Smidge

As a child I loved ‘choose your own adventure’ books. I suppose they appealed to my precocious nature – I wanted to choose, I wanted to be in control, I wanted life to be exciting, full of possibilities, full of choices that I made.

But deep down I never actually let my decisions in the book guide me – I always cheated. I was always jumping four steps ahead, sussing out the possible endings; by holding on tightly to the pages you could always jump forward, check out the risky paths, safe in the knowledge you could always turn back and try again.

My favourite book was called Inside UFO 54-40 (thanks wiki for reminding me of the name) which had a ‘happy ever after’ paradise that you could never reach by conventional c-y-o-a means. Only by searching every page of the book could you come across the page.

Bear with me here- I know this is a huge smack in the face metaphor, but this book taught me more about what life is really like more than anything else.

Happy ever after is always there, out of reach, but within touching distance from daily life. No amount of making the correct choices will ever get you there. No back stepping, changing your mind, red lights, starting afresh will ever get you any closer to it.

Sometimes you just have to stop following paths, stop making decisions and let your mind wander alone. Maybe you might then just happen upon it instead.

This is what i remind myself of when the path ahead seems so very hard.

Kx

Regulars, twitter folk, friends and lurkers – Miss Smidge needs you!

As you will know (as i have been going on about it plenty)  i am off on holiday very so on and i need your help.

So, this is the challenge.

Up to now this blog has been all about me.

Whilst i am away i want to make it all about you!

I am looking for guest posters to write about themselves – it can be about any topic, as long as you are the focus – your hopes, dreams, fears and issues. Make it real!

If you are up for it/brave enough then drop me a line at the above contacts. 

(if it really is ‘real’ and you aren’t brave enough to post it under your real name then i’m happy to receive anonymous posts!)

Kx

P.s dress (but in black) and shoes for wedding bought yesterday… what do you think?

Despite living in one of the world’s greatest cities (best place to live in the UK dontcha know) I don’t live here like a tourist. I don’t ‘do the festival’ unless it’s to drink, I don’t ‘do the castle’ unless it’s to drink, and i certainly don’t ‘do Arthur’s Seat’ unless i’ve had a lot to drink.

I don’t need to be a tourist here – I live here; I have my cafes, i have my bars, i have the places i like to hang out. I avoid the Grassmarket at the best of times, the Royal Mile, not for me; of course i can see a certain prettiness, but in August it’s disguised by flyers and posters and various drama students out stupefying each other.

Any visitor my fair city is in for a lot of drinking if they wish to force me to do any of the above without me stabbing one of the many resident yah’s in the back.

(That’ll you be you then Helen)

But occasionally the festival brings a moment of karma that puts a smile on your face for days…like accidentally slamming a portaloo door into the face of the very annoying yah who had been sitting behind me at the Pete Firman magic show kicking my seat and snivelling at the scottishness of my friends and the amount of drink we had brought in…

(it WAS by accident…honest)

(loved it)

(seriously loved it)

(daddy will buy you a new nose anyways)

(and maybe a hairbrush)

Anyways, drinking a lot of booze is Scottish. As is speaking with a Scottish accent. As is finding things funny. As is laughing loudly. As is NOT being stuck up, rude and so stuck in your own bubble that ‘doing edinburgh’ is the most fun you’ll ever have.

Karma is a bitch love.

Kx

P.s. she didn’t really need a new nose.

P.p.s I had a wicked wicked time this weekend with Helen of With Eyes Wide Open. If anyone is like her blog in real life its her. Total star.

P.p.p.s… saying “we are just here to drink” is an excellent way to get rid of flyer-ers.

P.p.p.p.s…normal blogging service will resume shortly. I am working 10 hour days right now.

A couple of days ago I asked you lot to interview me. Yup it was a veiled way of scoring new blog topics, but I hope you will forgive me…my brain isn’t doing the whole creative thing right now – I have a lot of other things to be getting along with like finding a dress for the wedding I’m off to in 3 weeks (in Spain, sort of a holiday, although I’m going with two of the Boys mates too – hum) moving in 4 weeks and starting university (again) in 5. Phew.

Anyways, moving on, thanks to those who contributed. Amongst the random tourettes/tigers and gravy (!!) based ones, one topics stood out – karma.

Regular readers will know that Karma is something of an ongoing theme of this here blog; I’ve thrown the karma threat at more people than i care to think about – sticking my tongue out in a ‘the universe will get you’ kind of way can be terrifically satisfying when you’ve been bullied into a corner by yet another ex friend or ex boyfriend.

The question i was asked was whether i believed in karma; and my answer, as a pragmatist has to be no. What i understand we mean by karma is that morally we all live by a set of ‘rules’, that when broken bring the wrath of karma down upon us. Right?

Well, no. Despite the 10 commandments still holding a tentative grip over us, it is often the case that we all live with our own version of these rules; lets call it our ‘slack’. The main issue is when our reaction to someone’s actions doesn’t take account of the other person’s slack.

