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Monday, June 29, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Why you should always aim high where men are concerned.
2009 is now well underway and so far, so good! I am still on track in terms of focus, determination and studiously avoiding all things of an emotionally-charged, relationship-type slant. And the good news is that I'm not even having to try; it's like 2008 Debsy has well and truly left the building......or maybe that should be pre-2009 Debsy.
For a whole host of reasons I've decided that this will be my last entry in this blog. I'm going to carry on writing, but this blog is now too visible and public to the point when I have to be careful what I write, and there ain't no fun in that ;-)
I don't know if I ever really engaged before with this relaxed, pragmatic and self-sufficient girl before, but I really like her and I've decided she should stay. She is the girl I always said I was, but deep down I still yearned for approval from everyone except myself. She lives life in 3D and she isn't afraid to look over the edge of the cliff.
And all this necessitates a look at where my life is heading, and the parameters that must pre-exist to make the journey viable.
The numero uno parameter......no relationships with men of even the slightest emotional nature (that would be in respect of "maybe we might get married one day....", not as in "he's a good pal, we should go out and get trolleyed") Because I have now decided that I will under no circumstances get married again. In fact, as things stand today, I doubt I will ever co-habit again. But I do like having male friends, even though that can get a bit tetchy sometimes.
Of course I do realise people will conjecture that by saying "I'll never get married again" the seal of fate is fairly and squarely on me walking down the aisle one last time. But those words I just typed........ well, let's just say there's more chance of me being selected for the 2012 Olympics than shopping for a trousseau again.
One thing that is certain is that when I do take the plunge again, there will be no compromising at all (I should qualify that by "take the plunge", I mean dating exclusively) And especially no compromising in terms of how he treats me.
There's no easy way to say this folks, I have been treated pretty abysmally in my relationships, and 2008 was a vintage year. But of course, I allowed it to happen so no-one else to blame on that one. For so long I have struggled to reconcile the fact that I've been emotionally kicked to the floor more times than I care to remember, but now I've managed it.
Now I realise that once you are self-sufficient in every area of your life that matters and you treat yourself with respect, you won't take being dicked around by man, vegetable or mineral.
Of course, I can talk in such grandiose tones because I'm sat in front of the most beautiful new iMac that, quite frankly, I love more than any bloke I may have chanced upon.
Together I know we can conquer the world, and then I can have my Audi TT.
So the moral of this story is that as women, we should always aim high where men are concerned.
A Red Arrows pilot is good, as long as he is single and the squadron leader.
A plastic surgeon performing miracle work on disfigured children from war-torn and third world countries. Nice.
A leading human rights barrister who champions the underdog to the end, putting morals and ethics before everything. Swoon.
Or simply men who aren't threatened by us, who don't attempt to manipulate and who love us for who we are.
Actually, option 4 sounds the best now I've read through them again. The first three sound like they'd have ego issues ;-)
That's me done. All that's left to say is:
Love unconditionally, live each day to the full and be utterly fabulous xxx
For a whole host of reasons I've decided that this will be my last entry in this blog. I'm going to carry on writing, but this blog is now too visible and public to the point when I have to be careful what I write, and there ain't no fun in that ;-)
I don't know if I ever really engaged before with this relaxed, pragmatic and self-sufficient girl before, but I really like her and I've decided she should stay. She is the girl I always said I was, but deep down I still yearned for approval from everyone except myself. She lives life in 3D and she isn't afraid to look over the edge of the cliff.
And all this necessitates a look at where my life is heading, and the parameters that must pre-exist to make the journey viable.
The numero uno parameter......no relationships with men of even the slightest emotional nature (that would be in respect of "maybe we might get married one day....", not as in "he's a good pal, we should go out and get trolleyed") Because I have now decided that I will under no circumstances get married again. In fact, as things stand today, I doubt I will ever co-habit again. But I do like having male friends, even though that can get a bit tetchy sometimes.
