Beautiful Music

I've just received a message from Dan with a link to the Cocteau Twins song Pur in it, so I shall embed it here for all to see...although it is with subtitles because it's impossible to hear what she's singing about. This is very much like listening to poetry - ignore what the words actually mean and just listen to the sounds her voice make - the words are pretty poor sadly but Elizabeth Fraser's voice is sublime. Interestingly according to her Wiki entry she suffered a nervous breakdown during the production of the album Four Calendar Cafe on which Pur appears. I guess that goes to prove that behind most great talents there hides a sadness and so often that sadness is some sort of mental illness. That said I'm sure there are plenty of talent people out there who are not the tortured genius, but that doesn't fit into our Victorian view of the artist.

Anyway, I'm rambling again...

Pur



And while I'm at it have some Sigur Ros - this band seem like the natural successors to the Cocteau Twins and even better when it comes to their videos. This one, Glosoli, is a beautiful film aside from the music.

Glosoli



I suppose I really ought to finish this off with a bit of Portishead, but it *is* still early (ish) and as much as I love Portishead they can be a bit depressing...beautiful, but depressing. I get the feeling that were I to be a teenager now I would probably be wearing far too much black make up and long black clothes.

Roo, if you're reading this no comments on our teenage years thanks!

Stuff and Nonsense

I'm not sure what to write about today but I have the itch to write. I think since finishing off the first draft of the novel I've not wanted to even attempt to write in any form at all. I've just about managed to reply to peoples' emails and that's been pretty much it for me. Now however the need is returning and it *is* a need - as tangible as hunger or thirst. You know how some days you're just desperate to get outside and take a huge deep lungful of fresh air because sitting inside feels like being underwater - suffocating, slow moving, turgid. That's how I feel about writing some of the time. Other times I have an idea I need to express fully and often I can only properly think in the written word - I need to see it in front of me - hearing it out loud just isn't enough, it needs to be set down, fixed, pinned down like a poor pathetic dissected frog in a biology lesson so I can understand precisely what it is.

I'm sure I've referenced this before, but recently I've been listening to a great deal of music I discovered when I was in my teens. I received a beautiful iPod for Christmas and now once again my head is full of the Cocteau Twins and the odd smattering of Japan amongst the contemporary stuff. It seems to me that regardless of what form it takes I'm a huge lover of beauty.

I also suspect that at the moment I'm rambling....

I'd really like to post some audio here too - ideally Pur by the Cocteau Twins or Nightporter by Japan, but sadly Pur isn't to be found on any of the usual sites that will allow linking *sigh*
If you get the chance do listen to these two lovely songs.

YES, I'VE DECIDED TO CHANGE HOW IT LOOKS!

As the New Year is approaching and I'll have been keeping this blog for a whole year, I fancied a change.

Hope you like it.

Festive Fitness

There are many, many things I want to put down in my blog at the moment so I anticipate a flurry of postings...I hope.
For now I'll just stick with what's at the front of my mind - most recent events. Sorry to say it's not something deeply interesting, no scandal or anything like that...rather about the state of my current fitness...

Those of you who know me in the real world will know that the last year or so has seen me return to who I was a long time ago.
Hang on.

*Tangent alert*

Aren't we always who we were, or who we are? Why does this happen? I seem to do this a lot - I'm my own person, independent, free-spirited, strong-willed and then I get involved with a man and over time the very person I was becomes the person that maybe he wanted, or not, but anyway, not 'me' anymore. Generally this coincides with me losing confidence, putting on weight and generally losing my way and losing me. The result is that I end the relationship, lose weight and find me again. I've done this all my life it seems. Perhaps now that I'm in my late thirties I just might be able to hang onto myself and not lose it again in the face of a relationship.

I always feel that I return to myself but is it 'me', the Old Me, or is it, as I suspect, a New Improved Me. I hope so because if by evolving my personality and in effect 'growing' (bit too new agey and touchy feely for me I suspect)then maybe I can be just like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day and eventually beat the constant round of self-fulfilling prophesies or maybe that's destinies....

Anyway, back to the original idea for this post....


So, my general fitness has pretty much returned to what it was some years ago. Oh god, it feels like years ago that I used to go to aerobics classes twice a week (actually, can you still go to aerobics classes? Or have they been superseded by Spinning classes or Boxercise or something else more fashionable?). I think I was doing aerobics twice a week (and clubbing all weekend) about fifteen years ago, so it was years ago. And around eleven years ago I used to cycle for miles - in fact I used to cycle over to a friend's parents' house some 6 or 7 miles away from me and then swim for a few hours (yes, that's why we went to the parents' house, POOL!). And I took part in a charity bike ride - borrowed a friend's road bike and was amazed at how fast and light it was compared to my lumpy ATB - thin tires are lovely when you're zipping down a main road.

Well, I've just come back from a very short bike ride - I've just checked it out on Google Maps and discovered I cycled the long distance of TWO whole British miles! To be fair to myself (read *excuse*) my bike does need more air in the tyres and it's a rather hilly so that's why I didn't go too far.

Okay, the real reason?

I got one mile up the road and thought I was going to be sick - I think the mint chocolates I ate before I left the house might have had something to do with it. So I turned around and came back - the return journey was no problem - all gently downhill except one short steep bit.

Now I climb maybe four times a week and have done pretty much since June, about three hours at a go. I do yoga regularly, I think nothing of taking long walks - about eight miles would be a fair sized one. So why on earth did a mile long cycle ride nearly kill me?

Why?

Because I'm unfit and I've eaten too much chocolate over the last couple of days.

Ah well, never mind, that's the festive season for you.

Now I'm going to take a shower, have a glass or two of mulled wine, some lovely baked ham, sausage rolls and maybe a slice of Christmas cake AND chocolate yule log.

To hell with diets, I'll simply get back on the bike again tomorrow and try to kill myself again.

Oh! And another thing

I didn't really finish that post below...but rather than edit it and make it possibly nonsensical, I shall make a new post nonsensical.


My point was, is...that all too often we lie to ourselves. We say we just want casual, we don't want to be owned, we don't want involvement. Yet when those things are taken out of our grasp we want them.

Maybe we do want to have our cake and eat it too...but the real problem with that is that if we try playing fast and loose with our feelings and those of others we can very soon end up with no cake at all.

I think Tanya's 'friend' was afraid of missing out on finding The One, which was why he wanted to constantly play the field. The problem with that is that The One, in my opinion, doesn't have flashing lights above their head...sometimes The One is right in front of you. Whether Tanya was The One for him, or he was The One for her is a matter for them to consider...but personally I'd leave game playing for the professional sportsmen.

Passwords, statistics and lies we tell ourselves

I have just spent a frustrating morning trying to recover my password for this blog. I was almost tempted to just jack it in and start a new one...telling some of you where I'd gone, of course. Anyway, suffice to say all is now well, I sorted it out and I'm back.

The last few days have seen the reappearance of Tanya into my life...some of you may remember my hapless friend who seems constantly dogged by men and relationship problems. She sorted out the miserable man who wanted to dominate her life - they ended up in a make or break situation...it broke. So now she's onto pastures new, but thing don't seem to have improved any. I'm very fortunate to have a friend like Tanya as she always provides me with something to write about...my very own Bunbury you could say....

Her experiences have got me thinking about the nature of truth.

Yes, very deep this one.

Why do we all tell ourselves lies? Or maybe it's just that we tell those around us the lies and are surprised when they believe them. Case in point - Tanya's most recent escapade - she has had a long running intense friendship, yes, they've ended up as bed partners on more than one occasion, but both refuse to accept that they're anything more than friends.
He continues to see a long list of other women, some of whom know about the others, some who do not. She accepted his 'philandering' as she kept stating she didn't want anything more than just a casual friendship.
All went along reasonably happily until she met someone else who, potentially, she could have a relationship with....He is now unhappy...yet says he's very pleased for her, admits he's a little jealous, but still happy.

Who is lying to themselves here?

My experience of this type of romantic wrangling is non-existent. All I can draw on for similar situations is the usual stuff seen in romantic comedy films like When Harry Met Sally. So my advice to her, and I know she'll be reading this....move on. The only type of wrangling anyone should undertake is that of horse or cattle wrangling. Most people are simple and straightforward, and if there's a man on the horizon who appears to be just that....spend your emotional energy on him, he's a far better bet for happiness in the long run.