(I for one have broken many a commandment over the years, but my slack means i don’t beat myself up about it – but some people could consider my behaviour over the years to be despicable, and BC would have meant I deserved a good stoning Life of Brian style. And vise versa… Every one always thinks they are right.)

If you/they don’t consider it wrong, do the ‘laws’ of karma still apply? Can I really expect them to receive retribution for something that in their eyes isn’t wrong?

See? Karma is inherently flawed. (Plus how what can goes around really can come around is an interesting conundrum; Karma isn’t like flu or herpes, its not physical, it can’t be caught or passed on purpose.)

But, despite the fact i know it doesn’t and can’t exist (and im hoping you’ll agree or disagree here) karma would always be my secret superhero weapon of choice; as, if throwing a little karma someone’s way means that next time they check the impact of their ‘slack’ then i’m all for a little mystical bullshit.

Kxx

Yes i know this is my second post today – please keep leave me a question on my last post  – it was meant to be fun…i know you are out there!

OK enough begging, i want to rant….

I’ve had it up to here with banking. After being cash only for a number of years i finally bit the bullet and got a switch card. Three days later it broke (and no i didn’t break it by over spending in a ‘mad i got plastic’ way) cash machines just kept rejecting it. It was damn well broken alright…

So off i went to order a new one. Four days later a basic cashline card turned up – not what i was looking for. So, i phoned up to complain and they promised another one would be sent out asap.

After phoning the bank, i visited a local chain supermarket. At the till with my cat food, brownies and bread rolls my switch card (that bit still worked) was rejected and retained! Now i live in a rather dodgy part of the city and of course i was worried about the store keeping my card with all the details on it – even if it was no longer working and they said they would cut it up. I ranted and raved and asked to see the manager but to no avail. (… and yes,  i’m ashamed to ever go back!)

I phoned the bank to see what had gone on (i was panicking about having no money, something had gone off, i was overdrawn…etc) – and was told that after i had called them they had recorded my card as being stolen! Not what i had told them. Does anyone at my branch ever listen to me?

Arghhhh

So, another week later and I now have a new card which works… phew. Annoyance over… i’m still extremely pissed off for the bank for all the shit, and the apology really didn’t cut it, but hey i’m a chilled person and it wasn’t the woman on digital bankings fault – i couldn’t really yell at her could I? Although it would have been rather satisfying.

Anyways, today i go to check into online banking and find my account has been blocked as someone has been trying to break into it! Its going to take another 4 days for my access to be restored, i need online banking, i need to know what is going on! I’m a control freak ok?

Who else reckons the card being taken in the supermarket and this is linked? How do shops dispose of taken switch cards? Why do shops have a right to retain your card when not all staff are probably 100% trustworthy?

This i would really like to know.

Kx

Way back in January, I was ‘interviewed’ by Liz Sara of If Music Be… (You can see the post here…) and then I also interviewed a few of you in return.

As I’m rather frazzled today getting my head round going on holiday, moving house and starting university all within the course of 3 weeks, I need a break and for you lot to do the work for once.

So, this is a one time offer… ask me anything you like, it can be clean, dirty, philosophical, about politics, religion, marriage, fashion… whatever, just don’t be easy on me.

Go on – go for it… either leave a comment, DM me or if its particularly dirty or evil then email me at miss.smidge at googlemail dot com (link at top).

Kx

P.s Feel free to do this on your own blog – ill ask questions too! Its cheesy time, lets get to know each other

Yes i really did write that…

Look! a kitten

That distracted you!

I’m not superstitious per se; I might be a bit OCD occasionally, but I don’t really go in for all the not walking under a ladder, throwing sugar over the shoulder and touching wood malarkey. However, I must admit last night as I managed to smash a mirror to pieces as I was merrily covering the ex-flatmate’s bathroom in cillit bang I did irrationally start panicking – 7 years bad luck, 7 years bad luck, 7 YEARS BAD LUCK!

I really don’t need 7 years bad luck; i’ve just been through what has felt like 7 years of bad luck, especially on the relationship front – Two houses, one ex husband, and one ex long term boyfriend, plus lots of ex-friends; I think that’s enough bad luck for a long time, don’t you?

But, I took alot of deep breaths, plenty of mind over matter and remembered that Mr Wonder was right …“when you believe in things that you don’t understand, when you suffer, superstition aint the way”

So I ignored it.

(Ok, well in the back of my mind, I did wonder, just for a second if burning the mirror would work… and then shook my head and carried on cleaning…and then i span round in a circle 3 times , just in case…)

Ahem, the point is that I’ve come to believe over the years, that superstitions are self-perpetuating – If you think it will happen, then it will; if you think you are going to break up, then you will break up. Pragmatic it might be, but in my experience very real.

Unfortunately I’m not sure this works in reverse, but one can only try. So, to compensate for the 7 years of bad luck i’m due, i’m only going to allow good luck in my life.

(ahem, we’ll see how long this will last, i’m not known for being an optimist).

