In conversation with my 18 year old self

Ok, 18 year old me, I’d like you to calm down a little bit. Just…. calm down. You’re a bit crazy and all over the place. You’d do well by scaling it back a bit.

Also, I don’t want to ruin the dream but that ambition you have, to marry Michael Jackson… That’s, um, it’s not going to happen unfortunately. I won’t tell you why. The other ambition, to see him in concert, also doesn’t come true. He does plan a tour in England but, um, he doesn’t make it. Again, I won’t tell you why.

Also, your expectation that you will have a terribly meaningful and world-changing role in life… yeh, turns out you’re a bit ordinary, like everyone else. What a thought, hey?! After all that time being convinced of your own superiority and differentness.

O, and your thing about being ‘boring’, you hate that idea, right? Hate it. Urgh, imagine being boring, that would be the worst! Well, you’re not that bothered anymore. You enjoy the simple pleasures in life – cooking, being outside, growing vegetables, seeing other countries, having lunch with nice friends. Just calm down about the ‘boring’ thing. It’s going to happen. Get over it.

You know how you love going out dancing? In a few years, you won’t really ‘go out’ at all. You hate the idea of being squashed in next to a load of sweaty strangers, actually. You dislike the drunken nonsense that you talk and that other people talk to you. In fact, in about ten years, you’ll barely consume alcohol at all, a few times a year maybe. It’s better that way, trust me. We both know what we get like with a drink in us.

And you don’t wear make up at all. I know, after all that time poking your eyes out, trying to work out how to wear eye liner. No, you don’t wear anything now. You’re too lazy. Sorry to break it to you but you’d rather spent the time in the morning having a cup of tea and blogging than poking your eyes out.

Yeh, you’re a ‘blogger’ now. You’re mad for it! You’re one of those. One of those sad people who thinks others want to read about the minutae of their everyday life. Yup.

And tea is very important to you. Very. Important.

You’ll run off to Africa soon, little Laura. And it will be fabulous. You’ll be enthused. You’ll be good at something. You’ll be in your element. For the next ten years after your gap year, you’ll refer back to it as a time of excitement and adventure. Just a few words of warning though – don’t get too excited by your new friends who take you in on the first night, they’ll drift away in a few months; also, please try and eat better – a plate of rice with some sweetcorn mixed in does not constitute a real meal, unfortunately; another thing, you’re going to mess up the article for the Namibian Independence Day by sleeping through the celebrations, shame on you.

And now, last but not least, F. Scott Fitzgerald still rocks your world. That fact is unchanged throughout your life. They make a new film of The Great Gatsby with Leonardo DiCaprio. I’m going to let you watch it for yourself and make your own mind up….

A bit of world-saving and a bit of award-receiving

My instructions for yesterday went as follows:

Install solar panels for your water heating
(Going Greener by Simon Gear)

Say it with pixels – save a tree and send an electronic greeting instead.
(The Difference A Day Makes by Karen M. Jones)

The first one, unfortunately, wasn’t the best option for me. I had some rubbish news about a friend and felt rubbish so needed things I could do from the sofa, drinking a cup of tea. So, my version of installing a solar panel was getting in touch with a green energy supplier, called Good Energy, and enquiring about switching my gas and electricity to them. All their energy is local and renewable eg wave and wind power. I did the initial stages of giving them my details so that’s in motion at least.

The second challenge was easier as it is a good friend’s birthday today so I sent him a silly e-card of three pigs singing happy birthday, instead of buying an actual card. Done!

And now onto an award, presented to me by the wonderful JumeiraJames who, coincidentially, lives in an area of Dubai that I lived in when I was a baby.

The rules for this one are as follows:

1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 bloggers for this award and link to them.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award’s requirements.

Ok, here’s my seven things…

1. When I was younger, my favourite chocolate bar was Yorkie. Then they brought out that advert saying ‘Not For Girls’ so I stopped buying them. That showed them.

