Tag Archives: happy

Happy Sunday…

…to those who never have to deal with snoring, and get the whole bed to themselves.
…to those who only have their own glorious mess to contend with.
…to those who get to spend their entire disposable income on themselves.
…to those who never have to carry the cold stone of sickening worry in their belly.
…to those who know that the last piece of dessert will always be in the fridge where they left it.
…to those who get to go wherever they want without having to consult with anyone else.
…to those who can leave their washing on the bedroom floor.
…to those who never have to argue about who’s going to take the last beer.
…to those who are never waiting around for someone else to get ready.
…to those who never come home to any unnecessary conflict or petty gripes.
…to those who don’t have to spend a fortune on Christmas presents for someone else’s family.
…to those who never have to sacrifice space in their home to another person’s interests.
…to those who don’t have to apologise for coming home drunk.
…to those who don’t have to negotiate their way through the minefield of someone else’s headfucks.
…to those who can spend the whole weekend at home in their pants without criticism.
…to those who are enjoying a respite from drama.
…to those who never have to clean someone else’s piss off of the toilet.

For everyone who joins me in being actively grateful for being alone, I wish you a marvellous Sunday.

Valentine’s Day has always rankled a little, even when I have been in relationships. I resent the idea that at some point, a group of corporations has dictated a day when we are guilt-tripped into spending money to demonstrate the extent to which we care about someone – and as a society we’ve just gone along with it.

So as a nice, solid, two-fingered salute to a capitalist drive to exploit love, let us celebrate with gleeful joy the vibrancy of this exquisitely sweary ode to pure hatred by Frank Carter & the Rattlesnakes;

You’re welcome.

Hello, I am a grown woman, of sound mind, and I don’t want children.

I’ve generally taken a “Never Say Never” approach to children, because I am aware that there are hormones and psychology involved in this shit, and therefore there was always a possibility that I would reach a point in my life where I would change my mind.

Well, I’ve just turned 37, and I have not changed my mind. I have never wanted children in the past, and I still don’t now. I have an absence of desire for babies. I understand that to ensure survival of the species, animals have a drive to reproduce. Well, humans are not just animals anymore, and I do not have that drive. Most people seem to feel that there is a child-shaped hole in their lives at some stage, and look forward to having a mini version of themselves running around; I genuinely cannot think of anything I want less for my life.

Since we in general are no longer in the position of running our own little farmsteads and having to raise a swathe of children as a) unpaid labour and b) someone obliged to look after us when we’re old, we no longer need to have families. These days, there are hundreds of reasons not to have children, and only one reason why you should – Because You Want To.

And you know, that’s cool, if you do want to. It’s… like… science. I just really don’t. There are a plethora of reasons for that – many of which are aptly demonstrated by this instagram account – but the biggest ones are probably;

  1. I don’t like children. They are loud, demanding, unreasonable, emotional, unpredictable idiots. Incidentally, I dislike those same characteristics in adults too.
  2. I REALLY don’t like babies. Not only are they completely incompetent in a way that the young of most other species aren’t, but they do that funny thing with their mouths that turns my stomach. They move in weird ways, and when they cry, it makes me ANGRY. I know there is a biological imperative that makes us respond to children’s cries, but it physically makes me feel aggressive. Red mist stuff. I genuinely do not trust myself around crying infants.
  3. I find the idea of pregnancy and breastfeeding physically revolting. I feel about gestation, childbirth and nursing the same way other people feel about maggots and gone-off milk. I am actively repulsed. Your body is taken over by a foreign entity that grows and grows until it smashes its way out, in many cases leaving you physically scarred for life, and then sucks its nourishment out of that same body. I mean, come on; that’s just grim.
  4. I like my life how it is. It is quiet, and peaceful. I spend most of my free time alone, and I earn enough money to do what I want, when I want. I choose my activity according to what will make me happy. I plan on keeping things that way.

Now all of that said, I do love reading blogs and watching vlogs about families who are doing their best to do things right by their kids. I like to see children that are happy, but I approach it more like a research project, a curiosity, and certainly something that happens at a distance.

Interestingly, kids seem to like being around me (…probably because I act like a child a lot of the time…) and I have in fact experienced isolated moments of enjoying the company of children. Watching my friend’s 3 year old son rocking out quietly to Bat Out Of Hell in the kitchen was hilarious and cute. However, I have also heard the stories about the same child melting down over ridiculous things, and for me there is not enough ‘cute’ to outweigh the ‘demon-spawn’.

Also, in order to be supportive and encouraging of a child’s growing mind and sense of identity, there’s loads of Not Being Honest that comes into play. And I’m not very good at that. I may be largely ignorant when it comes to dealing with kids, but even I know that “I heard you the first time – I just don’t care” is an inappropriate response. I am filled with inappropriate responses and no real desire not to use them.