Of course I do realise people will conjecture that by saying "I'll never get married again" the seal of fate is fairly and squarely on me walking down the aisle one last time. But those words I just typed........ well, let's just say there's more chance of me being selected for the 2012 Olympics than shopping for a trousseau again.
One thing that is certain is that when I do take the plunge again, there will be no compromising at all (I should qualify that by "take the plunge", I mean dating exclusively) And especially no compromising in terms of how he treats me.
There's no easy way to say this folks, I have been treated pretty abysmally in my relationships, and 2008 was a vintage year. But of course, I allowed it to happen so no-one else to blame on that one. For so long I have struggled to reconcile the fact that I've been emotionally kicked to the floor more times than I care to remember, but now I've managed it.
Now I realise that once you are self-sufficient in every area of your life that matters and you treat yourself with respect, you won't take being dicked around by man, vegetable or mineral.
Of course, I can talk in such grandiose tones because I'm sat in front of the most beautiful new iMac that, quite frankly, I love more than any bloke I may have chanced upon.
Together I know we can conquer the world, and then I can have my Audi TT.
So the moral of this story is that as women, we should always aim high where men are concerned.
A Red Arrows pilot is good, as long as he is single and the squadron leader.
A plastic surgeon performing miracle work on disfigured children from war-torn and third world countries. Nice.
A leading human rights barrister who champions the underdog to the end, putting morals and ethics before everything. Swoon.
Or simply men who aren't threatened by us, who don't attempt to manipulate and who love us for who we are.
Actually, option 4 sounds the best now I've read through them again. The first three sound like they'd have ego issues ;-)
That's me done. All that's left to say is:
Love unconditionally, live each day to the full and be utterly fabulous xxx
Monday, January 5, 2009
That's really bad Tom, isn't it......?
My pal Tom and I go back a very, very, very long way. Not in respect of sharing a bath together at the age of two, but we have shared life experience aplenty, and consequently have discussed the heck out of said experiences (more me talking at him if the truth be told, ladies and gentleman).
We worked together many moons ago and struck up a close bond, based fairly solidly around the fact that to start with, we both liked a smoke and a latte of a morning when we worked in the cut-and-thrust world of corporate sales in London. Actually we liked several smokes and accompanying lattes. That was in the day when you got paid for sitting around and having a good time very occasionally.
So imagine my glee and delight when we agreed that he would come and crash chez Debsy last weekend so that we may hit the town in order for me to consume mucho vino and Tom could perform the role that he performs so ably, that of my confessor. Tom the Confessor to the fallen Debsy. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it, and Tom is a master at it. Of course, I should qualify that by "confessor" I refer to the spiritual type that you divulge your not-so-fabulous admissions to, rather than it be the other way around (as in "confessee", which isn't a word at all, but you get my drift).
It doesn't matter how I dress up any justification to Tom, he always sees straight through it and to it's very core. After my latest admission of rather huge shock and ample accompanying horror, he looked me straight in the eye and said:
"Deb, you crack me up. Whenever you divulge your latest misgiving to me, after giving me the gory detail you look half sideways at me, dip your head and say "that's really bad, Tom.....isn't it?" as you bite your bottom lip"
Spot on. I always do it.Partly because I think that by adopting a little girl stance I may get judged lightly, or hey, let's not beat around the bush here, there could even be a total pardon on the cards if I play it right.
But not with Tom. No way Jose.
He scored me 8.6 out of 10 on the Totally Unacceptable Behaviour chart on Saturday night after hearing my full and detailed evidence.
Bless his heart, he did go on to recall a past misdemeanour of his own that we agreed warranted a 9 out of 10.
I am practically a novice at the side of Tom, it seems.
It also gave me great pleasure in sharing my new found passion for crystal therapy with Tom; something newly discovered in the Rainbow Room in Market Rasen, which is now my favourite hang-out.
When I explained how I needed to place an abundance crystal in my wealth corner and a rose quartz in my relationship corner, he commented "Deb, I know you're really into this but I can't tell you how hard I'm trying not to laugh right now....."
