Thursday 28 February 2013

Love and diet

Today I noticed that my relationship with love is similar to my relationship with food. In the same way I, like so many women, can't help falling for men who are no good for me and will do nothing for my self esteem I can't help eating foods which are bad for me which I'm allergic too or are doing no favours for my thighs.
We cannot ignore the part of our brain that controls attraction, desire, aesthetic appreciation or sensory need.
A bar of chocolate is like the boy that leads me on but doesn't really care about me. They are beautiful, they appeal to all my senses, my brain impulsively craves them, wants them, needs them. The fact that I know I shouldn't have them makes them all the more desirable-we are all familiar with the forbidden fruit concept.
As a lactose intolerant (without even referring to the fattening side of it) chocolate is bad for me, for my inside and my outside. Similarly a badboy is bad news for my body image, my self esteem and my heart.
The ones that treat you well-food and men-are always there, always in your fridge or your life yet somehow they seem like more work, they seem scarier, like more of a commitment. Just like a healthy diet a relationship with a good guy requires balance and compromise. While we can see all the benefits in the long term we sometimes don't realise the short term benefits for our bodies and minds.
I guess it's intriguing to consider that we always know what we need, want what we can't have and our mindset in a moment can effect our attitude in everyday life. I only hope that as I get back on my feet and into the gym I can throw the bad relationships out with my bad attitude and my junk food and focus on me and what will do me good- what we want in the short term rarely reflects what we want in the long term.
Maybe a change in lifestyle will lead to a change of mindset...and ultimately a change of heart.

Wednesday 27 February 2013

Communication

Why is it that sometimes the closer you are to someone the harder it is to say some thing? Like 'I love you' or 'I'm sorry'.
Whenever I fight with my mum I always write her an apology note because if I say it out loud I run the risk of adding a but or starting things up again like a fool...
Whenever my ex and I talk about feeling we sit back to back or I lie on his chest because if we look in each others eyes its too hard to articulate everything we're feeling at once...
recently I've noticed I have one friend that its actually easier to explain things face to face because through email its too impossible to express everything you mean, you can't demonstrate, you cant inflect, you can't really emote.
Even the simplest of vague phrases require thorough explanation through any means other than talking.
I guess it doesn't matter what medium you're using to communicate the more important the person and the more important the thing you're trying to say you need to communicate differently to how you normally do; because something is different and part of you knows you can't just say it like 'pass the milk' or 'knock knock' or 'your mom'.

Tuesday 26 February 2013

Sleeping positions

I think you can tell a lot about someone from the way they sleep;straight as a rid and tucked in tight, on their face and drooling, cured up in a ball or splayed out like a starfish.
Part of our subconscious must influence how we sleep just like it influences what or whether we dream. Does it show the secret side to our personality? If so does sleeping over at someones house mean your risk revealing something of yourself? (although if you're a sleep talker or walker then it probably always will!).
We're never sure what kind of sleeper we are til someone tells us- my mum once revealed to me that I shouted out phrases such as 'TOFFEE APPLES' in my sleep and an ex claims I snore like a middle aged man.
While I'm a huge fan of s[spooning I've had many a friend complain that, while pre-sleep I'm a delightful bedfellow, once unconscious I'm like an energetic pop star or a cornered street fighter-all flailing limbs, sudden movements and practically turning upside down!
Over the last few years I've really got to know who of my friends sleeps how. We have a great deal of snorers and a number of wrigglers. The most interesting are those who lie flat on their backs like Dracula and don't seem to twitch at all-so controlled, so secretive, so self-conscious. Those who sleep one their faces, bum in the air (the classic KO into bed pose)-completely unashamed, secure, natural. Those who curl up, wrapped around the duvet with an arm under the pillow-cosy, comforted, warm, friendly, inviting. The starfishes come off confident, assertive, open, fun,crazy.
I think there is nothing more intimate than seeing how someone sleeps because it really does reveal their most vulnerable side-asleep we are all children, our faces soften, our walls come down and our body language cannot hide the innocent peaceful natural beauty in all of us when we sleep.

Monday 25 February 2013

The talk

The talk. Generally I am a very open person and I'm happy to talk about just about anything; I usually make it easy for other people to talk to me about anything-even an issue they have with me. There is only one thing that I find difficult and that is the talk. I'm talking about the conversation that you kinda have to have with the person  you like, the moment when you have to define the relationship, the rules and the boundaries and where you risk revealing parts of yourself and your feelings that might not be reciprocated, that might not be compatible with the feelings of this oh so important individual.
Where do you start and how do you start it? Normally some one says 'we need to talk' the other agrees and then...nothing...usually awkward silence while you both try to formulate everything you've been thinking into some word that isn't 'ehhhhhh'.
My closest friend and ex boyfriend is able to talk to me about anything and he's the first person I go to if I need to talk about something yet when we actually need to talk about our feelings for one another it's suddenly impossible. He can't look at me if we need to have the talk. I become completely vague and inarticulate.
I can understand the obvious need for the talk but at the same time can't help feeling that in order to have the talk you already have to be quite secure in your relationship. The talk is dangerous, the talk is scary but the talk is like life- you want answers but you're not sure you can handle them. AT the end of the day we can live in fear or grow with bravery.

Disappointment

After guilt, I think disappointment is the worst feeling in the world. I think this is because to be disappointed you had to have hope before, and with hope being as powerful as it is its opposite is equally emotionally potent.
There's nothing more awful than having your expectations crushed. Even if someone does not intend to disappoint you or let you down its impossible not to feel that way. Its not an emotion we can control in ourselves or in others. When you've been thinking about a date for weeks and then they have to cancel, when you've been looking forward to dinner and you get home and someone's eaten what you were hoping to, when you've been waiting all day for a visit from a friend and then they're late.
Recently I've been dealing with a lot more disappointment than I'm used to. I didn't get the grade I hoped for in one or two assignments at college, I wasn't cast in any of the productions I auditioned for recently, I have been dumped by more than one person since starting college and I have had to miss my dance exams due to breaking my leg.
Part of me definitely wants to give in under the crushing weight of this disappointment, I know all things are temporary and that I'll be back on top soon but some days it can feel like there is no point in bothering at anything.
I don't know how other people feel about disappointment but for me it can be crippling when it happens. The best way I can see about keeping hope in your life is to remember all the people who never let you down, all the things you're good at, all the things you can achieve and even just the fun of trying new things and learning from your failures can remind you that disappointment now and then is unavoidable but without trying things neither can we achieve, learn, grow, change or be successful.