Hello again!

Okay, first off, huge apologies for not keeping this up to date....

I am now the proud possessor of a shiny new Masters Degree in Creative Writing...what good it'll do me I don't know, but it was fun to do. I've been writing quite a bit for the magazine...those of you in the know will have noticed my face peering out at you from the pages with greater regularity recently.

I've also completed my first trad lead climb outside in the Wye Valley - the day was both exhilarating and terrifying in equal parts.

I've been out on a couple of dates and discovered that men are far, far more complex than me. Personally I'd settle for a good friend with whom I can go to the cinema, have a nice meal and a good laugh. I've been rather disappointed to discover that the caveman instincts which see women as possessions never seem far below the cultured modern surface....

However, I've never been one to tar all people with the same brush and I tend to take people as I find them...no doubt normality lies out there, somewhere....



Oh dear, this post does sound rather depressing....and as if I'm generally disappointed with all mankind...Which is not at all the case...there are some very bright sparks on the horizon...and the black spots are all behind me, I hope!

A quick update

Time really does fly when you're having fun....

Almost a month since I updated the blog. What have I been up to? Well many of you may be aware that I've been writing a novel as part of a masters degree....I've finished it! Or at least, I've finished the entire first draft. The last third has now been handed in as my dissertation for the masters and I'll hear within the next two weeks about how I've fared.

That's the biggest reason for not writing anything here.

In other news I've been climbing a great deal - not much outside stuff, but really pushing myself at the indoor wall. I've been out a little bit, saw the Angry Pirates again, went out a few times with The Flatterer - he's now become a great friend at whom I can poke fun. I've also been out with The Climber - another one who has become part of my social circle and like the rest of them tends to keep me up to date on their love life and girlfriend troubles.

Now the deadline for the dissertation is past I've got to start thinking about the major rewrites for the whole novel and getting it ready to be turned down by publishers. I'm also preparing for a few days away in New York to see friends and family!

Today I came across this very interesting post on a blog all about reading and the state of reading in the USA. As regular readers know, I'm an avid reader and this piece reminded me why I love reading so much. Enjoy.

Reading in America

Moving On

It's amazing how resilient the human spirit is...how quickly we get over things...how quickly we get over people, move on and alter our lives. Ten years ago my grandmother died as did a good friend who was only in his twenties. I wouldn't say that now it's as if they never existed, but I suppose the hole left by people simply closes up or gets filled with other stuff. The only real constant in our lives is us. Sometimes it can feel - certainly to me - that my life is like a bus journey and friends and relatives are with me for part of the journey but they either get on after me or before me...and some stay longer than others. Of course there are the figures in your life that you believe will be there for the whole journey but they're not...they leave before you'd like them to or maybe you get off their bus first.

Strange analogy I know, but it seems to make sense to me especially while my life is in such flux.

One never knows quite what is going to be around the corner, or who for that matter. And it's the who that now many of my friends are concerned about....I'm preparing myself for a flurry of invitations in the coming months...many of my married friends have taken it upon themselves to find what they believe I need - a single fit man in his thirties. It's great to know that my friends care about my well-being and so on, but more than a little disconcerting to know they're considering fixing me up....Perhaps my single status is disapproved of or maybe even feared - is it catching maybe?

A Thoughtful One

I'm into the thick of writing these days - the final throes of the novella. So all that tight plotting and sentence construction does rather tend to make me fall back on myself. I can be a very introspective person at the best of times - I've mentioned here before that I like nothing more than to examine conversations I've had with a microscope - or Fine Tooth Comb as my mother would say. Considering how a character might act or react leads me to consider my actions and the actions of those around me too.

I do wonder about the whole notion of Nature versus Nurture - you know the idea that we are who we are because of our inherited genes, or because of what we may have experienced. I'm inclined to think that our genes provide a starting block and nurture - our experiences give us the shades and tones of our characters. As a child I believed quite firmly that before being born we each were given a film show of potential lives and then told to chose one - none being necessarily better than another, but each with hardship and happiness and more importantly the opportunities for learning. I believed that everyone was here for a purpose - to achieve something, to learn something or teach something, and once that purpose was met then our lives would be over - we would return to the celestial waiting room and go through the entire process again. I think a lot of my ideas came from reading things like Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha when I was at school. So I suppose that proves my theory too - I am a product of my own reading and education, but only because I already had certain leanings because of my inherited nature from my parents - a great deal of books that I read as a child came from my dad's huge collection. I was always encouraged to read anything I could lay my hands on and subsequently by the time I left school I had worked my way through popular fiction in the shape of Stephen King, Jackie Collins and Danielle Steel (shared those ones with my mum) and I'd also dipped into some great literature like Hesse, Nin, H.G.Wells, John Wyndham,Orwell,Hardy and loads more. Reading and writing have always been fundamental facets of my personality.

Strangely enough this post was going to be about the effect different people have upon ones life...hmm...I've ended up writing about books. That says a great deal about me.

I've always been of the opinion that I'm a very straightforward person - I was once described as an Open Book - easy to read and with no secrets. But I was told the other day that I am a difficult and demanding character - not in a bad way, but nonetheless, not straightforward at all. I suppose we all become more difficult and demanding as life's experiences shape us and leave us a little more wary and afraid of being hurt again. I'm often saying that I wish people would be honest with me. Why can't men be honest with women? Or women honest with men? Just a few exchanges with my friends opens a whole new can of worms about lack of communication and honesty in their personal relationships.

Honesty is a wonderful thing but sometimes we don't want to hear the truth.

This post is terribly obtuse I'm afraid...unformed ideas appearing on the screen springing from lots of deep thoughts and the usual chaos of my life...and as usual I'm unwilling to come clean about quite what is bugging me...partly to protect the innocent (who would that be then?) and partly to preserve some weak façade of privacy which is hypocritical to say the least - I keep a blog for god's sake! Suffice to say things aren't straightforward, quite the reverse.

Not the usual playful post. Deeply thoughtful. Perhaps when it all comes out in the wash I'll be able to unravel it.

So, what have I been up to of late? I went climbing in Wales for the day the other weekend - that was a lot of fun. Good weather, good climbing and good company - all in all a very successful day in the Wye Valley. That's not me doing the lead climb here in this photo - I don't lead, I'm not even very keen on it at an inside climbing wall, I'd far rather push myself by completing a clean good climb without the sheer panic of placing gear and worrying that I'm going to fall off any moment. Call me a wimp, call me anything you like, I'm more than happy to second or top rope.



Apologies to those of you who don't climb and have no idea what the hell I was on about there...



Anyway, on with the show...

I went and saw the Angry Pirates again on Friday - this time with Jo and The Flatterer (who has now become part of the crowd of friends and no longer the object of Jo's lust). We had a great time and I ended up drinking far too much wine (for me...not for any normal human being - 4 glasses). Fortunately I wasn't too embarrassing although I did end up telephoning a friend and boring them and not surprisingly they've avoided me since then.

Last night I was lying in bed thinking about composing this post - I do that quite often - compose bits of writing in my head and then forget them. I know I should keep a notebook next to me at all times - actually I do that but I still often don't bother to record my thoughts and they're lost forever. This post was supposed to be very deep and thoughtful all about something to do with relationships with people. I can't even remember the main theme to be honest...Probably more navel gazing....although naval gazing would be more interesting (NOTE - wit hidden in spelling!). Talking of wit - I'm missing writing humour these days...I'm on the downward stretch for my novella - it's drawing to a close and I need to tie up the loose ends and complete it. I guess that those of you who have got to know me from my writing will know that one of the main reasons for posting this will be to avoid writing anything else, procrastinator that I am....

This post is rambling. Maybe when I can remember what I wanted to talk about I'll post something worth reading.

Oh! One thing I want to mention....the whole being Stood Up bit....
I forgot something vital that I learned some time ago - it's obvious really, but I still forget it sometimes -

You can only be responsible and in control of your own behaviour, your own reactions. Not anyone else's.

In other words, no point in getting irritated by someone's behaviour - you can't change it just by being angry with them, it's pointless and only hurts you.

Buddha-like serenity and equanimity henceforth shall be found here.
(Dictionaries can be found at the back...cheek and sarcasm has not dissipated).

Was I stood up?

