Oh child

I wish I could do more...what can I do? I don't believe that I can just sit in England knowing that there's a little girl hurting so much and I can't do a thing about it. If roles were reversed, what would she have done? 

I just want to give that child the biggest cuddle, tell her how special she is and let her be whoever the hell she wants to be. I'd let her cry, I'd let her shout and scream and be angry at all she's lost. I can empathise, I've raged and shouted and cried and wailed and I'm supposedly an adult woman. 

No one has beat me for doing all these things...

No one has forbid me from mourning. No one has punished me for it. 

So why do we expect children to adapt quickly and without scars? If someone woke me up tomorrow and in my parents place was a stranger and they said "hi, we're your parents now", I'd have questions, and be angry. Why do we expect a child to just accept that, without any fall out? 

I'm scared for that little girl and I'm scared I won't be able to do anything about it and I don't know where to begin.

http://youtu.be/j0tYkk_B-Cg

 

Shoes blues

Girls who walk in high heels like they have a carrot or three up their bottoms:

Didn't your mama ever tell you that a lady never walks like that in heels? You glide, you never stomp and you smile, you don't show the agony. And quite frankly, feet should not hurt at 8pm. 11 is a more suitable time. 

But I suspect your feet are on fire and In danger of losing toes to poor circulation, because you have stuffed those poor piggies into shoes FAR too small. They look like a fat chick in a size 8 g-string. 

L'pool

It's pretty official, I have liked every city I've been to in the last 24 months. And I've been to a few. 

But Liverpool is just something else. So friendly, so clean, so full of life, so good. 

I would like TB to see it, I think we do city breaks very well together and if we came here, we'd find it hard to leave. I haven't done anything remotely touristy and I haven't seen half of it. Yet I'm sad to leave. 

I think we must come back. 

Novembrrrrrrrrr

I hate being cold. It is most uncomfortable. I appreciate that in order for the world to turn, we need a mixture of heat and the other stuff. But wow! I do not like it. I prefer my chill factor to be the breeze coming off a tropical beach. 

I realised at about 4.30am that I probably should have worn gloves. Scraping the car from its icy covering of frost will impart this revelation. It's now 6.08am and I'm questioning the thickness of my socks....I'm fearful I'm about to lose three toes to frostbite. 

I'm on a train and the heating is at a trickle. I have half of one arm which is just above luke warm, the rest of me is ice cream. Frozen gelato. Of a fruity variety I would say. 

Not sure if I'm slightly manic because no good person should start their day at this time. Maybe milk people, but I work in a place with desks and printers and stuff. Maybe I'm manic because I'm gelato.  

Gloves, I need at least one. 

21-11-2006

I was sitting in an Italian restaurant this week thinking of my nana and how much she influenced me in my conduct. How when she told me I was a lovely young lady, it was like I had been given the moon on a stick. How she conducted herself set a bench stone. 

In a era where women were judged so completely if they didn't have a man, she taught me that ladies can do it all, and still be womanly.  She was a beautiful woman who was so full of smarts. She enriched herself, learning all the time up to the point dementia took hold. She has inspired me. There is no question of that. 9 years today, my legs buckled under me as I heard she had passed....it just doesn't seem that long ago but life has changed so much since then. I still look to her for how I should behave, using her as that bench mark. I can hear her saying my name in her voice. She said it very different to how anyone else did.

Yes, she indulged me. In completely different ways to how I was indulged by everyone else. She challenged me. On our long drives to wherever, she played advocate and we had debates about everything. She truly was a modern woman before they became on trend. 

I wish I had known her better as the adult I am now. I wish she could have known CG as the adult he is becoming. 

My beautiful nana, still missed after all these years but never forgotten. 

Cashino 3

And I'm at another casino. It's pretty. The carpet isn't sticky and it's really busy. But where are my characters? Where are my crying gamblers with their chips of shame? Where are the lecherous old men with their deplorable winks? This is my 3rd casino of the year and by far the most gentle. 

Reading was my favourite, it was glam and loud and sparkly but it had the people who were able to be watched, and while I'm honest, have a little giggle about. 

Tonight I will not gamble and the reason is simple, this is the place I could get drawn into. This particular casino would give me a gambling problem. I'd start with a mere little cheeky bet....i would end up living in Brighton, being 75 and wearing glitter on my eyelids, just putting "one more tenner" of my pension on the table. Because the people around me are people I don't deride, they are dressed well, talk decently. I can't judge these people, for they look like they don't live in a gambling house of fun all day and night. As pretty as Reading was, it had the people, the shrieking women, the stereotypes I abhor. The other Brighton one has the intense emotion of the poor who shouldn't be putting their dole-clad feet within 10 metres of a casino - they should rather stick to the amusements. 

As ever these places fascinate me. The money that runs through them is phenomenal. I should have fulfilled my dad's ambition for me to be a welder by day, croupier by night, ballet dancer on weekends. They could have made a movie about me, they'd have called it "Flashdealt". *grin* 

What a great night it's been. Date night? I am wearing a nice dress, although I left my shoes at home (my feet are probably very grateful). I've had wine, pizza, olives, (alas no dough balls)...and the company of TB. Purrrrfect. 

November time

It's the time of year when I can feel myself getting sad. However, this year, it's not going to happen (says the woman who drove today with puddles of tears in her ears desperately missing her best friend). No I'm being serious, this year I'm not getting sad. Today was a little lapse.... a little bit of I'm feeling sorry for myself - I was thinking 'shit... I haven't got any proper close local friends' and this caused me a bit of sadness for a moment, until I realised that I don't like anyone enough. Then I was fine. I do kind of miss having a super close friend like LB was - but in retrospect, how good was she for me - not much as it turns out. And then I got to thinking 'aaah you're protecting yourself, you don't seek out new friends in case it buggers up'. That's rubbish, I just haven't found a kindred spirit yet... I'm excluding TB in this for although he is immense with the giggles and the being able to empty my mind with him (JUST like you'd do with an awesome friend), in this instance, I mean a girl.... but I've said local because actually I have far away close friends who share history and love me for the idiot I am. Maybe I'm too tired to go through the rigmarole of looking for a confidante? And seriously, they all come with their own friends built in - sooo essentially, I'm looking for another me and that's just tiresome!

The big truth is, it's coming up for 11 November and I'm remembering my Nhandi. So I start looking into myself for what I think I need again and the reality is, I don't.

THIS 11th November is going to be awesome however and something she should have done but obviously didn't. No matter, I'm doing it. Another road trip - nope not a road trip...there shall be no roads!! This is an air adventure and shall be memory making of that I'm sure. Trés excitement.. which is not a clue... if I had said Shamrock excitement then maybe that would have been a clue...