Despair/Yeah Yeah Yeahs

 

"Oh despair, You're there through my wasted days, there through my wasted nights, there through my wasted years, all of my lonely tears"

 

"We're all on the edge, there's nothing to fear"

 

"My song is your song"

 

 

 

 

 

NEVER MIND SPREAD THE JOY

 

I SAY

 

SHARE THE MISERY

 

 

Twitter

I’m slightly off Twitter at the moment; nothing particularly awful has happened, but I seem to be getting myself into some awkward situations with people and I need to re-evaluate what it is I’m doing wrong.

 I'm clearly sending out signals that are being misread. Signals that seem to be giving members of the opposite sex reason to think I’m up for it or that somewhere down the line, they’re going to meet up with me and I’m going to tell them everything there is to know about me.

 I am not going to do that.

Perhaps I’m too open, too friendly. However, I’m never overly sexual as some are on Twitter, I’m shy about such things and I never (as far as I’m aware) become overly intimate. I never give too much away about myself, but eventually at some point I’m under a certain degree of scrutiny, not all, but by some. Who am I? Where do I live? What do I REALLY look like? Hints as to how old I am, am I married, alone?

 Are men put under such scrutiny?

 I don’t feel safe, I feel insecure. I worry that someone’s going to turn up on my doorstep. I would never dream of dating anyone I speak to on Twitter, if married couples can never know each other after 30 years of marriage, how am I expected to really know who I’m getting intimate with on Twitter?

 

I hear of women dating people they’ve never met or seen on Twitter or Facebook and I’m filled with horror, how do they know what they’re dealing with, that the person on the other end of the screen isn’t some unbalanced stalker, or someone who’s going to come round and turn up unannounced and murder them in their beds….

 Alright that last one was a little melodramatic. But you see what I  mean…

 Am I the only one who feels this way?

 Is Twitter really as unsafe as I feel it is for me at the moment or am I over reacting? What safeguards can I set up for myself without seeming unfriendly or unsociable?

 If there are any women out there who’ve had similar experiences to me then please let me know. I’d be interested to know if I’m the only woman that feels like this.

I love the LBD; otherwise known as the little black dress. The rules are simple; not too much adornment, simple lines, it can be long or short, but short is better, worn to the knee. No fashionable details that make it too contemporary or too fashionable. It must be the kind of dress you can wear year after year, never losing its style or ability to flatter the figure regardless of age.

 Chanel produced the little black dress back in 1926; it was referred to as the “Ford” in America in reference to the Ford’s uniform black car. It carried on from there as the epitome of style changing over each decade, becoming more glamorous as time wore on. No longer seen as funeral wear the black dress became popular through the 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s and for me it’s still the most beautiful garment to wear. I don’t care whether people are now wearing navy blue, orange or any other colour that seems to be the current “new black.” For me, it’s black all the way.

 And of course the one woman who wore black better than any other; Audrey Hepburn herself. No other fashion icon could wear the black dress the way she did.

 I am no Audrey Hepburn and I don’t own a Coco Chanel black dress, perhaps I never will, but I can rock the look and dream the dream.

It’s also an easy look to achieve, upswept hair or worn casually to the shoulders with loose curls, minimal make up other than a classic sweep of red across the lips. A black caress of black liner across the lid and a flick of jet mascara. The dress is worn to hang simply over the collar bone and hips, perhaps three quarter length sleeves or sleeveless with toned arms.  A hint of something expensive sprayed at the pulse points, a simple clutch and black court shoes, or kitten heels with a strap at the back. No fake tan, simple pale skin is best, blanched white, a stark contrast against the jet black of the figure hugging dress.

 No impulsive behaviour, no overly sexual gestures, an air of mystery matched by a mildly flirtatious smile.

 Of course the look must be matched by impeccable behaviour, no pint glasses or inelegant poses, a glass of wine or champagne will suffice.  To be the girl in the LBD one must be a mystery to be unravelled, an enigma.

I made it Ma, top of the world!.....at least for today

So today I saw a turning point, a little extra work and I started to see the wood from the trees and

perhaps a little hope on the horizon. That's freelancing for you, feast or famine, rich or poor, no one

day is the same as the last. One day you're winning, the next you're losing, one day you're on top, the

next you're at the bottom of the heap, a bleeding wreck with nowhere to go. Today I reached the

summit and tomorrow the top of the world maybe, as long as it doesn't blow right up in my face.

                       "He finally got to the top of the world and it blew right up in his face."

If I do go up in a cloud of smoke and white heat, at least it'll have been a blast..yes I know that was bad, but I would like a dramatic exit, like James Cagney, all explosions, loud noises and shouting. Just so everyone knows I was here.

"There's more to this than I thought Charlie!"

"I coulda had class, I could have been a contender, I coulda been somebody!"

Hell yeah!

Copywriting - six months on, a review.

When I started out I felt like I had it easy, from my perspective it was a win win situation from which I couldn't lose. Six months later I feel bowed and almost broken, but stubborn and unwilling to give up. Somewhere somehow, I've realised there's no way back for me now, too much freedom perhaps, but going back to working for an employer is too awful to contemplate, although I realise if things  really do go bottoms up, it's a reality I'll have to accept.

 

At the  moment things are fairly rocky and I'm wobbling slightly. This is mostly my own fault for making mistakes that could have been avoided. You know, the ones that every seasoned copywriter advises you against and I'm too cowardly and ashamed to confess on here. But it's a learning curve, you learn from your mistakes and I guess the one thing that splits the wheat from the chaff is whether or not you have the staying power to keep on trying. To get up and to keep fighting again and again, refusing to give up, and I've got plenty of staying power, believe me. I'm like a weeble "weebles wobble but they don't fall down" and neither do I.

 

If I can look back on this six months from now and say I did it, I made it, then I'll feel justifiably pleased with myself. My moods have been up and down of late, one minute I'm unnaturally happy, the next my heart's in my boots, I'm constantly anxious and my nerves are frayed. But after 10 years in the NHS that's nothing new and if this all works out, then it'll have been worth it. I learn fast and I'm a fighter.

 

So watch this space, and in December, if I'm still here and I'm alive and still doing the do, then do buy me a drink darling, mine's a large glass of red.

 

 

www.taith.net/