2. I don’t definitely know the difference between bio and non-bio washing powder.

3. I love wildebeest. I just think they’re quite majestic and beautiful.

4. Last night I stayed up quite late doing a jigsaw puzzle.

5. At age 27, I still sometimes put my shoes on the wrong feet. I did it yesterday actually.

6. Today I have a day off. I have been waking up quite early every morning for a little while. To celebrate not having to wake up early, I slept in til 10.20am and am seriously considering eating strawberry cheesecake for breakfast.

7. I don’t drink alcohol. Not to make a statement about anything. I just don’t. Herbal tea is my preferred drink of choice.

Now for my fifteen nominations. Here goes …

1. Lovefoodlovefashion – new on the blogging scene but fabulous. I can’t understand what took her so long to start!

2. The Waiting – following the adventures and photoshoots of the little one is the backdrop to my days.

3. A Londoner in Dorset – once an adventurer in far off lands, she is now exploring parts of England in her new home. Always something lovely to read here.

4. Fiammisday – beautiful clothes, beautiful shoes. Despite being childless by choice, I sometimes wish I had someone small to dress in these outfits!

5. Bagni di Lucca and Beyond – the first place I look when planning a trip to Italy (Naples in April).

6. Someone Fat Happened – what’s not to love about a farting dog accompanying your yoga session or childhood pictures which prompt laughter? All of life is here. Wedding jitters, work frustration, family life.

7. Jump For Joy Project – the perfect pick me up if feeling rubbish or wondering what to do with your life.

8. Campari and Sofa – there is tons to love in this blog (a mutual appreciation of the Tube being one of them) but I think the recent post about the treatment of women is one everyone should read.

9. Blogging For A Good Book – you can never have too many good book recommendations!

10. Our Adventures In Croatia – reading this blog gives me adventure-envy. Lots of beautiful pictures. I must travel more! The recent post on Venice bridges got me planning my next-next trip to Italy (the next one is already planned and waiting to come to fruition!).

11. Ordinary Lisa – just lovely honest writing. If ever there was a blog that encouraged me to notice and appreciate the things and people around me, this would be it.

12. British Museum Blog – loads of great stuff here. They are doing a small series of posts called London in 20 objects which is fascinating. Have a look!

13. Le Zoe Musings – now it might just be the Instagram effect but this woman’s life appears to be lived in varying shades of beautiful.

14. Live To Write – Write To Live – if I can’t think what to write about or just need some inspiration or writing advice, I don’t need to look any further than this blog.

15. Belle Grove Plantation Bed and Breakfast – I have been following this blog almost since I started blogging. The stories this plantation has to tell from the past and the present are amazing. I can’t wait to visit, which I will do one day!

Dancing in public (part 2)

Yesterday, I left London (“Urgh! Why?” I hear you all ask). I’ve come north to see the friend I did a lot of travelling with years ago. We haven’t seen each other for years so I decided it was time to make the trip. He met me at the station and there was lots of hugging and catching up. We found a lovely Italian restaurant and I had an amazing fish skewer thing which had swordfish, scallops, prawns and cherry tomatoes on them.

Unfortunately, I only remembered to take a photo once I’d already tucked in.

I finished up with a ristretto, because my ‘coffee habit’ is going ok now.

We were a bus ride from my friend’s flat so we popped into a bar first and each got a cocktail, as they don’t taste too alcoholly (I don’t like the sharp taste of most alcohol, hence being a non drinker). We then went to a ‘cool’ cafe where lots of cool kids were jiving to the Super Mario theme tune…..

On our way to the taxi rank, we passed a bar we’d come to last time I was up and decided to go in. As we entered, our feet stuck to the alcohol-covered sticky grotty floor. Immediately, I knew it was that type of place. You know. That type of place.

We ordered drinks and lingered by the bar and watched the dancers. And it was brilliant. One woman, with badly dyed frizzy blonde hair, was giving it everything, hindered only by the fact that she was in her late forties and extremely out of place.

My friend and I, with our two cocktails on our systems to prevent the usual awkwardness on the dance floor, were ready to join in slightly. We bobbed rhythmically at the side, laughed and joked, reminisced about times abroad, sang along, pointed to the overly drunk people, dancing so vigorously that they almost fell over.

