It's 17.07. Which means it's 6 hours and 53 minutes to midnight. Which means it's 6 hours 53 minutes to 2011.
I've been in a pretty thoughtful mood today, so have spent more than a fleeting second trying to figure out what this means to me. If someone were to ask me what 2010 was like, what would I say? If they were to ask what I want from 2011, what would I say? I guess both answers are pretty dependant on the mood I'm in when I'm thinking about them. When asked yesterday (?) as to my new years resolution, my snap response was 'survive'...
I'm really trying to write this with a vaguely upbeat, positive angle - new year/new start and all that jazz. It's a bit hard though, today my default position seems to be very definitely positioned at depressed.
This year's been rubbish in the love stakes - I fell for someone so utterly unobtainable it's beyond a joke. It's wonderful feeling, falling for someone, but hurts like hell knowing it's unrequited. The other news is that tomorrow the only person I've ever felt (however fleetingly) that I could love forever is getting married. I've been over him and everything that came along with him for years now. It's just odd, that's all.
Workwise, I've broken free from the shackles of Hampshire County Council. Whilst I look back very fondly at the memories I made with my fellow FABettes, I don't miss being there for one second. My dream job has had its ups and downs. I think in many ways I'm still getting used to doing a job that stretches me. It's draining, exhausting mentally, heartbreaking, frustrating as hell and I love it.
I've managed to juggle my time to get counselling back into my life. I've got a placement in a school working with 11 to 14 year olds which has been an amazing learning curve. It's relighted my passion, particularly for gestalt counselling. Taking time figuring out how to adapt the experiments and interventions I use with older young people has been very rewarding. One person I'm working with told someone at school his first session with me was like he was really listened to for the first time in his life. That's exactly why I do what I do.
I've also gone back to uni, topping up my counselling diploma to a degree. It's dizzyingly fast and furious. It's overwhelming at times, and I have felt it's taking over my life. But I feel now that I have more of a balance going on, and feel more stable about it. Little bit frightened that the future looks likely to include a masters and a PhD but I'll worry about that another day.
Gigs have been awesome, in particular the phenomenal Manic Street Preachers. Just thinking about that gig makes my skin tingle.
Family life has been up and down. Nobody's died this year. I am aware that this may sound like a peculiar thing to say. But if you knew my family death track record, you'd be impressed with this too! Mum's retired and seems more relaxed and to be enjoying life. Dad's been poorly, and to be honest the doctors still don't seem to know what's wrong with him. They do know it's not any of those scary things though. Things with my sister seem to have pottered on in the same familiar vein - I get upset over missing her and wishing she wanted me in her life more. I get angry about her and ignore her. She seems blissfully ignorant to both of these things.
The only other thing of note to mention really is that as ever, I wouldn't be here without my amazing and gorgeous friends. In particular I'm referring to Jenn and to Omar - they're both truly life savers and I owe them more that I can every possibly repay. Quite simply you're both awesome.
As for 2011... what does it bring?
It brings my gig night. It brings me tracking down a bass guitar teacher to make good use of the gorgeous guitar Omar has entrusted into my care. It brings me surviving and doing well (hopefully) in my degree. It brings me finding the courage and self confidence to join a rugby club. It brings continuing my quest to freedom through slimming world.
It's also set to include tattoo's, music, laughter and tears.
What else? Who the fuck knows? My only resolution is to go into it as positively as I can and to keep fighting that self-destructive part of my soul that wants to drag me down.
As part of my job I'm faced everyday with safeguarding the vulnerable young people I work with. The difficulty with it though, is that sometimes they don't want to be safeguarded. An outsider would probably initially think that those young people weren't quite 'right', and be wondering why that person would ever not want to be helped out of a bad situation. Today I had one of those incidents... We were duty bound to break confidentiality in order to safeguard this particular young person which was against their wishes. For them the situation they are currently in is the perceived less of two evils.
At what point do we decide we know what's best for someone? I mean this as a general question as opposed to being just about this incident. Why do we feel we know what is the right thing to do because we've placed ourselves in a position of assumed authority, or because we're older, or even because we work for the government? Where did all the empowerment and autonomy go?
At what point do we decide we know what's best for someone? I mean this as a general question as opposed to being just about this incident. Why do we feel we know what is the right thing to do because we've placed ourselves in a position of assumed authority, or because we're older, or even because we work for the government? Where did all the empowerment and autonomy go?
I'm largely immersed at the moment in a myriad of different medium to learn as much as I can about the world of Transgender in attempts to learn and understand as much as possible before putting pen to paper for my dissertation. Tonight I've been reading about the Gender Recognition Panel that was set up in 2005 in response to the 2004 Gender Recognition Act. I'm genuinely at a loss to decide whether I think it's great that the government have set this up, or saddened that it's had to be set up in the first place...
I Only Exist To Entertain, To Prevent Masses To Awake
Bands: Threat Signal, Raunchy, Sybreed
Venue: The Joiners, Southampton
Date: 15 November 2010
It's no secret that I LOVE going to gigs in The Joiners, so I won't bore any readers with another account of why it's such an awesome venue and the feeling that I get every time I'm there. It's a feeling though that seems to resonate through the music of those playing too. It's a special venue that carries with it the ghosts of amazing bands that have played there in time gone by and seems to seep into the performances you're watching, giving them an extra edge or energy.
Not that any of the bands I saw tonight were in need of any additional energy! The turn out wasn't fabulous given that not only was it a cold Monday night in November, but also that The Deftones were playing Southampton Guildhall at the same time. This didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the guys playing though, they gave themselves 100% in each track.
As good as Threat Signal were (and I do recommend anyone with a fondness of music from a metal vein should look them up and check them out live), for me the night belonged to Sybreed. Their first British gig was Download, which in itself suggests the talent that they have. They're a new band on my radar, and I couldn't be more thankful to Chris for asking me to go along, they stand a very good chance of becoming a firm favourite. They played with energy, passion, humour, dedication and synthesis. Each member of the band belonged on that stage, they all added a unique dimension and they all had their moments to shine. Only knowing a couple of tracks they played didn't diminish in any way how much I enjoyed the gig. It's a pretty good sign that I don't find my mind wondering if the majority of songs are ones I don't know.
It was also the first gig I've been to for probably ten years with the beautiful IzzI. I can't say how glad I am that she's moved back to town and I have a fellow metal lover to gig locally with once again!
Venue: The Joiners, Southampton
Date: 15 November 2010
It's no secret that I LOVE going to gigs in The Joiners, so I won't bore any readers with another account of why it's such an awesome venue and the feeling that I get every time I'm there. It's a feeling though that seems to resonate through the music of those playing too. It's a special venue that carries with it the ghosts of amazing bands that have played there in time gone by and seems to seep into the performances you're watching, giving them an extra edge or energy.
Not that any of the bands I saw tonight were in need of any additional energy! The turn out wasn't fabulous given that not only was it a cold Monday night in November, but also that The Deftones were playing Southampton Guildhall at the same time. This didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the guys playing though, they gave themselves 100% in each track.
As good as Threat Signal were (and I do recommend anyone with a fondness of music from a metal vein should look them up and check them out live), for me the night belonged to Sybreed. Their first British gig was Download, which in itself suggests the talent that they have. They're a new band on my radar, and I couldn't be more thankful to Chris for asking me to go along, they stand a very good chance of becoming a firm favourite. They played with energy, passion, humour, dedication and synthesis. Each member of the band belonged on that stage, they all added a unique dimension and they all had their moments to shine. Only knowing a couple of tracks they played didn't diminish in any way how much I enjoyed the gig. It's a pretty good sign that I don't find my mind wondering if the majority of songs are ones I don't know.
It was also the first gig I've been to for probably ten years with the beautiful IzzI. I can't say how glad I am that she's moved back to town and I have a fellow metal lover to gig locally with once again!
We Steal That Smile From Your Face
Bit on edge today. My Dad is having blood tests to see if they can work out what is going on for him. I'm not going to go into details on what is wrong - that's his stuff to tell the world about in his own way. People who read this who know me will have a fair idea what I'm referring to anyway.
Naturally I'm scared of what they might find. Conversely though, I'm scared of what they don't find too. If they don't find something then what's making him ill? How can they make it better if they don't know what it is in the first place?
I'm trying to not fixate too much on the fact that my Grandad had stomach cancer and died...
Naturally I'm scared of what they might find. Conversely though, I'm scared of what they don't find too. If they don't find something then what's making him ill? How can they make it better if they don't know what it is in the first place?
I'm trying to not fixate too much on the fact that my Grandad had stomach cancer and died...
Scream To A Sigh
Pictures of Manic Street Preachers (honest) at Southampton Guildhall 19 October 2010
Reading Meme
Do you snack while reading? > I generally don't when I'm reading, I don't like to get my books mucky! A cuppa or a squash are usually near by though.
What is your favourite drink while reading? > See previous question!
Do you tend to mark your books while you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you? > I write and highlight all the time in text books. In novels or poetry books etc., then I usually copy out things that capture me into a gorgeous book of handmade paper that's full of quotes and things.
How do you keep your place? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book open flat? > Book marks usually, or the sleeve flap bit if they're hard back books (which I generally don't like reading).
Fiction, non-fiction or both? > Both. I usually have at least one fiction book, one non-fiction (usually a history book) and several counselling text books on the go at the same time. And, having rediscovered my passion for poetry recently, I have a book of poetry on the go too.
Do you tend to read to the end of a chapter or can you stop anywhere? > I prefer to read to the end of a chapter, but if I can't then it's to a paragraph break or end of a page.
Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you? > Nope, if I'm more than a chapter into it then I make myself persevere. I generally feel like I owe it to the author to see where they're going with the storyline.
If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away? > It's usually pretty easy to figure it out in a fiction book I think. In text books and it's jargon then I'll look it up.
What are you currently reading? > Fiction: Jump! by Jilly Cooper (totally not ashamed of being a complete Jilly Cooper addict), Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris and Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. Poetry: The Blue Book by Owen Sheers. Non-fiction: Handbook Of Counselling In Organizations by Michael Carroll and Michael Walton, and Auschwitz by Laurence Rees (still! It's fantastic, but obviously pretty bleak reading, so I dip in and out of it).
What is the last book you bought? > I bought 4 at Cheltenham Literature Festival - Nigella Christmas (so I can make Christmas presents), The Blue Book by Owen Sheers, One Day by David Nicholls and White Ravens by Owen Sheers.
Do you have a favourite time/place to read? ? Curled up on the sofa when it's teeming down with rain outside. I love reading on the weekend when I don't have uni work to do as it's a guilt free pleasure then.
Do you prefer series books or stand-alones? > Either. Really depends on the stories and the authors.
Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over? > I don't think there's many people I didn't recommend The Timetravellers Wife to. Books like To Kill A Mockingbird, The Bell Jar, The Great Gatsby and Catcher In The Rye are predictable classics, but I love them all, so would recommend them to anyone. Generally speaking though, I don't like recommending books because it's so much about personal tastes.
How do you organize your books (by genre, title, author’s last name, etc.)? > Broadly speaking, they're ordered by what they are - cookery books are together, as are history, counselling, poetry etc. Then if I have more than one book from an author, then they're together. Other than that, I have a couple of shelves that where books are put together purely because they're the same height! I'm nothing like as anal about my books as I am about my CD's.
What is your favourite drink while reading? > See previous question!
Do you tend to mark your books while you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you? > I write and highlight all the time in text books. In novels or poetry books etc., then I usually copy out things that capture me into a gorgeous book of handmade paper that's full of quotes and things.
How do you keep your place? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book open flat? > Book marks usually, or the sleeve flap bit if they're hard back books (which I generally don't like reading).
Fiction, non-fiction or both? > Both. I usually have at least one fiction book, one non-fiction (usually a history book) and several counselling text books on the go at the same time. And, having rediscovered my passion for poetry recently, I have a book of poetry on the go too.
Do you tend to read to the end of a chapter or can you stop anywhere? > I prefer to read to the end of a chapter, but if I can't then it's to a paragraph break or end of a page.
Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you? > Nope, if I'm more than a chapter into it then I make myself persevere. I generally feel like I owe it to the author to see where they're going with the storyline.