When I was a child myself, I always just assumed that I would end out being a single parent – like the family environment I was raised in. It was only when I passed the age that my mother was when she had me – 20 1/2 years old – that it was like my ears popped, and I suddenly understood that it wasn’t fate, it was actually my choice (…I like to think that I am a smart person, but there is honestly no accounting for the conclusions you come to when you are younger.)

I started taking contraception seriously at college because hello, COLLEGE. The Pill was never a realistic option for me because I have the worst short-term memory, so I ended out having 3-monthly Depo Provera injections. It felt GOOD, knowing that there was something permanently in my body that would stop babies happening.

When I was 23, I got married. Seriously bad decision making, and worthy of a dedicated blog for another time. My then-husband started talking about having children and I freaked the absolute fuck out. I was horrified that there was an expectation that I would have his babies. We had never talked about children; me, because it never occurs to me as A Thing, and him I guess because most people just assume everyone wants kids. I went to the doctor for my Depo shot just after that, and they told me that they had run out. Instead, they offered me an implant, which lasted either 1 or 3 years. I went for the 3 years, and told my husband I had gone with the 1 year one. Yay for honesty in relationships…

Anyway, I have never looked back. I am on my 4th 3-year implant and I would never dream of not having it. I honestly think that I would be scared if I had to have it removed, it has become such a safety blanket.

This is me. This is who I am. There is nothing wrong with me, and there is nothing wrong with any other man or woman who – for whatever reason – makes what is actually the only logical choice about having children, when you think about it.

For my money, it’s the people who do want kids that are the weirdos.

chestburster2

2014: My Best Year So Far.

I think that it’s fair to say that both globally and nationally, 2014 has been an absolute boil on the arse of existence. Granted, there have been worse years when you consider history as a whole, but 2014 has been astonishing in its array of awfulness.

It almost makes me feel bad for having had such an awesome year.

…almost.

The holiday year at work runs from the 1st of April, and this year I bought myself an extra 5 days of leave…which I had subsequently beasted by the end of November. I have gone all guns blazing into life and done many wonderful things.

Rise Against - probably the best gig of the year.

Rise Against – probably the best gig of the year.

I have been to 19 gigs this years (that I can remember), including 3 all day music events; Barclaycard BST, Strawberry Fields and Ouch! My Generator. It would have been more but I bowed out of three due to, in no particular order;

  • Being unable to face taking the train into London
  • Being utterly exhausted
  • Realising that I no longer have easy access to the amphetamines that would have been required to stay the distance

I have seen at least 50 live bands, including Killswitch Engage, Soulfly, Korn, Black Sabbath, Motörhead, Arnocorps, Scumface, Catharsis, Soil, American Head Charge, Alestorm, Rise Against, Seether, Machine Head, and bands I never ever thought I would get see like Faith No More, Soundgarden and Inspiral Carpets. On top of this, I managed to see my beloved TrollfesT three times, and also joined their Street Team which has perhaps been one of my proudest achievements.

I spent the week of my 36th birthday trying to pretend I wasn’t whining and complaining at Brother’s Bootcamp.

They made me a cake and everythin'!

They made me a cake an’ everythin’!

I started writing this blog, and sharing the whirlwind of Ridiculous that is my life these days.

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I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed sharing in my daft exploits.

I drank many times my own body weight in beer, and even had a go at brewing my own.

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…can’t say it tasted much better than it smelled.

I learned how to drive a tank.

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Fuck. Yes.

I learned how to not die as quickly in the event of being stranded outdoors in an emergency situation.

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Forests are slug-harbouring dens of evil.

I went Segway riding again, and discovered all sorts of wonderful new body armor that I need to get, because reasons.

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Need.

I bought my first weapon, in preparation for any impending apocalypses, zombie or otherwise.

Gordon

Say hello to Gordon.

I have travelled a lot – significantly to Bergen, Copenhagen, Oslo and Minneapolis – my first venture across the pond.

Can’t even joke, I yearn to go back to Bergen.

I have made my skin that little bit more awesome.

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You’ll have to use your imagination over what the ones under my arse look like.

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I have finally decided on a plan for what I actually want to do with my life.

75cl. Yes, yes I think so.

For once I have a strategy that involves more than beer.

I have laughed. A lot. On more than one occasion, I laughed so much that beer came out of my nose.

Not actually joking.

Not actually joking.

I met many new people, and reconnected with friends who through my own stupid choices I had lost touch with.

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I learned a harsh lesson about disconnecting from your people.

I created my first cosplay/halloween costume from scratch.

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I can’t lie, I even impressed myself.

At Christmas, I did a Good Thing, and knitted a load of scarves for a local homeless charity, proving that I am not entirely self-absorbed.

Felt like a decent human being.

Felt like a decent human being.

Regardless of where I have been and what I have done, above all else in 2014 I have been joyfully, gleefully, unapologetically ME and I have loved it.

Here’s to seeing what 2015 has in store for me! Cheers everyone!DSCF2715[1]