The man will eat his words when I display my newly acquired abundance to him in the coming months....
Newly-acquired with the help of my new love..... a new acquaintance that has actually demonstrated to me that I am sure to fall apart whenever I am in the presence of my love's beauty and greatness.
My new iMac.
Everyone who has seen it has marvelled at it's beauty, poise and gravitas. Thankfully it is easily unplugged so that I can carry it tenderly up the stairs each night to my bedroom where I tuck it under my duvet. I am totally besotted.
And so my friends.....I have to get back to Mac right now, but not before adding this totally fabulous track currently playing at my place of work.
Gotta find way to get into your heart.
We worked together many moons ago and struck up a close bond, based fairly solidly around the fact that to start with, we both liked a smoke and a latte of a morning when we worked in the cut-and-thrust world of corporate sales in London. Actually we liked several smokes and accompanying lattes. That was in the day when you got paid for sitting around and having a good time very occasionally.
So imagine my glee and delight when we agreed that he would come and crash chez Debsy last weekend so that we may hit the town in order for me to consume mucho vino and Tom could perform the role that he performs so ably, that of my confessor. Tom the Confessor to the fallen Debsy. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it, and Tom is a master at it. Of course, I should qualify that by "confessor" I refer to the spiritual type that you divulge your not-so-fabulous admissions to, rather than it be the other way around (as in "confessee", which isn't a word at all, but you get my drift).
It doesn't matter how I dress up any justification to Tom, he always sees straight through it and to it's very core. After my latest admission of rather huge shock and ample accompanying horror, he looked me straight in the eye and said:
"Deb, you crack me up. Whenever you divulge your latest misgiving to me, after giving me the gory detail you look half sideways at me, dip your head and say "that's really bad, Tom.....isn't it?" as you bite your bottom lip"
Spot on. I always do it.Partly because I think that by adopting a little girl stance I may get judged lightly, or hey, let's not beat around the bush here, there could even be a total pardon on the cards if I play it right.
But not with Tom. No way Jose.
He scored me 8.6 out of 10 on the Totally Unacceptable Behaviour chart on Saturday night after hearing my full and detailed evidence.
Bless his heart, he did go on to recall a past misdemeanour of his own that we agreed warranted a 9 out of 10.
I am practically a novice at the side of Tom, it seems.
It also gave me great pleasure in sharing my new found passion for crystal therapy with Tom; something newly discovered in the Rainbow Room in Market Rasen, which is now my favourite hang-out.
When I explained how I needed to place an abundance crystal in my wealth corner and a rose quartz in my relationship corner, he commented "Deb, I know you're really into this but I can't tell you how hard I'm trying not to laugh right now....."
The man will eat his words when I display my newly acquired abundance to him in the coming months....
Newly-acquired with the help of my new love..... a new acquaintance that has actually demonstrated to me that I am sure to fall apart whenever I am in the presence of my love's beauty and greatness.
My new iMac.
Everyone who has seen it has marvelled at it's beauty, poise and gravitas. Thankfully it is easily unplugged so that I can carry it tenderly up the stairs each night to my bedroom where I tuck it under my duvet. I am totally besotted.
And so my friends.....I have to get back to Mac right now, but not before adding this totally fabulous track currently playing at my place of work.
Gotta find way to get into your heart.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Why do all men make hair removal jokes about the iMac?
You could put money on it and get a reasonable return; I knew once I had posted on Facebook "Debsylee is so excited to be getting her iMac and Adobe CS4 software; how sad is that??!" that the old hair removal gag would be aired again (well, not that old given that the iMac hasn't been around too long....)
Tom did not disappoint with "I thought it had been rebranded as Veet" scrawled across my wall on Boxing Day night, closely followed with a volley exchange of quick-fire gags which ended with a legend shot from me.
I think I must have offended TomBob with that one because I haven't heard from him since.
