today. What do you want to say that you were never able to? You can leave the person(s) identity anonymous, if you’d like. Feel free to feature more than one person. Do it in letter form or any form you prefer. Show us that creativity!”

I decided to follow Lilu’s lead and write to a few people. So this is what i would say if i had stood up to the people who had hurt me in my life (and none of them are to regular readers)…so no getting huffy…

…..I still care a lot for you even though I know it was me who ruined our relationship. I know that I did this purely through my apathy and indifference towards you. Looking back you weren’t the drain on me I thought you were, i’m sorry.

…..I was upset on Sunday when I made the effort to call and you could barely manage a thanks and a hello. I was disappointed in you, I thought that you might realise how lonely I feel with all of you over there.

…..I’m not sorry I said ‘no’ to you today and dropped you in it. Over the last three years I have had to watch you succeed despite having no talent and no ability apart from only the gift of bullshit, backstabbing and lying. So I decided, it’s over, i’m not going to be your scapegoat anymore, that its time to stand on your own, expensively shod feet and work for your money for once. Oh and be careful, next time I wont hold back in letting people see who you really are.

…..You don’t shine as bright as you think you do.

…..Thank you for dumping me for ‘better’ friends as soon as you could, you made me realise I didn’t want or need you either.

…..Your comments about me having being on ‘good form recently’ (on nights out) have upset me, was I not a fun companion on nights out before?

…..I’m glad I married him, as I had the big wedding you wanted; now it means I can do it my way, properly, for real, for life next time; without all the fanfare.

…..Thank you for spending high school bullying me, sticking glue in my hair, ink on my shirt and bruises on my legs as I don’t think I would have moved to Edinburgh if you hadn’t. Even if back then it was running away, today I am strong, confident and better than you.

…..I’m glad I finished with you, although I have no idea why I didn’t do it sooner, when I thought you looked like an alien and repulsed me in bed.

…..I never loved you, although i said i did, i now know what love is and what we had wasnt love.

So there you go, If you want to do this prompt too, don’t forget to link back to their site – Twenty Something Writers

Kx

P.s – Emma from Because I like Waffles and Blethers gave me the Honest Scrap award - thanks Emma! I’m meant to write 10 things about me, but i’ve done it loads of times and as there are 10 things above, i think that’ll do.

If you don’t mind I think ill keep on the topic of children for a moment longer, this Sunday is Mother’s Day here in the UK. Although its now been hijacked like most meaningful days by the card companies, Mother’s Day has special meaning for me, as I have two mums to thank.

It’s no secret that I am adopted, but I rarely write about it, (you can read my only other post on the subject here). My parents were open about it as far back as I can remember – it was hard to miss, my sister is an Amazonian Kate Moss lookalike whilst I look like a pixie – and indeed the first book I learnt to read was entitled “I am adopted” (I was trying to find a link, but it was from the 70s). There is no scandal, no deep seated pain; my childhood was as good as I could have hoped for, weeks can go by without me thinking about it.

But every year, along comes Mother’s Day and I start to write a post on my adoption. Every year I delete it, thrash it, forget it, I think the process of writing about it is enough for me to remember how lucky I am.

But this year it will mean she has missed 30 years of Mother’s Days, 30 years of watching me grow up. She should be here with me when I contemplate starting my own family; she should be smiling at the thought of being a grandma, just like my adopted mum is doing with her daughter right now.

So this year, I just wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day, to you mum.

Ex

Having had a little time to reflect on the events of Saturday (and your comments, thank you) i’ve come to the conclusion that its not that The Boy wants children right now but that he finds me acceptable/suitable to have children with. This of course is rather flattering, and actually even better than someone saying they love you…. “I could see myself making a whole new person with you”…thats pretty darn special, right?

