I'm slowly becoming obsessed with Polyvore... trying out new looks, no budget, is pretty addictive. I'm looking for a new style, so far I'm loving Doe Deere's new style, based on her idea of a Candyfuture (parts 2 and 3 also), but I have always loved the vintage country girl look too... so far I love these looks the most...
But I foresee loads more collections before I settle on one. Ahhh the possibilities!
I've also (strongarmed) helped my girlie Cheryl in her quest to boost business for her Etsy shop. I've created a blog, which I will help run, in the hopes it'll get her shop more custom, as well as finding out what you, her potential customers *wink wink* would like to see in her shop. I hope for the best for her, she needs it!
Go check it out!
I'm quite happy today.
It's been a good day.
Wednesday 29 July 2009
Tuesday 28 July 2009
Make Over
Time to lighten up. Literally and figuratively. Time for a change. Let's stick to what I love. Time to start pushing forward again.
I'm going back to therapy, and I won't not go this time. I don't care who else might be there. I need to go get help, I need to register with GHA. I will start looking after myself, I'm proud that I've been wheat-free for over a month, but I need to do more. Take a tip from my girlie and start going to the gym. Fix my damn hair, it's shallow, but I feel better when I think I look better. Do my nails. Start to put my make up on again on a daily basis. Wear clothes that have more than a practical purpose, clothes that cheer me up, make me feel good too. It might seem silly, but do you know what? I don't give a flying fuck. I know I feel better about myself when I spend alittle time every morning on just me.
What jump started this after yesterday's post? This lovely woman. A few days ago, she wrote about why women let themselves go. It got me thinking, as I read it this morning. Sinking into a deep depression is one thing, something I may not not have much control over, but I'll be damned if I let myself go with it. Looking at my sorry state in the mirror isn't going to cheer me up now, is it? No. My feeling on my face and my unwillingness to look after myself, even the most basic care like brushing my hair, is almost an admition of defeat. I don't want to be defeated by this. I want to get better. And if that means taking the shallow route, so be it. I'll paddle in the warm waters of self worth before I get the courage to dive in further. I refuse to not try. I want to look at myself and like, if not what I see, but at least the fact I made the effort. I want to see me, not my illness. And me likes make up. Red hair. Retro clothes. The gym. Hats. Heels. Smiling.
It's not just my body that'll be getting the make over. It'll be every aspect of my life, down to this blog. I need to change how I think, how I deal (or not, as the case may be!) with everything. I don't expect too much of myself, don't worry. I won't run before I can walk. My priorities, in their most basic form, are as follows:
1. Health
2. Home
3. Career
Within these, obviously, are alot more challenges I face. My relationships need to be sorted. I'm a lucky girl, G is still amazing and I never want to forget that, but I need to work on reconnecting with my family and my friends. I've burrowed too long. Time to rejoin reality. I need to relearn how to be an independent person. Financially, emotionally, absolutely. But I miss my friends. I miss my family. And this will be the jumpstart I need after stalling. I had a fantastic start.
Keep going.
Monday 27 July 2009
Easy
It's easier to hide. It's easier to think about how you could improve your life within the cocoon you make for yourself. Taking a chance is tricky. It proves you actually care about the result. Knowing it could go wrong, but pushing forward anyway. Staying within the safety of knowledge, the easy way to exist is stick to what you know, even if it makes you miserable.
You know you're better than this. You know you could fight the good fight and achieve everything that is within your power to be. But it's so hard, and the road is littered with traps and quicksand. You need to step lightly and decisively. You need to be sure. You need the belief that the fight will be over one day, and everything you've been though will make you a better person, a stronger person. One who can look back and be glad of the choices you have made, of walking the road leading to where you are now. Each step forward a small success, each step forward a step away from the past you don't want to hang on to.
But that damn road. Everlong, and with dead ends and crossroads. Why keep walking when you know this piece of pavement so well? You can't guarantee the journey will be worth it, so stop, take a breath, and stay put for three years. It doesn't matter, don't imagine too hard how things might have been. Stick to the misery you know. Don't look at the road.
It's so seductive to stay, but you start pushing yet again, face the road, face the truth of the journey, because you know you should, because you know you can crawl to every crossroad and be strong enough to pick your path.