Come back Tom; it's usually me who spits her dummy out ;-)
So, Christmas is all but over in the house of Debsy, save for a turkey lunch with all the trimmings at my parents' house today in honour of my boy who returned to the fold on Saturday.
To be fair the festive season has this year been rather entertaining, very philosophical and not quite so laden with food and drink as is the norm. Entertaining in that there were some very interesting (and a few eye-opening) texts from around the globe, philosophical in that I had to prepare for the internal investigation on my recent handling of a certain situation that I knew would start around now, but hey, at least I don't have to go on a diet this year.
My lovely Mum and Auntie spoiled me with some gorgeously fab pressies, and my wonderful Dad rode in on his white charger (metaphorically speaking) and offered to put up the money I needed to buy the new iMac and all-singing Adobe software I have been yearning for with my whole being.
I had actually espied a MacPro recently acquired by a friend of mine at his abode and I am ashamed to say I think I actually dribbled. Further to a rather half-baked pathetic attempt to persuade him to part company and upgrade, I conceded defeat and accepted that his thing of beauty was not destined for my grasp, hence the Christmas Day conversation with my papa. I do, however, think that once the threat of abduction is gone with the purchase of a Debsy iMac, I could nip in there like a ninja and be off with his goods in an instant. Be very careful, my friend; sometimes the girl will stop at nothing to get her hands on Cinema display....that's all I will say.
So that's the hardware and software issues sorted for the next couple of years (one hopes); now I need to work on my ability to bring matters of the heart to a close in an appropriate way as they head towards the final scene.
Sadly I have to admit that when Mr Enough looks at his own image in the mirror and says "yep, that's Enough alright", I turn into the iciest ice queen this side of the ice mountain.
I know my well-informed posse will say it was deserved and appropriate given the circumstances, but I had hoped for better from myself if I'm honest.
Everyone has their own coping mechanisms, I guess; mine is to erase all memory of a person in the hope that tomorrow I'll wake up and it won't even be a memory anymore. It's a bit childish, slightly irrational and a tad unrealistic but you know what they say about animals being at their most dangerous when they're injured. I don't think we have evolved much beyond that, especially women.
Sometimes it's just better to say nothing at all.
However, as this year draws to an end and I realise that it's unlikely I'll pen another posting before we say "bonjour" to 2009, I do need to say a this:
I am ending this year on a high; many of you have helped me, supported me and, most importantly, made me laugh like a drain this year, and for that you have a special place in my heart. I'm very privileged to call you my friends.
I wish you all lots of love, health and prosperity for the New Year that is almost upon us.
Now... go forth, and party like you just don't care ;-)
Tom did not disappoint with "I thought it had been rebranded as Veet" scrawled across my wall on Boxing Day night, closely followed with a volley exchange of quick-fire gags which ended with a legend shot from me.
I think I must have offended TomBob with that one because I haven't heard from him since.
Come back Tom; it's usually me who spits her dummy out ;-)
So, Christmas is all but over in the house of Debsy, save for a turkey lunch with all the trimmings at my parents' house today in honour of my boy who returned to the fold on Saturday.
To be fair the festive season has this year been rather entertaining, very philosophical and not quite so laden with food and drink as is the norm. Entertaining in that there were some very interesting (and a few eye-opening) texts from around the globe, philosophical in that I had to prepare for the internal investigation on my recent handling of a certain situation that I knew would start around now, but hey, at least I don't have to go on a diet this year.
My lovely Mum and Auntie spoiled me with some gorgeously fab pressies, and my wonderful Dad rode in on his white charger (metaphorically speaking) and offered to put up the money I needed to buy the new iMac and all-singing Adobe software I have been yearning for with my whole being.
