You've Got the Music in You (Don't let Go)

Just like the soundtrack to a film intensifies each scene, we each have our own soundtrack to our lives as unique as our fingerprints. The way we hear and interpret music is different for each of us, we will have attached different feelings to the same song. Music has the propensity to pull us away from the present back to the first time we heard it, or if it is heard for the first time now we unknowingly put a mental stake in the ground, at this point in time, which will be the anchor to which we'll return when we hear it years into the future.

What music I like, you may not. Our experiences, friends and families all influence and shape our musical tastes. Music is the soul's food. All cultures have a place for music. 

Dancing is innate in us all. We may not all think we have the skill for dancing, but rhythm is natural. Children will, uncoaxed, start bopping soon after they can toddle. I think we either unlearn our connection with rhythm, or our learnt insecurities become stronger and we stop dancing for fear that others can see us or that we're doing it wrong. But there is no wrong. Dancing is individual. It can be ethereal. It can be understated. It can be romantic. It can be wild, tribal, raw. But it can't be wrong.

So, what do our soundtracks say about us? Some songs replay our vulnerabilities, some our sense of injustice. Others echo of the times when we are bursting with happiness or aching in sorrow. 

So, what's my soundtrack? The trigger songs in my life will be powerful to my life, but only a murmur on yours.

I'll start at the beginning. The beginning is always a great place to start. 

The day I first drew breath, the UK number one was The Odyssey's "Use it Up and Wear it Out". I didn't know this. Just googled it. But it does make sense. I was born a week early. Which means I should have been born a week later when Abba's "Winner Takes it All" was number one. Well, that figures. I am not renowned for my luckiness. Of course I wasn't born in the "winners" week. Although, at least I can take solace in the fact that Calvin Harris, has, apparently, got love for me "cos I was born in the 80s".

I don't really remember any music as a child until quite a few songs come into my memory all at once. I'm not sure what was first as memories that young are kind of fuzzy and blurred round the edges. I remember Dr and the Medics "Spirit in the Sky" as one of the first songs, closely followed by the "Reet Petite" song by Jackie Wilson. I even remember the video for that with trumpets. 

Then a little later, I become aware of my parents music. Hence began my love for Billy Joel (my favourites are 'Vienna', 'The Longest Time' and 'The Stranger') and then the "Sad Songs" era of Elton John. Oh and the 'Betty and Al' song by Simon or Garfunkle not sure which but I think it wasn't them both. We later named our kittens Betty and Al, so the song was a favourite with us kids.

I didn't quite get the radio back then, wondering why mum couldn't put Radio Gaga back on. She'd say she didn't have it. Which confused me because I'd just heard it, so how could she not have it? Answer: it was on the radio.

Don't tell anyone, but my first album I bought (on tape) was Kylie Minogue's first album. I felt so proud owning my own music. Until I lost it. Or my sister hid it? Either way I found this album about a decade later behind the washing machine. Probably the best place for it.

My first CD, I am more proud of. It was 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. So cool, well done 13/14 year old me. My sister was a big influence on my musical tastes. Not all, but most of my early music was the same kind of music as hers. 

Then came Britpop. I was a big big indie fan. At 14 I used to save my £1 lunch money each day to save up till I could either afford a new album or tickets for a gig. I would then climb over the school fence at lunchtime and escape uptown to BeeBees music shop to get "something". Probably a 7" limited edition vinyl or something else I just had to have. My best friend and I were the only kids in class who were constantly being asked to remove our music badges from our ties. I slowly became the proud owner of quite a collection of band skinny tees, my favourite being my [sleeper] tee. I wanted to be Louise Wener of [sleeper]. She was just too cool.

