… 11 years old with a short boy hair cut, far too many pairs of Bermuda shorts, a bumbag and a green and purple hyperwave t-shirt. Smash hits, Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, New Kids on the Block. Screeeeeaaam!
… a grungy mosher, nose piercing, long hippy purple skirts, black vest, ripped fishnets, a French army jacket, cherry dms, and lashings of eyeliner and black hair. Listening to Soundgarden and Nirvana, Seattle and Courtney Love….
… cropped tops and halter necks and baggy boy friend jeans embracing the Madchester sound. Louise Weiner, Natalie Imbruglia…hands in the air, jump up and down… Don’t waste your words I don’t need anything from you I don’t care where you’ve been or what you plan to do…
…cammo nets, banging the roof, loose trousers, tiny pockets, hair tied back, shiny faces, after parties, the walk of shame in the sunshine…all about the music, the club, the time, the place, cheesy grins all round…but sooner or later in life the things you love you lose…Just like before, I know I call you… come to my sweet melody, no, you can’t help it if you feel have been tempted by fruit hanging ripe on the tree…
…and then sitting on the grass, a sunhat, shades, cider in hand, listening to the music of the 80s, the 90s, the 00s, bohemian dresses, long curly hair, leather satchel, fluffy, furry, fringed boots. Face paint, Wellingtons with spots and eagle necklaces…the sun on your face…
…then the wash out, the greys, the white, the sensible heals, the straightened hair, the block colour for the shine, the pink nails, a button down shirt, a button up cardigan…asleep at your desk with your history for company…
…but then finding your dm’s in the wardrobe at your parents, flower dresses are back in fashion, Tim Burgess on the decks… I see your heart is empty, i’ve got plenty… Come see me in the mornin’…
…can’t you see I’m tellin’ stories…
It’s time for another guest post over at 30 years and counting. This time it’s my 10 lessons i have learnt about love (oops, yep, another list) so pop over and check me out (and add your lessons in the comments!).
Here is a little sample: -
…A small effort goes a long way, if only to make the person you are with happy; but, Agent Provocateur underwear isn’t sexy if you have to spend an age getting it on, let alone off..
Back soon!
I’ve another confession to make, Monday’s fraking hell my life is shite post was a bit of a fraud. Yes, all those things are happening to me, yes they are all pretty scary, but do you know what?
I’m coping.
I’ve been reading back over the archives of this blog. Two years I was getting dumped by friends and boyfriends left right and centre. I was lonely and alone. I was unhappy with my life, but didn’t know how to change it. I often wrote like my life was ending, that the men in white coats were ready to carry me off. Looking back it’s obvious as I was a highly strung, pissed off with life, hot mess.
December 2008 saw me at my lowest ever, the Boy had finished with me, I was still hanging on to the coat tails of my ex best friends (who had wiped me off the planet). The end almost came after I had crawled home from a night out in the poring rain, blubbing my little heart out, just trying to get home to investigate the content of the bathroom cabinet. I was lucky, there was nothing there of use.
After a trip home to mum, for the first 6 months of last year I reconsidered my life.
In January 2009 I wrote that “I have to relearn that I’m a good person; that I’m deserving of friends”. In February I got rid of the sprit sucking spectre that had been darkening my home for the last 18 months and I started the battle against my worsening health, a battle I am winning today. In March I wrote a letter to everyone who had hurt me, taunted me, and broken me. In May I cleared the ghosts of my wedding, the pain it brought me was flushed away leaving me strong enough a year later to get divorced.
It was the cathartic move I needed.
But then in June it all came crashing down around my ears again, all the painstaking work to rebuild myself, gone in an instant when the Boy left me again and in July, I fell out with one of my best friends, an argument so dramatic we didn’t speak for nearly a year. I was relapsing, quickly. The turning point finally came when just before leaving the home the LTE and I had bought together I broke a mirror. I decided that
“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?”
…and that
“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…”
So, what’s the point of this post? Well, its now a year later and I believe in the power of good luck. Things have moved on so far from July 2009, I don’t know myself anymore. I’m not sure when the change happened, when I suddenly got happy.
But I know now the change is finally permanent, I know that when the boxes start falling I can push them back into their precarious piles. I know I have people to rely on, friends I can call, a boyfriend who loves me.
I’ve come a long way (baby) and I want to take this opportunity to thank you all (yes you reading this) helping, reading and listening to me along the way. Here’s to many more years of good luck, remind me to break another mirror when the time comes!
Humph, to add to my (middle class problems) it seems in changing my blog layout I have done something to my feed. You have all disappeared!
If you are reading this through a feed can you let me know you can still see me? Thanksverymuchly.
Back later x