I had actually espied a MacPro recently acquired by a friend of mine at his abode and I am ashamed to say I think I actually dribbled. Further to a rather half-baked pathetic attempt to persuade him to part company and upgrade, I conceded defeat and accepted that his thing of beauty was not destined for my grasp, hence the Christmas Day conversation with my papa. I do, however, think that once the threat of abduction is gone with the purchase of a Debsy iMac, I could nip in there like a ninja and be off with his goods in an instant. Be very careful, my friend; sometimes the girl will stop at nothing to get her hands on Cinema display....that's all I will say.
So that's the hardware and software issues sorted for the next couple of years (one hopes); now I need to work on my ability to bring matters of the heart to a close in an appropriate way as they head towards the final scene.
Sadly I have to admit that when Mr Enough looks at his own image in the mirror and says "yep, that's Enough alright", I turn into the iciest ice queen this side of the ice mountain.
I know my well-informed posse will say it was deserved and appropriate given the circumstances, but I had hoped for better from myself if I'm honest.
Everyone has their own coping mechanisms, I guess; mine is to erase all memory of a person in the hope that tomorrow I'll wake up and it won't even be a memory anymore. It's a bit childish, slightly irrational and a tad unrealistic but you know what they say about animals being at their most dangerous when they're injured. I don't think we have evolved much beyond that, especially women.
Sometimes it's just better to say nothing at all.
However, as this year draws to an end and I realise that it's unlikely I'll pen another posting before we say "bonjour" to 2009, I do need to say a this:
I am ending this year on a high; many of you have helped me, supported me and, most importantly, made me laugh like a drain this year, and for that you have a special place in my heart. I'm very privileged to call you my friends.
I wish you all lots of love, health and prosperity for the New Year that is almost upon us.
Now... go forth, and party like you just don't care ;-)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
If you don't believe in Father Christmas, you ain't coming in....
Around two months ago now I purchased a moldavite crystal pendant after reading that, if worn regularly, it can "change your life at breakneck speed"....but in a good way, I was reassured. And I have to say that has so far held true.
Whilst I haven't exactly had to hold onto my seat, there have been a few events that have winded me, but hey, life goes on, friends come, some go, and so forth. And whilst I'm not exactly dancing a jig right now, I can see why certain movements need to take place to make way for the coming experience.
My pal Ullie says you should expect nothing from the people who come into your life, and I would say that is the best approach I've heard in a long time. It does, however, become a bit of a test of will when you invest months of effort and hope in certain relationships and they still go poof! in front of your eyes..... but I can see where she is coming from.
I like to think the universe has big plans for me this coming year, and it has decided that, owing to my total ineptitude and inability to clear my decks of complicated issue-related stuff and messy bits and pieces, it will do it for me.
POOF! it's all clear now. Bring on 2009.
I am, of course, talking about the universe dressed in seasonal Father Christmas garb, and shouting "ho! ho! ho! little Debsylee!! Have you been a good girl?? Of course you haven't....some things never change. Here's our present to you any way...you're not going to like it, but touch, feel, smell......it will grow on you, we promise..."
And to make the bitter pills easier to swallow, the universe sends great stuff to me to make me laugh, like this morning on my local radio station... A chap is interviewing stone masons who work at Lincoln Cathedral (aforementioned great building of outstanding beauty and imposing magnificence).
He continues his interview..."so, Fred Smith, you started work here as a stone mason three years ago after finishing college. Is working at Lincoln Cathedral a bit like playing for Man U?"
Sorry???
Now, I get where he was going with that question, but can you think of any job that is less like playing for Manchester United than being a stone mason at Lincoln Cathedral?
I am loving the local radio stations around here, I have to tell you.
So the moldavite seems to be doing it's thang. And with a bit of universally-applied comedic stuff, I seem equipped to slay the odd dragon of life's challenges.
The piece de resistance this Christmas has to be the fact that my boy is at that peak of excited anticipation that this time of year brings, totally buying into the whole magic of it and asking with unnerving regularity "is it Christmas tonight?"
And because he laps up every bit of detail, I tend to go overboard with the tales of the intricate plans that are afoot to reward him with special presents for being a good boy this year. My masterpiece is that the Red Arrows have got a very special treat in store for him.....