This point in my life was all about Suede's 'Stay Together', [sleeper]'s 'What Do I Do Now?' and then of course, while we were away on our Geography exchange trip in Holland, I had Blind Melon's 'Change' and 'Holyman' as my constant background on my Walkman on all the day trips. 'Change' is the ultimate teenager song - feeling awkward in the present, feeling disapproval every which way you turn, then realising that you have a place in the future, so let's "write our words on the face of today" knowing that even that was only temporary, cos then "they'll paint it". Sometimes, I would throw in a little bit of The Offspring. Well, the 'Self Esteem' song in particular. The lyrics were a little bit too adult for me looking back, but I sang along to it all the same.

My gigging got more frequent as I took my A levels, and the V festival became a regular feature of my year. 

So, Alanis Morrissette's "Perfect" sums up how J, R and I were brought up. I'm not saying we were perfect, you need to listen to the lyrics to understand. The strange thing about childhoods is that we all think nothing of it, that nothing odd happened in ours. Until you to talk to other people. Yeah, then your childhood suddenly clarifies into crazy. 

My first year of uni saw me waking each morning, throwing open my halls of residence window, and listening to 'You've got the Music in You" by The New Radicals followed very closely by '1999' by Cassius. Second year was full of cheesy club music as my gay best friend dragged me round Londons gay clubs. Third year I lived in Brixton with The Brixton Academy just round the corner, at that point I didn't realise how many times I'd later catch the train in to London to trek back across the city to this exact spot. It's funny how quickly the familiar fades.

My twenties seemed to coast. Nothing particularly exciting music wise seemed to happen. Except for the shared love my sister J and I developed for a certain Mary J Blige. One song ruined me in particular. I was alone on a flight across the Atlantic, shortly after my Grandad had suddenly died, listening to the inflight radio when 'No More Drama' came on. And I cried for him. It's not even a song about family. It's about letting go of things that bring you pain and learning to count on yourself: "I don't know, only God knows where the story ends for me, but I know where the story begins, it's up to us to choose whether we win or lose - and I choose to win". Mary was also possibly the best live show I ever went to. Of course, J was right there with me.

Fast forward a little to the song that broke my heart, when we so very almost lost H. Music can be so powerful for years I simply could not cope with hearing Evanescence's "My Immortal". That song haunted me. It haunts me still. 

My invincible song is Razorlight's "Golden Touch" it's not the lyrics, it was about the moment. I was freer than I had ever felt, standing on my own, early morning with the whole of a Maldivian beach to myself, the Indian Ocean's beautiful expanse in front of me, complete serenity. Me, Razorlight, ocean, peace. Nothing. Else. Mattered.

I'm not a big fan of classical, but I am in love with "Air on the G String" by Bach. I play this song when it is a beautiful summers day and I'm on my own driving somewhere. It has to be loud. It has to be sunny. You also have to have the window open, your sunnies on and your hair down. And the view needs to be pretty. Rolling hills will suffice. With all these satisfied, I don't think any song can beat the rise I feel in my soul, in my being when the strings kick in. Oh, and did I mention you need to be driving fast?

Ok fast forward again, a seriously unhappy-in-my-job-me, actually quit my job because a (don't laugh now) Mika song told me "don't scream there are so many roads left, for there is nothing that we can't fix", well at least that's what I thought the lyrics were until just now when I youtubed it two minutes ago and found out that the actual words are "for there is nothing that we can do". Oh. My. Days. I quit my job on my misunderstanding on some Mika lyrics. Lol! What else can I say other than I was desperate. I actually prefer my version. It's stronger. And I left. And got a raa new job. Thank you Mika (kind of). Anyway, let's move on.

Ok, another sunny day one now. But this time you have to lay on your back on the grass, and close your eyes and concentrate on the heat of the sun on your eyelids. There has to be no one and nothing near you. Except perhaps a plane practicing loop-de-loops in the sky above. Then get headphones. This song needs to be in your head. It's the dreamiest song ever and transports me far far places. Nowhere in particular, just makes me feel like I'm floating. It is, of course, Goldfrapp's "Black Cherry". 

Fast forward time again, to Beyonce's "Halo", Amy McDonald's "Spark" and Mary J Blige's "Each Tear". Enough said.

