Home is where the heart is
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light, from now on, our troubles will be out of sight
I’m rather ba-humbug about Christmas this year.
Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the 21st December and I have yet to get a tree – despite last year practically getting one on the 1st.
Or maybe it’s because i’m ho-hum about the presents I’ve bought folk – not terribly inspiring I must say.
Possibly it’s because i’m worried about getting home at all for it – my parents live high up in the Pennines and are currently snowed in having fun teaching an Australian baby to sledge.
(Someone told me, or I read it somewhere, that you know that you are an adult when your first reaction when you see snow is ‘oh god’ rather than ‘oh goody’ – tramping about dirty, crowded streets in the ice and wind is not my idea of fun – give me a mountain, fresh air and quiet instead.)
If I wanted to do a little more head dabbling, I could say its because my sister en famille are over from Australia and the attention will be focused around the extended rather than the close, but that just makes me sound bitter and twisted and rather ungrateful – and i’m looking forward to giving my nephew such a hug.
But it also could be the fact that I’m working right up to Christmas Eve instead of like last year harumphing off home quick smart (after getting dumped) – there is nothing like the anticipation of Christmas sat in front of the fire with your feet up gossiping with your papa over a whiskey late at night.
But maybe, really, truthfully, its because i’m nervous of things going wrong, of putting my trust in waking up on Christmas morning with kisses and smiles and presents, of happiness and family and friends on New Year when last year was so dark and empty and cold.
But maybe this does me good to remember, as it’s so easy to forget those who are going through it very alone.
But maybe, hopefully, thankfully, this year Christmas will be a little different, a little shinier, and a little happier for us all.
Miss S xx
right here right now
Why you sittin there for? Playing that role? Actin unsure? What all that for? It’s Christmas, it’s a holiday
So today is my work’s Christmas lunch.
I can break my no talking about work with this one, as really Christmas lunch isn’t about work is it?
Ok, i’m lying, the Christmas lunch/night out is the most work related thing you will have to do all year. It’s a bloody minefield….
1) If you get there first, even if you try to sit in the middle so you can speak to everyone you will end up between two groups, neither of which will speak to you.
2) Who you sit next to determines the future of your career. If you end up next to the bloke who never changes his jacket – then you are thought of the same way.
3) Cliques in work are the same as cliques out of work. No one really is more friendly with a drink inside them and if they are they always seem to forget the following Monday.
4) Turkey is awful – why eat it twice? – you can have curry instead – Christmas wont die just because you do.
5) Following the meal you will always end up in random bars in a random part of town, just to carry on drinking. Your work mate’s choice is never your choice, but you go with the expensive drinks, bad atmosphere and awful music ‘just because it’s Christmas’.
6) There is always one person who gets reeking drunk. This is usually the same person every year. Their behaviour is always a signal to get the hell out of there before things get really bad.
7) If you end up snogging a work mate then the best option is never to talk about it again and deny it even happened in your own head – if you have to face the workmate again carry on with your job obliviously.
8) Don’t have regrets – Don’t be the last one standing. Don’t try to guess your boss’s salary. Don’t start mixing drinks. Don’t start buying rounds. Don’t start suggesting clubbing.
9) Do just leave – no one really cares that you are leaving – you are stopping the fun and will moan at you to stay, they won’t notice if you just go.
10) Make sure that you have a party to go to afterwards – you’ll need to get properly drunk as soon as you leave!
Happy works Christmas Do!
Miss S x
right here right now
turn summer trees to bones and ice, turn insect songs against the night, with words we build and words we break
Having spent the last 3 days in bed, i’ve had a lot of time to think. And read your blog posts. And all the creativity out there and the looking back and the review of the last 10 years (thanks H for the idea, its on its way) and i’ve come to realise something.
I’ve lost something.
I’m really not sure what it is, but sometime over the couple of years the drama left my life.
I used to love drama.
I used to love the fact that my life was like a soap opera.
I used to love the fact my life was non stop.
I was doing this boy and oh no, now i’m doing this boy too and this friend knows and that one doesn’t and oh my god where did i wake up this time and this band is the best i’ve ever fucking seen. I loved the whole “so where are you lets go out and party” and the “Yes my flat is 5 minutes away lets go drink some more” times.
(Ok, it might look from recent photos that i am still like this, but i’m not. Honestly)
But then I met him, the LTE and i became homebody me, the comfortable me, the quiet me.
But then i became the bitter me, the looking back me, the wondering where my fun and happy and exciting life went to me.
I missed the crazy me. I missed the non stop energiser bunny personality that i used to have. I missed the working in clubs, in bars. I missed bar boys and bar flies and personalities and all the crazy people i used to meet every weekend. I missed random numbers in my phone filed under the name of the bus stop we met in.
And i went back to the evil me, the soap opera me, lying cheating, not coming home me.
…and then because of me all that ended and i became alone me, rebound me, looking me.
But i still hadn’t lost me. Not yet.
Then i fell in love and i really did lose me(*).
…and ME is still lost….
It’s ME, that’s missing.
This is why i look at people and think i don’t fit in. Because now i have no idea who me is or where what could have been me for the last 31 years has gone to.
…and all the quick fix solutions i’ve put up on here in the last 6months don’t have a cat in hells chance of working if i can’t find me again.
But i’ve got bloody no idea where to start this time.
Miss S x
(*) If you need the history to this, go here, here, here and here….
Hi everyone, welcome to the Miss Smidge blog.
You see there is something called statcounter, it tells me lots of things about the people who read my blog and when i suddenly get an extra 100 or so hits a day i start to wonder who you are. If you are new to blogging you might not know this but Blogs are reciprocal things, you read, you say Hi and make yourself known as a reader, especially if you dont want to make me feel I have a stalker.
Anyways, enough of the passive-aggressiveness i’m not sure how many of my readers have made it over here from the old place (and how many got lost on the way) so this is your chance to say hello and make yourself known – I like Miss Smidge to be a community you see.
Not just somewhere to read some gossip from my world 
Miss S x