Choices are a funny thing. You think that the battle is making the choice, but it isn't. It's making it happen. Too much red tape, too many people telling you no. Too many throwing your health in your face. Prove you can cope, they say. Prove you could make it work if we deign to grant you your choice. Tell us, in a big white box, why we should help, because right now we don't think you're worth it. But be warned, if you are too convincing, if you prove you think you're worth it, tell us, why do you need our help? There's a lot more people who don't have that self-worth. Try again when you're more needy, when you know your place.
So you don't rise above. That road you chose is covered in bricks now, with only your pitiful hands to push through. Hands that bleed. You can't climb, so you burrow. Deep and dark, in the shadow of the wall between you and your road. A dirt bed to exist in, to hide your shame as you see other people scale that wall so easily. You think about the ways you could win, but you don't climb out of that cocoon again. It's easier to hide.
You know you're better than this. You know you could fight the good fight and achieve everything that is within your power to be. But it's so hard, and the road is littered with traps and quicksand. You need to step lightly and decisively. You need to be sure. You need the belief that the fight will be over one day, and everything you've been though will make you a better person, a stronger person. One who can look back and be glad of the choices you have made, of walking the road leading to where you are now. Each step forward a small success, each step forward a step away from the past you don't want to hang on to.
But that damn road. Everlong, and with dead ends and crossroads. Why keep walking when you know this piece of pavement so well? You can't guarantee the journey will be worth it, so stop, take a breath, and stay put for three years. It doesn't matter, don't imagine too hard how things might have been. Stick to the misery you know. Don't look at the road.
It's so seductive to stay, but you start pushing yet again, face the road, face the truth of the journey, because you know you should, because you know you can crawl to every crossroad and be strong enough to pick your path.
Choices are a funny thing. You think that the battle is making the choice, but it isn't. It's making it happen. Too much red tape, too many people telling you no. Too many throwing your health in your face. Prove you can cope, they say. Prove you could make it work if we deign to grant you your choice. Tell us, in a big white box, why we should help, because right now we don't think you're worth it. But be warned, if you are too convincing, if you prove you think you're worth it, tell us, why do you need our help? There's a lot more people who don't have that self-worth. Try again when you're more needy, when you know your place.
So you don't rise above. That road you chose is covered in bricks now, with only your pitiful hands to push through. Hands that bleed. You can't climb, so you burrow. Deep and dark, in the shadow of the wall between you and your road. A dirt bed to exist in, to hide your shame as you see other people scale that wall so easily. You think about the ways you could win, but you don't climb out of that cocoon again. It's easier to hide.
Monday 6 July 2009
Sunday night
I went to the Art du Caf burlesque gallery opening, which opened as part of the Glasgow Cabaret Festival, and believe me, I wanted to buy all the artwork in sight! It was all gorgeous. But, given the small piece was still up for £895, I'd better put my purse back for now, my bank manager will thank me! Still, it was nice to see so many of my burley friends forever captured in paint, ink and love.
I wore one of Kelly's premade corsets, as requested, and I have never worn an off-the-peg corset that was so well made and comfortable! Since it was a new corset, I spent most of the night not *really* wearing it, just that bit too loose, but we tightened it up before the night was over. I've got a picture (courtesy of my girlie Cheryl) - not the best of pics, as we were *less* than sober!
The picture above was before the tightening, so imagine how tiny it made me! I was most happy. Methinks I'll be investing as soon as I can afford it!
I'll have more pictures from the GCF on Wednesday, when I'll be back at the Art du Caf for a very special night of performances!
I wore one of Kelly's premade corsets, as requested, and I have never worn an off-the-peg corset that was so well made and comfortable! Since it was a new corset, I spent most of the night not *really* wearing it, just that bit too loose, but we tightened it up before the night was over. I've got a picture (courtesy of my girlie Cheryl) - not the best of pics, as we were *less* than sober!
The picture above was before the tightening, so imagine how tiny it made me! I was most happy. Methinks I'll be investing as soon as I can afford it!
I'll have more pictures from the GCF on Wednesday, when I'll be back at the Art du Caf for a very special night of performances!