The next few years which will bring us bang up to date could be filled with hundreds of songs. Too many to list. Each different. Each bringing me one step nearer to where I am today. 

Amongst them all, Labyrinth and Emili Sande's collaboration on "Beneath your Beautiful", Terrence Trent Derby's "Holding on to You", Rihanna's "We All Want Love", The Black Keys "The Only One" and Penny and the Quarters "You and Me" stand out as pure happiness.

I could write this post forever. I mean actually forever. I don't actually want to finish it. Music is so vitally important to how I feel and process thoughts it feels like I've just turned myself inside out in this blog. 

But I guess that's what a blog entitled "Internal Monologues..." should be all about. 

The Hungry Chunks - My Book Blog

I love to write. I love to read. For me 'Internal Monologues'  is to writing, what 'The Hungry Chunks'  is to reading.

About 'The Hungry Chunks'...

Books aren't meant to be read in tiny pigeon pecks. They should be devoured in enormous hungry chunks. Immerse. Imagine. Fall. Consume. Books are written to be read. Authors write for you. So read. I'm working through my library of classics and moderns and a few randoms one book at a time... But always in great hungry chunks...

They are my bite sized reviews and I can't promise no spoilers....

Follow me to read along

The Hungry Chunks

Helpful hints for Pilots

Dear Mr Pilot. 

Now I know I am no expert, as I have not gone to pilot school, but I feel I must discuss some of my recent thoughts with you. These are no flashes of genius inspiration. These are just general 'handy hints' at what I think you may consider for your next 'conversational' pep talk with your (captive at 13,000 feet, half way to our destination) passengers. 

General socially acceptable topics at this point in a substantially turbulent flight could include:

1) "Here at Malaysia Airlines we hope you have enjoyed your time at Langkawi Island and on behalf of myself and the cabin crew, we thank you for travelling with Malaysia Airlines. We wish you a save onwards journey". This is nice - it acknowledges they have taken care to understand where we have been and that we have chosen them, above other airlines, to select as our flight provider. Sweet and to the point.

Or....

2) "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Our current altitude is 13,000 feet, local time at destination is 14:45 and temperature is 32°". This gives us useful information about what we can expect on arrival. It's raaa hot everyone please be prepared to get hot on exiting the plane. This one is also deemed 'appropriate'.

Another favourite:

3) "Take the time to look through the great in-flight deals in your 'Going Places' magazine found in the seat pocket" - this one is not so useful for me, I don't buy duty free on the plane, however there must be people who inexplicably forget to buy their duty free in the hours before the flight when everyone is caged up in the repeating selections of cigarettes, alcohol, chocolates and perfume. That's all they sell in airports. "Do you have chewing gum?" - "No, but you can have 400 cigarettes, and litres of 40% proof booze". 

Anyway, in addition to the above, the pilot may talk about other random NICE stuff. That would be ok too.

However, our pilot, decided to go for a phrase that I, personally, wouldn't necessarily choose to blurt out, during turbulence, after a prolonged period of silence. So, Mr Pilot, if you want calm, secure, happy passengers my advice is that the following sentence is NEVER uttered at random, during turbulence, nowhere near land:

"If an emergency landing becomes necessary please leave the aircraft immediately via the emergency doors and do not stop for your baggage"!

"Huh?"

The outwardly cool, inwardly cowardly flyer in me just heard: "Emergency landing.... Necessary.... Immediately....  Emergency doors". 

Not good Mr Pilot, not good. 

I'm calm now, writing this on the second flight of the day, at 13,000 feet. Think this pilot is more on my wavelength. Silence is good. No news is good news as 'they' say.

Just something for you to think about Mr Pilot.

Yours Sincerely,

Passenger X (seat 14A)

Roger? Over and out.

On the Wings of a Butterfly

This is a first, I am actually travel blogging. Does that make this a travel blog? A 'tralog'? Have I created a new genre of travel writing? "Excuse me, hello, I am a tralogger"? Does that work? 