Committment

Yesterday I realized that I have an irrational fear I didn't realize I had.... commitment. As someone who has always been a serial monogamist this came as a surprise to me. But I'm not just afraid of commitment in my love life- I'm afraid of it in all the areas of my life.
A part of me perceives this commitment phobia as a manifestation of my need not to be defined by any one factor of my life or personality. I feel I need to always be juggling multiple roles and multiple identities, sister,  daughter, friend, player, classmate, writer, student, artist, person. I can never commit myself to one hobby-its as though I'd rather be a jack of all trades than a master of one..
Another part of me knows that my new-found fear of commitment is really just the fear of hurting or being hurt... I love easily and fall in love almost as quickly but the factors of the world around you can make these simple things scary; doubt, lust , circumstance, stress, differences of opinion. I have loved many times but I guess I can say I've only been in love once. Since then I'm afraid that no one else will give me the same thing I had with my first love, on the other hand I'm afraid that some one will be able to give me the same things, but it means I have to leave that first love behind to open myself to something new. I've never been able to pursue a feeling, the feeling and the person has always found me. I'm afraid to commit any feeling to someone in case they bail on me, and maybe because part of me is still committed to my first love and I'm not ready to let that go yet.
I've finally begun to understand why men are afraid of commitment, it leaves you open to hurt and to hurting someone and it closes you to opportunities with people who you might not yet have found potential in.

Saturday 23 February 2013

Bad dancing

Now normally I cannot stand bad dancing, it irks me a tad but today I was reminded of the more powerfully brilliant aspects of it!
As someone who loves to dance and has trained in it it's sometimes impossible to fathom how people can't feel or move with the rhythm. Last night I went to town with some friends of mine to celebrate one of the boys' 21st. It wasn't a busy night and it was an sort of rock music night with lots of metally rocker types. Our group was a seriously motley crew which actually made it all the more fun.
I had several moments where  just had to stop and look around the group. One of the boys danced like a mildly intoxicated stripper, another rocking the jerky moves seen mostly on 70s top of the pops, one intensely absorbed in an epileptic  a couple doing the classic male knee bend and head bob and one standing stock still until we partyboyed him and forcibly span him around!
For me it was not my usual night on the town and it wasn't the kind of music I would normally dance to but I couldn't help feeling all warm and fuzzy looking around the faces of my friends, new and old, as they just enjoyed themselves! I was nearly crying laughing at some points ad other times i found I was boogying in the same carried away who-gives-a-fuck kind of way.
It's a bit sentimental and sappy but I felt s full of love watching the boys awkwardly gyrating or bobbing or head banging alternately in a totally natural way and a totally self-conscious way. I had a lot of fun plus I got plenty of laughs, hugs and they even danced in the seated area with me because I can't be around strobe lights sometimes. The whole experience just resonated with me more than usual. The dancing just seemed like a representation of all the funny quirky things I love about my friends.

Wednesday 20 February 2013

Guilty pleasures

I want to know, nay, I need to know why pleasures need to be guilty. We all know why we indulge our guilty pleasures-because they make us happy, they make us feel oh so good. I just can't understand why we have to feel guilty for indulging our base desires.
Think about it; you eat a big 'ol slice of chocolate cake and afterwards you feel the weight of guilt upon you; a little voice saying 'that's not good for you' or 'you've spoilt your dinner' or 'a moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips'.
Likewise when you go out to a club and get caught up in the music and, for most people, the alcohol and you just want to kiss  someone or be with someone (lets face it you are horny). Yet the moment we act on that impulse along with satisfaction rolls in shame the monster that eats away all the positive aspect of any experience and leave you with only regret.
You enjoy a good meal out and you think about food going to waste at home, you go out the night and then spend the next day agonising over how broke you are, you tell someone how you feel about them then beat yourself up over how much that could have fucked things up, you agree to meet someone then get bothered by having to organise everything around it.
The worst is the simplest things, little things. Like being embarrassed when you realise you're enjoying a busted song, or being unable to tell anyone that you've gotten really into knitting, or that despite being a straight man your favourite colour is lilac.
Why do we feel like we can't enjoy something without justifying it,; we never justify things when we're miserable, its as thought we feel like boredom and mild unhappiness are our birthright and not adventure or excitement or happiness.
I say we should try to do one thing without regret every day. One fun thing, an enlightening thing, a freeing thing. Doing your homework and not regretting it is normal, as is leaving early so you get the bus on time. Go for it-do something magical. Indulge yourself. Let your insticnts lead you just once in a day, every day and see how much more joy you get out of life.

Monday 18 February 2013

Feelin that high

I have just arrived home completely buzzed outta my mind! Not surprisingly to you who know me or regularly read this blog I am not drunk, nor have I taken any form of narcotic. I my internet chums am high on the magic of THEATRE. Yes I did just say something that flamboyant. If i wasn't typing there may have been accompanying jazzhands.
Today was my first real production as a director. I've been running on high since the process began on Sunday. Having met the writer and received the script on Saturday finally getting to get into things with the cast was unbelievable.
Even from just doing a cold reading there was an energy and a chemistry between the actors which was very exciting. Every direction I gave them, every sub textual thought I encouraged them to emote and every gesture I choreographed they managed to take and and make it real. The process was surprisingly natural; we were very luck to have a cast and a script that just seemed to fit together and it was almost effortless. Despite having only 24 hours to learn their lines as well as the staging, the expressions, the intonations, everything it seemed to just pour outta them like their own words and reactions.
The writer and I were watching the actors run through their lines together we felt like proud parents. We'd been completely caught up in it during the last rehearsal; drawn into it despite knowing exactly what was happening and what was going to happen!
I was buzzing with the nerves when our show was up. We were part of a collaboration of short one-scene plays and we were second to last. I introduced the show (like an absolute nervous fool I may add!) and as I settled back to watch i was nearly clutching the writer in anticipation.
They were flawless though, they did it exactly how we hoped and more. It was just magical to see something go from words on a page to a real life experience that you actually felt right in your heart. Hearing the audience reactions, from laughter to sober silence to sympathy. It was intoxicating. I honestly felt so proud and just incredibly satisfied to have been part of the process.
Truly on a high like nothing else right now!