Thursday 2 July 2009
Me, Myself, I
Every so often I remember what a nasty person I am. Seriously. I have to put up with me, because, well, there's no other option!
Don't get me wrong, this isn't an "I hate myself" post. Quite the opposite, in fact. Regardless of the way life is right now, I'm still pretty happy with my lot. I have hope, too, that my life is about to improve immensely. But with all this change, I'm getting not a little introspective.
I'm 25 now. According to my 6 year old self, I should have my own house, and be one year away from being ready to start a family. I should be a lawyer, and go on cruise ship holidays (my aunt went on them and they seemed sooo cool!). I had a very definite idea of how adults should be, and that was it, for me. It didn't occur to me, until later, that maybe *I* didn't want those things. My life's goals changed, as they are wont to do, as I grew older. Now, I know, I don't want to have children, that need to procreate just isn't in me. Law was a dream I didn't see realised because of the choices I made, and I'm not overly upset for the loss. Cruise holidays don't seem as cool. The only thing that has stuck, is the longing for a place to call my own. But, despite knowing how to go about achieving that aim, I'm no closer to reaching it than I was when I first lived alone aged 16.
My life, and the way I've lived it, has affected me in many ways. I'm not going to do into the different memories, rather, I want to examine who I am as a person due to, and sometimes, in spite of, my history.
I know I'm spoilt. Oh lordy, yes, I am the ultimate spoilt bitch. Demanding, pouting, huffy little madam. Intensely selfish. But rather than just write that off as a negative, some positive comes of that. People are never unaware of how I feel. I am sometimes spoilt about odd things, like refusing to accept money I don't have to buy shoes I can't afford. I aim to be spoilt and self sufficient. I don't like the idea of being *kept*. I demand respect, even when I know I probably don't deserve it. I'm spoilt in the sense that if I want to learn about something, I'll damn well go and find out about it, from Chaos Theory to who sang a particular lyric of a song I don't remember in full.
I have a short attention span. Oh so annoying, even for me. I'm the stereo typical girl in that sense because... oh look a butterfly!
See what I did there?
If something stops interesting me, I'll lose all interest in following through. Case in point, I have at least 3 "drafts" on this blog that I know I'll probably never get round to finishing. I KNOW for a fact I'll stop writing this blog pretty soon, because right now I've got housework on the brain and I want to go clean the bathroom. Crazy - right? Chances are, I'll find something else to do before I actually finish the bathroom, at that!
I'm lazy. Lazy with a guilt complex. I realise there's always better things to do with my thing, but chances are, I won't, even knowing that doing said more important thing will make me ridiculously pleased with myself because I did it! Whole days have went by where I've barely moved, then I feel bad and promise to do better next time.
It's difficult for me to resist temptation. I'm serious! If I decide to stop eating wheat (12 days now! In a row! Ridiculously pleased? You bet!) I'm constantly finding ways to break that. Yesterday was tough. I sat in a cafe, and almost ordered a panini, just because, but at the last second, I thought better and ordered a baked potato instead (cue the ridic. pleased music). Why was I going to throw away 11 days of good behaviour? Because I'm spoilt, that why, and I'm sick of trying to be the good girl. It's silly really. I know within a few hours, I'll feel as ill as hell, I'll be itchy, a rash will appear and my stomach will be in agony. All for that 5 mins of saying fuck you to the world. Pointless, and yet, I know, I'll feel like that again. It won't go away, but I need to learn to ALWAYS chose to ignore the spoilt brat within, for once.
Ok, it's 15.55 on Thursday 2 July... I'm away to tidy. Lets say how long it takes me to come back to it.
To hell with it, I'm posting this, then I NEED to come back to finish it!
Public confessions, nothing like it to guilt you into finish something you started!
It's 01.41 on Saturday night. I was going to finish this earlier on, but I've had a less than perfect state of mind today. Nothing serious, really, but I didn't want to change the whole tone of this particular blog post. I WILL come back to it, I promise, but for now, I'm off to bed.
PS, I lost on phone during the week (I'm still mourning!) so I've lost everyone's numbers. I'll start asking around for the numbers when I get a new phone!