Anyway, you may have guessed, but I am writing this post on the move. Specifically, I am on the train from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore. I am currently 'off the grid'. I have no wifi, I have no mobile signal. I'll upload this once I find wifi to hook up to in Singapore. But for now I am gliding along, like the butterfly I am naming this tralog post after. 

The butterfly is long gone, and if butterflies have the capacity to remember, it will have forgotten me by now. I saw my butterfly (I think I can claim it - I wasn't on a butterfly farm where butterfly ownership is more clearly defined, I was on Raya Island and the butterfly in question was soaring freely) (well, at least it was until I claimed it as my own just now) (I hope it doesn't suddenly feel the weight of my shackles upon its wings and crash down to the ground because that would ruin the whole reason for why I noticed this particular butterfly). 

Anyway, I will continue. This butterfly, my butterfly, soared. I have seen butterflies before, of course I have, but they have always been fluttering, always beating their wings frantically against the unrelenting downwards force of gravity. This butterfly (my butterfly) did the usual wing beating thing to gain height and then coasted on the air like a bird. It was incredible. I've never seen a butterfly coast. It wasn't an accident. My butterfly didn't accidentally forget to fly because it was busy deep in thought about its butterfly wife and butterfly (caterpillar?) children and butterfly job and butterfly mortgage. It purposely, consciously, stopped flying and soared for a prolonged period. Then after a while renewed the beating of his wings (I have decided my butterfly is a man butterfly. If I am wrong I shall apologise next time I see her) to gain new heights only to resume the soaring once more. 

It was pure serenity. Pure beauty. Pure nature. I felt freer just by witnessing its freedom.

Perhaps it was on butterfly holiday and taking a break from the nine-to-five wing beating rat race. "I'm on annual leave. I beat my wings for a living I'll be damned if I'm gonna beat them when I'm off the clock. All these people, expecting me to fly all the time. If they've got a problem with it they should stand on the shoulders of giants rather than coast on the wings of a butterfly".

The Fine Art of Procrastination

I recently bestowed upon myself an honourary Fellowship to the Institute of Procrastinators. I am not normally one to advertise my own achievements, but, in this instance, it is unmistakable. I am possibly the world's best, most proficient procrastinator. Lend me your ears and a little of your time and I will explain....

I recently took an exam. An exam I had been booked to take for over a year. Of course, as soon as I received my joining instructions I prepared a study plan, diligently read through course material well in advance, highlighted key statements, tagged important pages, condensed my notes, produced flash cards and practiced past papers until I could answer questions in my sleep.

I did all of this.

In. My. Mind.

Unfortunately, and reasonably foreseeable given my past performance in situations such as this, reality got in the way. This is what happened in REAL life....

1) I booked onto the course and within a week I received all of my course materials.
2) One. Whole. Year. Passed.
3) I had one week left until my exam. Yes, my professional exam. The exam that professional people take.
4) The realisation of the need to revise dawned on me.
5) Panic set in.
6) The fine art of procrastinating began.

This is how real people revise, and this forms the basics of the professional procrastinators handbook...