Sunday 17 February 2013

Tea

It is my educated opinion that tea is the elixir of life. I am not kidding. No matter what kind of day I have had, no matter what stress or heartache or exams or trials and tribulations I have had to struggle through in a day if I can just get a cup of tea into me its like a deep relaxing breath.
Not for me the hot bath (i have a tendency to get headrushes and faint as I vacate the tub), nor the lure of chocolate nor even my bed; on those days when one has lost the will to do anything other than take up space on planet earth the only thing that can resurrect me is the humble cuppa.
It isn't just the magical resurrective powers of caffeine or the restorative comfort of a warm beverage; there is a certain magic in tea. As an Irish cailín its not only part of national culture but it is in our very genes to be addicted to tea. Any Irish person I have met who doesn't like tea has been shunned like those weird people who hate bacon or have never seen a Disney film!
Disliking tea is essentially a sin in this country; I'm fairly sure it's in the 'How To Be A Good Catholic' handbook! I personally would not survive a week without tea. A bad day would probably end in murder or suicide without the calming effect of tea!
all this talk about tea has made me feel positively poetic; if I were musical I would write an ode to tea, and serenade it with Spanish guitar, if i were a painter I would create a work of art celebrating the glory of tea, if I were a politician I would make a law declaring tea a national treasure and if I were pope I would place a saintly blessing on all the people who make the tea that keeps me functioning!
But I have no power or talent to sufficiently show tea my appreciation, so instead I wrote this blog post to say; thank heavens for Tea.

Saturday 16 February 2013

Matters of the heart - Attraction

Part of me is unhappy with having heart in the title of this post; perhaps it should be hormones, or, conversely, mind. I've been thinking more and more lately about what it is that draws me to certain people, what are the attractive qualities that most appeal to me, what part of me it is that's attracted to them. Why can some people have eyes only for one person, no matter how that person feels or how they treat them? How is it that others are always attracted to multiple people and struggle to commit to one attraction.
Personally I have identified different kinds of attraction in my own experience. There's one boy who I literally just want, not exactly in a sexual way but just in a he will be mine kind of way; perhaps the unattainability of him is what makes it so difficult not to have a pang of yearning when I see him. Another kind of attraction is that residual feeling you always have for someone you've had something with before, its comfortable, you know what to expect and you know what you like about them and how to avoid what you dislike about them. When it's someone you've loved you can't help but be drawn to everything you know to be good about them. There are some who are purely physically attractive, mr sexy in the club when you're high on life and just need to press up against somebody;the thrill of the unknown, the thrill of knowing they want you just because they think you're miss sexy, its flattering and exciting. Finally there's the person you like because you connect mentally, someone who sees you for who you are and how you think, who really listens to your opinions and who's opinions you find yourself caring about. That person who isn't obligated to take an interest in your mind or your feelings, who you don't expect to compliment you, who you don't expect to suddenly find yourself attracted to.
I guess this is why you can sometimes love someone and still be attracted to a stranger, to still want to have a conversation with that old friend and still think fondly of your ex. Having been in love though, one discovers that attraction pales away in comparison to that connection; it doesn't stop attraction being compelling but it sure helps not to have to depend on attraction and analyse where it's going.

Friday 15 February 2013

Sexy sex

It is no wonder the youth of today are so messed up. I have been watching tv for the last couple of hours and literally everything is about sex. You can see full nudity on standard television these days. I'm not trying to imply that I'm some sort of prude but I honestly think there is some serious sex overkill in modern tv.
My younger brother is nearly 13 and tbh I think he's kissed more people than I have. When I was his age I think I'd only had one or to unrequited crushes and I'd never so much as kissed a boy on the cheek. When my brother was just 7 a girl in his class apparently showed him her bra. A 7 year old. Showing a boy her bra. A 7 year old. Wearing a bra! What is the world coming to?
I do have a skewed view to sex I'll admit it. I've had a few pushy boyfriends. I've had a few vulgar rumours spread about me. This means that unlike most of my peers at university I'm not really up to the casual sex with friends/strangers thing just yet. I grew up in a time when 'The Simpsons' was considered adult humour, a time when MTV played music rather than broadcasting shows about pregnant teenagers and pageants where toddlers dance about like strippers.
I realise I sound like an auld biddy bemoaning the good old days and blaming the media and technology for ruining the youth of today.I realise I also sound like a bit of a prude. I do genuinely feel though that sex shouldn't become something that is as casual as eating your lunch or going to the bathroom. There's got to be a little something behind it. Not necessarily romance, not everyone feels that way, but something; passion, thrill,excitement, something that means you need it, you have to have it. Not just that you should because you can, or you're bored, or because everyone else is.

Writing

One of the things I have noticed since starting this blog is just how interesting the process of writing is. Sometimes the words pour out easily, flowing together cohenrantly as naturally as thinking. SOmetimes its hard to string together your thoughts, ideas seem t slip through your fingers mid sentence and your left staring at the page wondering how to get your head and the piece straight. Somtimes you write in the vernacular, words typed as though you are speaking them to a friend and other days they appear with a surprising poetry , a rythm and pattern and eloquent phrasing. Someitmes you barely need to look over something to know that it came out pure as a dream, other days the number of squigly red lines and awkward phrsaes seems to indicate that a second class child was typing your gabbled dictation.
I guess the beauty of writing is there are so many styles, so many voices, so many words and phrases and forms to it. Literature is my favourite part of my course at college, I love looking at the difference between poetry, plays, novels, short stories, films; the magic of how different media transform stories.
Even the difference between comedy, tragedy, romance; like all the different perszonalities of the poeple in your life tell their stories, all the different styles of written expression tell the stories we enjoy every day.
I guess I just find the process magical- its like thinking in a much more physical way; sometimes abstract and surreal, sometimes tructured and purposeful, sometimes themed, sometimes linked uo with a dozen ither ideas. Sometimes there is one singular thought. One singular theme or word or phrase. today the one concept is 'writing'.

