Bored? Have a new adventure!

Sometimes working freelance from home can be really great – freedom to do what you want when you want: need to go shopping? No problem, just pop into town. Want to meet up with friends for lunch? Great, just do a bit extra in the morning and you won’t even notice the hours away from the keyboard. Other times it can be just plain boring and lonely. Monday mornings are the worst without doubt, everyone else is hard at work and so should you too. No one has any time to chat on MSN – neither do you but that’s besides the point. You’ve got a stack of jobs to get done and it just seems like none of them will produce any money. It’s really easy to get sucked into the Monday downward spiral where you feel depressed by mid afternoon and end up sending out emails to all the people you haven’t spoken to for ages…..after you’ve sent the emails you remember why you haven’t spoken to them in ages – you fell out with them and were waiting for them to apologise to you……

So what’s the answer? Well, for me it’s go out….not to do some shopping, although that would be appropriate as I’m working on an article about shopping at the moment, research would be good….But no, I’m trying something else out – all in the name of writing – new adventures, experiences and so on, I’m trying my hand at being a secretarial temp….Having been taught to type at school – You must learn to type because then you will always be able to fall back on it if you don’t find a husband – yes, private education for girls…..don’t get me started….So I can type – quite fast and accurately actually….I also have loads of other office skills too, so it looks as though I can give this a try, make a little bit of money, meet people and more importantly, it will give me more to draw upon for writing!

Watch this space for the further adventures of Chickenlady – soon to be cooped up in a Battery farm office (well, it might end up feeling like a battery farm….).

Last night I went to another gig, this time to see The Trouser Trumpets , a friend of mine, Kate, plays saxophone for them and this was the first time I’d seen them play. I drove down to Dover to the Louis Armstrong pub – a fairly unique pub by today’s standards – as it is a “real” pub, a bit like the Queen Vic in Eastenders – piano in the corner, elderly locals, a fug of smoke, no stripped pine and no bottled beers that I could see either. It’s the first time in many, many months, maybe even years, that I’ve come home stinking of cigarette smoke – I don’t smoke, never have done, but I’ve always accepted it as a part of going out, until fairly recently where smoking is banned more and more and fewer people bother to smoke now, so this was a quite unique evening all round.

I met up with Jo there although she had to go home early, leaving me all alone. Not at any point did I feel uncomfortable sitting there all by myself, people chatted to me and the band were funny and entertaining – Comedy Jazz is how they describe themselves. I have a fairly eclectic taste in music and will give most things a fair hearing, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the gig. Their opening number was the theme tune to Take Hart – bringing back many childhood memories. They also did a cover version of the Beatles “Strawberry Fields Forever” but with a slight reworking of the lyrics, renaming it “Nunnery Fields for Supper” – Nunnery Fields is a road in Canterbury up near the hospital and was the site of the old workhouse and more recently the geriatric department. All in all they’re an entertaining band and I’d definitely go see them again.

Having too many glasses of wine and being badly behaved.

The girls’ night in went very well indeed. I’m afraid I can’t report back on what was said as I don’t remember, apart from a very off colour remark from Jules concerning male bodily fluids trickling down legs…three days later apparently… to which I replied, “anally retentive?” Roo nearly choked on her wine and Jules missed what I said and is still continuing to ask me why Roo was choking and I was sniggering…..

The pub crawl the following night ended up being one pub – a live band was playing, The Angry Pirates , and very good they were too. The pub was also packed out with a gang of men in suits – all Down From London to play golf – they looked like Essex Wideboys and it turned out that some of them were….I ended up being very rude to one of them – he sold Double Glazing and was rather taken with me – I told him (bearing in mind I’d had 6 or 7 glasses of wine and knew no fear by that point) that he was lucky I even looked at him, let alone spoke to him….I’m not usually like that (ever) but he was incredibly cocky and asked for it…He then gave me his room number – I laughed and told him he didn’t stand a hope in hell’s chance. Jo decided at that point to take me home, so while she waited outside for a taxi to turn up I decided to chat to a rather nice looking young chap who had a lovely Celtic design tattoo on his arm. The tattoo went up his arm, over his shoulder and onto his collar bone, he also had a perfect six-pack stomach and surprisingly the pub has a ‘no shirts off’ rule too….I’m not going into too much detail about the night mainly because I don’t remember most of the conversations I had……I know I had a lovely long chat with a really funny guy who went by the nickname of Shrek - yes, he did look a bit like him.

