My first steps into womanhood...

It's taken 16 years and at last it's happened. There have been twists and turns and now it's happened. All this waiting to reach the peak that defines my existence and now it's happened.

On this momentous,glorious and invigorating day I can smile like I've never smiled before,laugh like I've never laughed before and hold my head higher than I thought it ever possible.

 For today, I  have become a true woman.

Now, to those perplexed readers... I'm not talking about puberty changes, marriage or any of this predictable nonsense. True woman out there  know exactly what I'm on about.

The purest and most definitive moment that epitomizes becoming a woman, is the day we look down and realize we possess a love greater than can be expressed in words.

 As those two jewels gaze up at us with such effortless beauty and graceful innocence, it hits us that no-one in the world could love them more. We realize ,life wouldn't be worth living without them and wonder how we ever coped without them there before.

A love like nothing ever felt, imagined or dreamt before-it's a love that defines us as women.  So yes, this defining moment ladies and gents, is none other than the moment a woman

falls in love with a pair of shoes.

Before, a pair of shoes could be 'nice', 'handy' or 'do the trick', but now that  I've entered  into the female field of pristine adoration for feetly comforts; my view will never be the same again. I've been awoken to just how divine shoes are.

Shoes aren't just there out of convenience or out of necessity for when our feet need protection ...

oh no . 

 Shoes don't just affect your feet area- they define both who you are and your purpose in life.

 A pair of shoes practically screams out your character to the world.

 Do you like comfort? extravagance? Fine dining? Sport? Adventure? Trying new things? Homely coziness? Formality?  Well, there's no real need to ask; your shoes will tell me.

So this pair of shoes that have so kindly walked me into womanhood are out of this world. Soft, faux fur lining, lace up boots that just... well, they just smile. I try to wear outfits just so they can feature. I find myself watching them as I walk (which has resulted in quite a few stumbles) marvelling at how gorgeous they look as the sunlight trickles off them. I feel like everyone is watching them too...as if they are emanating this infectious, beautiful blaze.

These astounding angels sweep me along in their warm embrace and cuddle my senses, from toes to head. I am well and truly walking on air.

We smile together, explore together and soak up the surroundings together.
We. are. one. 
And do you know what? When I'm away, I  miss them. When I'm not wearing them, I picture them sitting at home, empty, sad and missing my feet to fill their tums.

 I position them just near my bed so that when I wake up... they're the first things i'll see.

The alarm screeches, my head spins and in flood the thoughts of all the daily toil and stress ahead. My head begins to throbs, eyes sore and body heavy as lead.... but then I see them.

My beautiful babies, beaming heartily at me, reminding me that life is good. I haven't even had my coffee and i'm already wide awake and grinning like a Chesire.

 Aaahhh boots boots- what would I do without you?

So you may be thinking it's awfully sad to pin so much joy to a pair of shoes?  Rather pathetic to feel so refreshed by some material for my feet? Well, do you know what?  You're missing out.

I think I speak for all true women when I say...

a sweet tooth for shoes will cure ALL your blues.

THE CHOC HAUL...

The time has come.

I can smell it  in the air,taste it on my palate, hear it in the depths of my soul.
It's time for the...
 END OF LENT CHOC HAUL.


Right, I'll briefly set the scene...

Every year, without fail, my family and I give up chocolate for lent.

 Perhaps that sounds normal/ uninspiring/ simple to you? If so, you need to shut down this page and leave.

Anyone pathetic enough to doubt the overwhelming grasp chocolate has on life , anyone who doesn't appreciate the chocolaty embrace that cuddles and soothes us in today's hectic world, anyone who feels the absence of the compassionate  confectionery wouldn't be detrimental to humanity- needs to go far,far away   and get themselves sorted.

Chocolate is magical.
Chocolate is healing.
Chocolate is a reason to live.

Maybe you've had an awful break up , you're stressed, hurting and shaken-
 Who dotingly heals and soothes the pain?

Perhaps you're at a dull meeting, it's unproductive,awkward and stuffy-
-Who coats biscuits, travels into your body and sparks ideas into life, stirs creativity and induces smiles ?
What about an important race that you don't think you can withstand/stomach-

 -Who boosts your moral,charges you with energy and  spurs you on to surge to that victory?

Yeah that's right- we're all forgetting just how helpful our CHOC chum is. I think we all need to have a little think about  our neglectful behaviour. We need to start showing our appreciation.
So next time you tear open a soft and crumbling choc bar, or pop open a tub of creamy, rich choc ice cream or settle down to a scrumptious hot chocolaty dessert- I urge you say thank you. No don't you snort or laugh at the absurdity- I'm being deadly serious.
I urge you to lean down and whisper tenderly  to your sweet treat ''Thank-you''. And say it with meaning.

