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On freedom

Like it’s supposed to, it was the eclipse that started it.

All the talk about new beginnings and strange happenings passed a cynic like me by, but it was the eclipse that made me do something I’ve never ever done.  The eclipse made me think about something that an ex partner said to me on the day of the 1999 eclipse.  It was quite innocuous in the context of our relationship. It was no doubt horrible, as many people pointed out, but was by no means the worst.

It wasn’t what he said that got me thinking though, it was that I’d never, ever tweeted anything about the bad times of our relationship. Yes, I’d mentioned him and yes many people know it wasn’t an easy relationship to say the least but as for actual specifics on the main timeline, I certainly can’t recall doing it.

Then I realised that it was because I felt safe to do it, and no longer felt the need to keep the secrets. After over three years and various stages of twitter silence, changing my account name and various suspicious random accounts following me, I finally feel like I can say what I want on my twitter account.

This in turn got me thinking about the concept of freedom. I don’t want to make this post the gory details about previous relationships, firstly because it’s only my side of the story and secondly, the person in question has no right to reply to this, but I haven’t always had physical freedom.   That took a lot of getting used to and still does from time to time, but the mental freedom still isn’t 100% there. That’s why it took me a while to write this, I suppose. If I get it out and manage to post it, it’s one stage on from the tweet, right? It may be that I spend my whole time panicking after pressing send but then at least I stop being worried, and stop feeling like I have to protect the people that hurt me.

Mental freedom is the hurdle that I now face. I still constantly feel like I’m in the wrong;  that every act of indifference is rejection or something to do with me being inherently bad or unlovable. I am better at this than I was- I wear makeup, I wear nice clothes and I try to take care of my body as much as I am able when I am able – but I wouldn’t say that I was free from worrying about what other people think, see or judge me to be.  I’m slowly learning that if people don’t appreciate me that that may not be my problem. It could be theirs.

I know I’ve a way to go but now, finally, I feel like I can tweet like nobody is watching and I’m coming round to the idea that I may be the kind of person people like to be friends with.  So please bear with me if I need your reassurance, and those that know me know I need a LOT, because I think that it’s all part of me getting better and getting my freedom back.

Thanks for reading,

Hx

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Yesterday, I tweeted this:

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It was a throwaway comment, but it got me thinking.

 

I’ve never been cool. A desperate need to please people tends to do that. Cool people aren’t bothered what people think, are they? They just walk around, being cool. Not caring what others think about them. I’m the kind of person that apologises when my foot dares to be where someone else wants to put theirs. I’m not fashionable, I have no idea about what’s cutting edge or current when it comes to music and films. But I know what I like. I always have.

 

My mum and I were talking the other day about when I was a kid and my insistence that I watch the Rocky Horror Show once a week from the age of about ten.  The crux of the conversation was that I was probably never going to fit in.

 

And you know what? I was glad. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but who does? When you’re a teenager, all you want to be is like everyone else. All I wanted to be was a grown up so that I could stop caring.

 

Turning 30 was fabulous for me because I could finally stop pretending that I was bothered about staying in on a Saturday night watching talent shows.

 

I still worry about what people think but I’ve realised something.

 

Although I’m not cool, I am unique. I am me and this is what me is about:

 

I’m useless at playing it cool. I still get excited when I see a celebrity, however minor.  Seriously, I once followed Rick Waller around HMV in Bromley for a ridiculous amount of time.

 

I own a High School Musical box set which I have watched more than once.

 

My top ten favourite bands probably haven’t changed in the last fifteen years.

 

I don’t watch the news, but I’m up to date on Hollyoaks.      

 

I actually do things like I said in the tweet above.

 

I think puns are hilarious.

 

I love that I can get to be scathing about television on the internet. It brings me great joy that people actually read it.

 

I don’t drink and I’m absolutely fine with that.

 

Oh and finally…

 

My favourite film is still Rocky Horror.

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My poor neglected blog. It’s been a while, but something happens that makes you want to write something beyond my usual Facebook status or 140 twitter characters.

I was having a pretty crappy Monday. It was my first day back after two weeks off. The clocks had gone forward and I wanted my hour back, dammit! I was having my “quick read” of the internet to prime me before I faced the email mountain and the pile of crap that was about to face me.

Then it popped up on my twitter feed.

The Bluetones are disbanding.

It was awful. I said on twitter that I genuinely hadn’t been this upset since Robbie left Take That. I think some people thought I was joking, but it’s true. Never has a musical announcement even made me feel slightly upset since then and before Monday.

It took me a while to realise why I was so upset. I put a lot of it down to Monday blues – a compound effect of all the other crap that had flung itself my way that day, but the feeling of sadness lasted through until today.  Then I realised.

I always thought they’d be there, because they always have been.

My brother bought me Expecting to Fly for my 16th birthday. I’d given him a choice of albums to get and he chose that one.  I can’t remember what the other choices were, I wish I could because it would be an interesting aside that would add texture and colour to this.  I still have the tape. The front was embossed with a sticker that’s nearly worn away. The back half of the tape is missing. It’s cracked but the jagged edges are smooth.