Very entertaining and a thoroughly nice person too, he's promised to look after Jo when she moves into town. I do also remember talking to a nice girl called Zoe who had a fab handbag and wore Max Mara perfume – I know it was that type because I asked her. I also told her if she was a man I’d fancy her because she smelled so nice and had such good taste in bags….She reminded me that if she was a man she wouldn’t have the bag and wouldn’t be wearing ladies perfume….good point….

I do remember getting back to Jo’s house and spending a good 30 minutes, at least, being ill….and blaming Jo for all of it, something along the lines of, “I told you not to let me have more than four glasses. I want to die. I feel so ill. Why did you let me drink so much wine?” et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum (and it was too). When I went to bed I passed out and then the following morning still felt drunk.

Early night last night – especially as the clocks went forward and we all lost an hour in bed. Tonight I’m off to see my friend Kate’s band play and this time I’ll be driving, so no alcohol for me – and my liver is no doubt very pleased about that.

Girls nights...

A while back I was considering the nature of friendship – both those in real life and those online. Human relationships do fascinate, confound and infuriate me all in equal measures. Tonight I’m off to have supper with my two oldest friends – the three of us were at school together and have known each other since we were all eleven – a considerable length of time, in fact apart from my family, no one has known me as long as this.

We have a huge amount of shared history with each other, obviously the school stuff, but also because over the years we have kept in touch – sometimes closely so we know what has happened in our lives. Yes it is all a bit like a Chicklit book… But there is definitely something to be said for having friends to whom you need not explain certain facts – they already know. The whole back story is there and we can remind each other of the daft things we did years ago – if only to attempt to ensure we don’t repeat our mistakes….

It’s also interesting that because of this long history with each other I wonder if we still see ourselves as schoolgirls? Is that the person they see in me? Or do they take on board how I’ve changed over the years? I’m always reminded by Jules that I had an intense hatred of the outdoors at school (based upon a couple of Duke of Edinburgh camping expeditions), yet Roo remembers the many holidays we shared throughout our teens where we spent most of the time outside and often hiking up hills and mountains or even one memorable jaunt on a boat. I’m sure we do all see and accept how we’ve changed over the years but equally it’s reassuring to be reminded of who we once were.

And these female friendships, unlike those with men are entirely secure - we don’t have the added tensions of sex and flirting. Although, that said we do talk about sex, sometimes in detail (don’t worry chaps – it is always very complementary). That’s what women do when they get together – drink large amounts of wine, discuss shoes, sex, who has got too fat/skinny, who is having an affair (they’re thin on the ground these days – people are either really happy or else scared and behaving themselves), and any of the latest gossip or even old gossip which we missed out on years ago….

Watch this space, I may report back on exactly what was said…..all names changed to protect the innocent of course….which is why I’ve used Jules and Roo’s real names….no innocence there….

Oh, and I’m off on a pub crawl on Friday night, just myself and Jo this time – busy social life at the moment – as ever the social life is like the bus service or policemen – never around when you want them and then three come along at once….Sunday night out too possibly – a friend plays in a band and we’ve been invited to the gig – we could be groupies! Only drawback is that the band member we know is called Kate…..ah well….

Endings, Beginnings and Quantum Physics

Some of you may know that I’m really quite interested in Quantum Physics (stop laughing at the back there!) I know and understand very little of it but it still fascinates me…Schroedinger’s cat and all that…The whole idea of time and how that is constructed also intrigues me: is it linear? It appears that way to us – a whole series of Now, one moment after the other, the past behind us and the future ahead. Or is it like a piece of string rolled up in a ball – so still one thing after another but at the same time parts of the string could be laying next to other sections – thus bits of time would be alongside each other….Absolutely mind boggling stuff.

Anyway, the thing I wanted to talk about today was about endings and beginnings….Throughout life we reach the end of things – end of school, end of childhood, end of student days, and so on. Each ending is approached with either joy or apprehension – Hooray, school is over! Or, Erm, I’m not longer a student – what do I do now? Each ending signifies, naturally, a new beginning.

Beginnings are by their very nature, full of promise, full of new things, new possibilities, new opportunities. As we’re approaching Easter and Springtime it’s entirely appropriate to think about new beginnings and new life, blah, blah, blah…You know the whole thing….

But back to Quantum Physics….what if the beginning isn’t….what if you’ve done it all before anyway? Would you, or could you even, do it the same way again? I wouldn’t.