If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away? > It's usually pretty easy to figure it out in a fiction book I think. In text books and it's jargon then I'll look it up.
What are you currently reading? > Fiction: Jump! by Jilly Cooper (totally not ashamed of being a complete Jilly Cooper addict), Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris and Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. Poetry: The Blue Book by Owen Sheers. Non-fiction: Handbook Of Counselling In Organizations by Michael Carroll and Michael Walton, and Auschwitz by Laurence Rees (still! It's fantastic, but obviously pretty bleak reading, so I dip in and out of it).
What is the last book you bought? > I bought 4 at Cheltenham Literature Festival - Nigella Christmas (so I can make Christmas presents), The Blue Book by Owen Sheers, One Day by David Nicholls and White Ravens by Owen Sheers.
Do you have a favourite time/place to read? ? Curled up on the sofa when it's teeming down with rain outside. I love reading on the weekend when I don't have uni work to do as it's a guilt free pleasure then.
Do you prefer series books or stand-alones? > Either. Really depends on the stories and the authors.
Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over? > I don't think there's many people I didn't recommend The Timetravellers Wife to. Books like To Kill A Mockingbird, The Bell Jar, The Great Gatsby and Catcher In The Rye are predictable classics, but I love them all, so would recommend them to anyone. Generally speaking though, I don't like recommending books because it's so much about personal tastes.
How do you organize your books (by genre, title, author’s last name, etc.)? > Broadly speaking, they're ordered by what they are - cookery books are together, as are history, counselling, poetry etc. Then if I have more than one book from an author, then they're together. Other than that, I have a couple of shelves that where books are put together purely because they're the same height! I'm nothing like as anal about my books as I am about my CD's.
"Missing Jack was one more feeling that implanted itself into the general fabric of Tully's kingsize quilt of pain; her mosaic, her handmade patchwork. Her stained glass soul hurt in every one of its intricate pieces, and she couldn't give adequate vent to any of its particulars."
Tully
Paulina Simons
Tully
Paulina Simons
Might As Well Jump, Jump!
http://jumpinginartmuseums.blogspot.com/
This blog is quirky, and weird and ultimately pretty cool!
This blog is quirky, and weird and ultimately pretty cool!
Feelin Like A Freak On A Leash, Feelin Like I Have No Release
MOSHPIT - Dan Witz
http://24flinching.com/word/headline/moshpit-dan-witz/
Mosh Pit's are curious things, when you're in the middle of one it's like there's a collective conscious, the pit takes on a life of it's own with a strange symbiosis of polarities - everyone fighting and pushing against one another yet connecting and in sync at the same time. The person next to you is as likely to knock you down as pick you up and keep you safe.
This is just one of a series of pictures by Dan Witz that for me capture the very essence of the Mosh Pit. Looking at the expressions of the faces, the angles and twists of the bodies you can read the story of the pit; you can almost feel the music pulsating through each and every one of them. And that's what it's ultimately about: the music. For the true MetalHead it's not about punching someone or ripping out some one's piercing or giving yourself concussion from headbanging too severely, it's all about the music. It's about it overtaking you, feeling it pulse through your veins and your heart beating in time with the thumping bass. It's about feeling finally like you belong.
You have translated
pieces of my heart that I
have never understood.
Tyler Knott
betterthanfine.tumblr.com
![[TwitrPix Photo]](http://img.twitrpix.com/b50x)
Should I Stay Or Should I Go?
When I finished uni, I desperately wanted to stay in Cardiff. South Wales has always felt like home to me, it's where my heartbeat feels in sync with the wind in the trees and the hammers deep within the mines. I feel the dreams of ancestors long gone whispering in the wind, comforting me and reminding me I'm not alone.
Ostensibly though, what I long for when I dream of moving there is no longer there. The bungalow my Mum grew up in will soon be filled with the laughter and noise of another family, the only physical connections left in Pontnewydd now are the headstones and plaques marking the final resting places of grandparents, aunts, uncles and great-grandparents so much adored and so much missed. The parks I played in as a child, the canal we walked alongside, the shop that still bares the name my Great-great Grandparents gave it, the street named after them all still exist, but is that enough?
'No' is the answer, that's not enough. Moving somewhere in attempts to hang onto something I no longer have is a pointless use of a life. The three years I was in Cardiff were amongst the happiest in my life - that escape from the stifling suffocation of the village I grew up in was like a freedom I'd never experienced before. For the first time I began to understand who I was and forge an identity for myself based on who I understood myself to be. Cardiff meant I could breathe again. Despite it being many years since any family had lived in Cardiff and walked the streets of Cathays and Roath, I still felt a safety I so connect to that part of my heritage. I didn't need to be in Pontnewydd to feel like I belonged.
Fair Oak is my home, it's home because there's a familiarity about it, I know every inch of it and understand how it works. My parents are here, living in the house my sister and I grew up in. The flat I own and live in are here. Uni is near by, and my job just a bit further away. That's all here, but my heart isn't.
For me it's that age old battle between head and heart. The romantic in me wants my heart to take control, throw caution to the wind and discover happiness in all its wonderful colours and forms. This isn't one of those occasions where my heart wins though; at least not today. Today my job and uni and mortgage have won the battle.
Ostensibly though, what I long for when I dream of moving there is no longer there. The bungalow my Mum grew up in will soon be filled with the laughter and noise of another family, the only physical connections left in Pontnewydd now are the headstones and plaques marking the final resting places of grandparents, aunts, uncles and great-grandparents so much adored and so much missed. The parks I played in as a child, the canal we walked alongside, the shop that still bares the name my Great-great Grandparents gave it, the street named after them all still exist, but is that enough?
'No' is the answer, that's not enough. Moving somewhere in attempts to hang onto something I no longer have is a pointless use of a life. The three years I was in Cardiff were amongst the happiest in my life - that escape from the stifling suffocation of the village I grew up in was like a freedom I'd never experienced before. For the first time I began to understand who I was and forge an identity for myself based on who I understood myself to be. Cardiff meant I could breathe again. Despite it being many years since any family had lived in Cardiff and walked the streets of Cathays and Roath, I still felt a safety I so connect to that part of my heritage. I didn't need to be in Pontnewydd to feel like I belonged.
Fair Oak is my home, it's home because there's a familiarity about it, I know every inch of it and understand how it works. My parents are here, living in the house my sister and I grew up in. The flat I own and live in are here. Uni is near by, and my job just a bit further away. That's all here, but my heart isn't.
For me it's that age old battle between head and heart. The romantic in me wants my heart to take control, throw caution to the wind and discover happiness in all its wonderful colours and forms. This isn't one of those occasions where my heart wins though; at least not today. Today my job and uni and mortgage have won the battle.
Mametz Wood
This is a completely gorgeously written poem by Owen Sheers, with a short explanation first of the story behind it...
"I wrote this next poem, ‘Mametz Wood’, when I went to the Somme battlefield to make a short film about two Welsh writers who had fought at this place. The two writers were called David Jones and Wyn Griffith, and they wrote very very different accounts of this dreadful battle, but it was a strange battle because there seemed to be lots of poets present: it was also where Robert Graves was wounded; Siegfried Sassoon actually watched the battle, so it’s a battlefield of the Somme that appears again and again in memoirs of poets and actually in their poetry, and I really wrote this because while I was there they uncovered a shallow grave of twenty Allied soldiers who had been buried very very quickly but whoever had buried them had taken the time to actually link their arms, arm-in-arm, and when I saw a photograph of this grave I just knew that it was one of those images that had burned itself onto my mind and I knew that I would want to write about it eventually. As it happens I did, but the poem took a long time to surface very much in the same way that those elements of the battle are still surfacing through the fields eighty-five years later."
Mametz Wood
For years afterwards the farmers found them -
the wasted young, turning up under their plough blades
as they tended the land back into itself.
A chit of bone, the china plate of a shoulder blade,
the relic of a finger, the blown
and broken bird’s egg of a skull,
all mimicked now in flint, breaking blue in white
across this field where they were told to walk, not run,
towards the wood and its nesting machine guns.
And even now the earth stands sentinel,
reaching back into itself for reminders of what happened
like a wound working a foreign body to the surface of the skin,
This morning, twenty men buried in one long grave,
a broken mosaic of bone linked arm in arm,
their skeletons paused mid dance-macabre
in boots that outlasted them,
their socketed heads tilted back at an angle
and their jaws, those that have them, dropped open.
As if the notes they had sung
have only now, with this unearthing,
slipped from their absent tongues.
"I wrote this next poem, ‘Mametz Wood’, when I went to the Somme battlefield to make a short film about two Welsh writers who had fought at this place. The two writers were called David Jones and Wyn Griffith, and they wrote very very different accounts of this dreadful battle, but it was a strange battle because there seemed to be lots of poets present: it was also where Robert Graves was wounded; Siegfried Sassoon actually watched the battle, so it’s a battlefield of the Somme that appears again and again in memoirs of poets and actually in their poetry, and I really wrote this because while I was there they uncovered a shallow grave of twenty Allied soldiers who had been buried very very quickly but whoever had buried them had taken the time to actually link their arms, arm-in-arm, and when I saw a photograph of this grave I just knew that it was one of those images that had burned itself onto my mind and I knew that I would want to write about it eventually. As it happens I did, but the poem took a long time to surface very much in the same way that those elements of the battle are still surfacing through the fields eighty-five years later."
Mametz Wood
For years afterwards the farmers found them -
the wasted young, turning up under their plough blades
as they tended the land back into itself.
A chit of bone, the china plate of a shoulder blade,
the relic of a finger, the blown
and broken bird’s egg of a skull,
all mimicked now in flint, breaking blue in white
across this field where they were told to walk, not run,
towards the wood and its nesting machine guns.
And even now the earth stands sentinel,
reaching back into itself for reminders of what happened
like a wound working a foreign body to the surface of the skin,
This morning, twenty men buried in one long grave,
a broken mosaic of bone linked arm in arm,
their skeletons paused mid dance-macabre
in boots that outlasted them,
their socketed heads tilted back at an angle
and their jaws, those that have them, dropped open.
As if the notes they had sung
have only now, with this unearthing,
slipped from their absent tongues.
Who Am I? To Be Blind
I didn't write this quote, I read it on her0in-chic, but I love it - pretty much sums up everything I'd have written in a blog anyway...
And the worst thing is, you can’t tell. You can’t tell that the person beside you may be heart broken. You can’t tell if they are hurting all over. You can’t tell if they’re struggling to smile. You can’t if they just want to break down and cry. And the sad thing is; they wish you could tell.
And the worst thing is, you can’t tell. You can’t tell that the person beside you may be heart broken. You can’t tell if they are hurting all over. You can’t tell if they’re struggling to smile. You can’t if they just want to break down and cry. And the sad thing is; they wish you could tell.
A Soul In Tension That's Learning To Fly
Becoming a counsellor isn't a 9-5 job where you start it when you walk in, do the job and you leave it when you close the door behind you. You can't detach yourself from your work because knowing yourself and being aware of where you are in the processes is essential. Going back to studying counselling is exhilarating and exhausting, driving and draining all at once. On a Thursday evening my mind is buzzing with thoughts and increased awareness of who I am, how I am, where I am. It's also more tired than it's ever really been before. I thought having done the diploma and doing so much personal development work through that, and being a qualified counsellor, and having breezed through a degree before, that this degree wouldn't have such a huge impact. Got that one wrong then. Four weeks in and 36 hours of bloody intense work about counselling in contexts and I've got far more questions than I have answers. Today we were looking at the impact of parallel processing between client/counsellor/organisation. I've been feeling very unsettled in my life these last few weeks and not sure why. I had a light bulb moment today and realised parallel processing is going on between what I'm learning and how my life feels. Uni is fast, and busy, and intense, and scary, and overwhelming, and great, and exhausting, and lacking in time, and full of people I'm not sure on where I stand with, and limited contact to close friends, and revisiting introjects I'd rather pretend I didn't know about, and a huge feeling of responsibility to my job. Those words can all be used to describe exactly how my life feels too. Realising this has brought some degree of comfort - it's good to know what's causing these feelings and what they're actually about. Next step, figuring out how to ease the anxiety causing bits attached to uni and to work on grounding myself while I'm there to help it's affects on my world outside the classroom.