I've been back a couple of weeks now and the USA seems like a world away. After Vegas we headed down to Los Angeles, and after a few days there flew to Detroit, stayed with relatives and then back to the UK. Sorry the end of the tale is a bit brief, but that's so often the way...

Anyway, life here is resuming it's previous shape and form - article writing for the magazine, novel writing, some temping at some point, plenty of climbing and a little bit of catching up with friends.

The catching up with friends can sometimes be fraught with problems and it's not always the old friends who are difficult to catch up with...Why does being let down by friends who have suggested getting together end up feeling like you've been stood up! And it just ends up with me thinking that they are just plain rude. I don't like thinking that my friends are rude - I don't have rude friends. But in this technological world with almost universal mobile phone ownership, why can't someone just call and say "I'm sorry I didn't meet up with you...but I had a better offer"

Or maybe it's just me that puts too much emphasis on casual remarks...but I'm inclined to think that my gut instincts are right...I was stood up! By a friend! They had better have a good excuse and promise to make it up to me. And if you're reading this, you know who you are....

Las Vegas

The desert and canyon country of Zion and Bryce were the last we were to have of peace and quiet and a little slower pace of life....Las Vegas beckoned...

There was firstly a few hours drive across the Mojave desert to be negotiated, passing by the largest thermometer in the world which I personally was thrilled to see. The driving was all that you would expect it to be - automatic car set to cruise control on a dead straight road - it was suggested to me by a friend that I could have played cards whilst going along to prevent boredom - not such a bad idea actually.

In Vegas we stayed at Circus, Circus which is as its name implies, a circus, or at least, it has a circus going on inside the hotel all the time...Well, actually it doesn't...what it has is a small stage set up inside a Big Top style area where every couple of hours some sort of act is performed - Jugglers, Acrobats, Trapeze artists, that sort of thing. The hotel and casino is probably better known in Vegas for its inside theme park which is a little smaller than Metroland at the Metro Centre in Gateshead but just as noisy. And yes, several hours were spent there going on the roller coaster and the log flume ride.


Vegas itself was a mixed bag. Plenty of Americans go wild for hotels like the Venetian where you can ride in a gondola under a fake Bridge of Sighs but for Europeans (read - Me) it was tacky on a grand scale...But then that's only because of the general arrogance of Europeans (Me) who have been to see the real Bridge of Sighs so why on earth would I want to have a go on the fake one? Some parts of Vegas are a must see but in all honesty, it would be far, far better to go on an adults only trip...It's not terribly family friendly despite the best efforts of Circus, Circus. The main road - the strip - is punctuated by guys selling tickets for clip joints and every newspaper stand (the ones where you put in your money, open the plastic box and take out the paper) was filled with porn magazines. Even the once thrilling Treasure Island extravaganza - a pirate adventure on full sized ships on water, which took place each evening outside the Treasure Island hotel, has changed...It's now called TI and the pirates have been added to....now there is a ship full of scantily clad 'Sirens' who do the whole pole dancing bit and entice the pirates aboard their ship. The show is on each evening and it's all free...people (mainly men) start hanging around waiting for the show to begin about an hour before the start....Add to this a Spearmint Rhino and Hooters, not forgetting the seedier places off the strip and you've got an Adult playground complete with the casinos and nightclubs.

All of that aside, half an hour's drive down the road from Las Vegas will take you to Red Rock Canyon National Park which is renowned the world over for its sport climbing. We took a drive out there and I rather grumpily drooled over the rock faces - I say grumpily because it was well over 100 degrees - too hot for me to climb and I hadn't organised it properly either, so I sulked, despite having no one to blame but myself.

I was quite happy to leave Vegas when the time came - it was loud and brash and I felt like I was missing out on the party most of the time. I would go back there again though, but it would be with climbing friends, all adults, and the days would be spent at Red Rock and the nights out on the town...Now that would be some trip!

Recap...continued

I'll try to keep the details of the holiday fairly brief as it's all in the past now and I want to talk about the present...

So after visiting Zion Canyon we spent the day at Bryce Canyon which is utterly breathtaking and up so high that it's rather chilly too. All the canyons and red rock formations are stunning but I did find that I reached a point where I was at visual overload - it was amazing to look at but I was past caring and wanted a large glass of wine...which come to think of it I never did get around to having, which is criminal quite frankly bearing in mind we spent some time in California too...hmmm...I shall simply have to make up for it now I'm back in the UK (and coincidentally going out for a drink later with The Flatterer! And a female friend of his...it's all platonic, so don't get yourself worked up into thinking that I have suddenly found a 'Love Interest'! Ha! And really, if I had do you think I'd be broadcasting it to all and sundry on the internet? Well, don't answer that one....).


Tomorrow I'll post details of Las Vegas and onwards....

Back home and a quick recap

I've been back home now a couple of days and I'm still suffering from a little jet-lag or is that just a reluctance to return to normal life? After we left Jackson I didn't get any internet access which is why the blog didn't get updated, so here's a brief recap....
The kids and I went White Water Rafting...that's me at the front on the left hand side looking like a drowned rat...the kids are nowhere to be seen but they are on board, just cowering perhaps... It was great fun but I was sitting in entirely the wrong position - I got drenched every time we hit even a ripple. Things didn't improve with the large lady who came to sit in front to Ride the Bull - somehow I still seemed to get wet.

We headed down from Jackson leaving Wyoming, passing briefly through Idaho onto Utah and Salt Lake City for the night. Attempting to rely on the SatNav system was not such a good idea as we ended up on the bad side of town...I stopped the car, locked the doors and consulted a good old fashioned map....ten minutes later we reached our destination. The following day after we had left we heard that there had been three murders in Salt Lake City while we were there. Gulp.
Then it was off to the beautiful Zion National Park which struck me as being the original setting for the Road Runner cartoons! It is real desert country around there and fires were a real problem. One of the things that Zion is renowned for is the Narrows
which is a stunning hike up through the river bed of the canyon. Unfortunately because of recent fires and some heavy downpours over the previous few days the river was fairly high, full of burnt debris and prone to flash flooding if another storm hit...So we only did a short walk along part of the river. The following day the kids and I did a longer hike higher up the canyon which quite frankly I found hair-raising as a single slip would result in death and when you're being accompanied by a pair of hyperactive nine year olds who would rather run on ahead than stay with their fretting mother....one's nerves end up somewhat frayed!
I could go on and on about Zion park, I took loads of photographs of the wildlife, the rock formations, the plant life and just the sheer scale of the place...

Anyway, there is more to tell, more pictures to show...Bryce Canyon, Las Vegas and Los Angeles! And of course the pimpmobile and the stretch limo....
So without wishing to sound like a cheesy US television presenter...tune in next time for another edition!

So, the day before yesterday (Wednesday) the kids and I went on a trail ride. Great fun, knackered old horses that only walk along the same old paths, but it's fabulous scenery and the trail guide was a very cute cowboy called Trey. We rode for four hours altogether and I stupidly forgot to apply sunblock so I now have a very fetching t-shirt tan....We went off to see the Rodeo in the evening - mainly because the lovely Trey was going to be there - the kids thought he was great and I thought he was very nice and very, very young - I jokingly said I'd buy him a drink if we saw him later (as you do...) and he asked where I was planning to be....Oops, he's keen...Sort of made me feel a little like a dirty old man....only a little though...mostly I felt flattered! And then I remembered - he's a College student - offer any student a free drink and they'll be there no matter what...
The Rodeo was fun and just like watching a film - in fact most of this holiday has been like so many US films which I suppose proves that either their films correctly capture life here or else life really does imitate art....

Yesterday we had a really great day - we got a guide (Jed) and went off into Grand Teton National Park and climbed in the shadow of the Cathedral Peaks. The photo here is one I took.
It was really good climbing - all granite and really easy compared to Southern Sandstone which is all I've climbed on outside so far. However, it was in the high 90s all day, very low humidity and it's over 7,000 feet above sea level, so when I did a couple of harder routes I felt like I was going to die! One particular climb was a really interesting little route - a nice flake to start with and then into a wide crack-like chimney which had a fairly big overhang. I had three goes at completing it but the heat just got to me (climber's excuse #23) it's a real shame that I'll probably never go back there and nail that one....