That oh so significant V day

So it's valentines day and I'm gonna be honest and say its not a holiday that's ever meant a whole lot to me. For just 3 out of 19 valentines days have I had a boyfriend but not once have I spent Valentines with someone special. One year I was on a school trip; though the Spaniard did bring me a rose when I got back. The following year I had exams so I didn't get to see my beloved and last year I was away on a senior hockey trip to Barcelona. Last year I did receive a truly memorable and spectacular homemade card though, which I opened while I was in Spain. My boyfriend had spelt out 'will you be my valentine' using elements of th eperiodic table and had described the history of our relationship using science jokes n dlines. It nearly made me cry it was so perfect.
For the most part I've never been one of those girls who bitches ansd mouns about being single on valentines day, nor have I ever had the opportunity to be on of those annoying 'I'm in the perfect realtionship' types either. I don't have anything agasint the concept of Valentines Day; I think its nice to celebrate something thats so lovely-love! Once you've been in love, even after you fall out of it, you never forget how great the feeling is an dyou cannt hate people for wanting t celebrate it.
Despite 3 different group night out on the town invites and one offer of casual sex To see what would happen (purely in the interest of science) I posted that I was available for Val's Day. I can say without hesitation that I was surprised by the response My facebook fiancee obviously weighed in and asked me to be her valentine, a friend of a friend very generously proferred the 'guaranteed shift' and finally a very close friend asked me on a bona fide date which completely surprised me!
While unfortunately my valentine had to work on the special day after all and I didn't get to see him the very idea that he wanted TO spend a romantic occasion with lil 'ol me was enough to have me feeling warm and fuzzy all day. I went home quickly after college and because my date was canceled I got to see Django with my mum and two younger brothers. My mum wasn't exactly lined up for a romantic day so it was nice to share chocolates and enjoy some romantic shootings and explosions and supreme overuse of the N word.
IN my opinion Valentines has become less and less about romance; if your in a relationship its about flaunting your good fortune, if you aren't its about finding someone for the night or about showing how ok you are with yourself and with being single. For almost all my peers its all about sex.
Once again I lament that these days people have replaced romance with sex. Before if you were single you spent the day with your friends who you loved or you sat home and appreciated a good rom-com or had 'anti valentines day' and watched something totally mush free and told yourself you wouldn't want all the hassle of love anyway.
The hassle of love is definitely there. I spent the evening of valentines day watching an animated comedy with my ex boyfriend. The hassle of love and all its difficulties was eventually the death of our relationship but not of our friendship. At the end of the day it was not romantic, we watched Archer, but it was lovely; there were cuddles, there was toblerone and at the end of the day while we might not be all lovely dovey we were in love once and we still love each other, as friends and as a big part of each others lives.
I guess this is a very round about post but it was a very round about day. I saw love in all its various forms yesterday, the way I love my family, my friends, new prospects, slightly overzealous propositions, inappropriate over sexualisation and plain old story book L-O-V-E.

Bus faces

Today I couldn't help noticing just how depressed people look on the bus. Literally the standard bus riding expression is neutrality, boredom or out and out depression! (this obviously excludes those like the only other passenger on my bus today who was asleep).
I think I may have too much personality to ride the bus. Firstly I hobble on far too conspicuously with the crutches and my bright clothes. Secondly I almost always fall. Thirdly I always listen to music and when I do I have to either bob my head or tap my foot. Occasionally a song makes my smile, or droop, or mouth the words. I also very occasionally shimmy my shoulders or my hips (little embarrassing).
Lately I've had to sit up the from of the bus because of my injury but usually I like to sit somewhere where I can observe the other passengers. People watching is fascinating and my be one of my favourite activities.
While I usually watch the fashion show of students in the arts block it is equally intriguing to have a look at the total strangers around you on the bus. The little old lady who can't stop checking through her handbag for some misplaced item. The man in the suit who seems to be willing the bus forward with ever fiber of his being. The little kid who hops on the bus and is so excited for the moment he gets to push the button and the weary father carrying his fireman sam rucksack.
 The majority of the people stare straight ahead or out the window. Most are plugged into some form of technology, listening to an ipod, reading a kindle or texting someone. Their faces are weary, sleepy because its early and they wish they were back in bed, fed up because the bus was light and they should have been at their destination ages ago, tired because it has been a long day. Some of the elderly ones look like they're just concentrating on getting there, the younger ones as though they wish they were anywhere else and the middle agers as though their minds are on other things.
The people on the dart tend to be much more animated; often travelling in groups, often rustling a paper or playing a game. Similarly people who walk or even drive. I exposed myself as a non bus regular on valentines day by smiling like a goober at my phone the whole way and even giggling at one or two of the texts a rather sweet boy sent me.
I don't think I'm above the bus face though; I've been told before that there are times when I wear the classic 'bus face' of doom and gloom while cycling to college. I guess we all travel on auto-pilot from time to time and in this zombie mode our natural expression is one of gloominess, disinterest and exhaustion.