From now on there is no such thing as bad luck. No thing that can’t be turned around eventually. No thing that means i wont eventually end up on the right path. There is only good luck….

Hoorah for positive thinking….

Kx

P.s i really had enough yesterday, i lost a filling, my switch card got cut up in a shop and then i broke the mirror. I hid under my pillow after all that.

P.p.s: a black cat came to see me this morning and brought me news that my tenants are moving out a month early! I move into my wee place the weekend after i’m back from my holiday…

Good luck 1 – Bad luck 0

Before you jump on me, this is a JOKE and yes i am English…

1. Leave the city altogether, rent out your flat at an extortionate cost to some sucker who is desperate for a room and go on holiday. Choose somewhere hot, quiet and away from the English/American/every other nation under the sun which seems to descend on us at this time of year - basically anywhere the opposite of Edinburgh.
2. If you have to stay invest in a) a big stick to ward off the nearest arty farty, posh university student in their Royal Shakespeare Company on acid garb / monk playing a violin or goth singing Dolly Parton and b) learn to repeat no! NO! NOOOO! I DON’T WANT A FLYER very loudly or you will never get anywhere, quickly.
3. Invest in a pair of ear plugs. Festival go-ers have loud annoying accents and love talking about the one man and his dog with a dildo up his bum show that they have just been to see. Yah Yah Yah is much more fun to listen to muffled. Plus you don’t need to say NO quite as much.
4. Learn to cook – quickly. You will not to go out for dinner for the month. Restaurants, despite having to pander to their regular customers all year suddenly put on special, expensive set menus and refuse to take bookings. If only festival goers could be hurdled into pens and fed grass , just like the sheep they are.
5. Forget trying to get a taxi. Just forget it. There aren’t enough for the rest of the year let alone an extra million people who think it is their right not to have to queue. Take flat shoes if you are going out and be prepared to walk home.
6. Visit Leith instead – it isn’t Edinburgh and has its own festival in June, so is mostly untouched by the screaming hordes in August.
7. Don’t live next to The Meadows. If you do and you can’t follow point 1, then move to Leith. 6 weeks of the Ladyboys of BanCocks singing Dancing Queen every night 3 times will make you want to run out and stab the next American tourist who asks where the Castle is.
8. Start enjoying giving tourists the wrong directions. If you see one with a map, stop and offer to be their guide. Remember the Old Town is north of the Castle and the New Town is south, the Central Bar in Leith is a great festival hangout and there are some amazing shows this year in Muirhouse.
9. Avoid the Royal Mile, The Pleasance, George Square, Potterow, the Old Town, the New Town, Stockbridge, Newington, Morningside and any “official Festival” parties – they are generally crap and filled with festival and Edinburgh local wannabees, expensive drink and the acts so desperate for recognition they’ll turn up for anything.
10. Draw up a hit list of comedian(ens) to spot on the street so you can mumble “you are shit” and “you wont have a show here next year” “you’ll never win the Perrier” as they weave past steaming at 3am.
11. Learn to love fireworks. You’ll be bored of them by the 3rd night. If anyone asks you where the best place to watch them is, then tell them The Meadows 1) The Ladyboys will drive them mad and 2) they might get mugged like the rest of us and never come back..

and finally….if all else fails…

Get drunk. Remember the bars are open til 3am and the clubs until 5am. The only way to survive is to not remember a thing during August.

I spent Friday night with some new ‘friends’. (I think I can call them friends, in fact id be proud if I could call them new friends). It was a chance to meet some of the people I converse with on-line (via twitter) on a daily basis, the people who make me smile, think and wonder at other people’s lives. A chance to step out from behind my monitor, to put myself and my lack of confidence on the line and well, live for real.

I had a good time. I surprised myself by having a good time. The boy said I came home eyes a sparkle – which is when he knows I am happy – and all of a chatter of the diverse group of women I had spent the evening with.

Between chats about humanism, divorce, relationships, catholicism, friendships, cats and boyfriends one thing stuck out for me the most, one question that hit me: was I being me or my blog persona? Was there a difference? Am I really me behind this monitor or me with a glass of wine in my hand in good company?

At the time I think I rambled an answer out, because the real truth is that I don’t know.

I have been blogging seriously for about 3 years now – and for much of that – no one really knew I was here. This blog was a smokescreen, therapy, my way of getting the stuff in my head out, I had never met a reader, if people read then they didn’t come on to reply, to condole, to give advice, to agree, to disagree. Then life and blogging started crossing over and now I meet people who know the on-line me, but not the real life me.

In truth, they are one and the same. The one difference is that in company I’m not as honest about ‘myself’ I am on here. I don’t challenge ‘myself’ in company as I do on here. This blog is the full me, warts and all. The bad and the good. The same bad and good that many people are scared to show the world.

But then, unless you are friends with people who allow yourself to really be yourself then you actually are a shadow of who they think they know; in the long run, I’d prefer my friends to know the real me, not some sanitised version.

I’m not yet that person, I’m not fully my blogging persona when I’m out, but I’m working on it.

Kx