On the way back we passed loads of people standing taking photos on a bridge and a park ranger standing guard - wildlife! So we pulled over and got out to take a look and were rewarded with the sight of a huge moose sitting in the middle of a shady stream ignoring the stupid overheated humans taking pictures.
Later that evening I could be found attempting to sleep with my eyes open while drinking Purple People Eaters (I'd never tried or heard of them before, but they come in a pint glass....)

Today we slept in until after 9am - all that fresh air and activity finally slowed the kids up (thank god!). After a little light shopping we went back to the ranch where we had taken our trail ride the other day, but this time we went for a shorter ride and had a Cowboy Cook-Out....Sadly Trey didn't join us (well, actually he did show up just as we were about to leave - looking all puppy dog eyed and asking if we were going to the Rodeo tomorrow night as he's doing Bull Riding....and we might go....but only because the kids want to see it!). And this time the ride was a little more eventful - first of all Ashley our cowgirl guide almost got thrown from her horse as it got spooked by something, and then one of my delightful sons lost his (new) cowboy hat to the wind which in turn spooked my horse who spectacularly threw me off....Fortunately I fell with tremendous grace (ha!) and didn't get hurt at all - well, perhaps my pride, but only slightly - I got hold of my horse, calmed him down and climbed back on....then I felt very pleased with myself, particularly as this was only the third time in my life that I've ridden a horse! But don't forget that these very docile horses are very similar to the tired out beach donkeys....so my fall and return to the saddle isn't quite as impressive as I'd like.....

Tomorrow we're planning to go to the local Farmers' Market, the town shoot out (happens daily Monday to Saturday) and then onto the Rodeo. Dear god, I feel like I'm trapped in either a Country and Western song or else a 1950s cowboy film....But hey, next week I'll be in Vegas and I can pretend I'm in either Ocean's Eleven or Casino!

Yellowstone National Park and no Yogi Bear!

I'm here in the USA. I've seen Old Faithful, the Morning Glory pool, a black bear, plenty of geysers and lots and lots of burnt trees. Yellowstone National Park is beautiful and strange too - the hot springs and other geo-thermal features are quite breathtaking (not least of all because of the stink of sulphur!).
Disappointingly there is no mention anywhere of Yogi Bear and Booboo - so anyone who grew up in the 70s and 80s watching the Smarter than Average Bear outwit the Ranger won't find them here at the real Jellystone Park.
So, having seen all of that we've moved on and now we're in Jackson Hole, Wyoming - a real (tourist) cowboy town....Tomorrow I'm off with the kids to spend the day horseriding. Thursday we're going climbing in the Tetons (yeah, be jealous!) so it's busy, busy, busy...whitewater rafting later in the week, a rodeo tomorrow night and sometime around the weekend I shall be slumped in a heap somewhere!

One of the things I've really enjoyed since I've been here is French Toast (posh eggy bread) - I would never dream of eating it back home in the UK but here, with maple syrup drizzled over....mmmmmmmmmmmmmm! And I've been eating ice cream each day, huge ice creams - great flavours and toppings. Yes, I shall return carrying some excess baggage I suspect, in the shape of a few extra pounds...

Going Away....

Later this week I’m off to the States with my parents and the kids – an epic road trip starting in Billings, Montana and ending up in Los Angeles, with a quick stop off with family in Detroit before returning to the UK. I’m hoping that while I’m away I’ll be able to post the occasional blog entry and certainly keep up with friends via email and as I’ve even been able to sort out a cell phone for the US I may be able to phone some of you too…

I have sort of mixed feelings about the trip: on the one hand it’s going to be great to get away, visit a beautiful part of the world, go climbing in some amazing places, spend time with the kids, with my parents, go horse riding, white water rafting and generally be on the go the entire time…But on the other hand I’m going to be spending the entire time with my parents, the kids, all up close and personal and I won’t have the usual outlet of seeing and talking to my closest friends on a daily basis….I know I’m not gone for ever, but I won’t be back until the beginning of August and right now that feels like a very long time….

But life is all about experiences and adventures and I’m about to go on a big one! Added to which, this time I’m in charge – those of you who know me well will also know that being in charge pleases me….Not that I’m bossy or anything you understand…..But in my experience things just tend to be much better organised when I’m in charge….Now please stop rolling your eyes.

For those of you whose addresses I have I shall endeavour to send postcards, otherwise, check back here for an update on the road!

Rollercoasters and Unicycles

It’s been some time since I updated my blog for a variety of reasons, mostly because my life took off in some funny directions and it’s taken until now for things to regain some sort of equilibrium…although I know some of you will find that hard to believe – my life being the usual rollercoaster ride that it is…

Okay, a swift run down…joined a new climbing wall – very, very successful, lots of extremely nice people there so I’ve been climbing around four times a week for the last few weeks – yes, my arms are beginning to take on a slightly sculpted look, it’s good! I was there the other day and climbing with an Italian chap called Pierre which was fun particularly as he had persuaded his work colleagues to come along to try out some climbing – they clearly were not convinced but made all the polite noises. After we had finished climbing I went out to my car to find another climber trying out his unicycle in the carpark….so I also had a go….

In other news things have been very up and down….the next stage in anyone’s life after a major relationship break up is for both partners to move on to pastures new, so to speak….That leaves everyone with mixed feelings I guess…And maybe it’s something I’ll discuss more at length some other time….Life moves on….
Freedom is a hugely undervalued commodity in my opinion. It’s not something I wish to give up freely every again but the most important thing for me is that I now realise that fact – it’s taken me a very long time to understand just how vital and precious true freedom is to me and of course now I will only surround myself with like-minded people….fortunately most of them are also climbers….

I’ve been laid up for the last few days with an insect bite that turned nasty and has made my leg swell to elephantine proportions – taking antibiotics, but really the only cure is rest…So my leg is elevated and I can’t do too much. Ideal you would have thought for doing some writing…erm…no…Maybe I’ve got Writer’s Block…I certainly can’t seem to just sit down and write the way I usually do…most days I fire up the laptop, open a document and go for it…write plenty of words (most of them utter rubbish, but still…). For the last week or two my brain has simply turned to colourless mush entirely incapable of stringing more than a few words together. So in the best procrastinators tradition I have seen far, far too much of the internet and far too many kittens….

Some writers swear by simply hitting the ground running and writing whatever comes to mind first – in fact that’s the way I do most of my writing – just write and worry about the sense in the rewrites. I’m not a believer in waiting for the ‘muse’ to strike – I think you’ll wait all year, or all your life. I often wonder if that’s how the likes of J.D.Salinger writes – after producing the wonderful Catcher in the Rye, nothing of any substance has been produced since…or certainly, not published. Reading about Salinger though, it seems that he writes every day but purely for his own enjoyment – the very best way to write. So he doesn’t wait for the muse or divine inspiration, but just gets on with it.

I think most things that require us to be active in some way are too easy to put off or put aside…everyone loves to procrastinate…there are always so many interesting things on TV, the internet, hidden under the bed, in the back of the wardrobe, anywhere in fact rather than sitting down and writing or doing your tax return…Actually that reminds me, I need to do mine…I bet I get it done before I get much writing finished….

Been here before?

Firstly apologies for the length of time it’s taken me to post something new here….life has been busy.

I found this Rabindranath Tagore poem today...

Unending Love

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.


It’s beautiful but it also made me think about the notion of reincarnation and our souls going on…Despite being brought up in a very strict religious community (that makes it sound quite terrifying…but then nuns can be…) I no longer consider myself of be someone of Faith, as such. I love the idea of reincarnation, Heaven, the Afterlife all of that, but I can’t really get it to square with science…and to my mind that’s the real nature of Faith – a willingness to set aside all that is known and simply believe in the unknown…I guess I’m too much of a coward to just give in and believe…I need hard evidence. Anyway, this poem added to that – I can’t say that I have experienced just what Tagore is talking about here – I would truly love to meet someone and believe that we had been together before, and were destined to always in each life, meet again and remain friends and lovers. But I can’t believe that. Each person I meet is so new to me, and those who I might have thought I had a deep connection to at some point, always manage to surprise me and therefore convince me that we, or maybe just I, don’t ever really know anyone….
One of my favourite pastimes (aside from people watching) is talking about what has happened – I love to chew over conversations I’ve had with people and will spend hours talking to my closest friends about what this or that remark really meant…as everyone of course has a sub-text….No one ever just says what they mean (apart from me, of course). So many happy hours are passed deciphering just what He really meant when He said that….Now surely if I’d known them in a previous life all of that would be unnecessary, as I would already know exactly what they meant, wouldn’t I?
But then again, just because I’ve not experienced what Tagore is talking about, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist…For example, I’ve never been to see the Pyramids, but I know they exist….So maybe if there is such a thing as the Afterlife or Reincarnation, maybe some of us are just very young souls and haven’t clocked up the necessary man-hours to know our soul mates when we see them…or maybe we just haven’t met them yet.