He has a special card to open in the morning with the Red Arrows on the front adorned by glittery snowflakes, and a message inside that reads:
"Dear Ben, we hear that you have been a very good boy for your Mummy this year, so Ben Murphy (Red 7) is flying in his Red Arrow to the North Pole to take some special presents from us to Father Christmas for you....Happy Christmas! Love from the Red Arrows xxx"
Sometimes, having a bespoke card business pays dividends, I can tell you.
I just know that tomorrow morning he is going to be overcome with excitement when he gets that card. That is what Christmas is all about. It's magic.
I need to end on another giggle-fest....Gavin and Stacey.
I never really paid too much attention to this programme, initially thinking it was another series fashioned in the same style as Two Pints of Lager et al (i.e. not my cup of Darjeeling) But it is quite different.
This trailer in no way conveys the true brilliance of the programme, but it makes me laugh every time....
Whilst I haven't exactly had to hold onto my seat, there have been a few events that have winded me, but hey, life goes on, friends come, some go, and so forth. And whilst I'm not exactly dancing a jig right now, I can see why certain movements need to take place to make way for the coming experience.
My pal Ullie says you should expect nothing from the people who come into your life, and I would say that is the best approach I've heard in a long time. It does, however, become a bit of a test of will when you invest months of effort and hope in certain relationships and they still go poof! in front of your eyes..... but I can see where she is coming from.
I like to think the universe has big plans for me this coming year, and it has decided that, owing to my total ineptitude and inability to clear my decks of complicated issue-related stuff and messy bits and pieces, it will do it for me.
POOF! it's all clear now. Bring on 2009.
I am, of course, talking about the universe dressed in seasonal Father Christmas garb, and shouting "ho! ho! ho! little Debsylee!! Have you been a good girl?? Of course you haven't....some things never change. Here's our present to you any way...you're not going to like it, but touch, feel, smell......it will grow on you, we promise..."
And to make the bitter pills easier to swallow, the universe sends great stuff to me to make me laugh, like this morning on my local radio station... A chap is interviewing stone masons who work at Lincoln Cathedral (aforementioned great building of outstanding beauty and imposing magnificence).
He continues his interview..."so, Fred Smith, you started work here as a stone mason three years ago after finishing college. Is working at Lincoln Cathedral a bit like playing for Man U?"
Sorry???
Now, I get where he was going with that question, but can you think of any job that is less like playing for Manchester United than being a stone mason at Lincoln Cathedral?
I am loving the local radio stations around here, I have to tell you.
So the moldavite seems to be doing it's thang. And with a bit of universally-applied comedic stuff, I seem equipped to slay the odd dragon of life's challenges.
The piece de resistance this Christmas has to be the fact that my boy is at that peak of excited anticipation that this time of year brings, totally buying into the whole magic of it and asking with unnerving regularity "is it Christmas tonight?"
And because he laps up every bit of detail, I tend to go overboard with the tales of the intricate plans that are afoot to reward him with special presents for being a good boy this year. My masterpiece is that the Red Arrows have got a very special treat in store for him.....
He has a special card to open in the morning with the Red Arrows on the front adorned by glittery snowflakes, and a message inside that reads:
"Dear Ben, we hear that you have been a very good boy for your Mummy this year, so Ben Murphy (Red 7) is flying in his Red Arrow to the North Pole to take some special presents from us to Father Christmas for you....Happy Christmas! Love from the Red Arrows xxx"
Sometimes, having a bespoke card business pays dividends, I can tell you.
I just know that tomorrow morning he is going to be overcome with excitement when he gets that card. That is what Christmas is all about. It's magic.
I need to end on another giggle-fest....Gavin and Stacey.
I never really paid too much attention to this programme, initially thinking it was another series fashioned in the same style as Two Pints of Lager et al (i.e. not my cup of Darjeeling) But it is quite different.