Let Us Pause In Life's Pleasures And Count Its Many Tears
A few days ago I wrote a blog off-loading about feeling let down and unloved by my sister. Events this week have put this into perspective somewhat. It's fair to say if I had to pick one of the hardest weeks of my life, this would be up there in my top ten for sure. I'm not going into details for a number of reasons, but in brief the cause of this upset being a few incidents at work around suicide and me feeling very helpless to limit the completely desperate pain someone was feeling. I don't think I've ever heard pain and complete desolation quite like that which was clear in the sound of their crying.
Wednesday lunchtime I'd had about as much as I could handle, and went for some fresh air (ahem, fag break - yes I've quit but I needed one so don't judge!). The tears started flowing and without consciously deciding to I rang my sister. She was calm, listened to me cry, talked to me about how I was feeling. She was soft and caring, yet practical about things in order to help me find a less wobbly place. Today she text, asking how I was feeling and if I was having a better day today. She may not ring for a chat, or text on situations like I wrote of before, but when she knows I'm in pain, she's there for me. And that's what's important in all this right? Sure it would be great if she thought of me randomly and picked up the phone, but then I'm making a judgement here that because I do it that it's the way to do things. When I need her though, she's always there, and that's what's brilliant about my sister.
Also, just as a follow on from that I want to mention my friends. I often feel pretty isolated and alone in this world. I know in reality I'm not, but that's my paranoia and low self worth raising it's head up there. This week my amazingly supportive and much leaned on best friend has found the words and ways to say things that get through to me in a way that pretty much nobody else can do. My colleagues have proved themselves to be far more than colleagues - sometimes it's ace working in a caring profession! And Omar with his post-it's that made me raise the only smile I could manage on Wednesday. So thank you, you're support and love has got me through these last few days. I owe you.
Wednesday lunchtime I'd had about as much as I could handle, and went for some fresh air (ahem, fag break - yes I've quit but I needed one so don't judge!). The tears started flowing and without consciously deciding to I rang my sister. She was calm, listened to me cry, talked to me about how I was feeling. She was soft and caring, yet practical about things in order to help me find a less wobbly place. Today she text, asking how I was feeling and if I was having a better day today. She may not ring for a chat, or text on situations like I wrote of before, but when she knows I'm in pain, she's there for me. And that's what's important in all this right? Sure it would be great if she thought of me randomly and picked up the phone, but then I'm making a judgement here that because I do it that it's the way to do things. When I need her though, she's always there, and that's what's brilliant about my sister.
Also, just as a follow on from that I want to mention my friends. I often feel pretty isolated and alone in this world. I know in reality I'm not, but that's my paranoia and low self worth raising it's head up there. This week my amazingly supportive and much leaned on best friend has found the words and ways to say things that get through to me in a way that pretty much nobody else can do. My colleagues have proved themselves to be far more than colleagues - sometimes it's ace working in a caring profession! And Omar with his post-it's that made me raise the only smile I could manage on Wednesday. So thank you, you're support and love has got me through these last few days. I owe you.
Keep Talkin' Happy Talk
A year ago this weekend my Gran died. By day it's a year today, by date a year tomorrow. I had Gran in my life for eight years longer than any other grandparent - she had eight years more of visits, letters, phone calls, post-cards and random drop-ins. Yet I feel like I hardly had a chance to tell her anything. I spoke to her every day for six months after my Grandad died, partly because she needed that contact and my Mum was too deep in her grief to do it. But mostly, it was because I wanted to. She became harder work as she got older - her opinions and old fashioned views became more entrenched, but I genuinely enjoyed her company. So today, making it over a year since I last spoke to her (it breaks my heart that I don't know what the last conversation I had with her was), I want to pick up that phone and natter with her so badly it makes my heart ache.
If I could call her, and have one more conversation, what would I say? Would I tell her I love her and that she's been an amazing teacher and inspiration? Would I ask her to re-tell all those stories about her life with my Grandad that I've heard so many times before? Would I fill her in on my job and uni because I know how proud sheis was of everything I did? I don't think I'd do any of those. My favourite times talking to Gran were when we talked about everything and nothing, we put the world to rights and swapped recipes, criticised the politicians and praised the celebs on Strictly Come Dancing, we'd make each other laugh - so much laughter. If I could talk to her, one last time, I'd make sure it was the best conversation ever: it would be like every other conversation we had where if you asked me what we'd spoken about I wouldn't be able to really tell you, but I'd know we'd had a lovely time chatting.
There aren't words to explain how much it hurts to know that's never going to happen.
If I could call her, and have one more conversation, what would I say? Would I tell her I love her and that she's been an amazing teacher and inspiration? Would I ask her to re-tell all those stories about her life with my Grandad that I've heard so many times before? Would I fill her in on my job and uni because I know how proud she
There aren't words to explain how much it hurts to know that's never going to happen.
We're The Children Of The Korn (Stop Fucking With Me)
Anybody who knows me in the world outside the Internet (yes, that's right kids, there IS a world away from the computer screen) will know family is something that's caused me a fair bit of heartache over the years. Honestly though, I don't know of anybody whose family-life is actually 'normal' - whatever normal actually means.
Sometimes I wish I could walk away from my family and never look back; just cut them out of my life and cut away all the pain and trauma they cause me, and live a simpler life without them. Unfortunately it's not that easy for me, trust me, I've tried that route and I can't switch off my emotions like that. Or maybe I don't want to. Maybe somewhere within me is the happy girl from my childhood that saw family as a happy, safe, fun and loving place to be and isn't ready to give that up yet.
Over the years the main cause of conflict in my family has swapped around a bit - starting with my aunt, then my dad for many years, another aunt and my sister. I actually have a lot of respect now for that first aunt. Me and my Dad can be a bit volatile (we both have a tendency to be very opinionated and stubborn) but on the whole it's a pretty happy set up. So I should have some hope for the other aunt and my sister, right? This is going to sound cold, but I'm just not that bothered about sorting things with my aunt. I don't see her often, and don't miss the fact that I don't see her either.
My sister though, that's another matter. I never seem to be able to walk away from her. I'm like that proverbial moth going back time and again to the flame that burns it every time. She has the ability to hurt me like pretty much nobody else on earth can. On the odd occasion she graces home with her presence I'm like a fucking puppy around her, bringing her toys and doing stupid things on the off chance that she'll throw some affection my way. I don't want her calling me every day, or us living in each other's pockets - it would be suffocating and is a totally unrealistic expectation. What I do want is to have a sister who picks up the phone or texts me occasionally because she wants me in her life. I finished one of my jobs on Thursday; it was an emotional and actually quite hard day. I did get a text from her - asking me if a friend of mine could get someone she knows on TV (long and quite dull story I'm not boring you with). She knew it was when I was finishing work, and she knows how hard I find endings. Not a word about that though, instead it was about her. Always about her. Actually that's a lie, it's always about her or my aunt and her kids and grandkids.
I think about my sister, I call her, I do things for her, I love her and I want her in my life. I thought that's what siblings did for each other. Apparently not.
Sometimes I wish I could walk away from my family and never look back; just cut them out of my life and cut away all the pain and trauma they cause me, and live a simpler life without them. Unfortunately it's not that easy for me, trust me, I've tried that route and I can't switch off my emotions like that. Or maybe I don't want to. Maybe somewhere within me is the happy girl from my childhood that saw family as a happy, safe, fun and loving place to be and isn't ready to give that up yet.
Over the years the main cause of conflict in my family has swapped around a bit - starting with my aunt, then my dad for many years, another aunt and my sister. I actually have a lot of respect now for that first aunt. Me and my Dad can be a bit volatile (we both have a tendency to be very opinionated and stubborn) but on the whole it's a pretty happy set up. So I should have some hope for the other aunt and my sister, right? This is going to sound cold, but I'm just not that bothered about sorting things with my aunt. I don't see her often, and don't miss the fact that I don't see her either.
My sister though, that's another matter. I never seem to be able to walk away from her. I'm like that proverbial moth going back time and again to the flame that burns it every time. She has the ability to hurt me like pretty much nobody else on earth can. On the odd occasion she graces home with her presence I'm like a fucking puppy around her, bringing her toys and doing stupid things on the off chance that she'll throw some affection my way. I don't want her calling me every day, or us living in each other's pockets - it would be suffocating and is a totally unrealistic expectation. What I do want is to have a sister who picks up the phone or texts me occasionally because she wants me in her life. I finished one of my jobs on Thursday; it was an emotional and actually quite hard day. I did get a text from her - asking me if a friend of mine could get someone she knows on TV (long and quite dull story I'm not boring you with). She knew it was when I was finishing work, and she knows how hard I find endings. Not a word about that though, instead it was about her. Always about her. Actually that's a lie, it's always about her or my aunt and her kids and grandkids.
I think about my sister, I call her, I do things for her, I love her and I want her in my life. I thought that's what siblings did for each other. Apparently not.
Rob Em All Naafi, ROB EM ALL (NAAFI)
The final installment in the mixtape trilogy, Rob's mixtape...
I Need You Tonight - Professor Green NICE!! In theory, I shouldn't like this song, but I can't not like it. It may not come as a surprise given the track name that this song samples the always fantastic INXS track. This is enough to sell it to me. PG himself did sound like a poor mans Eminem though.
White Diamonds - Friendly Fires I really like this track. It's quite pacey, it's lively and holds my interest. A well put together number in my opinion.
We Want You - New York Pony Club We're back to my age old issue with female vocalists here. I think the vocals get a bit drowned by the music that isn't really good enough in my opinion to stand alone without lyrical back-up. Don't get me wrong, it's not awful. It's just not my cup of tea. Also, being a song I'm just not interested in, it does seem to last a really long time!
Catch The Sun - Doves The last time I had anything to do with Doves I was in college and listening to the likes of Soulfly, Slayer, Korn, Marilyn Manson and Sepultura. Clearly Doves didn't really fit into my musical world at that point. The question is, do they now? Simple answer, I think maybe they do. Which, trust me, isn't an easy thing to admit, and will probably open me up to endless mocking from my indie-loving friends... This track does exactly what it says on the indie tin: it's jangly, pretty, has harmony bits, soft guitars, and some kind of tambourine.
Make It Wit Chu - Queens Of The Stone Age Aah, QOTS, a band that doesn't embarrass the metal-head within to admit liking. Happy days! It's a classy song, very well produced, and beautifully well executed by Josh Homme et al.
Crystallised - The XX Oh Rob, you were doing so well there... Really really not my cup of tea, sorry!
Dayvan Cowboy - Boards Of Canada It took a lot of self control to not skip this as it began, but I made a rule that I had to listen to every song all the way through, so I did.
Hayling - FC Kahuna See above comment. Just can't get excited by this in the slightest I'm afraid.
Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones I love The Rolling Stones. For me they're far more interesting than The Beatles; their music has an edge and a darkness to it that appeals to me. Paint It Black is still my favourite ever TRS track, but this may very well be in second place. Very good mixtape song choice.
Old Man - Neil Young Neil Young is one of a selection of artists that I grew up with. Not literally. Man that would have been cool... So the chances of me not liking this were very slim. This song sounds musically so simplistic which means you don't get distracted from the lyrics which are as relevant today as they were in 1972 (?). It's about realising how two people really aren't that different despite the age gap, how they feel the same things and think the same thoughts and need the same needs.
Paper Heart - Turin Brakes Now this was a surprise track for me. I don't generally have much time for Turin Brakes, but I do actually like this one. I don't know I could listen to a whole heap of it, but I like this as a stand alone song.
If You Stayed Over - Bonobo Starts off like Disney crossed with Native American peace pipes. Then seems to go into an oriental vibe before going elsewhere again. A bit confusing but not necessarily in a bad way. Glad it's short though, not sure I could cope with a long track!
PS, a bag of haribo for anyone who figures where the blog entry title comes from... :)
I Need You Tonight - Professor Green NICE!! In theory, I shouldn't like this song, but I can't not like it. It may not come as a surprise given the track name that this song samples the always fantastic INXS track. This is enough to sell it to me. PG himself did sound like a poor mans Eminem though.