The road has been long...

So, to return after my chocolate tangent there- Lent has been tough this year. Yes it's a season of sacrifice, reconciliation and key for spiritual nourishment- but there's no denying life without choc is excruciating. Worst of all, is that you realize just.how.much of it there is cuddling our daily life. It's inescapable...

. You realize just how many people have chocolate for lunch with the constant offering from mates in the canteen/classrooms.

.. Sensuous and mouthwatering telly adverts for ice creams/chocolate bars are nestled between all the shows.

.. Beautiful celebrities take attractive bites of choc treats as they glow and pose before you.

. .Supermarkets boast reductions on sweet treats...sharing excessive close ups on all the shiny,luxurious packaging.

.. Billboards line up along my bus route to and from school, teasing me with the newest dazzling  and delicious treats on the market.

.Even the litter on the road  decides to kick and harass me. Chocolate wrappers smother the pavements to remind me what I'm missing at every step, empty packets dancing deviously in the breeze across my eye line- tempting me, snickering at me.

.Most of the desserts on  restaurant menus have me jaw agape with luxurious ,lavish descriptions of all things chocolaty... then slap me in the face by offering a 'fruit salad platter' right at the end. Mmm, nothing says splendour and indulgence like some cold fruit chunks.

But all is rewarded...

However, despite this incessant abuse and painfully isolated period of time- it all becomes worthwhile.

Because nothing, absolutely nothing, comes close to the REUNION.
Every Easter Saturday  we head out to the supermarket and spend ridiculous amounts on pure, unadulterated chocolate.
The cashiers face is priceless. 

Then we lay all our goodies on the table and  as the clock strikes midnight-

 the feast begins.

 Again we curl up in that chocolaty caress we have missed so very much.

Now as that clock hits 12, something within my soul erupts. My fingers tingle as I unravel the smooth jewel from the first wrapper tenderly. My heart pounds vigorously.My taste buds throb impatiently. Then as I slip it between my straining lips and onto my waiting tongue-IT BEGINS.

 Explosive yet gentle, loud yet serene - my body sparks to life, embracing the friend it has so dearly missed. The flavours familiarize and the swirling blend of creamy joy butters my spirits and passionately kisses my soul.

This moment alone , is a reason for living.

So, my reason for this post?

Well today  will see us embark on the 2011 CHOC HAUL. I don't know how much we'll get, or where we'll get it from but I do know one thing for sure...

It's going to be delicious.

 (Left: CHOC HAUL 2009)

(Below: CHOC HAUL 2010) 

  

Housephone Harressment

I'm a victim of bullying.

Wow, I've admitted it; about time too.

 It's been long overdue.

I'm a trembling, taunted mess who faces aggression on  a daily basis.

Oh but the perpetrator doesn't leave physical evidence... they're much more sly and calculating than that. Prying on me when weak,  a devious  shadow that's always watching me.

Enough is enough... it's time to name and shame...reveal my torturer...

Please, somebody spare me from...

MY HOUSE PHONE.

No no no, don't you laugh or turn away thinking this is some petty rant.

I NEED HELP.

 I can't walk past my house phone without physically wincing.

Being at home is about relaxing. It's about unwinding ...leaving work and distractions outside.

But then this peace is obliterated. 

There I am, having some 'me time' ,settling in to some din dins in front of the telly and then BAM.

 It's all ruined.

 I'm dragged out of my serenity by the high pitched screeeeech of the bully...

TRRRING-TRRRING!  

TRRRING-TRRRING!   

TRRRING-TRRRING!

The screeching goes on and on , screaming into my ears until nothing can be thought about except picking up the phone. So I succumb- and get up to obey  the bully.

Oh, but as I pick it up off the hook...it decides NOW is the time to be silent. It decides it's way more fun to watch me squirm and sigh when I just miss the last ring. Brilliant.

But the bully's just getting started.

It waits silently until I'm all the way back to my seat, comfortable and content.

It waits; like a ravenous lion fixated on it's prey.

It waits until that perfect moment,where I've reached complete and utter relaxation. Then, only then, it POUNCES with it's infuriating shriek...

TRRRRRRRING- TRRRRRRING!!! 

TRRRRRRRING -TRRRRRRING!!!

Again I'm forced out of my comfort zone -  but this time I'm desperate .

 I run to the phone,in an attempt to reach it in time. But no, oh no, that would be too easy.

Again it cuts off as I get there.  It's silently sniggering at me ... taunting me with it's malicious games.

Then there's the fun it has when you're mid conversation. It listens in,cunningly waiting until the most crucial moment in the chatter...and then, well then it just cuts off. Dead. Just like that.