Next time around (if there is a next time, and not being either Hindu, Buddhist or a particular believer in the After Life and all that, I’m not sure there will be a next time, but for the sake of argument). Next time around I will please myself first and foremost – Katherine Hepburn said that apparently – always do what you want to do – that way at least one person will be happy. Wise woman.

Next time I’m going to learn to climb when I’m in my teens. I’m going to a big industrialised city to study. I’ll run away with a circus. I’ll dye my hair, never have it cut. And I will have written at least five novels by the time I’m thirty.

Do I want to do any of those now? Not particularly. But just imagine the stories I’d have if I had done those things…..

The Battle of the Sexes

Why is it called the Battle of the Sexes? I’m not so sure that we are battling or fighting at all. What would men and women be fighting for? Supremacy? In my opinion that’s entirely the wrong way to go about things; it’s not about who’s best or in charge or even on top….and that’s not what I mean either……

I believe that on the whole men and women view each other as equals; different, but equal. And yes, we still continue to disagree on many points like sport versus shopping…although not all men are permanently fixated on sport and not all women love shopping….

But aside from any notions of equality, because that’s not what I really want to talk about anyway, is the whole idea of relationships being a battleground.

At primary school girls have long hair in plaits (well I did) and boys would chase the girls around the playground either playing Kiss Chase or just to pull on those plaits. In the classroom it was well known that if a boy liked you he would pull your plaits and deliberately attempt to trip you up if you went past him. In general if a boy was unpleasant to you it meant only one thing – he looooved you, as only an eight year old can…

Do things really change that much when we grow up and become adults?

Why do some men (and women for that matter) insist upon seeing or phoning someone and then deliberately being rude or apparently unkind to them? Why bother?

The reason I mention all of this is because another of my single friends, Tanya, has been having just this problem. A man she met continues to call her, see her and generally behave as if they are having a relationship, yet each time he speaks to her he manages to upset her with his unthinking rudeness. Well, at least, giving him the benefit of the doubt, I believe it is unthinking – I could be wrong – he could just be plain rude…

But he continues to make all of the running….Why?

It just seems as if he’s back in the playground – he runs after her and then (figuratively) pulls her pigtails, runs away and then waits until he can have another go in a day or so….

For her part my advice should be, ignore his calls: if he can only be rude why bother with him? But perhaps his brusque manner is part of his attraction for her – strange woman….

Notice I say, my advice should be….that’s because of late I have made the decision to stop handing out unwanted advice….I’m never much prepared to accept it, so why should others take it from me? I don’t live their lives, they don’t live mine…it’s so very easy to just instruct from the sidelines, but unless you’re in there experiencing it….And ultimately we’re all different….

Yes, I know that’s a huge cop-out….But until I can stand back and say, look at me, my life is perfect, I’ve cracked it, then I don’t know that my advice is worth much…

So back to the Battle of the Sexes….why can’t we all be more open and upfront about how we feel about things?

Well I know the answer already – we can’t be open and upfront because we don’t want to hurt others’ feelings…If we come out and say – I’m madly in love with you – only to hear – Oh, I’m not, I thought we were just friends…Or vice versa…someone is going to get hurt….And even if we may one day fall for someone, it’s hard to tell them, Well, actually I might fall for you one day, but I’m just not really sure right now….It’s still a bit of a brush off, isn’t it?

So we continue to pussy foot around the issues, we carry on running up, pulling pig-tails, acting all hurt, not replying to telephone calls, all the rest of it….

All in the name of ….What?

So what's Tanya going to do? Ignore him? Hope he starts being nice to her? Or listen to her female friends who all say in unison...."Huh, Men!"

Boy Band or Man Band?

Last night I watched Comic Relief – first time I’ve watched it in years and I was generally amused and entertained. Not being a big television viewer I was surprised to see that the same old faces were still churning out the same old stuff…..

I was really disappointed to see Take That miming to their last single…why?

Ok, I’ll admit it, I’m not and never have been a big TT fan – when they first appeared I remember thinking that Gary Barlow was rather cute with his bleached blond hair and tall muscular body – now all of that has disappeared…The other chaps look equally knackered and aged which I find really quite depressing because generally men manage to look just as good and in some cases, better, as they age, providing they keep themselves in reasonable shape….Maybe in the case of Jason, Mark and Howard (see, I’ve done my research!) they just had such a good time the first time around with TT that their faces are now paying the price…In fact, that’s the very excuse that Jerry Hall used this week – when asked why Mick Jagger looks godawful but she still looks fit (if the horsey look does it for you….) she said it was because during all those hard rock living days she drank only water, took no drugs and went to bed early….