After a while, my friend stopped dancing, looked at me and said, “Laura, I can’t do this anymore.” And we left.

Even though we had had something to drink and danced a little, we didn’t actually want to go tearing up the dancefloor. I’d previously thought that it was the lack of alcohol blocking me from getting into the spirit of things. But I don’t actually think that anymore. I think it’s because it’s just not what I do. It’s not part of my social activities to get drunk and dance like a maniac anymore. And that’s ok.

I think I’ll stick to dancing in the front room to the music channel.

This one’s for you, Hannah

This post was a request from a friend over the weekend. ‘O, go on,’ she said, encouraging my demise and the potential ruining of the so-far sophisticated and grown-up idea that you all obviously have of me. ‘Write about the time you drank your way through the alphabet. Go on. It’ll be great.’ As the good friend I am, I agreed. ‘I’ll do it for you, Hannah,’ I promised.

I don’t know whether I regret this now. Anyway, here goes….

Once, when I was young and foolish, something happened which probably explains why I no longer drink alcohol.

A friend and I were having a night out. I don’t know where I’d got this idea from but we had decided we were going to drink the alphabet. Essentially this means that you have a drink beginning with each letter of the alphabet and aim for Z without passing out. I think we also tried to make sure we went to places which began with the letters we needed too.

I can’t remember all of them but I remember a few where we had to really use our imagination to find a drink. I think for E, we requested our drinks be ‘extra cold’. I remember, if we couldn’t think of something for a letter, we managed to make sambuca fit for most things by prefixing it with something for the letter we were on. For example, Q was difficult so I think we ordered 2 ‘quite small sambucas’.

Anyway, as you can imagine, it very quickly descended into madness. The last place we ended up was a bar called The Walkabout, sitting on the sofas downstairs (we were safer sitting down, than on our feet) and trying to work out how to do U, V, W, X, Y and Z.

Either we decided to leave or the bar closed but at some point we were leaving. A girl was sitting on a curb, looking like she had taken a pretty bad tumble. There was an ambulance near by. I had done first aid a few years earlier and ran about saying, in what I imagined to be quite a comforting manner, “I’VE DONE A FIRST AID COURSE! I’VE DONE A FIRST AID COURSE!” I then kind of lost interest and wandered (stumbled) off.

At some point, my friend hit that stage where a large intake of alcohol causes you to slightly lose control of your limbs and did a lot of falling around, to the extent that the ambulance put her in the back to check if she had been taking drugs. She hadn’t, as I kept telling them. But given that I probably wasn’t forming my words properly, they decided not to take my word for it.

She was taken to hospital and I went along for moral support. I remember that I was really crying and going to them, “Honestly, it’s just alcohol. Honestly. She’s my friend. I know her.” Blub, blub, blub. Unusually, for a drunk person, I did know what I was talking about. But they wanted to be sure, so in we went.

The journey must have been quite bumpy and I probably made the drug-taking suspicions worse by running off and vomiting in the toilet just after we got to hospital. I obviously thought it was like a TV hospital drama and was hanging on to my friend’s hand and telling her it was going to be ok.

They wheeled two beds into one cubicle cause I think we probably cried and insisted we needed to be together and we promptly passed out.

After a few hours sleep, we both woke, covered in white hospital blankets and unsure exactly what had happened. I don’t think anything had. They must have realised that she wasn’t on drugs but just been glad that we had shut up finally and let us sleep.

Immediately, I realised I didn’t have my jacket or my phone. As we had been to so many different bars while drinking the alphabet, I had no idea which it would be in. My heart sank. I loved that jacket. I raised my head slightly and saw something by my feet. It was my jacket! Hurray! I was so utterly comfortable in the hospital bed that I didn’t want to move but I did. And that’s when I realised it.

Where was my phone?! I thought again of all the bars we had been to and which one I could have lost it in. Panic set in. I told my friend, who was also awake by this point. Feebly, she pointed to my feet where my phone lay, in full view, waiting for me to spot it.

After about ten minutes, I think a nurse came and said we could go when we wanted as they hadn’t found anything to worry about.

We called a taxi, my friend still wrapped in her hospital blanket, and went home, with all our possessions, slightly worse for the wear and minus our dignity.

