Happy Birthday to 33andlostinlife!

Yesterday was my anniversary so WordPress has informed me.  A year ago is when I registered with WordPress and wrote my very first short, but sweet blog.  You can read it here https://33andlostinlife.wordpress.com/2012/01/27/why-am-i-writing-this-blog/.

Who would have thought that a year later I would still be writing.  I guess that’s the point of a blog.  There have been lots of times when the tumbleweed has been blowing around, the whistling of the wind being the only sound.  But recently I’ve been writing a lot.  I mean, on January 21st I wrote three blog posts.  This will be my second blog post today, and if you haven’t read it yet then you should definitely check it out https://33andlostinlife.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/i-spy-summer/.

Recently my blogs seem to be reaching a bit further.  Many other bloggers have been liking my posts and likewise, I’m getting to read many other blogs.  To know that I am part of this blogging world is great for me, because it helps me to believe that there may be a future out there for me in writing.

Anyway, on this momentous occasion, I just want to say thank you to my followers; to all those who have been there from the start, those who I’ve picked up along the way, and to anybody who has only recently found this blog.  I know there’s lots of you out there who read my blog, and believe me, it means a lot when someone tells me they’ve read it.  It’s what makes me determined to keep writing it.  I would probably write even if nobody read it, because for me it’s quite therapeutic, and often I’m writing when I’m stressed and it does help to get my feelings down onto virtual paper.  But if you like what I write, then consider clicking like on my posts, or leaving a comment.  Or if you don’t want to do that, then next time you see me, make sure you let me know you’re on this journey with me.


I Spy Summer

Twice a year I have the ability to see the future. Yesterday was one of those days. All the snow had been washed away by the previous night’s rain and in its place was beautiful blue skies and bright sunshine. Who cares if it’s only January 28th; I can see summer! Of course, I use the term ‘summer’ loosely, since the British summer is about as reliable as a dry spell during Wimbledon.

The second day of premonition occurs usually around September time, when you see the last of the summer sun and feel the chill in the air, you know the one. The one that makes you want to exchange your flip flops for two pairs of socks, at least one of them thermal, and a nice pair of winter boots. Not to mention scarf, gloves and ear muffs.

Speaking of flip flops, I could probably have done with a pair on Saturday night. Having been out to celebrate my friend Kathleen Drury’s 30th birthday, we took one look at the taxi queue and decided to walk home. We got halfway when suddenly my Nine West heels didn’t quite feel like the slippers that they did when I tried them on in the shop.

I had this sudden urge to relieve my aching feet, which had by that time done quite enough jiving on Lola Lo’s light up dance floor (no-one’s seen moves like that since Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever days). Thing was, it was raining. I knew if I took off my shoes, it was the point of no return. A bit like Marty McFly in Back to the Future Part III. Speaking of which, if I’d had a hoverboard, none of this would have happened. Come on science geeks, you’ve got two years to invent hoverboards and flying cars. Oh, and one of those jackets that self-dries would be fab. You can forget about the automatically doing-up shoes though.

Anyway, back to the shoes, and my poor toesies, which felt like they must be square and completely deformed by now. So I took a deep breath, and took them off.

The relief of removing that gorgeous pair of heels was short lived, as my stockinged feet touched the cold, wet Tarmac. And when I say cold, I mean cold. The snow had only just melted, remember?

So I walked home, and though my feet didn’t hurt so much, I was a little concerned I might have frostbite and the need to have my toes amputated by morning.

But I did arrive home safe and sound, and so did my Nine Wests. Poor tights, they did have to go in the bin, a great gaping hole having formed under the ball of my right foot. But as I replaced the wet, ruined tights with a warm, comfy pair of slippers, I smiled over what a great night myself, Kathleen and my Nine Wests had.

As for the morning, well no hangover from my Porn Star Martinis (my new favourite beverage care of the White Hart hotel, where Tom Hanks stayed during filming for The Da Vinci Code) and a perfect view of the promise of summer. Although next time, I’ll take my fold-up flats too. Or my hoverboard.


