Let's be a cliché

It's the end of the year, and also the decade. Makes a person all kinds of reflective. And I'm not sure if this decade has gone past at a normal amount of speed, or just whizzed by. Connor was 11, now he's 21 - that feels longer than 10 years.


So breaking it down.... '89 - '99 probably had the most growth - 15-25 years old. I left school, fell in love and became a mother. '99 - '09, now this is the decade that flashed past. And now this past one - travelled so flipping much, discovered festivals, enjoyed life really. Lost my best friend and my brother. I still maintain 89-99 had the most growth as in I grew up, but this past one, I grew into liking myself, growing myself. Becoming all shades of adult.


There's aspects of who I am now, that I don't like. I catch myself saying something, that's so out of odds of who I think I am. And contrary... one minute I'm all for something, the next I turn on that something like it's evil personified. What is that about? Yes, I'm far more opinionated than I've ever been before. Or maybe, I was just opinionated in my head, now I'm not fussed who gets to hear it. Not really painting myself as fabulous!


BUT, and herein lies the but, I do think I focussed on everyone else being happy and 'keeping the peace' 'all for an easy life' for so long that now I'm more focussed on me being peacefully happy, this strange lady is coming out.


If you don't ask for something, you will not get it. If you smile and nudge towards the thing you want, you will not get it in a timely fashion and someone else might nab it instead. No, be bold, be brave and go get it. Yourself.


See, here's the thing, my family were full of strong independent women - of course they were - who taught me to be that woman as well. My papa and dad made sure I believed I was the best - dad taught me how to solder! They sent me to really strong only girls schools who empowered young girls to be as good as their counterparts. And it's taken me a few decades to consolidate that learning, to grow myself into the female I want to be. Strong yet flexible - sparkly yet witty. Feminine (and I don't think I should apologise for that) and completely able. And maybe my generation (female) wants absolutely everything - the moon on a stick - and to be everything. And bugger it, I was that single mother who worked full time and was everything to everyone. So yeah... I can have it all. And I do want it all. And maybe at the end of the next decade, I might relax into enjoying it all. But for now, there be dragons to slay and lands to conquer.

do you remember?

In 200 days time, I shall see two bands in what is a dream line up for me. And ticks many buckets off the list.

Now I’ve seen Pearl Jam before, but this time they come with The Pixies. That 16 year old me, of years passed, would be having a veritable shit fit - maybe that should go into #lettertomyyoungerself “hey Ali, I know it’s only 1990, but in 2020 you’ll see The Pixies”. 

Ha! A 30 year wait. Poor thing. 

Anyway, I need to thank the person who gifted me them and Doolittle. He was a boy from SACS called Matthew. I remember my first hearing of Doolittle and it was like nothing I’d heard before. Nothing. We were in a little house in Harfield Village. And I think it was the first album that just made me want to get up and wave myself back and forth. We then listened to it non-stop. It was a tape of a tape so quality was crap but still we played it constantly. I moved to PE without a copy to call my own, just some songs I had got off Barney Simons radio show. Then a guy at my new school (Grant), coped me a copy. Again quality was rubbish but I loved it. I believe it was the album that got me into that genre. And when I could go clubbing, I was able to just completely lose myself on the dance floor to ‘where is my mind’. Oh those nights at the Baron were the best. 

Pearl Jam came a bit later. We were at a house party, Steven had got a copy of this new album “Ten”. I was sitting on the floor by the tape deck and I was mesmerised by Alive etc. The music went straight through me. Steven gave me Pearl Jam. What a gift. And I’ve just realised I’ve seen them live with him every time. That’s so cool. 

Such huge influences on my ear, my music and me. 

Both albums I can listen to without skipping a song. Both albums in my Top 10 all time. 

Thank you Matt Matt Matty and Stevo. 🎼 

N squared

Where do I begin? Today is the birthday of two of the women, who definitely had a hand in who I am. One was with me for 32 years, the other for 24. And the older I get, the more I realise their impact on me. 

My nana....different with me than anyone. She wasn’t the cuddly sort - I had Granny for that. But her love was so much there. I always wanted to make her proud of me. And she was ALWAYS on my side - even when I was a brat of a teenager. I used to think at that age, that she “got” me more than my mom did. And I think it’s because (clarity with age), I was so much like her. She used to say I was the spitting image of her grandmother. But I look at the pictures of her, and I’m the image of her. And like her, I’ve found myself 20 years after my peers. Happiness on my own, goals achieved in later years. I do believe I have made her proud. I am the lady she wished me to be. 

But what do I remember my nana for. Reading together, taystee wheat, cooking, her sense of humour which is as kooky as mine (and Connor’s), road trips and culture. Traipsing around material shops. Her making her own birthday cake...and always thinking she deserved more than that. But she enjoyed it. And how much she adored Connor. Even when she was coming to the end of her life. She was all about us. 

And then we have Nhandi. I loved that they shared a birthday. That they got on so well. That Nana used to centre a meal plan around Nhandi’s religion. Even at Christmas time. 

My Nhandi. I can never thank her enough for choosing me. And choose me she did, because I was far too awkward to make the first friend move. And she was sooooo confident to the eye...a total sham as she wasn’t, but played it well. 

She was the sister I chose. Even when we irrated the crap out of each other...we still knew we were each other’s “person”. In 24 years, that never changed. She understood. 

So on this day, 23 December, I raise a glass and remember the two remarkable women who I love and miss so dearly. 

Happy birthday Nana and Nhandi. 

Xx 

Gosh

Gosh, I wish I was more dedicated to writing more of a blog.


However, I am writing more. I bought a (very gold and glittery) A4 book when I was out in SA and I just wrote. Page upon page of all the things. And the book is done. All filled up to the brim with my words. I've read it back and I'm glad I did it. I'm proud of it. It needs bones and more words and structure and all sorts of things like that. But the emotion is there, more importantly the heart of it is there.


So now what.... now I 'flesh' it out and then I look at where it's next journey will take it. And maybe it won't go anywhere just yet. I think that would be okay.


In other news, Summer has well and truly left UK shores. It's cold, it's dark, damp and yet it's not so bad. Ha! Who am I kidding... it's bloody horrible. BUT when I'm keeping warm, I'm content. It's only when I'm battling with the frozen body that I get grumpy. And then I make myself stop, there are plenty who have far more woes, than a few cold toes. (oooh rhyming, how novel!)


Winter will not break me this year. I vow to be better. :)