Passion

Jo has met up again with the last guy she met at the Speed Dating and it would appear that although it’s very early days, this could well last a while. She’s really into him and him her – her face lights up when she talks about him and everything about him is described in glowing terms. This happening in the real world combined with me cracking on with the novel has got me thinking about the nature of passion….

It’s my belief that life lived without passion is no life at all. Life is a wild adventure full of excitement, wonderment and above all, passion. But you can only experience this high if you’ve had the low where everything in your life is utter crap. I constantly tell myself that nothing lasts forever, not even the good stuff; in fact I bet I’ve mentioned that in a blog entry already, but I can’t say it enough – we ought to remind ourselves of this fact on a daily basis. I’d hazard a guess that anyone who has truly faced mortality – their own or someone close to them – realises this….once you cut through the polythene vacuum pack of our safe comfortable 21st century life and realise just how fragile all of this is around us, then it’s clear that it’s all transient and could all be gone tomorrow.

When I look at friends and consider how their lives have turned out – the ones who have suffered with mental health problems, the ones who have faced bankruptcy, been homeless, walked out on their partners and children, got through major illnesses, operations…In other words, Life. I realise that no one reaches their 30s without dealing with some of the big stuff. It’s unavoidable. Yet these same people are every bit as normal and sane as the rest of us, in many cases, more sane and certainly more compassionate because they’ve been there and know that each of us treads a very thin line in life.

So with all that in mind it’s hardly surprising that the wise amongst us knowing that this could all be gone tomorrow, are willing and brave enough to live for the passion in their lives today. And I’m not especially talking about sexual passion, although that’s a good a reason as any to get out of bed each day…or should that be, Stay in bed each day! We each need something to motivate us – I know that paying the mortgage bills is a pretty strong motivation to go to work each day, but wouldn’t you, if you could, do a job that you loved to get to each day and the pay at the end of it was a happy bonus? Our society puts so much emphasis upon material goods these days and less upon the emotional or spiritual, if you wish to call it that. Who is happier do you think – the guy commuting to London each morning with a 4 hour daily travelling time and eight hours spent in a little grey concrete box counting beans, or the one outside every day cutting down trees or even driving a tractor? Undoubtedly the bean counter has a far higher material standard of living, but is he as happy? In some cases the answer is a resounding yes, and there are plenty of tractor drivers who have had enough of ploughing up and down the same old patch of land year in year out for precious little in the way of financial reward. I guess what I’m saying here is that following your passion, your dream, is always a better way to live your life.

Some years ago I was a teacher. Many of my contemporaries at Uni are now headteachers, heads of department, important careers, well paid and undoubtedly many of them feel fulfilled and satisfied in their work. I made the decision to leave teaching because I wanted to do something more creative with my life. Financially the decision sucked. But I followed my passions – art, the countryside and writing – to mention just three. It’s a cliché but true that no one lies on their deathbed and says they wish they’d worked more. Follow your passion – you may end up poor, but at least you’ll be happy.

And yes, before you all start adding angry comments about how you’ll be miserable when poor, I realise that too….the real secret is to find the balance – to discover just how little you truly need – you might surprise yourself.

Oh, this is a very preachy post…..They don’t come up that often….must be something I ate.

The May Ball

Last night saw Jo and myself going off to the rugby club May Ball both dressed in slinky dresses, far too much makeup and industrial strength hair products. We had a great time, not least of all because wine was involved and after a lovely meal we went outside to the Entertainments….

After very little encouragement from one of the rugby coaches I had a go on the Bucking Bronco machine….bit hard to get up on the back of one of those things after a few glasses of wine, so the coach, in best coaching supportiveness grabbed hold of my rear end and pushed me up onto the mechanical beast….Rugby is after all a contact sport so I was in expert hands….Next we tackled the dodgems – great fun apart from the whiplash injuries sustained. Back onto the Bucking Bronco – unfortunately the wine had got the better of me by this time and I found it impossible to hold on either with my knees or my hands for longer than approximately 20 seconds – possibly less. After that the only thing that remained was to have a go at the reverse Bungee – basically you are attached to a rope, you run as far as you can and the elastic rope pulls you back rather rapidly. Again I proved to be useless at this – I believe a good deal of body weight is required along with strength and as I was running against a 17 stone 6’4” rugby player I really didn’t stand a chance…but at least he managed to keep his trousers in one piece this year – a couple of years back he ripped his trousers from front to back along the crotch – it was a hired suit (DJ or tux to those of you in the US) and his wife had to stitch it up before they could return it…This year fortunately he owns his own and his wonderful lady had already reinforced the seams!

Despite consuming a fair amount of wine I still remained sober enough to watch people which I love to do…. I am fascinated to observe how couples relate to one another in public…I would hazard a guess that because I have a recently failed major relationship behind me I have a greater interest than most…. I look to see if there are clues to success or else visible cracks in what other people have…. Watching friends and acquaintances I constantly wonder what makes some couples get together and stay together. Very often physical attractiveness doesn’t seem to feature – or at least, it doesn’t any longer, maybe it once did in the initial stages of attraction, but not now. And that seems a little odd at times – particularly if one partner appears to still be making a huge effort with their appearance and yet their other half just doesn’t bother. Or else they spend most of the evening with other people, not talking or even acknowledging each other…I wonder to myself if this is what a relationship looks like in its death-throes, or if this is just how this particular couple operate socially and behind closed doors the other is the most important person in the world. Because I think that’s what all of us want ultimately – to be the most important person in the world to someone. Some men and women would say that their children are the most important people in their lives but I disagree. I adore my two sons but I know that in ten or fifteen years time they will have their own very independent lives – in fact that will probably happen in less than ten years and I’ll be happy about that – that is what I want for my children – independence. My children won’t be there for me each night when I get home from work ready to listen to the petty details of my day, give me a hug and a glass of wine. They’ll maybe listen a bit and then want (I hope) to tell me of their latest achievements, high points, worries, and perhaps ask me for money or a lift somewhere! Children are only with us for a few short years and then they’re adults, off to conquer the world on their own. I believe that all of us want to have someone beside us so we conquer the world together, as equals. That’s not your child.

Funny, I seem to have wandered off topic again – I started wanting to talk about couple dynamics and have ended up talking about children, but I suppose it’s all connected…..

Moving to the front of the roller coaster

It’s been a few days since I posted anything on here, sorry about that, but my life has been rather busy with work – both the temping and writing. The temping is going very well – I work for half the week in a fairly quiet office, the people are very nice and my boss is a climber so we can swap stories. The writing has moved on a bit, I have managed finally to write the masturbation scene – it was far more difficult than I had anticipated…If I had been writing for myself for fun or for someone as a ‘gift’ (ahem!) then it would have been fairly easy to get into it and enjoy it, but as this piece had to fit into the rest of a novel, to have a definite purpose, to move the narrative along, to make sense with the character and also be available to a wider audience then it ends up being more demanding for me. My supervisor was pleased with it and glad that I had bitten the bullet (so to speak!) and finally got something sexual into the novel instead of constantly hinting at it as I had been doing.

Sometimes I think we live our lives like that – constantly hinting at what we want from others and ourselves, but rarely coming out and saying it in plain language. I suppose if I had to make a New Year’s Resolution that is exactly what it would be – to tell people what I want from them, from myself, from life. To my knowledge and belief we only get one life so we should make it count.

I know from climbing that making a committed move takes courage – what do I mean? Well, sometimes when you’re on your way up a route there is a move you need to make that requires you to just trust and throw yourself into it, you might make it, you might not, but unless you try you won’t find out and you certainly won’t get to the top. I find it hard to make those committed moves – I mentally screw up my courage, tell myself I can do it and then attempt it. I can be heard on the rock face talking away to myself – “You can make that move. Think. It’s easy. If you were only a couple of feet of the ground you could do it. You can do it. Remember Yoga. You can do it. Just move. Do it.” Sadly I don’t always listen to myself.