This trailer in no way conveys the true brilliance of the programme, but it makes me laugh every time....
Friday, December 19, 2008
2009......the year of living dangerously
As Christmas approaches I am filled with an overwhelming desire to get the thing over with; fast forward to New Years Eve, do the "rah rah" thing and just get stuck straight into 2009.
I normally love Christmas, but this year my cracker has lost it's snap. My Ben won't be with me until 27th December. I relinquish him to his father on Christmas Eve, at which point I intend to crank the heating up, put my shorts on and pretend it's the height of summer. Pimms, anyone?
The most obvious part of being a parent is that you have to be responsible, to do the right thing and to be an example to your child. But this year I have realised the following:
* The one song guaranteed to get me dancing after a few drinks is Mr Loverman by Shabba Ranks,
* You should only watch the news these days if you are on some form of medication,
* A second cup of tea never tastes as good as the first...
* If you get a bad feeling about someone there will be a good reason for it,
* Always acknowledge and pay homage to your inner child; otherwise she will go crazy, do something stupid and get you into deep doo-dah,
* When people speak to you in an undeserved disdainful tone, delete them with lightening speed from your contacts, phone and your life in general,
* Robbie should rejoin Take That.......how great would that be? Seriously... fantastic.
None of these things are particularly logical or responsible, but neither is taking out a mortgage or buying a new car........when it was possible to do those things, that is.
I have made some huge life changes in 2008, but they have all been safe changes. As a result, I am now in "safe mode"......which I have to say is not Debsylee in the slightest. I am boxed in with nowhere to run, or so it seems. I never liked having to run my PC in safe mode, so running my life in a similar manner is not exactly setting me on fire.
So 2009 is the year to mix it up a bit and take it to the edge more often.
It's time to calculate the risk of living dangerously, against the risk of doing nothing.
Sadly I never met Friedrich Nietzsche, given that he died in 1900 and was a famous German philosopher, but all that time ago he was effusing...
Believe me! The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live dangerously....
You've convinced me, Herr Nietzsche.
I normally love Christmas, but this year my cracker has lost it's snap. My Ben won't be with me until 27th December. I relinquish him to his father on Christmas Eve, at which point I intend to crank the heating up, put my shorts on and pretend it's the height of summer. Pimms, anyone?
The most obvious part of being a parent is that you have to be responsible, to do the right thing and to be an example to your child. But this year I have realised the following:
* The one song guaranteed to get me dancing after a few drinks is Mr Loverman by Shabba Ranks,
* You should only watch the news these days if you are on some form of medication,
* A second cup of tea never tastes as good as the first...
* If you get a bad feeling about someone there will be a good reason for it,
* Always acknowledge and pay homage to your inner child; otherwise she will go crazy, do something stupid and get you into deep doo-dah,
* When people speak to you in an undeserved disdainful tone, delete them with lightening speed from your contacts, phone and your life in general,
* Robbie should rejoin Take That.......how great would that be? Seriously... fantastic.
None of these things are particularly logical or responsible, but neither is taking out a mortgage or buying a new car........when it was possible to do those things, that is.
I have made some huge life changes in 2008, but they have all been safe changes. As a result, I am now in "safe mode"......which I have to say is not Debsylee in the slightest. I am boxed in with nowhere to run, or so it seems. I never liked having to run my PC in safe mode, so running my life in a similar manner is not exactly setting me on fire.
So 2009 is the year to mix it up a bit and take it to the edge more often.
It's time to calculate the risk of living dangerously, against the risk of doing nothing.
Sadly I never met Friedrich Nietzsche, given that he died in 1900 and was a famous German philosopher, but all that time ago he was effusing...
Believe me! The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live dangerously....
You've convinced me, Herr Nietzsche.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Lightning strikes......maybe once, maybe twice.
I'm very fortunate that my life has been filled with people and experiences that, in the main, I have loved, enjoyed and am very grateful for. Some admittedly I could have done without, but hey, how can you appreciate the really good stuff unless there's a bit of cack in there too?