Tuesday 12 February 2013

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

This isn't about missing people. I want to talk about missing parts of yourself or your life. To put this in context, I have been in some form of leg brace or cast since the end of October. I feel as if I am missing a huge part of my life. It difficult to go out socially, when I'm in college I can barely walk far enough to go for lunch with my friends and most of all I miss dancing.
I;m generally an extremely active person. I cycle to and from college, I go to the gym and pool. I dance two or three times a week and am a member of a number of sports societies. I was also returning to parkour this year when I discovered that I'd displaced a bone and needed an operation to fix the damage. More than anything I'm devastated to be missing my dance exams this year.
While the experience of wearing a leg brace and the last two  months on crutches have been physically and mentally exhausting and I've been pretty downhearted about the impingement on my ability to socialize the most difficult part for me has been being unable to dance. More than any other kind of exercise (and I love to exercise) dancing feels like an integral part of not just my life but myself. While I'm trained in several styles-to performance level in some-I need to dance everyday. Not always properly, sometimes not even well, but music moves a part of me deep inside and I cant keep the feelings inside.
When I'm cooking in the kitchen I stretch and balance on one leg, when I;m brushing my teeth I shimmy and tap my feet and when I'm alone in my room I bust out routines to whatever's on the radio. Not being able to club the last while has contributed hugely to the longing to dance building up in my heart. Even people who don't like to dance know the euphoria you can feel when the combination of heat and pumping music and thinly disguised sexual tension hits you-it carries you away from yourself.
It is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder-I never realized before now just how deep rooted my passion for dance was. It's probably why I've felt the need to express my creativity even more than usual; such as through my blogs and my play-writing and sewing etc.
I guess I'm a passionate individual and due to being crippled physically (and as a result socially!) I've been missing myself. Soon I'll be back on my feet and hopefully back to myself. Absence from myself will certainly stop being so 'fond' and start driving me mental if it goes on much longer.

Monday 11 February 2013

I'm ever so shy

I have yet to meet one single person who would describe me as shy but since this blog is all about me and my honest thoughts I have to say that I genuinely am very shy. I'm quite self conscious around people who I amn't close to and being a typical female I have much lower self esteem than I present myself to. Probably the time I'm shyest is with people I really like.
Once again I would expect that anyone I've been romantically involved with would disagree with me but it is very much true. I second guess everything I say and do around someone I have a crush on and when I'm around them I'm embarrassingly preoccupied with how I might appear to them. When I'm not around the object of my affection it's easy to tell myself that I'm very secure and fabulous and they aren't worth it if they don't love me for who I am....as soon as they appear my inner me reverts to my awkward 12 year old self who is positively terrified of revealing the fact that I am secretly a boring loser with myriad uncool hobbies and tendencies.
I like being myself and I generally like to think that my uncool aspects, my quirks and my flaws make me who I am. Sadly it is quite normal to every so often wish you were a little different in order to impress someone who you just think is the bees knees. No matter what we may say, everyone secretly wants other people to be interested in them, to think they're cool, in a way to validate their opinions of themself. When we meet someone who we're really attracted to their opinion becomes the one we most want to appeal to.

Sunday 10 February 2013

Technology

I am writing this post as a fuck you to the internet and my laptop who so caringly teamed up to delete the post i wrote last night and because I wrote it in the middle of the night I have no recollection of what it was about. Most of what I remember is actually just odd things that I dreamt about like being a rabbit or dancing in the bolshoi theatre.
So unbelievably frustrated right now.

Family

Today has been one of those days where my feelings for my family have swung wildly from love to hate in the most bipolar of fashions! Having been out two nights in a row this weekend I was not exactly enthused by having, on top of the usual parents and the lads, my aunt and cousin. Living at home really does remind me constantly that I am still considered a child. I was told to clean my room, not to eat in the living room and that I was to choose either the tv or my laptop or I could go to my room. I was also admonished for swearing. All before midday. Sometimes I become overwhelmed with the teenage angst; it doesn't help your case when wanting to be treated when you end up throwing a tantrum and declaring that you are 'almost twenty years old and should be allowed to effing swear and wear your pyjamas all day if you so please!'.
On the other hand I have since had a lovely girly coffee with my mum and aunt escaping from the all-male totalitarian regime of my home life. Most of the afternoon has also been spent working together to set the table and prepare a big meal for a family night here tonight and suddenly having all these people around is less irritating and more cosy. It could be because I've gained control of the remote or it could be that deep down I do love these absolute pains that, but for blood and marriage, I might not otherwise know. When it's mellow like this you can't help realising that your family members are pretty epic people; even if you do occasionally wish they would go live with and borrow someone else.
Like good friends, there are times when the fact that they drive you mad half the time probably actually makes you love them more because you know you wouldn't put up with their nonsense if you didn't love them so much. I know myself that I can be an irritating person, I can have a quick temperature and get emotional around my (poor) family a lot. My last relationship made me realise that its those times when you hate someone you love that make you look at yourself and remember that you too are more than capable of being a pain but if they can love you in spite of that its only polite to remember to love them back!

Saturday 9 February 2013

Prince(ss) Charming

Today I was blog browsing and I came across a post with reasons why the blogger considered themself to be charming. While it was interesting to read i thought the blogger had perhaps mistaken the meaning of 'charming' (examples included 'I used to had a speech impediment' and 'I sing to my chinchilla'....sidenote wtf is a chinchilla?). This got me thinking about what constitutes as charming these days. As I've said before, modern courtship rituals are somewhat lacking in the traditional nuances that used to classify as romance; such as conversation, manners or not staring at someones breasts (or penis I suppose). I'm not sure charming is technically a real thing anymore.
That said if i was to try to define charming I'd have to use a lot of the qualities of a certain friend of mine. He has been described by mother as having a 'handsome voice'. He's pleasantly softly spoken and has perfect manners. He's one of those people who could throw down a vulgar line and it'll come off as funny and sweet!
Charming is probably a viable description of the 'gent'. A modern lad who'll still offer to carry a girls bag or hold a door open for her or walk her home/to the dart etc. This doesn't necessarily 'charm' a girl but it certainly keeps alive the idea that chivalry is not dead!
As a woman I have rarely had to charm someone and thinking about it now I'd probably be just as lost about what to do as your average male. It would seem to me that the key is compliments (bitches love compliments!). The other night for instance a friend told me that he loved that I was so different and not afraid to be my own person and I honestly swooned a bit.
i think the most difficult thing about the idea of charming is that its all relative to attraction anyway. Something that's charming coming from a guy you like can be sleazy or creepy form a guy you simply can't stand. I would love to be a charming individual; in adult company I've been described as charming in the sense of sociable and engaging but it's not quite the same sentiment as a man being a charmer.
I'm taking note that I must do some further study into this area and explore the concept of charm. The combination of natural appeal, deliberate behaviour and politeness of character makes it a most complex quality indeed.

