Lord of the Manor

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Some people just walk into a room, house, life, and make it their own. I used to do that. I don’t know why that ever stopped. I guess the human condition of shame and embarrassment infected me. I’ve decided to learn from the budster. To take everyday and situation as it comes. And to feel entitled to sprawl across the sofas of the world as if they were made for me to lord it up on.
Oooow exciting times ahead!

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Walk a day in my shoes

Could you really? We all like to think we can empathize and sympathize with our fellow man (I do not do political correctness) but do we really even try past politeness sake? Are we sure we don’t gloss over and nod and apologise?
I have had a pretty shitty last year in particular. I say shitty as it hasn’t left me fighting for my life, I have not had to deal with the loss of a friend or relative (thank you god) I am still with a roof over my head. So am I about to commit a first world problems offence? Let’s see.
I like to think that I am pretty self aware. I feel like I have always tried to dredge up real empathy for those sharing something distressing or personal. But after the last few months of trials life has served me over the net, and my less and less ability to hit the solutions back, I have begun to re-think and reassess.
Have I glossed over and made someone else feel like their issue was just a irritation to my timetable?
I definitely feel like I have committed the offense of being An inconvenience on their walk from the station, forcing them to will their house was a different direction from the station to mine?
I was broken into several years back and it took me a good long while to get over it. Actually let’s go back even further, I was once taking a very lame typical tourist shot of the arc de ‘ triumph with my mum trying not to smile in front of it, when a blur of dirt and leather flew inches from my face swiping the shiny silver cyber shot from my fingers. My last years birthday present. To all those of the younger generation that is a camera. One separate from a phone. A stand alone camera.

I stupidly with one thought in my head started to chase the blur. My thought being that I had for once actually taken pictures at one of my ice skating shows and was not about to lose the images that I wouldn’t be able to get back. So I’m running through streets of Barcelona that I don’t know at all after this a-hole. Letting him weave me deeper into the alleyways of local neighbour hoods. People standing in doorsteps just watch as I yell asking them to “STOP HIM” or Please help me”. selfishly not even thinking about where my mother was or her fear for my saftey.

Thankful to my mothers encouragement of my ice skating and a ferocious Scottish woman called Margarita(my coach) I had fitness endurance and so managed to keep running till the morrocan tea leaf got exhausted. we ended up in an opening where building works had started but were now abandoned. I had got a hold of his jacket and asked him for my camera. I even tried to punch him. I may have given him a dead arm but he managed with his other arm to punch me. It made me flinch and let go of his jacket. I couldn’t see my camera and felt like it had all been pointless. Then suddenly my Mother appeared. She looked shaken but still she forcefully asked for the camera but the nasty piece instead picked up a brick and threw it at us just as 3 police officers came round the corner. Apparently whilst I was out jogging for 15mins with the sheisse a man had tried to assist my mum, he succeeded and managed to get police officers to boot! How they found me I don’t know, although I did realise we hadn’t actually traveled that far as on the run we past a fat man who just watched from his door way offering no assistance what so ever, not even a foot to trip up my running companion. I saw him 3 times, so really we were just doing circles.

Anyways, after the brick throw and the arrival of the police, my jogging partner tried to run off but this time his marathon was cut short. The police dragged him back to where we were less than 30 seconds later. All got sorted. Ive got kind of off track haven’t i?

So anyway, the Barcelona marathon incident meant I was a pain to go away with. Actually not just when away, I became very conscious of everyone around me. Suspicious of everyone around me. On the tube, in a sop, in a restaurant, I became so insistent on knowing and checking where mine and whoever I was with’s belongings were. My poor ex-boyfriend managed not to throttle me when I made him check certain items for like the 100th time. Then when the house got burgled I started hating leaving the house unattended.

Now that was over 8 years ago but it was only last year that I started to not worry about leaving the radio on, or lights in case we didn’t get back before it got dark. Stopped hiding my jewelry away and had it on my dresser. So of course, like a lesson, we got broken into again. This time it was even worse. We came home to someone locking the door from the inside. The cheeky ducker then went back upstairs and proceeded to steal several favored possessions. Thank god for my Marine, who free ran over the fence and broke into the house giving the little sheisse less time than he had wanted and he only cleared out our  bedroom.

Ive heard the Chinese say being stolen from is to save you from a worse fate. I used to cling onto that. Now I’m just scared, scarred and angry. I have tried to empathise with the image of the burglar. but the consistent sleepkess night I know have, still waking with every creak in the house. Lying there for an hr trying not to breath to make sure that creak wasn’t a nasty skanky tea leaf. Going to auditions looking like a bag of doodoo thanks to this banker which means I am not at my best to win the ever enduring competition of auditioning.

Does that mean I am not really that self aware or empathetic or did it just get all used up. I didn’t choose to take drugs, I didn’t choose to leave home. I may not have liked everything all of the time but I listened to my parents, I respected their words of advice and I am where I am. Just because you may not be where you want to be or are jealous of other people having more than you does not mean its ok to make it their problem. This year we have had our number plates stolen twice, a log placed by our back wheels with the aim of making us damage our wheels. People have been taking phone contracts and insurances out in my name(how kind of them).

I know these are superficial issues and I am incredibly grateful for our health. For my close family member to have fought cancer, for one of our friends to have survived losing three limbs and to have taken life by the horns and built his house and had 2 fathered two children. I guess its because of those serious issues that I am unable to empathise with the low life shits of this world.

