I want to be in a tent

I have the festival blues. Or maybe it's not so much the festival blues as opposed to the 'outside' blues. The joy of camping maybe. The setting up of a tent, getting your chairs out, making a fire. Just relaxing....fresh air, chatting, a drink or five. Hearing sounds but relishing the quiet of doing nothing. Making your space your own. Exploring around. Walking miles, just having a wander. 

I have outside blues, back to basic blues, 21st century, 1st world blues. 

It's north but it's south

And we're back. After a while. It's so lovely. It's even cloudy and not so warm. But it's great being back. 

He's fantastic. Annihilator. He's confident. I watch him striding across the court, his serve is immense. Looking great. His shirt rides up just a bit. It's a head butt place. Rock star. 

Last week was great but watching this is better. Maybe because I'm privy to the journey? 

I can hear the sea. I'm happy here. It's been a crazy year, but I'm calm. I'm chilled. The sea. The air. Here. Bear. They all do that. 

That little girl inside

So I'm reading through my hard drive - sounds filthy but it's not. I'm literally reading my hard drive. And I come across this little gem.  It's made me smile. It's about the start of facebook I guess. It's a little long winded and strange in itself.

I wrote about how you connect with those people from your past. Who knew you as a child, who you've 'friended' as an adult via social media and how you end up remembering how they made me feel. It's basically about my first big crush and how I became a pre-teen again, wondering if I should friend request him. Even though I was a woman. I wrote about how it's good to revisit who you were.

The funny thing about my first crush is that our circles ran along side each other for most of my teens and still now. I doubt he has any indication that I was so besotted....or if he did, has no memory of it now. We live in different countries, yet we still connect and converse. And that 12 year old who felt physically ill in his presence is gone. He's lost his exotic allure of being a boy. He's just a human friend to me.

And that little girl who was me was funny, now I think about it. She was all squiff teeth and freckles. Short - the one everyone calls cute and pats on the head. And she made people laugh. If I was wondering what people thought about me 'way back when', Facebook has done that one thing for me. If only I could tell that girl that people really thought she was lovely, and would actively seek her out to reconnect, maybe she wouldnt' have been so shy, so afraid to intrude. But then, maybe she wouldn't have been so nice.

I did say sorry for being a bitch to an old school friend. And they were astounded that I thought I was. Maybe girls want to be seen as bitchy - so that people think they don't get hurt? I wonder how many would be surprised at how many nights I cried myself to sleep over a boy, over an argument with a friend, over first world problems, over famine and the state my country was in. Maybe they wouldnt' be surprised? 

And I can admit to being the less than perfect friend, i can admit to being the one who always got her way, who dragged her best friend around the streets even though poor Nhandi had a cast on her leg... so not cool....I still feel guilty about that one.

Now I'm not sure if there is a point to this blog and I'm certainly not about to put the contents of my hard-drive onto this blog..... it's just been nice to reflect that I was a funny little thing with so much emotion and giggles in me... and you know maybe I havent' changed that much! That little girl is still inside, all silly and giggly and blushing from her toes.

In the words of Sammy Davis Jnr: Savour the moments, that are warm, special and giggly

Certainly one of my life mottos.

🍸

Martini. It's a fabulous drink. I think it's my drink. I feel like I could have many.  I don't even bother with the shaking and stirring...I'm not JBond. And while olives are tasty, I prefer them with cheese. 

Here is it...my thirst quencher, my summertime loving in a glass 

Act10

We were chatting about actors. And how people obsess over them. Are they that great? And it occurred to me, that while there are a few I rather like, I don't have an actor I could gush over. As in "oh my god, i'd just DIE if he/she was here". And in fact I don't think I would....people all the same. I am the girl that stuck her tongue out at Jared Leto so...I guess that could be proving my point. Well, I didn't want him to think I was a fan-girl. And he stuck his tongue out too, so I feel like it was mission accomplished. 

Yes, there are loads I admire. Appreciate for the fine performance they put on. But obsess, dream, want to be or be with?  Nope not one. When I was a pre-teen.....hell yes....being as young as 8 and arguing, no screaming at my considerably older cousin that a singer was going to be mine. The fact he was gay put a spanner in those works. And I've never met him...but I'm still confident he'd like me more than he would like her. 

Maybe Jared Leto is my favourite. He  ticks actor and singer boxes. Maybe I'm just not 10 anymore. 

From Brighton with love of gin

Casino again. I love this place. It just has the best energy. I've been to others, I've seen the losses. But this one. This one is full of people who just don't cry. They're the people with money to spend and they're spending it. I've just noticed that all the signs are in English and Chinese. I've made friends who assume I'm moneyed up as well. High flying holidays to Bali have been discussed. I guess I can snob out as well as the next. Mr Pavey sir, you are a gentleman of the old guard and it suits you. Then there's my new friend in the seat next to me...I guess I have a friendly face. He's just won a substantial amount and is waiting for the big guns to validate his win. He's playing it cool, but by the way he's clutching his receipt and keeps looking at it, caressing it with his eyes, it's a large amount. He's a happy man. He's also a polite man. 

So this place rocks. I'm wearing a great dress...I'm money up so have walked away from the bloody machines. Now it's time to watch. 

I also have a new drink. Gin with elderflower. It's supremely yummy. What a great weekend. Wowee 

Might be fit

Joined the gym. Yup get the laughing done before you read on. 

But it's great. Now I've joined a gym before and it wasn't a wholly pleasant experience. 

It was a sticky place. By that I mean, you could feel (physically and mentally) the sweat that had passed through, the failed fitness dreams. The yuck. 

I did not like the same sex change rooms for swimming. Yeah sure, I got to converse with TB but, I also got to thinking that maybe it wasn't all sweat and water I was stepping in. 

And I had to be bribed to go. That's not effective to anyone, least of all me, considering the bribery took form in ice cream. 

I have a feeling that there will be no coercion required at this new gym place. 

For one, I don't feel sticky when I leave. Everything is fresh and clean and lovely. And I don't feel like I'm a pleb because i don't know what all the machines are called-apparently they aren't medieval torture devices. 

The pool is fantastic with a stop watch thingie so that I know I'm super fast....and I am slightly competitive enough to want to break my current lap time. 

I feel happy when I arrive and amazing when I leave. This has all the markings of a great experience. YESH!!!!