Last Friday Night

Yesterday I made three rather botched attempts to write something but between having family over and going to a party last night and working through a few things today I just haven't really been able to follow a thought through well enough to write something coherent. This blog is all about honesty, just writing my own pure thoughts and occasionally creative or abstract things that I write down. So I'm just going to honestly say that my brain isn't really working today.
Messed up sleep patterns, emotional turmoil and busy day at home are enough to mess up your head. Today I look like a hangover. I'v had three days or broken sleep and went to a gaff last night that ended up with people just sitting watching mtv with a couple of cans. Not exactly the rave up I was hoping for to ring in my weekend. My so-called 'mate' decided it would be funny to rip a giant hole in my favourite tights which I bought in France and I was drunkenly kissed by a good friend which will probably be gossped about by our group for a little while now. While my tights are beyond repair the friend and I have sorted out any residual awkwardness and, having relaxed, I can appreciate a few more pleasant memories of last night. A brief rave, the lent episode of father ted, a very cosy cuddle and dmc and a sly conversation with my gay besty about how well hung a mutual friend might potentially be.
At the end of the day I have to remind myself sometimes that I'm still technically a feckin' teenager, there are going to be some off days but there's no need to treat them like a drama. There are more important things in life than feeling like you wasted an evening or hating your friend an unnecessary amount for ruining your tights. I mean c'mon lads, Valentines Day is coming up; I have far bigger things to worry about!

Thursday 7 February 2013

Sitting waiting..


A common topic of conversation around the arts block is what you do during those rare breaks when, despite the constant hustle and bustle of human traffic in the arts block, somehow no one you know is around. Many play it safe and ensure they always have some reading material at hand to while away the time, even if often it’s for show rather than because they are actually taking it in. There are those of us who often forget to bring a book and have to awkwardly mess around on our phones pretending to be doing something vaguely constructive or perhaps giving the impression of a late friend.
Often he best thing to do is to hit up the library; a place where staring into space and doing very little is considered a legitimate task. It’s also a particularly agreeable location for a casual nap. Its key flaw however is that one is forbidden to eat within the hallowed confines of the library.
Eating alone in the arts block is an exceptionally awkward activity. Even if you succeed in getting a fairly inconspicuous couch spot it is still hard not to look like the quintessential lonely soul. Again one must attempt to appear occupied; this is how my Russian book came to be full of crumbs sadly.
On a good day, lurking at college is great fun, plenty of people pass by, stop and chat, you feel energised by all the interaction and when you eventually head home or to a lecture you feel like you’ve spent all day with friends. On a lonely day you wonder if there’s been some sort of wild party the night before or an outbreak of the flu!
I guess waiting in a place full of people you will encounter and reencounter is the key issue here. We rarely feel awkward waiting in a dart station or at a bus, or even being alone on public transport because no matter how weird we may look or whatever stupid activity we may somehow publicly get up to we will not be recognised or remembered. It’s as though we strive to avoid appearing socially awkward in front of our peers even in a technically non-social setting. An odd instinct I suppose, but true nonetheless!

Wednesday 6 February 2013

i tired

Ok so lesbehonest this is the interweb so while just about anyone could read this blog no one really has to and most of my audience don't know me....yet I feel I have made a certain commitment to you kind folks who have bothered to read this little ramble fest (you may be mad to do so but I appreciate it muchly!). I shall be upfront with you internet-there will be no semi-eloquent expressions of abstract thought today, there will probably not be an interesting snippet from my day..there may not even be a passable degree of coherency (like my Spanish history essay or my texts when I was on morphine). I. Am. Tired. I am positively throttled with exhaustion (yes throttled). I am buggered, bushed, beat, broken consumed, burned out, worn, spent petered out and even pooped. I have passed through the mellow, snoozey, cuddly stage; past the hyperactive, pseudo-energised stage; past the flat, listless, staring-into-space stage and and am currently fading out of the staggering, incoherent, almost-drunk phase; I believe I am approaching conscious coma.
This daydream believer is ready to go after the homecoming queen, I am ready for mr. Sandman to bring me a dream (bababa...), it is time for my happy dreamysleepynightysnoozysnooze! The land of nod is calling my name like Hollywood calls aspiring actresses, stalkers and crack addicts. Unconscious oblivion is waiting to wrap me in her beautiful duvet arms and cradle me on her pillowy chest til my mind wanders further then it already has! I am well aware it is but 10pm during the midweek and most of my peers are merrily pre-drinking for the night ahead while I sit half blindly typing kept conscious only by the sugar from the cake I consumed on the train home with a certain birthday girl.
I think I might be magic because my hands seem to be typing independently of my brain which has packed up and gone home for the night. I think now would be an excellent time to bid ye fine online dwellers a good night and tomorrow I will try to produce something with a degree of purpose to it! Goodnight sweet prince; may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest..