This, is annoying enough, but to push us that little bit further, dig just that little bit deeper, the daemonic device doesn't let us know it's cut off.

Too many times have I waffled on with a story,describing the ins and outs,the intricate details, pouring out an emotional essay -to find that there is no one listening at the other end.

I'm sick to death of this abuse.

I hate feeling threatened in my own home.

I want protection from this electronic evil which terrorizes me with it's tricks.

Please, somebody, help me escape this

house-phone harassment.

The Icy Dash

Ever seen an Olympic runner, performing  in

their element?

The skill, the timing, the intense determination swirling in those hungry eyes?

Couldn't help but gaze, jaw agape, at the sheer talent that unravels effortlessly before you?

Well, that's nothing. 

Move aside Olympic medalists, eat your heart out Usain Bolt- there are far greater challenges to conquer.

 Nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to excruciating feat that is...

                                          The Icy Dash.

I'll set the scene:

You've woken up on a chilly weekday morning to an appetizing full day's work that awaits you. The mundane stench of  just the thought of the day, has you feeling queasy already.   

 You're shattered, grumpy and most probably not quite with it.

 So, half-dead, you stagger into the shower.

Yes, you scald yourself a couple of times with the water.

Yes, the shampoo seeps under your eyelids and takes a few vicious bites

 But overall, it's exactly what you needed. It's what loosens the embrace of sleep  and  what stirs you into the day.

Right ,shower off and time to reach for the towel...

SHOCK.   HORROR.

IT'S NOT THERE.

In your sleepy haze you'd forgotten to place it near the door. You stand there bewildered - shivering, soggy and naked in your  freezing rectangular block.

But you've GOT to get that towel.

It is here mankind must face the ultimate test
It is here  mankind summons a courage that resides deep within

It is here Mankind must make

The Icy Dash.

The aim is simple:
The quicker you run, the sooner you'll be warm.

 You have just one option- to make The Icy Dash to the towel.

It is here the cold lunges barbarically at our bodies, the brisk air pinches at our skin, the bitter air howls in our ears.

Like a lone deer on savanna filled with ravenous lions-  we're nothing more than prey.

We dart, with wet hair,quivering bodies and a fatigued mind through the shadows of a sleeping house in utter silence.

 Some falter, stub toes and howl in agony.

Some have perfected it to something Graceful, skillful and laudable.

 No matter what happens, we can all admit The Icy Dash  truly is the

ultimate challenge.

So forget watching the Marathon, the Olympic games or one of those petty triathlons...

It's time to start appreciating true talent

It's time to start watching the human race in it's finest moments of unadulterated , pristine skill.

LET  The Icy Dash  

 RACES COMMENCE!

The Turd that is Tuesday...

Have you ever had the Monday morning feeling? Felt the bitter sting as the first day of the week crawls in?  Often wanted to do anything to escape the monotony?

STOP. YOU'RE GETTING IT WRONG. 

You see, it's not Monday we need to worry about.

Forget the cliche, the accepted connotation of the day... there are far more evil forces at work. Behind the Monday facade lurks something far more atrocious, more terrifying.

Tuesday.

Don't laugh, don't look away- I KNOW you agree.

We all shy away from the truth that stares us  straight in the eye. Tuesday is the real wretch of the week. Tuesday is what Monday threw up.

The slippery, daemonic day that deceives us as 'normal' .

 NO- I've had enough.

It's time to disregard the Status-Quo that we stick to sheepishly.

Rip off those foggy 'stick with the given' goggles.
It's time to reveal the turd that is Tuesday for what it really is...

I mean let's be honest- what right does it even have to be in our weekly structure?! 

Monday -       The beginning, we all collectively agree it's unpleasant...fine.

Wednesday- The middle of the week, half way there..

Thursday-The 'nearing the summit' day. 'Hack on with some work' day, 'sort out the weekend plans' day.

Friday-      The party begins, bring out the fish and chips- it's time to have fun.

Saturday-  The free day. Your day- make it what you will.

Sunday-    The 'relax, unwind and recooperate' day.

It's a solid, understandable week.

So why on earth does Tuesday insist on creeping in there? 

Tuesday is unnecessary.

Tuesday is nothing.

Tuesday needs to be banned.

Who's with me!?

Drop back, Fall down, Get hurt.

It's too easy to get tangled in today's world.

Get stuck in the rat race, trapped in the crowds, lost in the competitive chaos.

Everywhere you look people are competing for the top, desperately seeking to be better,go further and earn more-each trying to satiate that unquenchable thirst for success that drives them.

It's time to drop back, fall down and get hurt.

This isn't one of those lardy dardy  rants on how we need to forget about money, or a rife moan about how ''money can't buy happiness'' and our desperate need for focus on the simpler things-so fear not. I'll spare you the lecture, we all probably know it by heart anyway.