I try in the rest of my life to do that though, and when it doesn’t involve physical danger it’s a little easier….I’m the sort of person who takes quite some time to come to a decision over major matters, but when I reach that point, then there is no changing my mind. And sometimes I can be impulsive about things and consciously don’t stop to think about the consequences – sometimes it’s good to just do things and not talk yourself out of them.

I guess I’m back talking about fear again…I seem to think about it quite a lot, but I don’t feel it so much these days. If my life was a roller coaster ride I would say I’ve moved from sitting in the safe part in the middle to a seat right at the front but I haven’t the courage to let go yet and put my hands in the air…..

Escaping

I’ve just been catching up with the news on the BBC website and I was really interested to read about Antony Gormley’s latest artwork. For those of you who are unaware of Gormley he’s the man behind the Angel of the North and some would say our greatest living sculptor in the UK. His latest piece is simply fog in a box – a giant glass chamber filled with fog which you can walk into and wander around in, entitled Blind Light. Art that is interactive and experiential like this I really love – it gives you a real feeling for what the artist is trying to say and it takes you mentally to another place. For me good art is the stuff that does that – takes you somewhere else. In fact not just visual art does that – good music does it too and in fact for me climbing does it as well. It’s hard to explain quite what I mean because physical things like climbing lifts one out of the mundane world in an entirely different way from art and music – climbing in many respects is similar to sex – as you’re climbing up a route there is a good deal of physical exertion, maybe some huffing and puffing, taking leaps of faith, and sheer hard slog, but when you reach the top there is an amazing feeling of achievement and euphoria, oh, and your legs shake. Whereas art and music lift you out of yourself by making your consciousness shift over in your brain from the left side where it is logical and analytical to the right side where it is creative. When I’m writing fiction, particularly the novel, I have to be in the right hand side of my brain which may sound particularly odd to some of you, but it’s similar I suppose to riding a bike – you can’t really explain how you do it, but the more you practise the easier it gets. Except that moving over into the right side isn’t always easy sometimes it’s damn hard to switch off from the world around you and slide into the other you who isn’t concerned about bills and diaries and deadlines.

Writing this I’m beginning to see a pattern emerge in my personality and maybe I should rename the blog accordingly – I like to escape – everything in my life (almost) is about escaping. I only tolerate the mundane bits so I can go off and do what really pleases me which is to leave all this behind. All my life I’ve read voraciously – escapism. I used to do lots of yoga – escapism. Now I climb….I write….I daydream.

It’s just like Oscar Wilde said – All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

If you get the chance to visit the Haywood Gallery where Antony Gormley’s Blind Light fog in a box piece is showing, go! The next time I’m in London I shall make a point of seeing it – it opens Thursday 17th and is on until 19th August. Maybe I should drag my kids up there on Sunday and see it as a birthday treat for myself….

Truth and Lies

A couple of days ago I posted about what women say and what they mean regarding descriptions of men. I’ve been thinking further about what we say and what we mean and why we do that.

Sometimes we say what we believe to be the kindest thing to prevent someone from having their feelings hurt – “Yes, I still love you” or, “No, you haven’t put on weight” or, “That was great, I really enjoyed myself” Very few of us actually want to hurt someone’s feelings willingly, so we lie, either by omission, avoidance or sometimes just a bare faced untruth. Would the world be a better place if we all told the truth? Even if we could couch the truth in niceness and gentle tones, would we rather hear – “You’ve put on weight, but I still love you.” Or how about, “I just don’t fancy you, but it would be nice to be friends because you make me laugh, but I really don’t want to kiss you anymore”

What about when you have a relationship that you think is one thing – friendship perhaps, yet your partner believes it to be more, or less….And then when the truth emerges, as it always does because none of us can keep our mouths shut, someone gets hurt….

Is it better to just stop contacting each other? Just go ‘cold turkey’ and walk away until some day in the future when you bump into each other and can be polite. Listening to the stories of my single girl friends sometimes it would appear that just cutting all ties is often the kindest way forward – and they were talking about being on the receiving end not doing the cutting themselves. It’s a common topic of conversation – Why didn’t he call? Whole books are published on the subject – one that springs to mind (even though I’ve not read it, but seen the reviews) is “He’s Just Not That into You!” Sometimes it would seem that rather than being lied to we are complicent in this and we lie to ourselves. I’d guess that men as much as women tell themselves that the Object of their desire really does like them – they’re being a little offhand because they’re tired/stressed/hungry but deep down they like you, a lot. So when the moment comes that the reality of the situation is uncovered, one and possibly both partners are left hurt.

I’m not sure what the answer is here – whether we should all be more up front and just say what we feel but then running the risk that the Object of our desire doesn’t feel the same way and the result is hurt feelings and looking foolish. Or alternatively we keep our feelings to ourselves, drop little hints and generally play hard-to-get.

One of the inherent problems with telling all – aside from the obvious rejection problem – is that some people, women certainly, think through all relationships to the logical conclusion…Even if you’ve only had one date…..The Natasha Beddingfield song about Wanting His Babies is very, very true….not that we do want every man’s babies, but rather that we’ve considered it and if we don’t have a problem with the idea of it then he’s safe to date….

Be Specific!

Today I have to get another chapter of my novel written. On Tuesday I saw my supervisor (some of you may know that one of the reasons I’m actually getting this novel written is because I’m completing a Masters degree and it’s a requirement) she gave me some great ideas and encouragement but she also wants me to push myself a little further…..

My novel is very much underpinned by eroticism - by that I mean that the plot and the language that I’ve used is very intense, sensual and yes, a good deal of it has this seething sexual tension which is unsaid, always just under the surface. So, the advice I have been given is to push this further by making it more apparent and specific…..my supervisor pin-pointed this exactly – “You have to have a masturbation scene”

So that’s my task for the day.

And it's not an easy one....Some of you may be thinking - What a great job! But to write about something intimate is tricky anyway, add to that the descriptive necessities - it can't be clinical, well unless it needs to be clinical....It has to be sensual, a bit of a turn on, intimate, in keeping with the rest of the book, in keeping with the character, further the plot. Yes it would be much easier if it was just a practical exercise!

Just thought you might be interested. I’ll keep you all posted on its development and effectiveness!

On Cute

It’s got cold here again and the clouds have dropped down too so everything is grey and dull. This sort of weather always makes me feel down – unless of course I’m wrapped up, out hiking somewhere and have the promise of a hot bath and warm fire to curl up in front of when I return.

But at least life is taking a definite turn for the better these days. I have started a new temping job which will last for the next couple of months – it’s not the most exciting of jobs, but the people are nice and most importantly it’s all on flexi-time so I can set my own working hours so long as I do the number they need each week.

I’ve also got lots lined up with my girl friends – evenings out, girly nights in and plans for lots and lots of gossipy chats. I was discussing only yesterday with a male friend (hello Paul!) the nature of women’s conversation – what we say amongst ourselves and what we say in front of men….and also what we really mean when we talk to men…..Our conversation revolved around a chance remark about being “cute” and how men comprehend that compared to women’s understanding of the term….

In the interests of better understanding between the sexes I will recount some of my conversation….

Being called cute.....

Okay...here's the truth of the matter - most women are conditioned by society to find cute attractive, or else to use the term to describe an attractive man. If women (and I include myself in this one) had the courage they would be upfront and describe an attractive man in the terms they really mean instead of the short-hand of Cute. So, when I say a man is cute...what I really mean is "OMG, he is knicker-droppingly sexy" But wishing to remain a lady I describe him as cute.

Handsome is short-hand for either too young or too plastic. Good looking is acceptable, but usually used to describe your best friend's boyfriend - obviously you can't say, Wow, he's cute! Because she will know what you mean....

If,however, women are out on their own in a pub and see some attractive men they will say amongst themselves one of the following phrases...
"Look at him! He could do me anytime!"
"He is just sex on legs"
"Did you hear that noise? That was my knickers hitting the floor"
"Do you think he'll notice if I go up and start licking him?"

Now of course all of these remarks are made only in female company. If in mixed company - especially if the Object (of ones affections) is present, then it becomes,
"Oh, he's cute"
"What a nice looking man"
"Handsome"
"Do you know him?"
I hope this has cleared up any uncertainty and misunderstanding.
When I think of more, or indeed, have more conversations with my girl friends I will post accordingly.