White Diamonds - Friendly Fires I really like this track. It's quite pacey, it's lively and holds my interest. A well put together number in my opinion.
We Want You - New York Pony Club We're back to my age old issue with female vocalists here. I think the vocals get a bit drowned by the music that isn't really good enough in my opinion to stand alone without lyrical back-up. Don't get me wrong, it's not awful. It's just not my cup of tea. Also, being a song I'm just not interested in, it does seem to last a really long time!
Catch The Sun - Doves The last time I had anything to do with Doves I was in college and listening to the likes of Soulfly, Slayer, Korn, Marilyn Manson and Sepultura. Clearly Doves didn't really fit into my musical world at that point. The question is, do they now? Simple answer, I think maybe they do. Which, trust me, isn't an easy thing to admit, and will probably open me up to endless mocking from my indie-loving friends... This track does exactly what it says on the indie tin: it's jangly, pretty, has harmony bits, soft guitars, and some kind of tambourine.
Make It Wit Chu - Queens Of The Stone Age Aah, QOTS, a band that doesn't embarrass the metal-head within to admit liking. Happy days! It's a classy song, very well produced, and beautifully well executed by Josh Homme et al.
Crystallised - The XX Oh Rob, you were doing so well there... Really really not my cup of tea, sorry!
Dayvan Cowboy - Boards Of Canada It took a lot of self control to not skip this as it began, but I made a rule that I had to listen to every song all the way through, so I did.
Hayling - FC Kahuna See above comment. Just can't get excited by this in the slightest I'm afraid.
Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones I love The Rolling Stones. For me they're far more interesting than The Beatles; their music has an edge and a darkness to it that appeals to me. Paint It Black is still my favourite ever TRS track, but this may very well be in second place. Very good mixtape song choice.
Old Man - Neil Young Neil Young is one of a selection of artists that I grew up with. Not literally. Man that would have been cool... So the chances of me not liking this were very slim. This song sounds musically so simplistic which means you don't get distracted from the lyrics which are as relevant today as they were in 1972 (?). It's about realising how two people really aren't that different despite the age gap, how they feel the same things and think the same thoughts and need the same needs.
Paper Heart - Turin Brakes Now this was a surprise track for me. I don't generally have much time for Turin Brakes, but I do actually like this one. I don't know I could listen to a whole heap of it, but I like this as a stand alone song.
If You Stayed Over - Bonobo Starts off like Disney crossed with Native American peace pipes. Then seems to go into an oriental vibe before going elsewhere again. A bit confusing but not necessarily in a bad way. Glad it's short though, not sure I could cope with a long track!
PS, a bag of haribo for anyone who figures where the blog entry title comes from... :)
Their Ain't No Motive For This Crime, Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine
This is part two of a three part blog entry... see last entry to explain why...
The critique this time is on Jenn's contribution:
Ready To Start - Arcade Fire My first thought was along the lines of 'seriously? I have to listen to this again??' but by the end of it I've come to the conclusion that it's a grower of a song, and maybe (just maybe) I'd like to be able to sing along to it. (so apologies Omar, for being very critical of it on yours)
Bloodbuzz Ohio - The National The singers voice reminded me of Nick Cave, which is always going to be a good thing in my book. The song is unusual, it captured my interest from the start, and I loved the contrast between the jangly music and the bleakness of his voice. I was sad it ended.
Ambling Alp - Yeasayer It made my feet dance! I like it, it's cheery and electronica and the wobbly voice reminded me of Robin Gibb on 'I Started A Joke'.
Walk Tall - Kele This track has a military vibe which is fresh and modern, but not modern in a crappy way that so much music that saturates commercial radio. I think long term it's the kind of song I'll end up totally loving or getting totally annoyed with.
Cold War - Janelle Monae I've heard a bit of this song on Jenn's blog before and switched it off because I really really didn't like what I heard. Turns out it gets worse though! I will very highly likely be skipping this track in the future.
The Lines - Battles It was at this point in the mixtape that I began to despair! I'd really been enjoying the choices much more than I'd expected (sorry Jenn, you know that's not a dig, it's just our very different views on what's good musically - we tend to either agree 100% or be polar opposites). Enough said.
My Love - Sia Very promising start, beautiful piece of piano composition. Overall pretty good but would have much preferred it if it were a male singer.
Good Arms vs Bad Arms - Frightened Rabbit At this point, I began to relax again, this song I like, in fact I like it enough to type 'ooh' as I was listening to it. Only one annoying point with it, which is that the singer's voice reminds me very much of someone but I can't place who!
Doubtful Comforts - Blue Roses I've never liked female singers. The only one's I've ever had much time for have been Amy Echo, Gwen Stefani, Tobey Torres, Brody Dalle and Tarrie B. So this surprised me. It's gorgeous, completely and utterly gorgeous. However, it did nearly lose me with the chorally bit kicking in around 2 minutes...
Bust On The Ground - Bombay Bicycle Club I don't have anything to say on this one really. Wasn't bad, certainly wasn't great. Left me very much indifferent to it.
Last Song - Clogs I was a bit sorry the singing kicked in on this because the music was enough on it's own really. I want to listen to it again, and to be able to listen to it in the dark with nothing and nobody interrupting it. Because I feel like it deserves that attention.
Next installment comes from the music of Rob...
The critique this time is on Jenn's contribution:
Ready To Start - Arcade Fire My first thought was along the lines of 'seriously? I have to listen to this again??' but by the end of it I've come to the conclusion that it's a grower of a song, and maybe (just maybe) I'd like to be able to sing along to it. (so apologies Omar, for being very critical of it on yours)
Bloodbuzz Ohio - The National The singers voice reminded me of Nick Cave, which is always going to be a good thing in my book. The song is unusual, it captured my interest from the start, and I loved the contrast between the jangly music and the bleakness of his voice. I was sad it ended.
Ambling Alp - Yeasayer It made my feet dance! I like it, it's cheery and electronica and the wobbly voice reminded me of Robin Gibb on 'I Started A Joke'.
Walk Tall - Kele This track has a military vibe which is fresh and modern, but not modern in a crappy way that so much music that saturates commercial radio. I think long term it's the kind of song I'll end up totally loving or getting totally annoyed with.
Cold War - Janelle Monae I've heard a bit of this song on Jenn's blog before and switched it off because I really really didn't like what I heard. Turns out it gets worse though! I will very highly likely be skipping this track in the future.
The Lines - Battles It was at this point in the mixtape that I began to despair! I'd really been enjoying the choices much more than I'd expected (sorry Jenn, you know that's not a dig, it's just our very different views on what's good musically - we tend to either agree 100% or be polar opposites). Enough said.
My Love - Sia Very promising start, beautiful piece of piano composition. Overall pretty good but would have much preferred it if it were a male singer.
Good Arms vs Bad Arms - Frightened Rabbit At this point, I began to relax again, this song I like, in fact I like it enough to type 'ooh' as I was listening to it. Only one annoying point with it, which is that the singer's voice reminds me very much of someone but I can't place who!
Doubtful Comforts - Blue Roses I've never liked female singers. The only one's I've ever had much time for have been Amy Echo, Gwen Stefani, Tobey Torres, Brody Dalle and Tarrie B. So this surprised me. It's gorgeous, completely and utterly gorgeous. However, it did nearly lose me with the chorally bit kicking in around 2 minutes...
Bust On The Ground - Bombay Bicycle Club I don't have anything to say on this one really. Wasn't bad, certainly wasn't great. Left me very much indifferent to it.
Last Song - Clogs I was a bit sorry the singing kicked in on this because the music was enough on it's own really. I want to listen to it again, and to be able to listen to it in the dark with nothing and nobody interrupting it. Because I feel like it deserves that attention.
Next installment comes from the music of Rob...
Hey Mr DJ, Put A Record On
So Jenn, Omar, Rob and I decided to create an eleven track CD that is made up of our 'new favourite songs' and then send them out to each other. They didn't have to be newly released, or new to our collections, but they had to be newly loved - and only one from an artist or band. Omar and I stuck to the rules (!) and posted ours on the deadline; Jenn and Rob not so much... Which actually is a good thing, because I didn't have to pick which one to start with, or rush through one to start another. Every cloud and all that!
Here's what I thought of Omar's contribution to the exercise:
1. Unity - Orkidea Not a great place to start really since I can't remember anything about this song. Which probably says a lot about what I thought of it!
2. Baptism - Crystal Castles Chaotic and messy in a very good way. The background sounded like the kind of stuff my lovely lovely friend Laura would have listened to.
3. Tell 'Em - Sleigh Bells Had a good, promising start. Turned out even more chaotic and messy than the track before. The only downside was the singers completely hideous voice (in my opinion). Overall it had kind of a post-apocalyptic vibe going on that I liked.
4. Ready To Start - Arcade Fire I always thought I didn't like Arcade Fire. Turns out I'm just a bit left cold by their music really. To begin it felt nice and inoffensive but did nothing to set my world alight. The tension built up as it went on and dragged my attention back, but just as I thought it was getting somewhere it stopped.
5. Automatic - Yuck Two words: simple, beautiful.
6. Knee Play 5 - Phillip Glass The counting part at the start almost had me skipping this track. Which would have been a mistake. The preacher style speech over soft music is gorgeous. Best track on the album so far.
7. Dance The Way I Feel - Ou Est Le Swimming Pool I really really wanted to love this because of the name of the song and the band. I like the lyrics and the notion of dancing how I feel, but the music itself didn't hit me really on any emotional levels.
8. Everyone Chooses Sides - The Wrens This song feels like a sunny afternoon in a park with mates. It's kinda brit-poppy and the singer has a nasally twang reminiscent of Damon Albarn. I like this.
9. Everything I Build - The Stills Occasionally there are bits of this song that are a bit psychedelic and Pink Floyd esque. Small parts, and not enough to make me love it. It felt very bleak lyric-wise.
10. Love Lust - King Charles It's not something I'd usually listen to, but I'm really glad I did. It's a quirky track, and just as I was thinking I wanted it to do something more, it did!
11. 1440 - Olagur Arnalds This is the only track on the album I've heard before. I loved it before, and I love it as much, if not more now. It's beautiful and bleak, uplifting and devastating, heartbreaking and hopeful all at once.
As and when I receive the others, I shall blog about them too...
Here's what I thought of Omar's contribution to the exercise:
1. Unity - Orkidea Not a great place to start really since I can't remember anything about this song. Which probably says a lot about what I thought of it!
2. Baptism - Crystal Castles Chaotic and messy in a very good way. The background sounded like the kind of stuff my lovely lovely friend Laura would have listened to.
3. Tell 'Em - Sleigh Bells Had a good, promising start. Turned out even more chaotic and messy than the track before. The only downside was the singers completely hideous voice (in my opinion). Overall it had kind of a post-apocalyptic vibe going on that I liked.
4. Ready To Start - Arcade Fire I always thought I didn't like Arcade Fire. Turns out I'm just a bit left cold by their music really. To begin it felt nice and inoffensive but did nothing to set my world alight. The tension built up as it went on and dragged my attention back, but just as I thought it was getting somewhere it stopped.
5. Automatic - Yuck Two words: simple, beautiful.
6. Knee Play 5 - Phillip Glass The counting part at the start almost had me skipping this track. Which would have been a mistake. The preacher style speech over soft music is gorgeous. Best track on the album so far.
7. Dance The Way I Feel - Ou Est Le Swimming Pool I really really wanted to love this because of the name of the song and the band. I like the lyrics and the notion of dancing how I feel, but the music itself didn't hit me really on any emotional levels.
8. Everyone Chooses Sides - The Wrens This song feels like a sunny afternoon in a park with mates. It's kinda brit-poppy and the singer has a nasally twang reminiscent of Damon Albarn. I like this.
9. Everything I Build - The Stills Occasionally there are bits of this song that are a bit psychedelic and Pink Floyd esque. Small parts, and not enough to make me love it. It felt very bleak lyric-wise.
10. Love Lust - King Charles It's not something I'd usually listen to, but I'm really glad I did. It's a quirky track, and just as I was thinking I wanted it to do something more, it did!