1) You will need a funky folder, bright pens, pretty dividers and coloured paper clips. Without these you cannot start. No knowledge can be retained until these items are obtained. So, first, you need to go stationery shopping. I don't mean at Tesco. Tesco stationery will not do. Paperchase stationery is a minimum standard.
2) Most of the hard work is now done so at this point you will need to take a break to reward yourself for preparing to prepare to start.
3) It is scientifically proven that your brain cannot retain any new information if your house is not spotless therefore the best use of your time right now will be to clean all rooms in the house. Possibly twice. Yes, twice is best, that will definitely increase your performance in the exam. If you find you do not have enough dusters or detergent or sponges, then you will need to go shopping. Again.
4) Once your house is spotless you will be tired. And everyone knows you cannot learn anything if you're tired so you'll either need a nap right about now or you should just unwind in front of the telly.
5) Oh, the garden. Don't forget the garden! Don't forget that well known saying... you know "never was an exam passed whilst the garden lay in want of a mow"... or something similar. I think it may be a Chinese proverb. Just in case it is true you had better mow the lawn. Just in case.
6) You should now congratulate yourself. You have made considerable progress to almost starting revision at this point. It wont be long before you are ready to pick up the book. Seriously, take time to marvel in your success.
7) All that self congratulations is hungry work. Time for a little sustainance.
8) If it is sunny outside revision is always just that little bit easier if it is drenched with sunshine. But before you can go out into your garden in the sunshine you need to get that beach body. So time should be valuably spent primping and preening. You will need to wash, dry and straighten your hair. While you're at it, you may as well paint your finger nails and toe nails too. If something is worth doing it's worth doing properly. Oh and if you're out in the sun you'll need suntan lotion. This may require another trip to the shops.
9) You are almost there. Almost ready to start. It may start raining now and you'll have to abandon revision as you can't revise outside in the rain. That would just be silly now.
10) It is probably nearing the end of the day now. You should begin to feel weary. All this almost revising stuff is draining work. You should probably get some sleep ready for some more 'almost revising' tomorrow.

The days will vanish and suddenly there will be just four days between zero knowledge and the day when you need to know everything.

It is now inevitable that those four days and nights will become a blur of books, acronyms, memory aids, coffee, reciting, reproducing models, reciting definitions and more coffee, coffee, coffee.

The smart side of your brain will now be berating the dumb side of your brain with clever taunts like "if you'd just started revising earlier you wouldn't be in this position". Marvelous. Amazingly helpful Mr Smartside. Where were you earlier in the week huh Smartside? Didn't hear you piping up when we were in Paperchase buying stationery.

Tell you what Smartside... when we get in the exam you go ahead without us and make a start. Me and Dumbside will spend the first hour of the exam perfecting our finely honed fine art of procrastination.

Till it Happens to You / Pay it Forward

How was your day today? Successful day at work? Met the deadline, pleased the boss, left on time? Home for tea, quality time with the family, telly, bubble bath, bed? Tomorrow, after the earth has spun around one more time, and the sun has set and rose once more, you will follow a similar dance, which you will repeat with slight variations each day. Something different for lunch. Off site meeting perhaps? Food shopping. Early night. And the funny thing is that you will not even think about it.

But, wait a second. Rewind. What if things were not so simple? What if the little things we take for granted suddenly disappeared? Energy. Health. Hope. Normal everyday life.

The reality is that in those days or weeks in which your world, and the worlds of those closest to you, slow down, every day suddenly full of uncertainty, new medical words and different routines, your former life goes on without you, oblivious to the troubles of others. Because, you see, your eyes are closed to situations such as these. That is, till it happens to you.

So, that is what this post is about. This post is for my colleague who is fighting a very brave fight against the cancer at home. It is for my very good friend who lost someone dear recently. It is for all of those who bring love, light and hope to those who are in so very urgent need of it.

Those of you who are following my posts will know that when I was eight my younger sister was born with a disability. As a family it threw us. We had not had any exposure to disability previously in our life. She, and the situation we found ourselves in, didn't come with a 'your life has just changed forever' manual. We didn't, and still don't, have a diagnosis for her. It makes a difficult time so much lonelier when you do not even have a reason or a prognosis. No other families to talk to about how they coped. No support groups. No charities fighting her corner. She was "undiagnosed". And we thought the end of our world had come early.

Then, we put the feelers out and quietly asked the 'I wonder if there are any other families going through the exact same thing?' question. We were not prepared for the response. There were hundreds of families just like us. We founded the Undiagnosed Children's Group and were soon overwhelmed with parents from all over the UK needing the exact same thing as us. Someone who understood. Someone who knew how we felt. Someone who understood the two repetitive, unbearable, questions that kept ringing in our heads and hung over our family - 'What is wrong with her? Will she die?'.