To Digital Perm or not to…

Whatta to do, whatta ta do! I am Miss Scaredy cat, Miss Cautious, Miss not very good with change but trying to be. I have also hit a mile stone of responsibility, which if you follow my blog you will have seen I got a Buddy. A Chorkie to be precise. It was either that or a tattoo or a perm. I am still thinking about a tattoo but I cannot decide where or what. Picking a dog was easier, my heart chose for me. A tattoo unfortunately is a conscious decision. Well maybe not for the inebriated but it is for me.

Now what should be even simpler as its not permanent, its not life threatening, its not even really a big deal but deciding whether to get a perm or not seems like a big deal to me. Is that because I don’t have enough in my life to worry about I hear you murmur. Its a ridiculous first word problem and quit your nattering I hear from the other corner but still in my head this is a big deal.

Why do we (or is it just me?) make a mountain out of the mole hill that is a superficial decision. Is is that the superficial is the one thing that gets you through the day? Is it my only Armour against the rest of the world. Do I doubt my own knowledge and intelligence to get me through a battle that may commence getting through a tube journey? Or holding my place in a queue?

I’m not sure. I do think my time working in pubs, whilst blonde, enhanced my ability and habit of being able to hide any smartness behind the bleach. Its not a folk tale but people really do allow you to make more mistakes and be a bit dozey when your of the fairer haired variety. Natural or not. Its as if they don’t expect as much. I also definitely got a lot more freebies when I was blonde. I sometimes think that, I even started to believe I was dithery and a bit stupid. So when I went brunette and didn’t even get the wolf whistles of Builders, and got barged when getting out of the tube doors, I really did have to start refilling my tanks of gumption. Start engaging the brain, being quicker with delivering my wit and being more savvy when it came to buying things. Ultimately I was saving on paying someone to destroy my hair monthly, but was that what was destroying my life. I didn’t land as many commercials. every time I was down to the last two and didnt get it, I would see the final product and there smiling driving the VW, or holding the Yogurt pot was a bright blonde with a smug smile.

So maybe I am not just so incredibly vain when it comes to a ‘simple’ superficial decision of changing my hair, when it so fundamentally changed last time I did something so drastic.

Lets see.

Bring back a paper and pen!

Ok so I’m sure you can guess where this was born out of. I lost a whole load of files. Bits and pieces I had been slaving away on, notes I had taken the precious seconds to take down when I was struck by platinum dust ideas.
I know it’s a first world problem and then when I remind myself how fortunate I am, I remember that actually not using a paper and pen is saving the environment. However much change pains me (childishly) like the loss of cassette tapes which initially meant I rejected CDs and now being the perverse PITB that I am, I miss the CD! The floppy discs, Atari joysticks, especially books. I know they are all available but even with my prejudice even I can see the benefit of space, tidiness and access that tablets, phones and storage clouds provide. Urgh can’t believe I actually typed that! Traitor to myself! ( I think the split personalities are coming out today, wheel of death frustration calls them forth)
Anyway trying to come back on track, I think what not writing on paper really symbolizes or upsets me the most is the gradual loss of…of what’s the word! it’s not stability! not consistency…it has to do with trust! I think durability is what I mean. I feel the sense of making things(can openers, washing machines, stereos), owning things(countries, children, phones), being a part of things, careers and relationships is not seen as the real deal, not something to put all your eggs into. Is the next generation going to be too scared to make a real commitment?

Hmmm or on self reflection are they making a better existence and I’m just a fuddy duddy (is that ie instead of y?)(surely I should not be lazy and current and google it for myself).

I guess I am trying to work that out and what my take on it all is.

Red or Dead?

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Decisions, decisions! How ridiculous but true. The choice to lipstick or not lipstick can be the make or break for whether you are the right candidate for the job. A lot of ‘creatives’ believe it or not can’t see past the vision they have in their head. They can’t see that if your wearing red lip stick and they imagined their heroine in nude pink that you could simply take a single sheet of loo roll and wipe it off! Today I felt the need for some colouring in and despite the brief went “duck it, I’m going to face the world how I see fit today”!
Let’s see how it goes!

Urm Mr Branson could i…?

What to say when you have nothing to say. Strike that, reverse. When you have everything to say. And for once…all pretty positive. As I think (and by ‘think’ i mean I am not in the frame of mind to go back and check myself or i will reck myself)I mentioned previously that Buddy, the wonder dog, often mistaken for a guinea pig, loved by all that meet him, small enough to have to have a hamster needle for his injections, the love of my life, job upstaging puppy is our good luck charm.  Is it because now, nothing offends or bothers me as his love and wagging tail keeps a smile on my face? Or is it that I/we just haven’t had shit delivered to our doorstep since his arrival. Luck, fate, coincidence (that joincidence with a J) who knows. Which ever it is I’m thankful for the fun, love and laughter that has been filling my head and ear space since his unexpected/unplanned entrance.

Buddy boy joined me on my job this weekend and ended up stealing the limelight! Not that it was unexpected, he does do so wherever he goes. I have had 5 strangers come up and randomly ask me if they could take his picture. Another tell me I should charge for the pictures, 25 people ask to stroke him and over 100 people pull an arrhh face when they walk past. I am not going to lie, apart from the delay to my timetable, i love it. I love the fact I picked an awesome dog. The biggest bonus is the fact that I have dog sitters in place for the next 10 years! The sad fact is that I think I will have more of a problem leaving Buddy than I thought. I never thought I would turn down the carribean but its looking like a possibility. That is unless Richard Branson will let me take the Budster on board.

Ah anyways, get a Dog. It makes life awesome. Remember a puppy is hard work but if you put the time in it is sooooooooo worth it!

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