There’s a quote somewhere about leading a good life without drink, drugs, cigarettes and going to bed early won’t make you live longer, but it’ll sure feel like it….

I think Jerry Hall’s secret is good genes, good make up and maybe an even better plastic surgeon.

Anyway, back to the miming…Take That, last night on Comic Relief…..

Why? Surely after all these years they can perform live? And doesn’t Gary Barlow play the piano and Mark whatshisname (sorry, the research didn’t extend that far…) plays guitar I believe…I could be wrong, probably am…But the point is, if they are a Band – yes, with a capital letter, a proper Band that tours and has fans – which we all know they do….Then why don’t they play their instruments and sing live? As a “Boy Band” it is traditional I know, to simply sit on stools and sing ropey ballads rather than provide something more aurally satisfying, which is why of course the likes of Travis, Coldplay, Snow Patrol et al can get away with looking pretty rough whereas Take That, Boyzone and the other ones have to crack out the moisturiser and foundation before anyone will let them perform…..

Hmmm….Take That ….I know they were a “Boy Band” – do they become a Man Band now?

I can see I’ve got two threads here….one about aging and aging in the public eye in particular, and one about real music and real bands as opposed to manufactured ones.

Actually, the two threads are really about the same thing – real or plastic….which is best?

Me, I’ll take real every time. It may not be perfect, it may be downright rough at times, but at least it’s genuine.

Fear

Someone very wise said that you should do something that frightens you every day. I’m not really sure what the point of that is….but maybe it’s a good thing to feel frightened daily. Fear is often irrational but also often grounded in protection of oneself.

For instance, apparently all babies have a natural fear of snakes (I have no idea where this nugget of information comes from, but I seem to remember reading it somewhere fairly recently). If that’s true then why don’t they have a natural fear of fire? Surely the average nappy-wearer in the UK has far more chance of getting burnt than of being bitten by a Black Mamba…or even our native Adder.

Adults’ fears are based upon experience – I know that large dogs have big teeth and could bite me, therefore I’m frightened of them (the ‘I’ here isn’t me – I rather like dogs, even big ones). But what about the irrational fears? Or even the slightly irrational? Like a fear of flying….seems quite rational at first – no one wants to plummet from god knows how many feet in the air, but actually the chances of that happening are tiny, therefore the fear is irrational.

How about the fears and doubts you have surreptitiously developed? Remember as a child when anything seemed possible? You could be an astronaut or ballerina if you wanted to….all you had to do was work hard and you could achieve. And then, there you are an adult and you’re not an astronaut or a ballerina. Well that’s fine if you grew up and changed you mind about what you wanted to become and you’re happy with what you’ve achieved. But what if you’ve grown up and you still want to be a ballerina? And maybe you have the skills, knowledge and capabilities to become a ballerina but for some strange reason you just can’t do it….Why? Because someone somewhere once told you that you couldn’t….

Why is it we give credence to the negative remarks? We really listen closely to them and store them up, ever ready to drag them out as good reasons for not achieving what we really want. Yet when someone pays us a complement or tells us that we can do something we seem to choose not to hear them or dismiss their opinion as flawed. Pretty soon all that’s heard is the negative stuff; all that counts is the negative stuff. And before you know it you’re full of irrational fears….

But how do you get rid of those fears when you need to?

Is it even possible to get rid of the fears?

Maybe a genius somewhere can come up with a specially designed bag into which we could throw all of those irrational fears…then the bag would just disappear and leave us fearless and able to do whatever we chose to do….it doesn’t even have to be a bag, an envelope would do, or a Tupperware container….

If any of you out there who read this blog regularly have suggestions of how to be rid of irrational fears do let me know….