11. 1440 - Olagur Arnalds This is the only track on the album I've heard before. I loved it before, and I love it as much, if not more now. It's beautiful and bleak, uplifting and devastating, heartbreaking and hopeful all at once.
As and when I receive the others, I shall blog about them too...
I Can't Get No Satisfaction
Then when I got trained as a counsellor and got my paid job at No Limits, that wish to help one person didn't satisfy me enough. I'd done that already. It's a pretty humbling feeling to know that there are people living a happier life because of me. That also sounds immensely big headed, which is something that can very very rarely ever be said about me. So my dream changed to helping many instead.
Only now that's not enough either. A colleague of mine has a very very poorly little boy who has respite stays in Naomi House in Winchester. He does as much as he can to raise money for them to compensate in some way for the support and respite the whole family gets from his boys stays there. So a few months ago I decided to do something to help too. I have a few musical connections, so decided to put on a charity gig night. The Great Sojourn, A.dam A.sun.der and The Tiny Eyes have all been incredibly generous and offered their services for free. I have another potential band, but they're on a bit of a hiatus at the moment, so I'm not too hopeful they'll be available. The stumbling block has been the venue though. Given that I'd do as much as I can for charities, in my naivety I assumed others would to. I've contacted pretty much every venue I can think of in Southampton and Winchester to put on this gig and only one has been really supportive in their response. Unfortunately due to timetabling issues, that venue's not going to work out.
So now I'm trying to figure out whether to go around them all and beg them face to face for their support. Or to give up and change the type of venue I'm trying for, to something like a hall instead. Which isn't ideal by a long shot, but potentially easier to pull off. If I do that, it will take place and will make some money for an incredible cause. But I won't be satisfied with it. It won't be what I want it to be. So do I settle or do I strive for more for my own satisfaction?
And if I pull that off, then what do I do next? What can I use to fill this need I have to justify my existence in this world? And is it ever going to be a satisfying answer to say that I am the reason for my existence?
All My Best Friends Are Metalheads
There was an article in Style Magazine with The Sunday Times today that is about understanding the subcultures of today's young people. It's an interesting article all round, but, as someone who wrote their a-level Sociology dissertation on the affects of subcultures on the youth, I would have liked it to be a bit more in depth.
The topic in general fascinates me, and I intend to blog about that more in future. Today I'm focusing in on the section titled 'Metalhead'. I think metalheads get a bit of a raw deal. But then I would say that, since if I had to pick a subculture label for myself, it would be that one. It was only a short piece, so this is it transcribed:
The Look: Heavy-metal T-shirts, skinny black jeans, black leather, Dr Martens and tattoos (roses, skulls angels, and, erm, machinery), plus black lips, eyes and nails and an Alice Dellal-style shaved head are now passable in polite circles. A deeper immersion includes corseted Victorian Gothic gowns (restraint is big - for girls and boys) and DIY dresses customised with punk studs, chains, crucifixes and band logos. Also silver jewellery, depicting animals and fairies, preferably attached to the metalhead's many piercings.
The Back Story: Metal has grown up - no longer is it about adolescents enjoying alienation and violent fan clashes. Bands and fans have become softer (and more female).
The Music: Alice Cooper, Metallica, Marilyn Manson, Ozzy Osbourne. Moshing has been all but outlawed, though the boys still head bang to show off their long hair.
The Attitude: They're still angry, though not at us, but at social issues such as racism and poverty.
The Lifestyle: Instead of drink, drugs and fights, metalheads now have successful relationships and careers (and not only as tattooists). Their dark side takes them from philosophy and Freud to poetry and art (they even design their own tats).
The No-Nos: Pink frosting.
Quote: VJ, 27, says "It's easy to make us cry - we need this mask of protection."
Much of this resonated with me strongly. I felt a strange sense of acceptance when I read this. Like it's finally been confirmed that being a metalhead is a legitimate subculture in today's patchwork quilt of subcultures that creates our thankfully varied society. I've felt for sometime now a pressure to 'grow out' of this 'phase', but haven't wanted to. It's a subculture that helped me make sense of who I am, it gave me an identity and a sense of belonging when I felt most cut adrift from both myself and the world around me. Although I know I'm much much more than the subculture I mostly identify with, and labels are largely very destructive, it's a label I've not wanted to give up.
Having said that though, I have often found myself apologising for it. If people ask about my music taste my response is often along the lines of "If I had to pick just one type of music, then I'm really sorry but my first love is metal". Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of being a metal fan, I'd defend the merits of the genre to my dying breath. But rather, I'm apologising for still identifying so much with metalhead-ism if that makes sense. Largely because I think people think of it as being a subculture for long haired 17 year old boys.
This article took me out of my own paranoid view on how people see me though. It declares that us metalheads may have tattoo's (check), piercings (check), a penchant for silver jewellery (check) and chains (check), but we also have careers (check) and are passionately unwilling to accept injustice in this world (check). So if that's what being a metalhead is comprised of, then I'm fucking proud to say I am one.
The topic in general fascinates me, and I intend to blog about that more in future. Today I'm focusing in on the section titled 'Metalhead'. I think metalheads get a bit of a raw deal. But then I would say that, since if I had to pick a subculture label for myself, it would be that one. It was only a short piece, so this is it transcribed:
The Look: Heavy-metal T-shirts, skinny black jeans, black leather, Dr Martens and tattoos (roses, skulls angels, and, erm, machinery), plus black lips, eyes and nails and an Alice Dellal-style shaved head are now passable in polite circles. A deeper immersion includes corseted Victorian Gothic gowns (restraint is big - for girls and boys) and DIY dresses customised with punk studs, chains, crucifixes and band logos. Also silver jewellery, depicting animals and fairies, preferably attached to the metalhead's many piercings.
The Back Story: Metal has grown up - no longer is it about adolescents enjoying alienation and violent fan clashes. Bands and fans have become softer (and more female).
The Music: Alice Cooper, Metallica, Marilyn Manson, Ozzy Osbourne. Moshing has been all but outlawed, though the boys still head bang to show off their long hair.
The Attitude: They're still angry, though not at us, but at social issues such as racism and poverty.
The Lifestyle: Instead of drink, drugs and fights, metalheads now have successful relationships and careers (and not only as tattooists). Their dark side takes them from philosophy and Freud to poetry and art (they even design their own tats).
The No-Nos: Pink frosting.
Quote: VJ, 27, says "It's easy to make us cry - we need this mask of protection."
Much of this resonated with me strongly. I felt a strange sense of acceptance when I read this. Like it's finally been confirmed that being a metalhead is a legitimate subculture in today's patchwork quilt of subcultures that creates our thankfully varied society. I've felt for sometime now a pressure to 'grow out' of this 'phase', but haven't wanted to. It's a subculture that helped me make sense of who I am, it gave me an identity and a sense of belonging when I felt most cut adrift from both myself and the world around me. Although I know I'm much much more than the subculture I mostly identify with, and labels are largely very destructive, it's a label I've not wanted to give up.
Having said that though, I have often found myself apologising for it. If people ask about my music taste my response is often along the lines of "If I had to pick just one type of music, then I'm really sorry but my first love is metal". Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of being a metal fan, I'd defend the merits of the genre to my dying breath. But rather, I'm apologising for still identifying so much with metalhead-ism if that makes sense. Largely because I think people think of it as being a subculture for long haired 17 year old boys.
This article took me out of my own paranoid view on how people see me though. It declares that us metalheads may have tattoo's (check), piercings (check), a penchant for silver jewellery (check) and chains (check), but we also have careers (check) and are passionately unwilling to accept injustice in this world (check). So if that's what being a metalhead is comprised of, then I'm fucking proud to say I am one.
The Bruise Left Round Your Heart, Left You Begging For More
Funeral For A Friend
Solus, Cardiff University Students Union, Cardiff
22 July 2010
Surrounded by sweaty, long haired guys and girls with Bridgend's finest emo-rockers creating a multi-sensory musical atmosphere, I felt slightly like I'd entered the twilight zone. This is because last time I was in there was 7 years ago, and was likely to have been at Drink The Bar Dry - eleven solid hours of drinking accompanied by my amazing uni friends and hundreds of other randoms to a cheesy mix of seventies, eighties and nineties classics. So to say it was odd to be in Solus (which literally hasn't changed one bit), with someone who I didn't go to uni with to see a metal band is a gross understatement.
The night was one of two special gigs put on to say farewell to their fantastically talented guitarist, Darran Smith who was leaving the band after nine years. 'Shuffle' buttons on things like ipod's bug me because I'm a big believer in listening to a complete album as it's been made as a piece of musical art for a reason. This gig didn't use a shuffle button on their greatest hits, but instead played the whole of Casually Dressed And Deep In Conversation, followed by an encore of other classics.
Casually Dressed is my favourite FFAF album, and on the shortlist for my favourite ever album, and hearing it played loud in it's complete state was awesome. I've not had the luck to see FFAF before, but I imagine they always play with tenacity and a huge sense of passion: they certainly did this time. They were alive, and the crowd responded, mirroring the passion and the shared revelry for the soon-to-depart Darran.
The night was a reminder that albums don't have to include those typical 'album filler' tracks - they can be created completely of single quality songs, it just takes time and talent. Each song was fantastic, there wasn't one moment when I thought it was a track they should have skipped.
It was a magical night: having the opportunity to hear live one of my most beloved albums was an incredible experience. Thank you Darran Smith, for being part of a band that left bruises round my heart, and left me begging for more.
Solus, Cardiff University Students Union, Cardiff
22 July 2010
Surrounded by sweaty, long haired guys and girls with Bridgend's finest emo-rockers creating a multi-sensory musical atmosphere, I felt slightly like I'd entered the twilight zone. This is because last time I was in there was 7 years ago, and was likely to have been at Drink The Bar Dry - eleven solid hours of drinking accompanied by my amazing uni friends and hundreds of other randoms to a cheesy mix of seventies, eighties and nineties classics. So to say it was odd to be in Solus (which literally hasn't changed one bit), with someone who I didn't go to uni with to see a metal band is a gross understatement.
The night was one of two special gigs put on to say farewell to their fantastically talented guitarist, Darran Smith who was leaving the band after nine years. 'Shuffle' buttons on things like ipod's bug me because I'm a big believer in listening to a complete album as it's been made as a piece of musical art for a reason. This gig didn't use a shuffle button on their greatest hits, but instead played the whole of Casually Dressed And Deep In Conversation, followed by an encore of other classics.
Casually Dressed is my favourite FFAF album, and on the shortlist for my favourite ever album, and hearing it played loud in it's complete state was awesome. I've not had the luck to see FFAF before, but I imagine they always play with tenacity and a huge sense of passion: they certainly did this time. They were alive, and the crowd responded, mirroring the passion and the shared revelry for the soon-to-depart Darran.
The night was a reminder that albums don't have to include those typical 'album filler' tracks - they can be created completely of single quality songs, it just takes time and talent. Each song was fantastic, there wasn't one moment when I thought it was a track they should have skipped.
It was a magical night: having the opportunity to hear live one of my most beloved albums was an incredible experience. Thank you Darran Smith, for being part of a band that left bruises round my heart, and left me begging for more.
From Nine To Five I Have To Spend My Time At Work
I handed my notice in today for my generic job in a generic team in a generic county council department. In truth I feel a bit mixed about it. I don't enjoy the job, trust me when I say I get absolutely no satisfaction from being stuck in an office all day charging people for their care - the care they need because they're sick, or old or dying. But it's a safe job. It's a job I know inside out and can do without a moments thought about what it is I'm doing. Also, up until this change of government, it was safe in terms that it's unlikely that charging for care will ever cease, and even if it does, then I'd get redeployed. Throughout all my training as a counsellor it's been my saftety blanket, I like that fact that it's something I'm very sure of and I'm very confident in my abilities of.
I've made amazing friends in my (almost) six years in my generic job. I've literally laughed until I've cried and cried until I've laughed with them. It's the people who are really what I'm going to miss. Some I'll keep in touch with for ever, others not so much. They're not people I'd usually necessarily cross paths with outside work. But I guess that's part of what makes work brilliant (or awful), you get to meet people who touch your lives in ways you never expect them to.