That tape left home with me. It was joined by another album that was the soundtrack to my gap year; Return to the Last Chance Saloon. Another tape that I still have.  This was followed by Science and Nature, which came out bang in the middle of my time at university, and the tour that accompanied it was the first time I’d seen them live and one of the best nights of my student life. The albums that followed are not so marked by eras in my life but are still memorable to me. I have a Bluetones song for every mood, every event and every eventuality.

The Bluetones pop in and out of my life. It’s unfortunate that this happened at a time when they were very much in. I saw them in November and giggled and waved. I saw Mark Morriss on his own in January of this year. I met him and I was charmed. He was a lot taller than I thought he would be too.

I posted on Facebook that night that all I wanted to do was build a time machine and go back and tell my 16 year old self that I would meet a Bluetone one day. I’d never have believed me, but I’d have had a lot of fun winding me up about it.

All I can do is publicly say thank you and all the best for the future.  Oh, and see you in September!

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A Bit Down Under…

What a sad week.  I have had minimal personal trauma, and work is shit, but that is boring and not for this blog.  I have begun to realise how much I rely on the sunshine in Australia for my personal happiness.  I don’t go there on holiday (although I’m saving up…yay!), nor do I rely on their climate for my happiness.

No, this week the sunshine lives in Summer Bay and Erinsbourough were turned cloudy by the deaths of Belle Taylor and Bridget Parker respectively.  Their deaths by toxic wastedump and Neighbours Killerhorse (TM) respectively cast a cloud over Home and Away and Neighbours this week.   This made for a depressing hour on television every night and has left me under a cloud of melancholy.

I need to see tanned and lithe youngsters having hilarious japes and looking fabulous on the beach.  I need stories so ludicrous that you laugh out loud.  I need Toadie being the life and soul of the party despite having a life so filled with tragedy it’s worthy of a ‘Take A Break’ front page.  I need children with ages that change because it says so in the script.  I want young men shirtless for no apparent reason.  I’d even prefer Karl and Susan comedy sex storylines.

But no, with the lives of two young characters, my sunshine treat was taken from me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had both done it at once, but they did, and now I’m miserable.

Thanks Australia *sigh*

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Erm…

I’m not really sure how I want to go with this blogging business.  Do I go for a niche? If I was to go for a niche, what would it be? Telly? Music? Books? My very boring life?

Do I go all out and blog every minute detail of my life? As all-consuming my work and family life is at the moment, does the internet really need to know about it?

I often feel that I am repeating myself.  I’ll have a thought on twitter, and if it’s really good, I’ll put it on Facebook, and if it’s really sparkling and witty I may put it on a forum.  The problem is there are some people who follow me on Twitter, are members of said forum and are also my friends on Facebook.  Do they get me overkill?

Also, how often does one post on a blog? My brain, which likes to keep me entertained at night by whispering things that make absolutely no sense, tells me that I am not posting enough.  Then it tells me that there are not exactly hundreds of people on tenterhooks waiting for the next installment, are there?

I think for this blog post, I will talk about what I have been enjoying over the past few days…

Tellybox – Celebrity Four Weddings. Four Weddings was aceness on its own, but let’s face it, there’s nothing on telly that can’t be made more exciting by the addition of celebrities.  In this one it was some gay builder that I have never heard of, Nicola McLean (Vaccuuous page three model and former jungle inhabitant), Terry from East 17 (!) and Sandra Flipping Dickinson (!!!!ELEVEN)
The former two had magazine deals, and budgets of 100 and 200K respectively.  Terry “Plumber” Caldwell and the fabulous Miss Dickinson (marrying a hottie 20 years her junior) both had budgets of 15K.  I think you can guess which two weddings looked the most fun (clue, not the ones that had to pause for photo shoots).  Terry the plumber was permanently drunk and looked like the kind of guy you would enjoy a night with and Sandra was just Sandra (i.e. Amazing).  Nicola McLean proved to be the rudest person on the planet and won.

Books – Reading the Rebus series by Ian Rankin.  I’m on book eleven, having started from the beginning.  This is my 5th in the current run.  Nothing to say apart from that Rebus is the daddy.  Oh, and read the books.

Music – Revisiting Jamie T’s Panic Prevention in preparation for his new album, which I am slightly over excited about.  Well, not slightly…

Random thoughts…

How do Derren Brown’s partners cope with having a boyfriend that can read every nuance of their body language, knows what they are thinking and can detect every lie?
On Derren’s Lottery trick…How can a camera trick sustain an hour programme on Friday? There’s got to be more to it.
Exactly how wooden are the scenes between Sam and Peggy on Eastenders going to be?

I think I’ve expelled everything from my brain that I want to! I’ll decide what I want to do with this soon…

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Hi World!

I finally have a blog!  After umming and ahhing for ages about which one to go for, I decided on a WordPress.  I promise to put something interesting on here soon.  Honest.

Actually, I have doubts as to whether or not this will be interesting at all.  Not the most auspicious start to blogging, I know, but the desire to write actually is overcoming the desire to be interesting.  So, watch this space.  It could be amazing…

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