However, I’m not sure where he’s got this idea of ‘me’ from, why I could possibly make a suitable mother of his children. It is certainly never crossed my mind that id be a suitable mum. For a start…I think you have to be a mothering type, don’t you? I am not, definitely not, the mothering type:

The evidence…

1. I can’t look after myself, let alone another person. Dinner for the last three nights has consisted of 1) a beef and tomato Pot Noodle, 2) toast with beef spread and 3) one of those Philadelphia handy snack pots with breadsticks. Oh and an Easter egg, a Cadbury’s buttons one. And a bottle of red wine and half a bottle of white. I’m so full of nutritious values and healthy thoughts…Not! (However, I obviously know exactly what teenagers like to eat, and how they write by the looks of things; who uses Not! anymore?)

2. I’m Selfish. I’m not good at sharing my life with anyone and in particular I can be rather anti-social. I’m sure my head will explode if i’m badgered continuously by a small child pulling at my coat tails moaning mum mum mum mum mum mum mum etc etc etc. 

3. I’m not very patient. I stop listening very quickly; so in general I am the last person you go to for someone to listen and understand. I am good at giving advice though – generally along the lines of ‘stop bringing things on yourself’. Which wouldn’t be helpful to little minds either.

4. Morals? Lying? Cheating? Leading by example? Yeah right.

5. I’m rubbish at setting limits. I have no limits on myself let alone the ability to set them for someone else. One glass of wine always becomes three; one bottle of wine becomes Jeagerbomb shots, which results in Smidge time for bed. I have no self control. How am I meant to be able to discipline a child for drinking at 14 when I threw up out of my dad’s car window at exactly that age?

Ok, it may be that I am being a little harsh on myself, but I guess that he has seen something I haven’t, something in a future me that makes him broody.

Whatever that is, whether it’s a warmth, an ability to pass on love, to care, to help to nuture, to grow; if he can see it, then it’s there inside me. It’s been there all along, and that makes me happy.

One day, maybe ill see these things for myself….

Kx

Falling in love with a Glaswegian seems to have hastened a slow burning love for his home town. Whilst I can honestly say Glasgow just isn’t as fair and pretty as gentile Edinburgh, every time I travel through on Shit-rail I find myself starting to entertain that it really is ‘smiles better’.

Glasgow is the Agent Provocateur (dirty, naughty, and ready for nights of bad behaviour) to Edinburgh’s Marks & Spencers control pants (you will look fab on the outside, but never be able to let yourself go). I know what I prefer.

Anyway, debating the delights of Scotland’s seedier west coast isn’t the point of this post, but it is necessary for setting the scene, as on Saturday night, whilst in Glasgow, I got a bit of a shock.

It’s a known fact that Taxi drivers the world over like to talk; but arguably the best taxi driver chat in the world belongs to the Glaswegians. (It’s an experience not to be missed). Anyways, in the back of one such taxi on the way to the see Lily Allen on Saturday night, whilst the Boy and the driver were discussing the merits of the lovely Lily (complete with rude hand movements) I bemoaned the fact that I didn’t know half the bands on his radio anymore.

This, according to the driver was because I didn’t have any children; that children keep you young, fresh and hip with the music of today (although he did admit that he knew all the words to the Singing Kettle, and that their lyrics tended to be better than the recent load of drivel in the charts). And then, out of the mouth of my gorgeous (but laddish) toyboy came the immortal words, the kind of words that once said cant be taken back, the kind that makes you start to channel Natasha Beddingfield songs.

“we’ve been debating this”

He wasn’t talking about the Singing Kettle.

The taxi driver winked wryly at him in the mirror, started to joke about “oh women what are they like” only to be put straight that it was me that needed to be persuaded, not him. At this point my head went into such a spin I almost fell off the seat.

I’m still not sure i heard it right, and i’ve not dared to talk about it since. But what the hell the butterflies i’ve been having ever since mean… i don’t know.

Kx

I’ve been neglecting this poor blog recently (twitter has taken over, bad tweeter) but i am putting a post together, honest.