Instead, I want to share the beautiful notion of failure.

Too often is it feared. The very thought of it raises connotations on negativity, defeat, unworthiness. Throughout time it's been associated with shame, something we need to steer clear of , poisoned and tainted by our obstinate ideas.

But we've got it WRONG.

In all honesty- there is nothing more beautiful.

With failure , we learn.

With failure, we adapt.

With failure, we succeed.

Let's take an exam. By failing continuously at attempts before hand, we learn to strive harder and do better. Failure makes us panic, it makes us remember and before we know it -we've learnt to succeed.

Failure is the road to success.

They work hand in hand to define us.

Success gets the glory, Failure is the fallen angel.

Imagine you're in a race. It's the last stretch, the competition is tight..and your arms are pumping furiously, legs burning yet determined, eyes fixed on the finish line. To your sides, you see runners creeping unnervingly close, arms cutting the air too...better, faster than you...eyes fixated on that line too.

So should you push harder, try to get there first?

Should you pump more aggressively, try to shred the opposition?

No.

  Drop back, fall down and get hurt.

Drop back and feel the others surge past you.

Fall down and release the pain in your limbs, the frustration crippling your body.

Get hurt with the pain of losing, the fiery lunge on your insides as you plummet into the murk of agonized shame and harrowing embarrassment.
(Note: Do not follow rule if running in the Olympic final...)

 Close your eyes and soak it up.
This is how it should be, this is where you grow, this is what defines you.

Plunging to these grueling lows, helps us reach those dizzy highs.


So yes, this may have been a mundane post...an uninspiring one ,  a  'scroll straight through' one- but it needed to be written.

Cliche? Yes.
Over discussed? Yes.
Monotonous? Yes.

So, to sit back and summarise- I think it's safe to say ...                          this post has been a failure.

Mission accomplished.


I'll leave you with this, a poignant present to sum up my ramble:

 "Failures are but the pillars of success."
- Welsh Proverb

The 'Two Biscuit' Rule

Don't you read the title and act like you don't know what I'm talking about.

 It's perfectly simple, it's perfectly relevant and we know we should  obey it.

 The rule is everywhere we look, everywhere we breathe and stop for that cuppa. It's unavoidable, sacred and inbuilt into Human nature.

Should I continue to tease you? Or just come out and say it? I think I'll torment you with an ellipse first and then we'll get started ...

Prepare to be hurled  into a scenario:

You're exhausted, you've finished work for the day and it's time to unwind with a hot soothing cup of tea. A careful brew that caresses your throat, cradles your taste buds and cuddles your insides until you're all warm, dissolved and smiling. The steam dances delicately in the air before gently swaying upwards in to your nostrils. The wafting warms your nose skin and the fine lining hairs quiver contentedly. 

aaaaaahhhh.

But hang on- there's something missing.

Like paper without  pen, salt without pepper, Angelina without Brad- the tea ALONE is incomplete. It needs it's other half. It needs it's biscuits.

But with the biscuits- along comes the dilemma.

You may have your irresistibly scrumptious, crumbly gems of happiness dunking daintily into your cup of hot heaven- but when do you STOP yourself? 

We all know we mustn't munch excessively- so where do we draw the line? 

After ONE biscuit- there will ALWAYS be the crave for another. One biscuit will never quite satisfy your needs, never quite delight all the taste buds, never quite hit the spot.

So then we opt for another, to colour in our edible edges and solve the problem.

TWO biscuits is the dignified amount, the respected amount, the well mannered and well contained amount of biscuits to have. And this, my friend, is the 'two biscuit rule'.

But for me, it's not as easy a rule to follow as it sounds.

Once you've eaten those two biscuits-not only are you craving another- you're feeling more guilt at the thought of a 3rd. Because THREE biscuits is excess. The very thought of three, wreaks with the pungent stench of greed. Even the word 'three' itself has an excess of 'e's. Three is naughty waters.

But i like naughty waters.

I want to push the button that i shouldn't, peak around the door that i shouldn't and dip my feet in those cheeky streams. Yes i know it will come with it's guilt,  I know I'll regret having wet feet-but BOY is the dipping worth it.

So you might be shocked at the length of this ramble on the mere concept of 'biscuits and tea' , but I write with a profound message, a stirring truth, a moving moral...

I say we all need to screw the 'two biscuit rule'.

If you want that third biscuit- you EAT that third biscuit. (you eat that NINTH biscuit!)
If you want to wade in those waters- you WADE to your hearts content.
Because societal barriers and peer pressure aside -it is YOUR choice and YOUR choice alone which decides the realms of your BISCUIT BLISS...