I'll finish this blog as a two parter, so no-one has to re-read this for the second or third time. I'm nice like that.
Honest!
Don't get me wrong, this isn't an "I hate myself" post. Quite the opposite, in fact. Regardless of the way life is right now, I'm still pretty happy with my lot. I have hope, too, that my life is about to improve immensely. But with all this change, I'm getting not a little introspective.
I'm 25 now. According to my 6 year old self, I should have my own house, and be one year away from being ready to start a family. I should be a lawyer, and go on cruise ship holidays (my aunt went on them and they seemed sooo cool!). I had a very definite idea of how adults should be, and that was it, for me. It didn't occur to me, until later, that maybe *I* didn't want those things. My life's goals changed, as they are wont to do, as I grew older. Now, I know, I don't want to have children, that need to procreate just isn't in me. Law was a dream I didn't see realised because of the choices I made, and I'm not overly upset for the loss. Cruise holidays don't seem as cool. The only thing that has stuck, is the longing for a place to call my own. But, despite knowing how to go about achieving that aim, I'm no closer to reaching it than I was when I first lived alone aged 16.
My life, and the way I've lived it, has affected me in many ways. I'm not going to do into the different memories, rather, I want to examine who I am as a person due to, and sometimes, in spite of, my history.
I know I'm spoilt. Oh lordy, yes, I am the ultimate spoilt bitch. Demanding, pouting, huffy little madam. Intensely selfish. But rather than just write that off as a negative, some positive comes of that. People are never unaware of how I feel. I am sometimes spoilt about odd things, like refusing to accept money I don't have to buy shoes I can't afford. I aim to be spoilt and self sufficient. I don't like the idea of being *kept*. I demand respect, even when I know I probably don't deserve it. I'm spoilt in the sense that if I want to learn about something, I'll damn well go and find out about it, from Chaos Theory to who sang a particular lyric of a song I don't remember in full.
I have a short attention span. Oh so annoying, even for me. I'm the stereo typical girl in that sense because... oh look a butterfly!
See what I did there?
If something stops interesting me, I'll lose all interest in following through. Case in point, I have at least 3 "drafts" on this blog that I know I'll probably never get round to finishing. I KNOW for a fact I'll stop writing this blog pretty soon, because right now I've got housework on the brain and I want to go clean the bathroom. Crazy - right? Chances are, I'll find something else to do before I actually finish the bathroom, at that!
I'm lazy. Lazy with a guilt complex. I realise there's always better things to do with my thing, but chances are, I won't, even knowing that doing said more important thing will make me ridiculously pleased with myself because I did it! Whole days have went by where I've barely moved, then I feel bad and promise to do better next time.
It's difficult for me to resist temptation. I'm serious! If I decide to stop eating wheat (12 days now! In a row! Ridiculously pleased? You bet!) I'm constantly finding ways to break that. Yesterday was tough. I sat in a cafe, and almost ordered a panini, just because, but at the last second, I thought better and ordered a baked potato instead (cue the ridic. pleased music). Why was I going to throw away 11 days of good behaviour? Because I'm spoilt, that why, and I'm sick of trying to be the good girl. It's silly really. I know within a few hours, I'll feel as ill as hell, I'll be itchy, a rash will appear and my stomach will be in agony. All for that 5 mins of saying fuck you to the world. Pointless, and yet, I know, I'll feel like that again. It won't go away, but I need to learn to ALWAYS chose to ignore the spoilt brat within, for once.
Ok, it's 15.55 on Thursday 2 July... I'm away to tidy. Lets say how long it takes me to come back to it.
To hell with it, I'm posting this, then I NEED to come back to finish it!
Public confessions, nothing like it to guilt you into finish something you started!
It's 01.41 on Saturday night. I was going to finish this earlier on, but I've had a less than perfect state of mind today. Nothing serious, really, but I didn't want to change the whole tone of this particular blog post. I WILL come back to it, I promise, but for now, I'm off to bed.
PS, I lost on phone during the week (I'm still mourning!) so I've lost everyone's numbers. I'll start asking around for the numbers when I get a new phone!
I'll finish this blog as a two parter, so no-one has to re-read this for the second or third time. I'm nice like that.
Honest!
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