Hard to believe it’s been almost a year since I made that fateful trip across the pond.  If you weren’t reading my blog or you didn’t know me back then, you can read all about it here http://wp.me/p2ayN0-a.  Basically it took a lot of money, miles and self-doubt to make me realise that I didn’t want to give up on my dreams, no matter how hard it gets.

I still regret that I didn’t stay to hear Mission Hill play.  I fell in love with their music within five seconds of hearing the first song I played, Backstabber.  I don’t know whether it’s Adam Jensen’s vocals or his meaningful lyrics, but he’s passionate about what he does, and as someone who is trying to find what I am passionate about, it’s inspiring.

I just listened to Adam’s latest solo work, “Monsters” from the upcoming release “Head on a String”.  It’s about the monsters you hear in your head and the realisation is, what do you do when the monsters…are you?

It’s taken me a long time to realise that the monster is inside me, and only I can cast it out.  Depression is like a cloud that is always there; on bad days, like those days back in February last year, it goes black and rains so hard you don’t think it is ever going to stop.  Often it just hovers overhead, threatening to rain on your parade and ruin everything you’ve ever worked for.  Even on the sunny days, when the sky is blue and the sun is shining, you know he’s there…somewhere.

But slowly, surely, I’m coming to know that I can beat the monster.  It’s people like Adam who inspire those of us who are still trying to find their love, and I’m not talking about dating.  I’m talking about the one thing that is part of you, part of your soul.  That one thing you do that will inspire people of generations to come.

Take a listen to Monsters.  And make sure you get the EP when it’s released on 29th January.



Three Posts and a Maybe

So it seems like I’m going for the record: three blog posts in one day.  Never been done before, certainly not by me.  Today has been very down then slightly up, although I feel myself slipping again.  Part of me should be grateful; that at least I am writing, but why do things have to go wrong for me to be able to write?  Is it too much to ask that I be happy and still be able to write a blog about my life.

Like any good soap opera though, the good parts are few and far between.  It is the drama that makes it so watchable.  You’ll always find a high body count on Christmas Day in EastEnders, Coronation Street, Emmerdale (for international readers, the UK’s top Soap Operas and thus, the UK’s most watched TV shows).  But why do so many people tune in?  It’s not because they’re too exhausted to move after their huge turkey dinner.  Ok, well maybe it is.  But mainly it’s because the dramatic plots are what attract people’s interest.  People love a good murder, plane crash, unsuspecting spouse being served with divorce papers (yes, EastEnders’-Den-Watts-serves-wife-Angie-with-divorce-papers-shocker from Christmas Day 1986 still tops the countdown of any Christmas Soap Storyline Poll).

Now I’m not saying that my blog readers only want to read my blog when my life is going down the toilet.  Well, some of them might.  But I’d like to think that most of them read it and hope, like me, for better days.

I guess what has hit me most today, is that I have been upset over what really shouldn’t be affecting me so much.  The bare foundations of a ‘relationship’ (and I use this term extremely loosely), which really hit a brick wall before it even got planning permission.  In my first blog, perhaps during my initial reaction stage, I made it seem like it was the guy’s fault, but really it was more to do with circumstance and bad timing.  Which is really the crux of it.  I met a wonderful guy, we got on really well, we both liked each other, but our individual circumstances are such that we are both in situations where the next few months are crucial, and after that who knows where we will be.  He was sensible enough to see that it had to stop, which is something I was not brave enough to do.  But it still hurts, because once again I feel like I have been closer to what I want, namely a relationship; closer than I have been in a long time.  But the last one, almost two and a half years ago, ended after only six weeks, a consequence of circumstances hurtled way out of my control.