In the meantime, here are some pics from the Lily Allen gig at the 02 Acadamy in Glasgow on Saturday night (aka the gig where lily puked up outside). To be honest the gig was pretty boring, i miss the lily of old – whilst her voice actually sounds pretty darn good, she’s lost a lot of the spark she once had (even tho she sang a song entitles F**K You and the puking incident) – it was all just a little ‘nice’. But then im not one for pop concerts and what would i know really? As Lily herself would say… “got an opinion, yea your well off the slating“. …

Again these are pretty rubbish as they are off my phone camera, but i like them.

Kx

 Lily Allen at the O2 Academy, Glasgow, Saturday 14 March 2009

….yep… right about now …. it’s been exactly a month… here I go again…

I don’t know why I haven’t noticed before, but it seems that as the full moon comes around (and the other girly stuff I wont mention) I get all introspective and self critical and want to write things like “It might be weird to say, but I don’t actually often like my blog”.

So I am resisting the urge to be needy and writing yet another introspective ‘woe is me’ type post or even the ‘I’m-not-on-the-verge-of-suicide, I-promise, and-my-life-really-isn’t-as-bad-as-I-make-out’ type post perfect for hormonal days.

So instead, today is a day for firsts; for something new in my life… (No i’m not pregnant or turning into a sex blogger, although that would be fun, the sex bit, not the baby). Today I shall make my first mention of… THE GYM.

But I shall level with you.

I don’t think I actually need to go to the gym. (Although that’s just like saying I don’t think I need to give up smoking when I clearly do).

I’m not fat; I’m the kind of girl who has never been involved in a girly moaning session about weighty issues. I have a BMI of 22.2 for god’s sake – i’m healthy, a bit curvy with tits and ass and a bit of squidgy around the tummy that’s slowly getting worse as I get older. But i’m no longer 18; things aren’t going to stay this way forever. And i’m noticing it; and I don’t like it. Its time to get real – i’m 30, my metabolism is slowing, the effects of alcohol no longer disappears with my hangover, but hangs around on my hips.

In fact, what I should really tell you is in the last 3 months I have put on 5kg… that’s 11 pounds, nearly a stone. This can not keep on happening. If it does, in 6 months time I’ll be officially over weight.

So, last month I started on the soup and salad and the healthy eating. No longer do I order a curry every Monday night and a Chinese every Saturday. Every meal comes with some kind of salad. Even my dressing is low fat (and horrible). I have yet to resort to buying red milk (i’m a blue milk girl), I still eat crisps, but I now only eat one Tunnocks Wafer a night rather than two (I don’t need to lose weight, come on!).

It seems to be working; no further weight has gone on. Yet.

Now we come to the second problem…

I have a toyboy; he is 26 and skinny and rather gorgeous to look at. And he puts me to shame in the fitness stakes. And I want to compete. I want him to see happy me, healthy me, sexy me (not that i’m not sexy right now, cos I am, i’m not missing out here), I want more energy, I want to sleep better. I want all the things that a healthy lifestyle gives me.

I just hate the idea of it.

I’m a bad, smoking, drinking, partying kind of chick; not an eco, airy fairy hippy yummy soon to be mummy gym bunny with designer wear up my ass crack. Why can’t i be 18 again?

Grrr.

Kx

P.s i start at the gym tonight.

If you remember a while back I did a 10 commandments for my boy post. They seemed to go down well with you lot (not so well with him, he wasn’t that happy) so, I’ve decided to do another one, this time my own 10, for me, which I shall honestly try to stick to…

(That’s ‘honestly’. Not ‘all the time’.)