As of 31st August, I no longer have my safety blanket. Instead I have something better. I have my dream. For as long as I can remember, all I've wanted to do with my life is make a difference to somebody. To know that it's because of me that someone's life is a bit easier. Only now I've moved the goal posts. I don't want to do that for just one person. I want to do it for as many as I can. From September my working week will be solely comprised of living my dream and studying to continue developing my ability to live my dream as well as I possibly can.
So bring on the fear, the uncertainty, the self doubt, because I'm ready!
I've made amazing friends in my (almost) six years in my generic job. I've literally laughed until I've cried and cried until I've laughed with them. It's the people who are really what I'm going to miss. Some I'll keep in touch with for ever, others not so much. They're not people I'd usually necessarily cross paths with outside work. But I guess that's part of what makes work brilliant (or awful), you get to meet people who touch your lives in ways you never expect them to.
As of 31st August, I no longer have my safety blanket. Instead I have something better. I have my dream. For as long as I can remember, all I've wanted to do with my life is make a difference to somebody. To know that it's because of me that someone's life is a bit easier. Only now I've moved the goal posts. I don't want to do that for just one person. I want to do it for as many as I can. From September my working week will be solely comprised of living my dream and studying to continue developing my ability to live my dream as well as I possibly can.
So bring on the fear, the uncertainty, the self doubt, because I'm ready!
Five Is A Magic Number
I randomly got into a conversation of favourite ever albums the other day with Rob following a mutually held respect for Faith No More. For the last couple of days I've been musing over my favourite albums, or more specifically my top 5. I have had some difficulties creating this list though, not least because I own over 600 Cd's and would be lost without any one of them! The other reason being that I've literally thought too much about it. Should I go with my gut reactions and make my top 5 from the first five albums I think of? Should it be a top 5 based entirely on the musical content, or can I take into account (should I take into account) loving an album because of memories attached and feelings evoked? So I decided to just type, and whatever five I end up putting on here will be today's Top Five - they won't necessarily be yesterdays or tomorrows, but they work for here and now (not in any particular order though)....
1). Ixnay On The Hombre - The Offspring
I remember the first time I heard this album, I remember everything about that moment. I was in the IT room behind Mr Coombs's and opposite Mrs Aukland's at school - year ten, summer time, 3 computers down on the left side of the room and Jon sat to my right. Sun was shining in my eyes and couldn't properly see the album cover for the CD Jon was passing me earphones to listen to. You know that feeling you get from a truly amazing album - like you know your life will never be quite the same again? My skin tingles now thinking about it. Every moment of that album from The Disclaimer at the start to the very last chord is immense: there are no weak moments in this album, no fillers, no songs that wouldn't be missed if you skip them each time. It's a heady mix of comedy, heartbreak, dissatisfaction, acceptance and anarchy all wrapped up in some of the most intelligently produced punk to ever be exported from America's west side. If I think about this too much, I will start wavering and wondering if I should be putting Smash here instead. So I'm not thinking about it. Smash is awesome, but Ixnay just has my heart.
2). 03.07.2006 Beaulieu - The Who
It was my intention to not put albums here because of an event, but I can't not add this one to the list. It's a live recorded CD produced when The Who played in the remains of Beaulieu Abbey. It. Was. Incredible. I've grown up with The Who (not literally... man that would be awesome..), my Dad has always been a massive fan - quite likely to be the biggest fan in history to not actually don a Parker and have some kind of RAF insignia somewhere about his property! I remember being very young and asking him to explain the story of Tommy, and why if he was poorly his Mum would take him to an acid Queen - she doesn't sound like a proper doctor or anything. I digress. For me there's something in the music from that era that is so often missing in modern music - especially the mass-produced bollocks that saturates the charts these days. I guess it comes from how easy it is to churn out tracks that are commercially viable and acceptable, and don't have to be worked on for months to make them perfect because at the flick of a button they will be pitch or timing perfect. In those days, making a single really was a bit thing, and the charts meant something, these days this weeks top ten will be forgotten next week. I digress again. The point is, The Who created the kind of songs that span decades, they don't sound old or simplistic or outdated when listened to 40 years after they were written. And watching Pete Townsend windmilling in the abbey grounds with the sunsetting behind him is possibly the most transcendental moment of my life.
3). Generation Terrorists - Manic Street Preachers
Possibly a controversial choice here. For someone who was trying not to pick albums for memory reasons, I'm not doing a very good job, because this album is all about the end of my first year at Cardiff Uni. Or at least it was. Now it's something so much more than that. This album was the first of the 'pre-Ritchie disappearing' albums that I really connected with. So it deserves to be on the list if nothing more than because it meant I then fell totally in love with The Holy Bible, Gold Against The Soul and New Art Riot EP. I don't know if it's a genetic Welsh thing, but for me can feel the Welshness in this album - the sense of loss that so envelopes families from the South Wales valleys, the jaded look about the towns that have boarded up windows and cracked, fading paint on the sills of the boarded up windows. At the same time there's this punky anarchistic thread of the disaffected youth that I so identified with as a screwed up disillusioned, dissatisfied teenager. Being totally honest, it's a feeling I do still very much identify with, and in many ways don't want to ever lose. This album reminds me that - it reminds to not accept things as they are if I don't like them, to rage against the man and the machine, to fight for what I believe in. To fight for me.
Now I'm struggling, two spots left and many many albums that I want to fill them with. Going to have to do an 'ooh and also...' list at the end.
4). Pulp - Different Class
I've spent years ribbing Jenn for her love of all things indie. And I'm putting an indie album in my top 5. But when it's as good as Different Class I defy anyone to not put it in their top 5. It's a classy, polished, intelligently crafted album. It is the very essence of Brit-pop, for me more so than Oasis or Blur (both of which are likely to be getting honorable mentions later!). Listening to it, sounds like I'm listening to the late nineties. Like Ixnay, Different Class has no weak songs - each one is as deserving as the next to be on that album, and could have been released as a single to be very proud of. I love the story telling nature of this album, the lyrics create such vivid scenes and the music puts colour to them. Having said that though, there's still enough space to put your own interpretation to them, and therefore get that feeling that they're story-telling about your life. Plus, literally every time I hear F.E.E.L.I.N.G.CA.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E. I am back at Reading Festival with them playing that song for about fifteen minutes, and every time it makes me melt.
5). Marilyn Manson - Antichrist Superstar
So no Top 5 list of mine would be complete with out a metal album in it. It was my first musical love, and will never fail to reach places other music just can't quite get to. I procrastinated for quite some time over which type of metal should get this coveted position, then which band, let alone which album. Given that I've already gone on for quite some time, I'm not going to write about the mental argument I had with myself on making this decision. Antichrist Superstar is just hands down a phenomenal piece of musical theatre. Take away all the bullshit you hear in the media about Marilyn Manson, and all the shock techniques he uses to keep all the idiots at a distance, and underneath it all is a creative genius. Forgive me for ignoring the other band members for a moment while I concentrate on the man himself. MM created a unique piece of musical history here, with the help and guidance of the astoundingly talented Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails fame. It's an album unlike anything else, it can (and has) made me cry, made me angry, made me feel less alone, and perhaps oddly has made me proud. I'm proud to say I looked beyond the defenses he puts out there, because this album is so worth looking for.
The 'ooh and also' list.....
Korn - Life Is Peachy
System Of A Down - System Of A Down
Stereophonics - Word Gets Around
Nirvana - pretty much everything they've done
Placebo - Without You I'm Nothing
Eminem - The Marsall Mathers LP
The Streets - Original Pirate Material
The Offspring - Smash
Metallica - Black Album
Metallica - Death Magnetic
Funeral For A Friend - Casually Dressed & Deep In Conversation
Live - A Distance To Here
Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine
Sex Pistols - Kiss This
Reef - Glow
Foo Fighters - The Colour & The Shape
Eels - Beautiful Freak
Manic Street Preachers - all the rest of their albums
I could go on.............
1). Ixnay On The Hombre - The Offspring
I remember the first time I heard this album, I remember everything about that moment. I was in the IT room behind Mr Coombs's and opposite Mrs Aukland's at school - year ten, summer time, 3 computers down on the left side of the room and Jon sat to my right. Sun was shining in my eyes and couldn't properly see the album cover for the CD Jon was passing me earphones to listen to. You know that feeling you get from a truly amazing album - like you know your life will never be quite the same again? My skin tingles now thinking about it. Every moment of that album from The Disclaimer at the start to the very last chord is immense: there are no weak moments in this album, no fillers, no songs that wouldn't be missed if you skip them each time. It's a heady mix of comedy, heartbreak, dissatisfaction, acceptance and anarchy all wrapped up in some of the most intelligently produced punk to ever be exported from America's west side. If I think about this too much, I will start wavering and wondering if I should be putting Smash here instead. So I'm not thinking about it. Smash is awesome, but Ixnay just has my heart.
2). 03.07.2006 Beaulieu - The Who
It was my intention to not put albums here because of an event, but I can't not add this one to the list. It's a live recorded CD produced when The Who played in the remains of Beaulieu Abbey. It. Was. Incredible. I've grown up with The Who (not literally... man that would be awesome..), my Dad has always been a massive fan - quite likely to be the biggest fan in history to not actually don a Parker and have some kind of RAF insignia somewhere about his property! I remember being very young and asking him to explain the story of Tommy, and why if he was poorly his Mum would take him to an acid Queen - she doesn't sound like a proper doctor or anything. I digress. For me there's something in the music from that era that is so often missing in modern music - especially the mass-produced bollocks that saturates the charts these days. I guess it comes from how easy it is to churn out tracks that are commercially viable and acceptable, and don't have to be worked on for months to make them perfect because at the flick of a button they will be pitch or timing perfect. In those days, making a single really was a bit thing, and the charts meant something, these days this weeks top ten will be forgotten next week. I digress again. The point is, The Who created the kind of songs that span decades, they don't sound old or simplistic or outdated when listened to 40 years after they were written. And watching Pete Townsend windmilling in the abbey grounds with the sunsetting behind him is possibly the most transcendental moment of my life.
3). Generation Terrorists - Manic Street Preachers
Possibly a controversial choice here. For someone who was trying not to pick albums for memory reasons, I'm not doing a very good job, because this album is all about the end of my first year at Cardiff Uni. Or at least it was. Now it's something so much more than that. This album was the first of the 'pre-Ritchie disappearing' albums that I really connected with. So it deserves to be on the list if nothing more than because it meant I then fell totally in love with The Holy Bible, Gold Against The Soul and New Art Riot EP. I don't know if it's a genetic Welsh thing, but for me can feel the Welshness in this album - the sense of loss that so envelopes families from the South Wales valleys, the jaded look about the towns that have boarded up windows and cracked, fading paint on the sills of the boarded up windows. At the same time there's this punky anarchistic thread of the disaffected youth that I so identified with as a screwed up disillusioned, dissatisfied teenager. Being totally honest, it's a feeling I do still very much identify with, and in many ways don't want to ever lose. This album reminds me that - it reminds to not accept things as they are if I don't like them, to rage against the man and the machine, to fight for what I believe in. To fight for me.
Now I'm struggling, two spots left and many many albums that I want to fill them with. Going to have to do an 'ooh and also...' list at the end.
4). Pulp - Different Class
I've spent years ribbing Jenn for her love of all things indie. And I'm putting an indie album in my top 5. But when it's as good as Different Class I defy anyone to not put it in their top 5. It's a classy, polished, intelligently crafted album. It is the very essence of Brit-pop, for me more so than Oasis or Blur (both of which are likely to be getting honorable mentions later!). Listening to it, sounds like I'm listening to the late nineties. Like Ixnay, Different Class has no weak songs - each one is as deserving as the next to be on that album, and could have been released as a single to be very proud of. I love the story telling nature of this album, the lyrics create such vivid scenes and the music puts colour to them. Having said that though, there's still enough space to put your own interpretation to them, and therefore get that feeling that they're story-telling about your life. Plus, literally every time I hear F.E.E.L.I.N.G.CA.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E. I am back at Reading Festival with them playing that song for about fifteen minutes, and every time it makes me melt.