Sometimes sitting down and writing can be really easy, I just sit there and the words all fall out. Other times it can be as if I had to physically pull thoughts and words from my head. Often it’s not helped at all by distractions – I’m not referring to the internet but to those distractions in the real world like the carpenter coming to hang new doors or my mother deciding she’d like an in depth conversation with me about the proposed colour of her wallpaper….None of it major stuff, but sometimes I’m a bit like a hamster – I need a warm little nest in which to cocoon myself (bit of a mixed metaphor but I’m sure you get the picture).

I think writers are by nature insular or at the very least introspective – I’m always examining not just what I’ve said, but what others have said to me. Almost every conversation I have is turned over in my mind, examined from every angle – Did she mean that when she said it? What does he want? Why have they said that to me? And perhaps most importantly – I wonder what will happen next?

After yesterday’s rather down post things took something of an upturn in my life and I spent the remainder of the day with a smile on my face….Why? Ah…now that would be telling….But it’s good when things you thought had gone forever make a welcome reappearance in your life, and it’s only then perhaps that you realise just how much you missed them…..

Anyway, I went off last night and attended the launch of Patricia Debney’s novel, Losing You . Patricia read from the book and ended on a cliff-hanger, so of course we all bought copies in order to find out what happens next. Jo and Eve met for the first time and of course they got on really well so a girls’ night out is definitely in order in the near future!

This post is a bit of a mishmash of ideas, nothing fully explored or really explained. A bit like my current mental state….unexplored and unconsidered – despite my remarks above that I consider everything…Which I do, I just haven’t had time yet to think all the recent events through….

I was supposed to be going to another Speed Dating event next Tuesday, for the 30-40 age group, I’ve cancelled it. As amusing as they’ve been, as a chaperone, as a participant I felt uncomfortable and sadly I didn’t really enjoy the enforced conversation with people I wouldn’t have spoken to otherwise….hmmm, that sounds terrible, but I think what I’m saying is that I’d rather meet people who have something in common with me. Whether it’s a fellow writer, or a climber, or perhaps something a little more obscure, but someone with whom I have some common ground. The only thing I had in common with the men at the Speed Dating Event was that we were all in the same bar at the same time. I can do that any weekend and not have to pay for the benefit. Sadly it also had an air of desperation about it and I’m not in any way desperate…but I think many of the men were.

I guess getting out into the world again and regaining ones social life is no simple task when your life has altered so radically. And that thing of considering every conversation you have – maybe it holds you back, I don’t know, but I do constantly wonder about other people and why they act in certain ways….That’s not very clear, I know. I suppose what I’m getting at is that rightly or wrongly, and actually now thinking this through and writing it down I can see that I’m perhaps getting this wrong….Is that I constantly think – Why did they do that? Is it because they really like me or are they just using me? And I realise that some of my reaction is caused by an occasional dip in self-esteem (hard to believe of me, I know!) and what I should really do is to just accept things at face value – the easiest answer is often the correct one.


Sorry for the general crapness of this post – maybe I’m not entirely out of the low that I hit yesterday….

Feeling low.

The weather has changed here – for the last few weeks we’ve had endless sunshine, blue skies and it’s been warm too. Today it’s overcast and cold. Maybe it’s the weather that’s causing me to feel low, or maybe it’s my biorhythms or something like that – not that I know anything about biorhythms.

Ups and downs are a natural part of life – the usual ebb and flow of our emotional state together with the ever changing state of ones day to day existence. Of course without the lows one can never truly experience the highs. That said the emptiness brought on by the lows is just depressing. A certain neediness begins to express itself in most of us – whether that’s in the form of eating more, drinking more, going shopping or crying down the telephone to your friends. But even doing those things doesn’t really fill the aching void that sits there within you.

For me now is a good time to sit and write – particularly the Novel – it relies so much upon the central character having extreme emotions that to attempt to write the passages when she is depressed is considerably harder when I’m in a good mood. I suppose that whether I like it or not I tend to write in a manner similar to that of a Method Actor – it’s necessary to experience the feelings for oneself in order to give a true representation of them. And sometimes that can be great fun – just removing the inhibitions of common sense and allowing my imagination to roam freely amongst the wilder areas that tend to see little of the light of day. Other times it can be almost cathartic to put down on (virtual) paper all that I feel in very brutal statements – getting all the bile out and away from me. Sometimes, like now, it just all makes me feel tired and I have a huge desire to just go to sleep, pull the duvet over my head and close out the world until I feel stronger.

I know that the low feeling will pass – they always do because nothing lasts forever, but just now I’m flat. I read somewhere, or maybe heard on a Radio 4 programme, that when you feel down – although thinking about it I believe the programme was referring specifically to proper depression, not just being a bit pissed off, but anyway….What they suggested was that you should ‘enjoy’ that time – see it as a time for withdrawing from your life and recuperating – taking time out for yourself, pampering yourself and not trying to be or do anymore than you are. That sounds just like I live my life anyway….

Generally my advice to others when they’re down is to count your blessings – yes I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true that there is always someone worse off, and we take so much for granted in our society that it’s too easy to forget how fortunate we are to have a roof over our heads, food, fresh water, all of those things that are just there. At the moment however, I can’t take my own advice. Nothing really to feel majorly miserable about, but as someone just put it to me, Life is a bit shite at the moment.
And funnily enough that made me smile, thanks Nick.

Speed Dating? Not again!

As a writer I feel it’s my duty to have lots of adventures so that my writing can reflect the breadth of experience…or maybe I just like to get out and have fun….
Anyway, last night in the pursuit of fun and adventure I was persuaded by Jo to have a crack at Speed Dating – having now been an innocent bystander twice, she thought it was time to get my hands dirty, so to speak. The whole experience was made all the better by having not just one female friend there, Jo, but coincidentally, three others – one I’d met at the last Speed Dating event, she too had been a chaperone, and also two other fellow Rugby club members.

So there I was looking reasonably glamorous and above all, eager, sitting at a table in the window of a bar waiting for my first victim, erm, no, date. Jo was at the table next to me looking stunning as usual – imagine a near six foot, size 10 (UK) version of the actress Sarah Lancashire with a platinum blonde bob and that’s Jo – so she’s pretty eye catching. Jo jokingly says to me, wouldn’t it be funny if your ex was to walk past on his way to the cash point. Ha ha I say. And then Jo went white…..he DID walk past! Twice! Jo and I dissolved into embarrassed giggles – I was mortified and wanted to climb under the table – particularly as the organiser was giving her pep talk at the time, she saw us in uncontrollable giggles and asked what was wrong, “Her ex husband has just walked past!” shouts out Jo cheerfully. Thanks.

Well it did effectively break the ice and I don’t think that Jo and I were as nervous after that, well, not nervous of our ‘dates’, I was slightly nervous that my ex would come in and ask me if I had taken leave of my senses, or worse, stand outside point at my 3 minute victim and laugh….


So, the Dates. 17 men all supposedly within the ages of 35-45, were they? Maybe one or two was actually in his 30s, the rest were at least 45 but more likely nearer to 55 or even 65. If I was to attempt Speed Dating again I would either go to the 30-40 bracket or more likely 25-35 at least that way I would perhaps meet someone only a year or two older than me and not from an entirely different generation!

Most of the men seemed to be reasonably nice people, some were more charming than others, some more interesting than others. One was more mad than any other man I’ve met before….he had arrived with a mobile phone clamped to his ear and an ordnance survey map flapping out of the waistband of his trousers. He also possessed what I think is the last pair of NHS glasses in existence which is shocking considering we were only a couple of hundreds of yards from SpecSavers. He sat down and mumbled on about the recent earthquake that we experienced down here in Kent. Much of what he said I couldn’t hear but I did make out his general annoyance with local government who apparently contact him every time there is a natural disaster – the earthquake, a hurricane (this happened last month according to him, I missed it myself) – they contact him, ask for his ‘expert’ knowledge (on what I have no idea) and then they don’t even offer him payment or a permanent job. I made all the right noises and nodded encouragingly. He was clearly impressed by this and asked me if I listened to Radio Caroline….I didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s been gone for a long time, so I said I remembered it (that was a lie, I have heard of it, know some of the stories about it being the forerunner to Radio 1 and so on, but it was before my time I think). He then went on to tell me about a Dutch radio station that operates next door to Caroline (erm…wasn’t Radio Caroline on a boat?) he gave me the frequency to tune into and then asked me what my favourite song was….My mind went blank except for two things – James Blunt’s You’re Beautiful – no good, no good at all, it would give him all the wrong ideas! Or alternatively someone has been attempting to convert me to Leonard Cohen – now that would send out all the right messages, so Leonard it was. So if I tune in today I could hear a Leonard Cohen song which he would have broadcast just for me. Afterwards I discovered this man had told at least one woman that he finds it very hard to meet women for sex. That’s a great chat up line.