I am reassured by friends, at least you had only been seeing him a few weeks.  Yes, true.  But why I can’t I ever get past that magical month?  Anyway, the man thing is being shelved for a while.  I have 15 weeks until I am free to do whatever I want with my life; move to the Outer Hebrides, become a florist, maybe join the circus.  The world is my oyster.  Time to woman up and make sure I’m ready to seize the opportunity to move on.

And then there was peace…

A few hours ago I wrote a blog at the height of emotion; tears were flowing freely, violently. In my mind was chaos, obliteration. The storm raged and took it’s toll. But now I am calm.

I realise I have a strong support network, and that has been a big help to me in the last few hours, to see the bigger picture. I am 15 weeks away from handing in my final piece of Uni work, and that is what I need to focus on now. I cannot let myself be distracted by partly self-inflicted weather conditions. THAT is what is important. Like the calm after the storm; the blue sky after the rain; I see my destination now. No more distractions. Follow my dreams…


Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be.  What a load of shite.

Once again I have become a victim of internet dating.  This time I can take some comfort in the fact that it’s not me, it’s him, or so I’m told.  We are victims of circumstance and busy lives, uncertain futures and student poverty.

As women we are told we can have it all – career, family, love.  Maybe that is why I feel such despair at having none of the above.  I know I’m on the way to finding those things, but I truly wonder if it will be possible to have it all since it seems so impossible to even have one.

As I struggle to write my dissertation on the confinement of women and the effect on creativity and self, I know in my soul that my choice of topic is the correct one.  I just wonder if there is any contentment for me, or if that is just reserved for the women of fiction?

Girl Least Likely To Be…

As I walked towards uni this morning, it occurred to me that had you told me twenty years ago that I would have been on my way to university, where I study, to represent the mature and postgraduate students of the University of Lincoln, otherwise known as MAPS, the group I co-founded and coordinated for its first two years, and to which I have recently been voted Chair, I would have laughed in your face.  Well, actually, I probably would not have laughed; I would have blushed very hard because you had talked to me at all, and then I would have hung my head and mumbled something incoherent in reply.

MAPS was one of the first things I really felt like I had achieved in life.  The first time I updated my CV (resume) to include my MAPS Co-founder/Coordinator  role, I remember feeling so proud that I had actually achieved something, something that could be recorded officially on a piece of paper that I would use to get myself a job in the future.

I guess this is important to me because as I start looking at my other options now that a scholarship to study in the US is unlikely, I have to look at my extra-curricular activities, for that is what employers will be looking at.  Having been a Lady of Leisure for over a year now, excluding the four month’s temp work I did last year, I have kind of gotten used to not working.  However, speaking to Jon, my Life Coach, earlier this evening, I admitted that I was actually excited about going back to work.  This surprised me somewhat, because I guess in the last few months my focus for the future has been on further study.  But when I think about what I really want to do, I think perhaps I’m ready to go back into the working world.  But not to any old office job.  I want a job in publishing.  Preferably a job where I can use my writing skills.  Or at least, to start with, where I can help other people use theirs.  (If you’re reading this and want to offer me a job, please don’t hesitate to get in contact…!  Yes, I’m not beyond begging in these trying times.)

Speaking of university, I have to complete my online profile, which will go in the yearbook for the Class of ’13.  If you’ve watched any American college/high school movie, you’ll know that a yearbook is full of photographs of the kids of that class, usually categorised into Girl Most Likely To Become Famous, Boy Most Likely To Become A Bank Manager…you get the idea.  Since it’s not something that’s particularly traditional over here in the UK, I guess I’ve always used it a little tongue in cheek when talking about myself, such as Girl Least Likely To Have A Radio Show, Girl Most Likely To End Up On A Milk Carton….that one’s probably lost on most of the UK too, so let’s go with Girl Most Likely To Not Go Anywhere.  But were I to pick the categories I’d fall into now, I hope they would read Girl Most Likely To Write A Novel, and Girl Least Likely To Give Up.  Because I’m not giving up.  It may have taken a long time to get me where I am now, and I’m not there yet, but I’m the Girl Most Enjoying The Journey.


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