1) I shalt remember not to value a person who does not value me; ‘friend dates’ should be a regular thing, not seeing each other/contacting each other for weeks on end does not a friendship make. Nor shalt I be the one doing all the chasing; friendship is a reciprocal arrangement. (As is buying rounds at the bar, there is no room in my life for cheapskates…)

2) I shalt remember that helping other people helps me; especially listening and learning to see from the other perspective – assuming is stifling. I shalt also remember that although everyone thinks they are right, no one is omnipresent. I don’t actually have to listen to you, or take your advice (and i can slap you for “i told you so” type comments)

3) I shalt not think that life will be better in the future. I have to live now. However, having walked away from my life twice already, there is no need to do it a third time. I shalt keep reminding myself that life is good right now. (and that sex is free if all else fails)

4) I shalt remember that having guts always works out for me and that being brave always gets me through difficult periods in my life. Challenging myself is a good thing and makes life exciting. Whether this is travelling alone or presenting to 50 people, its never as scary as I think it will be. (Unless i find myself naked in front of an audience, like i did in my dreams last night)

5) I shalt remember that actually doing the things I set out to do increases my satisfaction in life. Whilst failure is something I have accepted, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t push myself to achieve things that I believe to be out of my reach. I can’t not do anything. (well, apart from singing, snowboarding, keep my nails filed neatly, face sex in the morning, stop smoking…)

6) I shalt remember that being untruthful always works against me. I’ve learnt this the hard way. Karma is real and always comes back to bite you on the ass. (if i lie to you i promise you can come bite me on the ass…)

7)I shalt remember that money does not make me happy and that material luxuries are best enjoyed in small doses. I shalt not be jealous of those with more than me as even though they may more, I am happy, they might not be. (although i’d be happy if i could spend 3 weeks a year in the Maldives…)
I shalt remember that trying to look good for other people limits my life. I am me and this is how I look, people should like me for who I am, not what they think I should dress like. (although showering is a good idea, as is deoderant and cleaning off the cat hair from my clothes before i leave the house)

9) I shalt remember that worrying solves nothing and complaining is silly. I shall either act or forget. (and then bitch about it afterwards, just for a little while)

10) I shalt remember that low expectations are a good strategy, you can always build on what you have learnt, achieve more and never be disappointed in anyone when they don’t reach my high expectations. (the only way is up, baby, for me and you know… im still dancing to yazz 10 years on)

What are your ten personal commandments?

Kx

Before you start to read, I apologise as the topic is a heavy one, I really don’t want this to turn into a health blog, but I need to talk about it somewhere. So bear with me if you please. If you want to catch up, I suggest you read this post first.

Recently, I wrote a post about facing my end of the mortal coil, the shame I felt that at times people who are so much more deserving of life will lose theirs before I mine. I wrote a post so thankful that my time wasn’t up yet, that I had so much more to look forward to, that after the scare I would get busy living, before I got busy dying.

Get busy living, before I get busy dying

Good philosophy yes? Being an adopted child, I knew from the beginning that I was lucky to have a life, so many children these days never even got a start – but I did and it’s something to be thankful for. If i’m brutally stark (and a realist) from the moment we are born we are getting busy dying; we just don’t know how long we have left – its how we look after the life we have. Somewhere along the line I forgot to look after my life. That’s my fault, and not one I can blame on anyone else.

Yesterday I came home to yet another letter from the NHS.

About two weeks ago I had a second (and boys? Maybe you should look away now…) a Colopscopy to examine abnormal cells on my cervix. Now it seems I need a follow up ultrasound, for what reason, I don’t know. I guess it’s only precautionary, but honestly however hard to try to suppress it, I’m a little scared. It’s the not knowing that’s the worst.

I’ve always thought that I had so long in life; maybe not just to live, but to do all the things I wanted to do. My early twenties have extended well into my 30s, the though of a settling down, staying with one man, a family still over the horizon.

I guess that short letter has triggered what only can be described as a reality check – Peter Pan never had to worry about cancer. Maybe I haven’t got all the time in the world, maybe it will never be for me, maybe i have found a man that loves me, but does he love me enough?. My life now feels out of control, that these tests will set me on a course for the future that yesterday i hadn’t considered, that growing up is the only way forward if i am to experience everything life could give me.

Kx

P.s Thanks for listening, Introspection in the face of adversity – a wonderful thing and i guess what this blogging thing is here for.