Aside from him I also managed to put my foot in it with a chap who works as a Safety Officer for a Nuclear power station – “You’re Homer Simpson!” I blurted out without giving it a second thought….

I also had a rather pained conversation with an older man who told me he drove a lorry. I attempted to draw him out and ask which firm – no reply. So I asked what he carried in his lorry – he told me the firm was based in London and did contract work for the local government. Oh, says I, that sounds interesting, and then I repeat my question, What do you have in your lorry? Finally I get a reply – Household Waste Management……Yes dear reader, he was a Bin Man. Now don’t get me wrong – there is nothing at all wrong with being a Bin Man – it’s an essential job that all of us rely on each week, or every other week in some areas around here…And not a job he should be ashamed of having, but he clearly was and didn’t have a sense of humour about it, and as we all know, humour cures all.

The end of the evening saw me with a score card filled with crosses all in the Miss column – maybe some of the men were very nice, but I’d rather stay single than settle. In fact I’d go so far as to say that I’d seriously consider taking up lesbianism as a lifestyle choice if the men last night were truly representative of the single men out there.

Dinner Dates

It’s Friday afternoon and I should be looking forward to an action packed weekend….hmm….not really….

Tonight I’m out with Jo – she’s arranged for us to have dinner with the two chaps we had the drink with the other week after the Speed Dating. And while I’m sure it’ll be a pleasant evening and nice to share an intelligent conversation….hmmm….I don’t know….I’m not keen on going out with someone unless they entirely understand that this is only as friends – I don’t wish to lead these men on in any way, shape or form. So I don’t want them to end up feeling that they’ve wasted their time – but on the other hand, what’s wrong with going out for a pleasant evening, good company and Me? They’re onto a winner!

Tomorrow I had hoped to be out climbing in Tunbridge Wells again, but the guys I went with last week are all climbing on Sunday and I have to play rugby on Sunday – yes, I know that’s a bit of a shock – parents against coaches at my sons' rugby club…and even more shocking and slightly worrying is the fact that my ex is one of the coaches….it could get nasty…eeek! No, I’m sure it won’t get nasty - he’s a perfect gentleman (and he sometimes reads this blog…..). However, I have never played rugby in my life, hockey yes, but not rugby or football so it could be that come Monday I may not be able to move….

So tomorrow will find me at the indoor wall – which is still fun but just not anywhere near as much fun as climbing outside. Tomorrow evening Jo is having her housewarming dinner party – The Flatterer is going and is supposed to be bringing a friend. Hmm…why am I getting the feeling that Jo is beginning to attempt to set me up? Or maybe it’s just natural reticence. But I certainly don’t feel excited about meeting any of these men. I guess that’s only natural when one has been in a major long-term relationship and of course in no way reflects on the men – I don’t know them so it can’t reflect upon them. But getting “out there” just doesn’t feel terribly attractive at the moment unless it’s out there on a rock face.

Oh dear, a rather down and depressing entry I’m afraid. Maybe I’m scared. But I don’t feel scared of meeting men – I positively enjoy meeting new people and socialising. All of this though, just makes me feel awkward. I think maybe because it’s all a bit artificial – it is set up. And who knows, maybe there is also an element of jealousy on my part – Jo is the one who knows all these men from her Speed Dating escapades, and I’m used to being the one who talks to anyone and knows lots more people.

I have had suggestions put to me today that involve chatting up some random man in the bar where we’re due to meet and then disappearing with him for the evening….now while that may sound like quite an attractive proposition….chickening out and leaving Jo in the lurch isn’t my style at all. And I’m sure we’ll have a lovely evening – does it sound like I’m beginning to attempt to convince myself now?

The Yellow Wallpaper

I’ve got one bit of work out of the way – an article written and submitted so that’s one thing crossed off the list. Now I’ve still got some redrafting to do and an academic essay to write too, but none of that needs to be in until Friday….

So I’m writing more for the blog…

Are you beginning to see a common thread here? It’s true what they say about writers – that we *have* to write – but that said it doesn’t mean that I get things done.

I’ve always been that type of writer – as a child I kept a diary, in fact sitting in an attic somewhere are volumes of my teenage diaries – tens of thousands of words, all teenage angst, all written in longhand, every day for years. I guess keeping a blog is no different – maybe a little less of the teenage angst and more of the thirty-something angst...

I know that if I went and looked at those old diaries now just opening them would slip me back into my 14 year old self – I would still remember writing those words, feeling those things and very possibly experience the same shock and embarrassment that we all suffer as self-obsessed teens. Or maybe I’d look at it all and not remember any of it and it would feel as if a stranger had written it – that often happens to me with fictional short stories I have written – I no longer recognised sections and wonder if I really wrote that – particularly when it strikes me as being good.

I think that keeping a diary is like holding a conversation with oneself and I suppose depending upon the state of ones’ mental health it will be calm and considered or mad as a box of frogs.

I had a long conversation with Roo the other day – we met for lunch (anything to thwart my deadlines) we were discussing mental health and as she is a nurse and my novel is about a mad woman we’ve both got bits of knowledge about some of the issues surrounding being barking. Aside from which as we both went to the same all girls’ boarding school we spent many years sharing confidences with plenty of crazy females.
One of the best fictional accounts of a woman’s descent into madness is the story The Yellow Wallpaper – it’s about a woman during the late 19th century who is suffering from post-natal depression, she’s alone in an attic room and pretty soon she begins to see figures in the yellow wallpaper and ultimately she swaps places with the wallpaper woman and loses her mind. The story is told in lucid detail and every step of the way the reader can see both sides to the story – yes she’s going mad, but also haven’t most of us seen faces in inanimate objects and then if you’re suffering with an elevated temperature the faces may move….It’s all within the normal bounds of experience and all too easy to understand this woman’s slide into insanity. I think that’s what frightens so many people about mental health problems – we wonder if it’s catching because we understand it so easily….

Or is that just me?

That formed part of my conversation with Roo too – if you’re aware that you’re unhinged does that mean that actually you’re sane? It’s a paradox…And Roo admitted that when she did her psychiatric rotation as part of her training she went to an open psych ward and didn’t know staff from patients….

Optimistic Fools

The optimistic fool…I’ve been thinking some more about that since I wrote it earlier…and maybe it’s not such a good thing…

It is easy to end up being taken for granted and generally treated in a rather shoddy way if you are of an easy going and optimistic disposition…

Hmm, this is going to get rather deep, I can see that…Okay, on the one hand it’s got to be better to always see the best in people and to be giving, kind and approachable – I think we all like to see ourselves in this way, certainly that’s how I’d like to think I am…

But the flip side of that is that you do sometimes make excuses for people because you like them and don’t want to see any bad in them – even if they are treating you appallingly – in fact I’d go so far to say that sometimes because of the general laissez faire attitude you end up actively aiding and abetting their bad behaviour – you allow yourself to be treated badly.

But then again, it’s not always your fault that someone is a total pig-headed unpleasant individual who lacks good manners and seems incapable of behaving properly.

I could muse on about this stuff for hours….

And what about when we allow ourselves to be treated badly because we have a misguided notion that if we allow them to do this to us maybe they’ll love us/stay with us/want us. Everyone wants to be loved and some people are not so good at choosing the right person to invest that love in….

And how do you know when you have found the right person to invest in, as it were? Do any of us really know? I guess we just go on faith and hope that we’ve made the right decision – a wing and a prayer…Now that makes me think of one of my favourite films – The Wings of Desire which was then made into the Hollywood version called City of Angels. The story is about an angel who falls in love with a woman and then decides to fall to earth. It’s a beautifully melancholy story and therefore hits all the right buttons when you’re in that sort of mood.