Promises and Friendships

I’m feeling in a very thoughtful mood today, I’ve been considering the nature of Promises. As a child we learn about promises and how important it is not to break them. We’ve all heard or said “You promised!” at some time growing up. I wonder what it is that changes when we’re an adult that stops us from keeping those promises or from telling the promise-breakers what they’ve done.
Sometimes promises are really clear and simple - legally binding documents if you like….you will do A,B and C and in return I will do X,Y and Z….we both promise to do this. When we stop doing X,Y and Z then there are consequences to deal with, legal consequences.
But what about unspoken promises – the ones that often mean so much more and when broken, hurt far more. My friend Jo’s marriage – when that broke up over a year ago they were both hurt – they had promised to be together and to love one another always. That sort of promise is probably another one that like the legal stuff is easy to see and understand. But what about between friends? You promised to be my friend and be there for me….but weren’t….That sort of thing is far, far harder to pin down. We don’t have legal documents or written guidelines about the nature of friendships….nowhere does it say “You hereby agree as friend of …….(fill in as applicable)…. To always be available, provide a shoulder to cry upon, emotional support as needed, et cetera, et cetera (add extras as applicable)” So it’s hard to define the nature of many friendships…
Friendships between women are generally pretty easy – tell each other all the intimate details of your life, go shopping together, never suggest the other one has got fat or old, drink coffee together and by and large the friendship will be fine. Friendships between men I can only comment on from the outside (not being a man and all that….) but it would appear from outside that you tell each other the imagined details of your life – how you would like it to be or think it should be, go drinking together, constantly suggest the other one has got fat, bald, old, incapable of being found attractive by the opposite sex, drink more beer together and by and large the friendship will be fine.
But what about friendships between men and women? There are different opinions on this one….most women will tell you that they love to have male friends – it helps them to gain some insight into the men in their life. A male friend can tell women more truthfully if their bum really does look big, explain the offside rule to them, get them drunk and carry them home, and tell them rude jokes too….
But ask most men about female friends and you may hear a different story….Countless Hollywood films have been made about friends who realise they’re really in love with each other….One of them settles for just being friends but really is desperately in love with the other. Or neither realise they love each other. Perhaps it would be clearer in these Hollywood films, or here even, if the word Love was replaced by Fancy or just Desperately want to have Sex with….
Ultimately I suppose we are all sexual creatures, whether we like it or not – one of our pre-programmed reasons for being here is to reproduce ourselves – so we constantly judge new acquaintances on their suitability for that purpose – in other words, Would You?
But what does that say about our existing male/female friendships?
Hmmm….I’m still thinking about that one…. Maybe I’ll write about that tomorrow…..

Running Away

Firstly, apologies to those of you who have been waiting with baited breath for my next blog post….I know it’s been some days….but there has been a very good reason for this…

I was very kindly offered the opportunity to take some time out and go to spend a few days in beautiful Cornwall…a sort of retreat if you like….the chance to write, recharge and just Be. Not generally being the type of person given to spontaneity this was quite an offer being presented to me….so screwing up all my courage in both my sweaty little mitts I said yes and the following day found me sitting on a train from Paddington station en route to the West Country. If ever you have the chance to do this journey, take it; particularly the stretch between Exeter and Plymouth that takes in Dawlish is just quite stunning – the train tracks are almost on the beach and it seems as if you are travelling across the open sea. I have always enjoyed long train journeys – one other favourite of mine is in India – the Dusty Pink Express – the journey to Jaipur from Delhi – it’s around four to six hours in a simply carriage (no aircon), no windows, instead just bars and the train races across flat open land that seems to go on for ever. I did that journey with a cassette walkman (except it wasn’t a walkman, but you get the idea) and tapes of Simon and Garfunkel (I had a hippy music teacher who insisted we sing S&G a cappella - leaving an entire generation of convent school girls suckers for S&G and Gregorian Chant….) anyway, even now listening to them slips me back to sitting cross legged on the deep red leather train seat (it was a sleeper, so rather like sitting on a single divan), opposite me sat a family who sadly I didn’t talk to – I was too shy and too taken with the beautiful journey.
And the London to Cornwall journey is very similar in many ways – similar length, beautiful countryside again and this time an MP3 player plugged in and listening to The Cocteau Twins (highly recommended, particularly if you like ambient or chill out music). The feeling of total calm that washes over you as you watch the miles disappear and for those few precious hours you have no control, no responsibilities and instead, peace.
Cornwall itself was, as ever, stunning. I walked in the rain, got lost, wandered in towns I didn’t know, spoke to people I didn’t know, drank coffee in little cafes, went on boats…..I started reading Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer – wonderful writing; I highly recommend it – many people will pick it up just because it was banned for thirty years in the UK, the blurb says “this is a classic of erotic literature, shattering every taboo in its frank, unapologetic portrait of desire….and extravagant and rhapsodic hymn to a world of unrivalled sexuality and freedom.” So yes, there is a great deal of explicit material in it, but it’s also written with such eloquence and style and bags and bags of passion.
I will probably post more here about some of the things I thought about and wrote about while I was in Cornwall, it was quite an important adventure for me in many ways and it has certainly given me plenty of material to draw upon.