And that is one of the many reasons I don’t drink.

When people ask me why I don’t drink and I say to them, “It’s just not pretty. Trust me,” they don’t believe me. Or they think I’m exaggerating. Surely everyone gets a little messy when they have a drink? Well, no. Now I’ve said it. If it gets to the point where you’re waking up in HOSPITAL after your nights out…. then maybe it’s time to stop….?

Dancing in public

Just a brief note about this important subject.

Dancing in public eg, going to a club.

Now if you’ve had a drink or two, this is no real problem. You’re loosened up, you’ve got your groove on, you seem to be able to know what the music is going to do next and follow it. All is well. People who are watching admire your sense of fun and adventure, you’re unafraid and actually quite a good dancer. You’re loving the music, the people are watching you, you’re loving being watched, your favourite song just came on … There is lots of mutual dancing appreciation going on.

The difficulties come when you’re not a drinker.

I’m not a drinker.

There is less temptation to act with such reckless abandon. You keep yawning a little, you fall back on the trusty two-step, you don’t quite know what to do with your arms. It makes for a lot of gentle knee-bobbing and unrhythmic arm-swinging.

Dancing is also different when you know the song that’s being played. You liven up a little with excitement and the dancing becomes more energetic. The arms get involved. Then the song finishes while you’re still on your high but is followed by one that everyone else but you knows. They’re singing along, throwing their hands in the air in unison, yelling “Get ready for the next bit!” and you’ve no idea what to do.

Your moment has passed, you fade to the edge of the crowd and start knee-bobbing and arm swinging again.

I used to tear up the dancefloor when I was younger and as I knee-bob, I wonder if I’ve really become so boring in my ‘old age’? And then I remember the point I made at the beginning, alcohol was always involved. I was 17, loud and highly intoxicated. I stop doubting myself whilst I two-step and just enjoy my solitary tame little dance over here in the corner.

The asparagus reader

Chat magazine has come up trumps yet again. There is an ‘asparamancer’ telling us about how she predicts the future by throwing asparagus in the air then ‘reading it when it lands.’ She talks about how she’s quite famous because she’s the only asparagus reader in the world.

Things she has predicted have all come true, she says. This edition, from late June has a prediction about Euro 2012. She’s pretty good at this asparagus thing because she accurately predicts that Germany or Holland will win…. O… Wait a minute….

The euro will also finally collapse but it won’t affect the British economy too badly. That’s a relief, because she so good at predicting things, evidenced in her Euro 2012 winner prediction, that I totally trust her on this one too.

She also does a reading for one of the Chat writers. It says there is an indication of alcohol and to cut back if overindulging. It says there is a trip planned with a friend and she will have a meaningful meeting on this trip.

A few things are wrong with this prediction. ‘Cut back if you’re drinking too much’ isn’t a prediction! It’s good medical advice. Most people drink alcohol. A lot of people who drink alcohol do so regularly. This, we are told, is bad for us, we should not drink regularly. Also, if you drink at home, it’s seen as a bit alcoholic-ish. If you have a few big nights out at the weekend, it’s a bit binge drinker-y. It’s likely that most people who drink have, at one time of other, thought that maybe they were drinking too much. So talking about overindulgence in alcohol, it’s a safe bet that a lot of people will fall under that barrier.

About planning a holiday with a friend. That’s not a prediction either, is it? It’s July. Most people with kids will have something planned for summer, that’s when most people are going on holiday. For the childless among us, they’re probably waiting for September or October to holiday, when the flights are cheaper, or maybe a bit later, to get some winter sun. Predicting that someone has a trip planned is not a special skill. It’s just a good bet. 90% of people in the UK will have a holiday planned.

Meeting someone significant on the holiday isn’t very insightful either. When you’re on holiday, everything feels exciting and exotic. Everyone you meet seems quite exciting and lovely. Because you’re on holiday, you’re looking for adventure, for new experiences and people. That’s not a prediction. It’s another likely guess.

So aside from all that stuff, how exciting is it that the lady reads asparagus and is really good at it. Honest.