When you hit a difficult time in your life, and you feel that there is no-one who understands just how lost you feel when you are suddenly thrown off your map of life into uncharted territory there is only one thing for it. You make your own map. You get big, fat, bright, colourful crayons and draw new roads and rainbows and sunshine and bunnies. Uncertainty means you are not certain. It doesn't mean you cannot be positive. So be positive. Positivity is more than half the battle. Make plans. Dream. Be. And when you find your new path, remember there are others who are still lost and pay it forward. Pick someone else up along the way, show them how to cope and find their feet. Remind them of their strength and the necessity of believing that there is better to come.

I really struggled to name this post. So it is dual titled. I am not normally an indecisive girl. I think part of my trouble is that in writing, I wanted to achieve two separate distinct goals. One was for each reader to cherish the health and happiness they have and don't dwell on the little things in life - the missed deadline, the spilt milk. Life is bigger than that. The second was to ask a little favour. If you are in the position to do something extra to bring a little light to another's life, whether this be to volunteer time, make a donation, write an article to raise awareness or just to be there when someone is brave enough to say 'Hey, I need a little help here', then please make a commitment to pay it forward. Whether it be this week, next week, in a month or this year. Even the tinsiest gesture will resonate and make someone's day just that little bit easier.

So, I realise I cannot legitimately ask you to pay it forward if I do not also take part. My pay it forward gesture for today is in this last part of my post. I was recently contacted by a lady raising awareness for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance. She believes in the positive effect of planning for the future, no matter what the present throws at us. She asked for my ideas of how to raise awareness, and my little kooky response was in suggesting this pay it forward idea. Cancer touches all of our lives, whether directly or indirectly, so awareness is key. Her charity is the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance and their blog is available here: http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/ and her post 'Power of the Pen' is copied below.

One last thing... if you do 'pay it forward' please leave a little comment on the bottom of this post. It would be lovely to know if this works

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Write. Set. Go!
 Life is meant to mold our character and test what we're made of. The times during which we grow the most are the times that test our strength and challenge us. Serious illnesses, ranging from autoimmune disorders like multiple sclerosis to rare diseases like mesothelioma cancer, can challenge us more than any other struggle in our lives. However, we can overcome. Every day we overcome. And we give each other strength when we write the words of our stories. We inspire everyone around us when we share our stories. But what we may not realize is how much writing the words of our stories inspires us and encourages us to seek all that life has to offer despite our difficulties, life challenges, or stated mesothelioma prognosis from the previous example.
As we dream of all the things we want to accomplish in our lives, many times we keep all our thoughts and desires to ourselves, much like the emotions and experiences we have during an illness. But if we were to take our thoughts and put them onto paper or blog them, we would be creating something outside ourselves that is uniquely ours and yet shares a part of us with the world. Writing down our experiences helps us work through them. Writing through all the emotions and through our journey, we come to see how much we have and that we have much to do in our lives. We can write down the desires and goals we want to accomplish. By writing them down we give life to them and we hold ourselves more accountable to accomplish them.
 Personally, I maintain seasonal goals. These seem to be the easiest for me to achieve.  In essence, they are short enough for instant gratification and inspiration but also giving me something to look forward to in the near future.
“What do I want to accomplish this fall?”
“What are my must-do’s this summer?”
Be passionate about your outlook and effort in becoming proactive. Don’t allow yourself to become overwhelmed and defeated by challenges—let them mold you and drive you to push into areas of your life that you never imagined going. Set yourself on the right path to wellness and stability.
Everyone is different. Everyone knows themselves and how they commit to task and goals. Do try to go above and beyond if you are not ready to push yourself that hard—you may find it discouraging and give up all together. Some goals and accomplishments may be small and simple and for the small moment that we are striving to endure. By writing about our own bucket list, resolutions, goals or desires, we can actually inspire ourselves and motivate ourselves to accomplish what we set out to do.  By writing our goals down we give ourselves more tangible and visual reminders of our dreams and wishes.
Transcending Chronic Illness, continues to describe the healing powers of writing your story. The article describes how writing our story can clear our minds and lift our spirits. Whether on a blog or in a notebook, whether short or long, whether we use fancy or simple language, we all have the power of our words. That power speaks to others and it speaks to us. It can motivate and inspire us to accomplish all the things we wish to do in our lives.  Our words can heal, motivate, and help us live happy lives.