5). Marilyn Manson - Antichrist Superstar
So no Top 5 list of mine would be complete with out a metal album in it. It was my first musical love, and will never fail to reach places other music just can't quite get to. I procrastinated for quite some time over which type of metal should get this coveted position, then which band, let alone which album. Given that I've already gone on for quite some time, I'm not going to write about the mental argument I had with myself on making this decision. Antichrist Superstar is just hands down a phenomenal piece of musical theatre. Take away all the bullshit you hear in the media about Marilyn Manson, and all the shock techniques he uses to keep all the idiots at a distance, and underneath it all is a creative genius. Forgive me for ignoring the other band members for a moment while I concentrate on the man himself. MM created a unique piece of musical history here, with the help and guidance of the astoundingly talented Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails fame. It's an album unlike anything else, it can (and has) made me cry, made me angry, made me feel less alone, and perhaps oddly has made me proud. I'm proud to say I looked beyond the defenses he puts out there, because this album is so worth looking for.
The 'ooh and also' list.....
Korn - Life Is Peachy
System Of A Down - System Of A Down
Stereophonics - Word Gets Around
Nirvana - pretty much everything they've done
Placebo - Without You I'm Nothing
Eminem - The Marsall Mathers LP
The Streets - Original Pirate Material
The Offspring - Smash
Metallica - Black Album
Metallica - Death Magnetic
Funeral For A Friend - Casually Dressed & Deep In Conversation
Live - A Distance To Here
Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine
Sex Pistols - Kiss This
Reef - Glow
Foo Fighters - The Colour & The Shape
Eels - Beautiful Freak
Manic Street Preachers - all the rest of their albums
I could go on.............
This Note Is Marked Return To Sender
I usually have a few books on the go, I like to be able to pick up a book to suit my mood. At the moment I'm reading:
The last on the list has inspired this blog entry. It's a collection of letters that various famous people have written to their sixteen year old selves (as the title suggested!). It got me thinking about what I'd put in a letter to my sixteen year old self. Some of them in the book wrote about what happens in their future, but for me that's cheating, I wouldn't want to know what happens in my life before I live it. Others were written as a warning, some reflective on them at that time of their lives, some were advisory. Many of them are bittersweet - funny with a hint of wistfulness for a time long gone and that essence of everything that goes into the makeup of a sixteen year old psyche and view on life.
So this is my attempt at a letter to my sixteen year old self....
Dear Me
Hiya! You'll have noticed that I haven't called you a name. That's because your name is a bit of an issue for you at the moment, and I'm not sure which vernacular I should be using to write to myself... friendly, family, authoritative... and I don't want to offend this early into your letter!
You'll also notice that I'm (we're??) still using a lot of punctuation (possibly too much, but if that's the worst criticism someone can pin to my door then I'd say I'm doing pretty well). I like to think it adds character to things :)
I know that you understand a sideways smiley face (I believe they're called 'emoticons') after having spent aaaages trying to decipher it in a text from CB. If that hasn't happened yet, then just to clarify, you'll meet a great lad with those initials and you'll get your own mobile telephone that has this application that means you can text other people on their mobiles - kind of like paging but two way.
I digress... So I know you're going through a hard time at the moment, I'm not going to tell you how things with your Dad pan out or what happens with the whole self harm thing. That's a path for you to figure out on your own, but I will tell you I'm not writing this from inside an institution or from beyond the grave so hold onto the knowledge that things get easier for you.
One thing I will say though is to cherish every moment you can with Gran. Listen to her stories about Grandad and their lives. Ask those questions about her early life - those ones that will paint a picture of her so much beyond the image of her as your grandmother. And in Grandma's lucid moments, do the same with her. There's so much they can tell you, and you'll wish you could have learnt from them. By now it's already too late to do that with both Grandad's and Great Gran, so make the most of them.
Keep loving music, it paints the colour of your life so make sure it's present in every part of it. Stay true to who you are, even though I know right now you don't have much a clue of who that is. Oh, and in the Easter holidays in your second year at college you'll go to a party at IY's - kiss SO, you'll always regret not kissing him. Trust me!
That brings me to my last pearl of wisdom: don't let your insecurities and paranoia get the better of you, it's the things you don't do that you'll regret the most.
Oh, and just a sneak preview - by the time you're 28 you'll have dyed your hair pinker than flamingos and had a ring pierced through your nipple....
Take care of yourself (myself??)
Me xxx
- Dead Until Dark - Charlane Harris
- Auschwitz: The Nazi's And The Final Solution - Laurence Rees
- Beyond Fear & Control: Working with Young People Who Self Harm - Helen Spandler & Sam Warner
- Dear Me: A Letter to My Sixteen-Year-Old Self - Joseph Galliano
The last on the list has inspired this blog entry. It's a collection of letters that various famous people have written to their sixteen year old selves (as the title suggested!). It got me thinking about what I'd put in a letter to my sixteen year old self. Some of them in the book wrote about what happens in their future, but for me that's cheating, I wouldn't want to know what happens in my life before I live it. Others were written as a warning, some reflective on them at that time of their lives, some were advisory. Many of them are bittersweet - funny with a hint of wistfulness for a time long gone and that essence of everything that goes into the makeup of a sixteen year old psyche and view on life.
So this is my attempt at a letter to my sixteen year old self....
Hiya! You'll have noticed that I haven't called you a name. That's because your name is a bit of an issue for you at the moment, and I'm not sure which vernacular I should be using to write to myself... friendly, family, authoritative... and I don't want to offend this early into your letter!
You'll also notice that I'm (we're??) still using a lot of punctuation (possibly too much, but if that's the worst criticism someone can pin to my door then I'd say I'm doing pretty well). I like to think it adds character to things :)
I know that you understand a sideways smiley face (I believe they're called 'emoticons') after having spent aaaages trying to decipher it in a text from CB. If that hasn't happened yet, then just to clarify, you'll meet a great lad with those initials and you'll get your own mobile telephone that has this application that means you can text other people on their mobiles - kind of like paging but two way.
I digress... So I know you're going through a hard time at the moment, I'm not going to tell you how things with your Dad pan out or what happens with the whole self harm thing. That's a path for you to figure out on your own, but I will tell you I'm not writing this from inside an institution or from beyond the grave so hold onto the knowledge that things get easier for you.
One thing I will say though is to cherish every moment you can with Gran. Listen to her stories about Grandad and their lives. Ask those questions about her early life - those ones that will paint a picture of her so much beyond the image of her as your grandmother. And in Grandma's lucid moments, do the same with her. There's so much they can tell you, and you'll wish you could have learnt from them. By now it's already too late to do that with both Grandad's and Great Gran, so make the most of them.
Keep loving music, it paints the colour of your life so make sure it's present in every part of it. Stay true to who you are, even though I know right now you don't have much a clue of who that is. Oh, and in the Easter holidays in your second year at college you'll go to a party at IY's - kiss SO, you'll always regret not kissing him. Trust me!
That brings me to my last pearl of wisdom: don't let your insecurities and paranoia get the better of you, it's the things you don't do that you'll regret the most.
Oh, and just a sneak preview - by the time you're 28 you'll have dyed your hair pinker than flamingos and had a ring pierced through your nipple....
Take care of yourself (myself??)
Me xxx
I Wish It Was Sunday, Because That's My Fun Day
I had a lovely day yesterday, so thought I'd blog it in order to preserve it for the archives of my history! It wasn't particularly an amazing day insomuch as I didn't meet my idols or jump on a plane to anywhere my money in my pocket would take me. But it was a fulfilling day, one of those 'chicken soup' kind of days if you know what I mean. I woke quite early so spent a couple of hours curled up reading a book I didn't expect to enjoy half as much as I am (it's a book club book and not one I'd usually pick off a shelf to read, but I guess that's the point of book clubs). Then I went for a wonder around M&S, and drove there with my car roof down, sun shining and Metallica's Death Magnetic playing ear bleedingly loud. I digress slightly here to just write briefly about Death Magnetic. Like the book, it wasn't an album I was expecting to fall in love with. Quite often now I've found myself appreciating Metallica's work rather than really feeling something for it. I *love* their early work, but later stuff not so much. Death Magnetic has really grown on me without me noticing, and has become one of my favourite album purchases of the year for sure.
Back to yesterday.... I spent the afternoon in the sunny back garden belonging to Caroline and Ian, relaxing, laughing, eating barbeque, watching the kids running about enjoying the summery weather. Despite the sunburn (which almost 24 hours on is still hot to the touch and somewhat lobster-y in colour), and not booking our holiday (because of the volcano ash thing) the afternoon was exactly what I needed.
And from there I went to my parents to see my aunt and uncle who were visiting for the day. They're the kind of family that isn't a hassle to be around, you can just relax and have fun with them. I've not seen them since Christmas so was nice to sit and have a cuppa and a catch up with them.
The evening from then consisted of Time Team geekery and another hour or so of reading my book before having a really good night sleep (without nightmares and semi-awake hallucinations - hurrah!).
So that was my day. Nothing spectacular as I said, but was a great day nonetheless.
Back to yesterday.... I spent the afternoon in the sunny back garden belonging to Caroline and Ian, relaxing, laughing, eating barbeque, watching the kids running about enjoying the summery weather. Despite the sunburn (which almost 24 hours on is still hot to the touch and somewhat lobster-y in colour), and not booking our holiday (because of the volcano ash thing) the afternoon was exactly what I needed.
And from there I went to my parents to see my aunt and uncle who were visiting for the day. They're the kind of family that isn't a hassle to be around, you can just relax and have fun with them. I've not seen them since Christmas so was nice to sit and have a cuppa and a catch up with them.
The evening from then consisted of Time Team geekery and another hour or so of reading my book before having a really good night sleep (without nightmares and semi-awake hallucinations - hurrah!).
So that was my day. Nothing spectacular as I said, but was a great day nonetheless.
I Was Up Above It, Now I'm Down In It
It seems to happen that each time I write confidently about being in a happier place that I end up feeling rubbish again. Maybe it's because I make myself more conscious of how I'm feeling - if I hadn't written about being happier becoming easier, then I wouldn't be so acutely aware of how awful I feel at the moment. Or maybe I would be, but I wouldn't be berating myself so much for feeling this way. Or maybe I wouldn't have had an internal fight with myself about blogging how I feel; feeling like I'm letting people down by being in this place. I could have written this in my diary. I could have written pages about how for the last five days I've exhausted myself trying to smile and make conversation with people, how I've lost count the number of times I've had to hold in the tears and used every ounce of strength I have to not cut. The thing is though, I need people to know how I'm feeling. I can't pick up the phone and text or ring someone and tell them (we're back to the 'letting people down'/'not being important enough to bother people' thing here), so I'm blogging it instead. I'm not expecting people to comment or to contact me - that's not what this is about. I just needed someone to know. I guess the thought process behind that being I won't be so alone.
I know logically that this won't last, that I'll come out of it again. The trouble is I need to come out of it soon and I don't know what I can do to help that process because it's come (pretty much) out of the blue.
I know logically that this won't last, that I'll come out of it again. The trouble is I need to come out of it soon and I don't know what I can do to help that process because it's come (pretty much) out of the blue.
I Know It Sounds Absurd, But Please Tell Me Who I Am
I was going to write something profound for my hundredth blog entry. But this is 101 so clearly I missed that. Perhaps that's profound in itself..... Anyway.... When I started this blog on 15 November 2007 I didn't know what to put in a blog, how to write it, how often to write it, or the point in writing it. Two years and four months on I've found my answers: I write what I want, however I want, whenever I want and the point of it being because I want or need to write things down. Writing has always been an incredibly cathartic process for me - poetry, diary entries, short stories, letters that I have no intention of sending - and blog entries can now be added to that list. It's a different style of writing, a different style of being honest to the world and to explore my head and my heart. On some occasions I've been able to be more open and honest on here than I have face-to-face with people. And maybe that's because some things are too hard to say to people. Or because I literally can't say it to people - those who are no longer part of my life, or part of this world.
In some ways I made a rod for my own back with this blog by calling it 'telling the truth'. I guess I felt it was time to face myself and my life and figure out what my truth actually is. Little did I know where that journey would take me. Little do I know where that journey will continue to take me.