But I think that without music, my appreciation of life would have fallen short of it's eventual mark. I don't have a collection of music, I have a wardrobe, and every morning I select what best fits my mood du jour. Often when I go out in my car I curse the fact that I haven't brought a few particular CDs with me and am still listening to the same ones that I placed in the player some six months ago. It's like going on a fortnights holiday and only remembering to take two pairs of shoes. Unthinkable.
Those of you who have a similar penchant and attachment to music will know how this feels; it can be more effective than any other mood enhancer I know of (not that I am that knowledgeable on the subject of mood enhancers, save for alcohol.....of which I have still not imbibed some three days later after my last excursion to the edge and back).
And so today I got to thinking.....what song would I chose to define my life?
I love conundrums like this; it's like desert island discs but you only get to pick one..... The pressure of it is immense.
My song found it's way again on to my airwaves today, over and over. That's a very annoying feature of mine; I will play a particular favourite song over and over and over.....the repeat button gets well used chez debsylee.
Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac.
So I'm back, to the velvet underground
Back to the floor, that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was...
There is a part of me that is a bit boho. People often don't believe me on that, but seriously, if long flowing skirts had suited me better than pencil skirts, I would have given Kate Bush a run for her money.
Fleetwood Mac always, always, always puts me in a good mood, particularly this track. It is the ultimate free spirit song; tales of flying into life's experience and taking your leave when you need to....
And it all comes down to you
Well, you know that it does
Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
Ah, and it lights up the night
And you see your gypsy....
You see I've decided that it's only good to remain a part of people's lives if you're enhancing them; once you stop doing that it's time to fly off. If you light up their night, then you stick around and ignite a few more torches.
It all sounds very transitory, but really it isn't at all. Some nights can last a whole lifetime if you both want them to.
Lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
And it all comes down to you...
Everybody thinks Dreams was their best track, but if you're not familiar with Gypsy, give this a whirl.........magical. Stevie Nicks at her best.
But I think that without music, my appreciation of life would have fallen short of it's eventual mark. I don't have a collection of music, I have a wardrobe, and every morning I select what best fits my mood du jour. Often when I go out in my car I curse the fact that I haven't brought a few particular CDs with me and am still listening to the same ones that I placed in the player some six months ago. It's like going on a fortnights holiday and only remembering to take two pairs of shoes. Unthinkable.
Those of you who have a similar penchant and attachment to music will know how this feels; it can be more effective than any other mood enhancer I know of (not that I am that knowledgeable on the subject of mood enhancers, save for alcohol.....of which I have still not imbibed some three days later after my last excursion to the edge and back).
And so today I got to thinking.....what song would I chose to define my life?
I love conundrums like this; it's like desert island discs but you only get to pick one..... The pressure of it is immense.
My song found it's way again on to my airwaves today, over and over. That's a very annoying feature of mine; I will play a particular favourite song over and over and over.....the repeat button gets well used chez debsylee.
Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac.
So I'm back, to the velvet underground
Back to the floor, that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was...
There is a part of me that is a bit boho. People often don't believe me on that, but seriously, if long flowing skirts had suited me better than pencil skirts, I would have given Kate Bush a run for her money.
Fleetwood Mac always, always, always puts me in a good mood, particularly this track. It is the ultimate free spirit song; tales of flying into life's experience and taking your leave when you need to....
And it all comes down to you
Well, you know that it does
Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
Ah, and it lights up the night
And you see your gypsy....
You see I've decided that it's only good to remain a part of people's lives if you're enhancing them; once you stop doing that it's time to fly off. If you light up their night, then you stick around and ignite a few more torches.
It all sounds very transitory, but really it isn't at all. Some nights can last a whole lifetime if you both want them to.
Lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
And it all comes down to you...
Everybody thinks Dreams was their best track, but if you're not familiar with Gypsy, give this a whirl.........magical. Stevie Nicks at her best.
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