Who knew that inspiration simply lived within us? In writing about my thoughts and emotional tires to actually “writing” I am sharing that inspiration with you all as readers. Take the time to devote to organizing your thoughts and see the difference within your life take place for the better

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The Importance of Being [Insert Your Name Here]

In a world where popular culture defines what is attractive, what is trending, what we should all aspire to, how we should behave, react, eat, sleep and dream, there doesn't seem to be much appreciation for the beauty of individuality. The snowflake holds more intrigue for me than a mass produced diamond solitaire. A fingerprint similarly so than a cashmere jumper.

Have you ever looked at someone so closely that you see past the general colour of their eyes to see the amazing patterns embossed on their iris, each fleck of colour visible in the refracting light. Look intently enough and at times it feels like I can see a whole miniature universe in the depths of their iris. The most unique eyes I ever saw belonged to a teacher at my primary school. She had speckled eyes. That is not me being cleverly descriptive, she literally had brown eyes with white dots. I was only young when I saw them and I have never forgotten, nor seen any eyes like them, since. Some people may have found them odd. I, my little eight-year-old self, marvelled at them.

I saw a TV programme this week entitled 'bums, boobs and botox'. The hospital was more of a factory, churning out people who all look the same, ordinary people changing their own (normal, natural) faces and bodies into Barbie/Ken mark II.

Everybody seems to want to look the same, act the same, sound the same and own the same belongings. I deliberately avoid the reality TV artificially produced all-sounds-the-same music that year after year drowns our TV screens and radios. I love it when genuine talent bands who have struggled against the odds of the fame-game burst into stars with something completely different, original and, well, real.

I am proud to say I have never watched any of the 'I'm a forgotten celebrity if I got lost in this jungle no-one would notice' (or like) programmes. I'd prefer to spend my evening writing. I love it. I think it is the notion of using the same vocabulary that everybody else uses, yet feeling a strange pleasure knowing that now is the first time ever that they have been arranged in this order, with this punctuation, creating this meaning. In these few minutes whilst I write this post, they are my words and I can do with them what I will. And so I shall.

With everybody telling you what you should think, feel and be, it takes the braver person to say 'actually... not for me... I dont think, feel or work like that'.

As for me... I love my two birthmarks (I think them pretty not defects). I can't wait for summer to come for the inevitable little freckles that will appear on my nose, across my cheeks and dusting my shoulders. I enjoy the fact that my on-first-impressions boring grey-blue eyes colour change to electric blue the instant I get upset. I like for others to see my expressions (not hiding my face behind big dark sunglasses). I dance about when getting ready for work. I sing in my car (I don't care if someone sees me). I name my plants. I speak my mind (if I censor myself I am not being true to me or you). I ask the awkward questions (I want to know about you too). I have designed my own tattoo (just need a little courage to have it done). I love being the first to walk in snow and look back at my footprints. I love it even more when my niece runs past me and adds her tiny welly prints to mine. I dislike my shadow. That last one is a bit weird, I know... but true. Haha, deal with it.

I find the little 'imperfections' in people endearing... A slightly wonky tooth is cute. Someone who cant control their blushes is adorable. A truthful word spoken is attractive. Someone who is naturally poetic, internally reflective and thoughtful will win my affections quicker than someone rehearsing a contrived practiced speech.

I think in my own little way (I got called kooky recently) (I liked it). I know I am different. I like being so.

I am just me, and it is important that I be so.