Tuesday 5 February 2013

'Cos I'm quirky

I guess I started this blog just to have a creative outlet where I could just ramble free, its slightly more complex than that thought because this is of course the internet so I don't want strangers (or worse people I know!) discovering all my intimate secrets like how I'm secretly shy around guys or that I'm weirdly terrified of woodlice or how when I'm happy I like to listen to angry music.
My favourite song is Kate Nash's 'Mouthwash' because it is basically a collection of random phrases about herself and its exactly the kind of thing that goes through my head when I try to sum myself up. I'm an odd sock. I brush my teeth too much, I love bright lipstick, baking makes me calm, I can't stop doodling on my arms and I hate painting my nails. I love how the more you get to know any person you can define them by all the little things that make them up, the stuff that makes them happy, their obsessions, their passions.
I'm generally an open person, I'm always happy to answer questions about myself and I'm generally pretty happy about who I am. I think a lot of people think I'm more interesting and exciting than I am. With my over the top personality and my quirky clothes people have a tendency to assume I'm a party girl; that I like a social drink, the odd smoke; that I've dabbled in the odd bit of recreational drug use. My general inappropriateness  makes people think I'm a mad flirt too! i'm just a cheeky gal but I have no such hobbies. Sadly my life is at a similar level of rebellion to a 14 year old! The only vaguely wild things I've ever done were a couple of cheeky secret piercings and my tattoo that I got on my 16th birthday.
I guess I just like to be different, I don't like to be what people think I am or do what people expect of me; probably because I've always been such a goody two-shoes (coincidentally my nickname in primary school). Part of me is a rebel; wants to be one of those badasses that people are kind of in awe of. I settled for two toned hair and colourful clothing and some seriously epic friends; at the end of the day, being me was a lot quirkier than being a badass anyway!

Monday 4 February 2013

The need for something beautiful

Its human nature to have an awe and admiration for beauty; all references to the magnificence of deities are in the beauty they create rather than their destructive powers; any peace of music or artwork or literature that moves us is because of the beauty of it; when we love someone, as a friend or more it is because we see something beautiful in them. Perhaps this is why there is a creative spark in all of us, a need not just to seek out beauty but to create it; in a way to master and own it. 
We are too well acquainted with ourselves and our individual shortcomings to wholly accept the beauty that is already inherent in all of us. Passion is beautiful, emotion, strength or bravery, love and loyalty. We all possess stunning and inspiring traits. Every person had a beauty in their character just as every person has a physical beauty (some enviably more than others). 
One of the enigmas of beauty is how it is subjective; both a blessing and a curse. We all have different concepts of beauty. Different schools of art tried to dictate what was beautiful; clear cut shapes of Japanese woodcuts, detail and symmetry of classical works, the movement and colour of Impressionism, the geometric asymmetricality of post Impressionism... Each appealing in it's own right. 
People are the same; there is an aesthetic quality to every variation of the human form...I like to see the world as though I am creating a portrait of life, enhancing the pleasing qualities of all I experience. This does not mean ignoring the uglier aspects of everything but merely choosing to focus on the beauty. 
As I said before we all have a nee to possess beauty, to seek it out. This takes the form of expression through writing, clothing or music or even speaking. For others it's gathering interesting friends and nurturing relationships, creating memories that are beautiful or encouraging love. For others it's the more obvious pursuit of love, usually in youth this is the same as the pursuit of beauty; attraction, appeal. Something about having a beautiful person love you ( whether beautiful in the movie star sense or in the sense of how they are as a person) enhances the beauty f the world around you and your appreciation of it and indeed you own inherent beauty. It's extremely powerful. 
For me there are days when I just need to create something that is beautiful to me; to capture some beauty and have it for my own for a little while; to draw something or photograph something or sew something. The same way we sometimes need to go out and immerse ourselves in a crowd or listen to music loudly or feel something or kiss someone; creating beauty nurtures our human need to feel something, to be stimulated.
The most elusive of all feelings is that feeling that you are someone's beautiful thing; that your laughter warms their heart, that looking at you makes them think of poetry and music, that the touch of your hand is as beautiful as a sunset or an ocean view. Not only do we all strive to find beauty, but I believe a small part of us strives not just to create beauty but to be ourselves as beautiful as we can be, not in the ways of style magazine but in the purer sense of the term. Beauty defines all our lives in one way or another and I think is one of the things that make life what it is. A beautiful adventure.

Saturday 2 February 2013

So like are you into threesomes?

This is one of a number of questions I discussed with a female friend recently. Several of my friends would identify themselves as bisexuals and this is one of a handful of questions that seem to automatically come up when you mention you're bisexual.
It's so surprising to me that bisexuality is so often associated with polygamy and general promiscuity. They assume because you like multiple genders you must like multiple people generally. Hence the question 'So are you into threesomes?'.
Another ridiculously common question is 'so which do you prefer boys or girls?'. This one really irritates me; the whole meaning of bisexuality is that you like both genders. If you had a preference that would probably mean you weren't wholly bisexual.
I really dot understand why people think its perfectly ok to ask inappropriate questions or interrogate you about your sex life because you're bisexual. They wouldn't ask these questions of a straight person or even a gay person. Its hugely frustrating to be treated in this way just because you're not considered to be the 'normal' sexuality.
At the end of the day comments like 'bisexuality doubles your chances of a date on a Friday night' or 'oh you're just greedy/indecisive' might be funny in bisexual circles but to have your sexuality constantly belittled or be told it's 'not a real sexuality' is cruel and horrible. My own mother said she doesn't 'believe in bisexuality'. I guess my frustration stems from not understanding why bisexuality is any less valid than being hetero or homosexual.
Attitudes like this annoy me almost more than people being genuinely offensive; using terms like 'bent' or 'fag' or 'dyke'. These are words that a lot of the gay community try to re-appropriate or take on for themselves. A handful of bi friends of mine jokily call themselves the 'dyke crew' though I used to despise the term 'dyke' growing up. It's like anything else; whether short, tall, thin, fat, ginger etc. its got a lot to do with owning who you are and what you're about. I guess it kinda saps your self confidence a bit if people constantly belittle an integral part of who you are. Its equally difficult if they think its soooo fascinating and seem to consider it your definitive feature. Being 'the bisexual one' isn't how you want to be seen; just like you don't want to be 'the tall one' or 'the fat one' or god-forbid 'the ugly one'; even 'the hot one' isn't what you want. No one wants to be defined by a singular feature. I wouldn't mind being ' the quirky one' or 'the funny one' but we all have much more to us than any one thing-no matter how big a part of us it is.
I dislike anyone who makes assumptions about you based on one trait or based on appearances but especially inappropriately comments or asks questions they have no right to. People process things in different ways but some people don't realize how their comments can be perceived. Frustration I guess just motivated me to write something about this...