One thing continues to puzzle me though with my blog. And that is that people who don't know me from Adam 'follow' it. I don't understand why really. That's probably part of my not understanding why people would want to be my friends thing coming through. But really though? What's so interesting about what I have to say that people actually want to read it?
So to update entry number one from 15 November 2007, I still work a generic job surrounded by a suffocating abyss of polyester nothingness. But I only work that job 2 days a week. The other 3 days I get to do what makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I'm finally making a difference to this world, that my life has a meaning and that I won't leave this world without having made an impression on it. Okay so it's not an impression that is going to be on history curriculums in a hundred or two hundred or three hundred years time. And that's okay with me, because I know that thanks to me in my role as Youth Worker there is a young person alive in this world that wouldn't be without the help and support I gave them. Pretty humbling really, knowing that.
So two years and four months on am I happy? Is life still tough? I could go with my default depressive stance and say the answers are 'no' and 'yes'. That wouldn't be true though. Am I happy? Not all the time, probably not even most of the time. But yes, I do have moments when I can put my hand on my heart and say I'm truly happy. And that feeling takes my breath away. Is life still tough? Sure, but I think it always will be. I'm okay with that though, because like the happiness thing fluctuates, so does the toughness. It's getting easier, or maybe it's just getting easier to handle. Either way, life doesn't seem quite so much the effort it was 100 blog entries ago.
In some ways I made a rod for my own back with this blog by calling it 'telling the truth'. I guess I felt it was time to face myself and my life and figure out what my truth actually is. Little did I know where that journey would take me. Little do I know where that journey will continue to take me.
One thing continues to puzzle me though with my blog. And that is that people who don't know me from Adam 'follow' it. I don't understand why really. That's probably part of my not understanding why people would want to be my friends thing coming through. But really though? What's so interesting about what I have to say that people actually want to read it?
So to update entry number one from 15 November 2007, I still work a generic job surrounded by a suffocating abyss of polyester nothingness. But I only work that job 2 days a week. The other 3 days I get to do what makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I'm finally making a difference to this world, that my life has a meaning and that I won't leave this world without having made an impression on it. Okay so it's not an impression that is going to be on history curriculums in a hundred or two hundred or three hundred years time. And that's okay with me, because I know that thanks to me in my role as Youth Worker there is a young person alive in this world that wouldn't be without the help and support I gave them. Pretty humbling really, knowing that.
So two years and four months on am I happy? Is life still tough? I could go with my default depressive stance and say the answers are 'no' and 'yes'. That wouldn't be true though. Am I happy? Not all the time, probably not even most of the time. But yes, I do have moments when I can put my hand on my heart and say I'm truly happy. And that feeling takes my breath away. Is life still tough? Sure, but I think it always will be. I'm okay with that though, because like the happiness thing fluctuates, so does the toughness. It's getting easier, or maybe it's just getting easier to handle. Either way, life doesn't seem quite so much the effort it was 100 blog entries ago.
The Ghost Of A Steam Train - Echoes Down My Track
This reminded me of Him. And since I can't tell him, I'm blogging it instead...
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
I went to see Perfect Alibi at The Brook last night. They are a pretty well respected Pink Floyd tribute band, and was the last night that their current front man would be playing with them. I like Pink Floyd; with a best friend for whom to recite their lyrics is as natural as breathing, and a father obsessed with all things prog-rock, there was not much chance of me ever NOT liking them really. Having said that, my knowledge of them is not extensive, I have a few of their albums but it tends to be that I hear them more because of shuffle on my ipod than through picking them to listen to. It is always a lovely treat when one of their tracks comes on - there's a theatrical nature and a feeling of immensity (I'm not sure that's a word...) with pretty much every song they created.
So I was a bit sceptical about how good Perfect Alibi would be, as I tend to be generally a bit dimissive about tribute bands, although I'm trying to let that go! Having spent many drunken and very fun evenings in The Brook though, I jumped at the invite to go see them play there. From the outside it was the same as it always was, but walking in I was totally thrown. It's been refurbished and is light and could almost be described as 'airy'. For anyone who knew it ten years ago, that's really not how you'd describe the entrance way! Walking into the bar area though was like putting on a pair of old jeans: comfy, relaxed, a little worn and loved all the more for that. I won't add here that it was full of middle aged, slightly sweaty men with a lot of hair, because that isn't generally what I associate with my old jeans!
The place was packed and the band played for three hours non-stop. They were brilliant - they've made their careers about paying tribute to one of the most influential, ground-breaking bands ever to grace this earth - and they do so with style, grace, passion and buckets of ability. Watching them play, it was clear how much they love Pink Floyd. There were a few times when it was almost like we were trespassing on a private transcendental moment, they became totally at one with their beloved music.
Perfect Alibi have certainly helped in my journey to stop that voice in my head that mocks tribute bands. And I want to thank them for reminding me how much fun a night out in The Brook is. To The Brook I want to say this: I will be back soon, I've missed my comfy jeans.
So I was a bit sceptical about how good Perfect Alibi would be, as I tend to be generally a bit dimissive about tribute bands, although I'm trying to let that go! Having spent many drunken and very fun evenings in The Brook though, I jumped at the invite to go see them play there. From the outside it was the same as it always was, but walking in I was totally thrown. It's been refurbished and is light and could almost be described as 'airy'. For anyone who knew it ten years ago, that's really not how you'd describe the entrance way! Walking into the bar area though was like putting on a pair of old jeans: comfy, relaxed, a little worn and loved all the more for that. I won't add here that it was full of middle aged, slightly sweaty men with a lot of hair, because that isn't generally what I associate with my old jeans!
The place was packed and the band played for three hours non-stop. They were brilliant - they've made their careers about paying tribute to one of the most influential, ground-breaking bands ever to grace this earth - and they do so with style, grace, passion and buckets of ability. Watching them play, it was clear how much they love Pink Floyd. There were a few times when it was almost like we were trespassing on a private transcendental moment, they became totally at one with their beloved music.
Perfect Alibi have certainly helped in my journey to stop that voice in my head that mocks tribute bands. And I want to thank them for reminding me how much fun a night out in The Brook is. To The Brook I want to say this: I will be back soon, I've missed my comfy jeans.
Running Up That Hill
I've made a decision. It is a decision that hundreds of people make every day, and something I've wanted to do for a long time, but never had the courage to do. I'm going to join a gym. The reason I've been too scared to join one is because of the judgement and disgust I imagine the instructors would have about me. I've spent so long being ashamed, but the idea of seeing that judgement I have of myself reflected in someone elses eyes has been too much for me to face. Only now things are beginning to change. I still have a long way to go, but the five stone I've lost so far is beginning the stirrings of confidence somewhere within. I feel like if I do see that judgement I'm expecting in their eyes, then I can counter it with 'fuck off, I'm doing really well' - even if I just say it in my head. I'm getting my life back, as I've said before, and this is my next step. Only this time, it's a really big, and pretty scary step.
Friends Will Be Friends, Until The End
This is likely to be the first time, and quite possibly the last time that I'll say something good about myself on here. I generally think that I am a reasonable friend (that's as positive a comment about myself as you're likely to get I'm afraid!). If a friend is in pain or despair or is after advice or just in need of a lift or something, then if it's within my power to help I absolutely will. This weekend I was faced with a dilemma. I had a friend who I've known for 17 years in a lot of pain and asking for my help. The problem was the help was in the form of counselling support for their fiance. Part of me just wanted to say 'of course' because I wanted to make what they were both going through more bearable. Then the professional side of me knew that my answer had to be 'no'. I can't ethically give counselling to someone who is connected to me. My desire to help was conflicting with my professional sensibilities. I could give them information on where they could get the help they needed, but I couldn't (can't) provide it myself. So in a moment very foreign to me, I had to say to my friend I couldn't do what they wanted me to do. I felt awful. I felt like I'd betrayed a long friendship by saying I wouldn't help when they reached out to me.
This desire to help people whenever I possibly can comes from two places. The first is that I genuinely care if people are in pain and I want to make their lives easier and happier places to be. The other is less true now than it has been, but still has a hangover into today so warrants mentioning. That is that if I make myself useful to people they'll continue to be my friend because I'm useful to have around. In short I would be buying my place in their circle because I didn't believe they really wanted to be my friend. I'm not writing this because I want people to contradict it or because I want people's pity. I'm writing it because hearing it and continuing to work on it post therapy helps me to let it go.
In a very rare moment this weekend I put myself first. I said no to helping a friend (well, I did help because I told them they could talk to me as a good listener etc., and found out information on where they could get counselling support from). Quelle surprise, they were fine with that and we're still friends! I think they call it growth!
This desire to help people whenever I possibly can comes from two places. The first is that I genuinely care if people are in pain and I want to make their lives easier and happier places to be. The other is less true now than it has been, but still has a hangover into today so warrants mentioning. That is that if I make myself useful to people they'll continue to be my friend because I'm useful to have around. In short I would be buying my place in their circle because I didn't believe they really wanted to be my friend. I'm not writing this because I want people to contradict it or because I want people's pity. I'm writing it because hearing it and continuing to work on it post therapy helps me to let it go.
In a very rare moment this weekend I put myself first. I said no to helping a friend (well, I did help because I told them they could talk to me as a good listener etc., and found out information on where they could get counselling support from). Quelle surprise, they were fine with that and we're still friends! I think they call it growth!
And When I'm Lost And Torn, A Soldier Of Orange, I.
Today is National Self Injury Awareness Day. Apparently. According to the facebook page you can become a 'fan' of (seriously, wtf, become a fan of being aware that people intentionally injure themselves??), you're meant to wear a different colour according to your involvement with all things self-injury related. It says you have to wear orange (only on 1st March, I don't mean everyday here) if you do cut or burn (etc etc) yourself, orange and white if you have but you're in 'recovery' and just white if you're supportive of people who do self injure. So my question is, when you do you go from orange to orange and white?
It's been a while since I last cut. I can't tell you exactly when the last time was. Which probably means something, because I used to be able to tell you in days when it was. I'm now trying to do the maths. I can remember recent times I've wanted to. In the spirit of honesty, the most recent thought was this afternoon, the most time I had an argument with myself about it was last night. The last time the pain within was so bad I had to reach out to a good friend with the tears rolling as I text them was several months ago.
So does that make me orange because I wanted to do it, or orange and white because I wanted to but didn't? When does an SI-er become a recovering SI-er? For me these labels aren't a good idea. If I say I'm orange, then I feel like I'm giving in to it, and making it more of a part of my life than it is or needs to be. If I say I'm orange and white, then the pressure to stay there is immense, and the more the pressure to not do it, the more an issue it becomes.
I'm not going to make a conscious effort to wear orange or orange and white or white on 1st March. It's something I'm painfully aware of every time I look at my arms, or my belly or my chest or my ankle or my hand. It's not something I am only aware of one day a year. I wish it were, it would make life much easier!
If it brings comfort or help or support to other people. Or perhaps more importantly understanding to people who think it's some stupid thing teenagers do when playing up, then great. But it's not for me.
It's been a while since I last cut. I can't tell you exactly when the last time was. Which probably means something, because I used to be able to tell you in days when it was. I'm now trying to do the maths. I can remember recent times I've wanted to. In the spirit of honesty, the most recent thought was this afternoon, the most time I had an argument with myself about it was last night. The last time the pain within was so bad I had to reach out to a good friend with the tears rolling as I text them was several months ago.
So does that make me orange because I wanted to do it, or orange and white because I wanted to but didn't? When does an SI-er become a recovering SI-er? For me these labels aren't a good idea. If I say I'm orange, then I feel like I'm giving in to it, and making it more of a part of my life than it is or needs to be. If I say I'm orange and white, then the pressure to stay there is immense, and the more the pressure to not do it, the more an issue it becomes.
I'm not going to make a conscious effort to wear orange or orange and white or white on 1st March. It's something I'm painfully aware of every time I look at my arms, or my belly or my chest or my ankle or my hand. It's not something I am only aware of one day a year. I wish it were, it would make life much easier!
If it brings comfort or help or support to other people. Or perhaps more importantly understanding to people who think it's some stupid thing teenagers do when playing up, then great. But it's not for me.
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