Chat up lines

I know that many girls consider the cheesy chat up line to be last refuge of the hopeless loser or the stupid sleaze of the over-confident flirt but in my opinion they are gold. I've just finished veritably spamming my friend's Facebook with cheesy quotes such as 'if you were a transformer you'd be Optimus Fiiiine'. (an important part of our online engagement is that my 'future wife' and I maintain a cheesy honeymoon atmosphere between us!). Personally the nerdier the chat up line the more impressed I am. I think if a boy pulled off using a LOTR reference to chat me up he might just steal my heart.
Let's be honest, we live in a technological world of instant gratification. Gone are the days where courtship took years and a decent girl wasn't coaxed into bed without a ring on her finger. While I'm not going to pretend I don't love a night out on the town hopefully gettin' the aul shift I'll admit that a bit of stimulating conversation before someone tries to stick their tongue in my mouth would be appreciated every so often. 
I believe that the cheesy pick up line may be the last remaining pointer towards a more romantic era. I lament that eye contact is now equivalent to buying a girl a drink and asking her name! Perhaps I am an old romantic but I'd much rather be asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven than be smacked on the arse every time I pass by a member of the opposite gender (or in some cases a sassy lesbian). 
There is obviously an element of excitement to it, humorous flirtation is much more invigorating than having someone grind against you without your consent. Banter is the name of the game as far as I'm concerned; I'd much rather get with someone because they were funny than simply because they were up for it! Besides a man's choice of cheesy chat up line says a lot about him. Some stay safe and generic 'are your legs tired 
because you've been running through my mind all day' or 'do you believe in love at first sight or do I have to walk by again?'. You have to have even more confidence or at least be pretty easy going to adopt a more out there opening statement such as 'You must be auxin, cause you are causing me to have rapid stem elongation.' (I'm a science nerd so I can't help but appreciate these sort of lines!).

Maybe its a silly thought but I think a man without a cheesy line or two to his name is not a man at all! Perhaps it's my romantic nature or an overexposure to puns but I honsestly believe that the humble chat up line must retain a place in the dating world, or I may just grow a beard and join a convent. Saying 'nice tits' is not a pick up line gents, lets get some cheese up in these clubs!

Creative People

I've recently realized that since moving out of the small pool of secondary school into the big lake of what I fondly consider 'the real world' (ha oh college..) I am increasingly surrounded by incredible people. College seems to be the time when people try to become a little more open about their natural gifts and creativity. I haven't fully come out as an aspiring writer or dancer just yet but I'm trying to put myself out there creatively through my style, my art and designing and my acting. This blog is my thus far secret outlet for minor creativities. When I'm not at college I've started dedicating more and more time to writing and designing. This is partly because I've been so inspired by how incredibly talented so many of my friends are.
A few weeks ago I attended a writers workshop with the drama soceity of my college. Two close friends of mine had some of their work read out and one was so real it was actually astounding. It was almost like having something from my own memory replayed to me. At the same workshop two friends of mine sang a song written by the other friend presenting. Again wow. I'm not in any way musically gifted so I have the utmost of respect for anyone who is. Singing is one of those talents you cant acquire- you either have it or you don't (I unfortunately don't) . Music also has an infinite capacity to move people so if you can play an instrument you can too obtain this capacity.
I like to hope that I will one day people will connect with my writing the way the written word has always connected with me. At the moment I'm making a brave endeavor into playwriting and hoping to submit it to be performed in the drama soceity next year. A lot of my friends do drama and it has been fascinating reading their assignements. Last friday a friend let me read a very surreal and intriguingly grotesque monologue from a spectaculaarly convoluted play he's writing. I was pretty darn impressed by it!
I guess this is the beauty of the infinite diversity of the human race; people who share the same gifts often use them in different ways but at the end of the day however you do it your talent shines through. I think creativity is the very highest form of expression because it covers so many things. Whether you express yourself through academic debate, wild dancing or colourful writing you should always try to let it out. A gift hidden is a gift wasted. While I'll admit I like to hide some of my creatve expression I tend to revel in the creative expression of others.
Creative people set the world alight, if we didn't have innovators and inspirers life would be wholly stagnant.

Friday 1 February 2013

Beautiful words

Whats your favourite word? This is a question my littlest brother often asks me. Personally one of my favourites is 'physalis' just cos its fun to say! My most used word is 'lovely' I think its just, well lovely! I often use it as a noun as a a term of endearment e.g. 'oh hello lovely you ok?'. I remember when I was younger a guy I really liked told me he liked me because I was 'different and lovely' and to this day it is probably one of my favourite compliments; the perfect words for me.
Today out of boredom I googled 'beautiful words'. I got a couple of links that were just different synonyms (that's another word I like- synonym) for beautiful. As a language student i think the English language is quite limited when it comes to describing beauty, traditional romance languages, like French or Spanish have dozens of much more acutely pleasing words for beauty; such as the Spanish 'hermosa' which I love. Ok I'm getting side-tracked!  So i found a list of beautiful words and it is probably the best thing I've ever discovered on the internet. I love literature and poetry so I think I get more pleasure from words than your average person but some of these were just phenomenal!
One of the new words I learned from this was 'insouciance' (another word for nonchalance) or 'somnabulance'. 'Tessellated' is another beaut even if its meaning isn't especially exciting.
I realize this is a rather erratic post in an already erratic blog but I just like to use this as a place to explore random little ideas. Beautiful words can transform things, we all know the power of words. One wrong word can change your opinion of someone, one kind word can make you realize how glad you are to have someone in your life and one complimentary word can make you realize you liked someone all along. I don't know how much power my words have, I used to be incredibly into poetry just because the power of them astounded me. Like the way song lyrics can seem to perfectly reflect your life I think that any words whether spoken or read have a potency like nothing else the mind conceives if only because its a an intellectual sense rather than a physical experience.
For me while a stunning view or a moving piece of music or even the thrill of touch will always have the capacity to be magical a beautiful word can create something completely different. A word doesnt have to be extraordinary to be powerful, magical or to make us feel phenomenal. (that's my last one-phenomenal; what a word!).