I have always been a bookworm. I think I could read before I went to school and now own far more books than is decent. As I've always had such admiration for writers I've long harboured a fantasy to be one. I'll admit that this blog is a training ground for me to practice my skills, build my confidence and generally get into the habit of writing regularly.
It's one thing to write a blog though, on a web space that you yourself have created. This blog doesn't have a counter on it so I can't even tell if anyone's actually reading it. In fact, now I'm thinking about it, this sort of writing is quite self-indulgent and egotistical. No-one asked me to write this, and no-one can stop me. Unless I break the law in some hideous literary fashion.
Convincing someone to print your work, however, demonstrates a certain level of ability at engaging the reader. And being asked, or even better, commissioned, to write for a publication is something of an achievement.
So, you might imagine I was pretty pleased to be asked to write a piece for a healthcare journal. Well, the charity I work for was asked and I volunteered myself for the job. But since I'm the only full time employee there was a degree of inevitability to it. As you may know, or recall from previous posts, the charity I work for supports people who've had stoma surgery. People like me. Except these days I don't need support, I'm the one doing the supporting. The piece we were asked to write was to focus on ways of dealing with stoma surgery positively. I loved this brief and took to the task with relish. Luckily the editors liked what I wrote and printed it. And gave me an honorarium for doing it (which I, of course, donated back to Ostomy Lifestyle).
You may well be curious to read this piece now....well, thanks to the interweb, you can. http://issuu.com/chartermagazine/docs/_1869046 (pgs 5 & 6)
Enjoy! (And I'd love to know what you think....help this writer grow!)
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Saturday, 10 July 2010
#31 Host a Party
You may be aware that I had an important birthday not long ago. I felt that turning 30 definitely warranted a proper celebration being organised. I'm an organiser. It's just something I do. I organise things. I organised a cleaning rota for me and my siblings to help Mum out when I was younger. I organised a Coast-to-Coast charity bike ride with 9 riders that raised over £4500. I organise the husband. Full stop. So, I certainly felt qualified to organise a party. I even managed to knock up some invites....
Not just any party though. A whole weekend long series of shenanigans.
I grew up in the West country, went to university in Cardiff (with people from all over the place) and am now living in Hampshire. The net result of this is that my friends are scattered to the 4 winds. I decided the best way round this would be to hire a large farmhouse in Somerset which was roughly equidistant for everyone on the guestlist. Here it is. Nice isn't it?
And it had a hot tub...
13 of us gathered on the Friday evening and played a board game I'd invented and the husband had brought to life with some natty artwork:
The board game is described in more detail in Thing to Do #45 Invent a New Game. So, I won't say any more about it here. Suffice to say it was a hoot.
But the main event was the H-Party on Saturday night. Yes, all the guests were asked to dress as something beginning with H....
We had (in no particular order) - Helen of Troy (that was me that was), Holly Golighty (from Breakfast at Tiffanys), Hoff (as in, The Hoff, as in David Hasselhoff, as in him with the hairy chest from Baywatch), Harold Shipman (yup, as in the mass murderer), several Hawaiian lovelies, a hooker, a hare, Henry hoover,a highwayman, a hangman, a hostess (as in air), a hippy, a hiker, not one but two horses (of the inflatable variety, that's right, inflatable), the list just goes on and on....
I made pots of chilli, people drank lots of boozes and a riotous time was had by all. The book asks what games we played. It's a kids book so....we didn't get round to playing any of the games they suggest...next time maybe.
People drifted to bed (or at least sleep, I'm sure at least 2 people passed out in inappropriate places) well into the wee hours. You don't need me to tell me how the Sun was passed do you? Well, just in case, rather a crowd of us went to the pub for Sunday lunch. Could have seen that one coming eh?!
Not just any party though. A whole weekend long series of shenanigans.
I grew up in the West country, went to university in Cardiff (with people from all over the place) and am now living in Hampshire. The net result of this is that my friends are scattered to the 4 winds. I decided the best way round this would be to hire a large farmhouse in Somerset which was roughly equidistant for everyone on the guestlist. Here it is. Nice isn't it?
And it had a hot tub...
13 of us gathered on the Friday evening and played a board game I'd invented and the husband had brought to life with some natty artwork:
The board game is described in more detail in Thing to Do #45 Invent a New Game. So, I won't say any more about it here. Suffice to say it was a hoot.
But the main event was the H-Party on Saturday night. Yes, all the guests were asked to dress as something beginning with H....
We had (in no particular order) - Helen of Troy (that was me that was), Holly Golighty (from Breakfast at Tiffanys), Hoff (as in, The Hoff, as in David Hasselhoff, as in him with the hairy chest from Baywatch), Harold Shipman (yup, as in the mass murderer), several Hawaiian lovelies, a hooker, a hare, Henry hoover,a highwayman, a hangman, a hostess (as in air), a hippy, a hiker, not one but two horses (of the inflatable variety, that's right, inflatable), the list just goes on and on....
I made pots of chilli, people drank lots of boozes and a riotous time was had by all. The book asks what games we played. It's a kids book so....we didn't get round to playing any of the games they suggest...next time maybe.
People drifted to bed (or at least sleep, I'm sure at least 2 people passed out in inappropriate places) well into the wee hours. You don't need me to tell me how the Sun was passed do you? Well, just in case, rather a crowd of us went to the pub for Sunday lunch. Could have seen that one coming eh?!
Sunday, 25 April 2010
#73 Have a Sleepover
As I mentioned in thing to do #20 (Stay up all night) I went to, or hosted, a lot of sleepovers when I was a teenager. I can't really remember what we did at them. Watched videos? Ate junk food? Giggled a lot I expect, that's a staple in the teenage female behavior pattern isn't it? We probably talked about boys too. Oh, and pillow fights - probably plenty of them too.
Usually we slept in the living room of whoever's house it was. We'd bring our sleeping bags and pillows and sprawl out. Now that I'm picturing it other activities are coming to mind - ghost stories! In fact, scaring each other witless was par for the course it seems as I recall most of the films we watched were horrors. The book suggests other activities which I'm sure we never did - playing computer games for example. That would almost certainly have meant prising games consoles away from our brothers, which would have been nigh on impossible. We didn't do makeovers either, that I can recall. There was usually someone who wanted to be sensible and go to sleep early and then there'd be the one who wanted to stay up all night - I know that was me on at least one occasion. Do teenage girls still do sleepovers I wonder? Have teenage boys ever done them? God, I think we even used to sit and read?! I was part of a peculiarly bookish group of friends. I think sleepovers might have functioned as a sort of book swapping club. And when I say books I largely mean 'Sweet Valley High' books. Good, all American stories about twins Elizabeth and Jessica who were good looking, blonde, popular, smart and had boyfriends who were quarterbacks. I'm sure I never knew what a quarterback was. Even now I'm not sure... God, do girls still read these books? There's bound to be a new trend now - probably something involving vampires. Please let it be something more literary and less stereotypical than Sweet Valley High. Not that it did us any harm, I still went on to get a degree in English Literature after all.
Yes, I've found a photo that proves we read books and were generally sedate and mature at our sleepovers:
Anyway - sleepovers - good clean fun. Long may they reign.
Usually we slept in the living room of whoever's house it was. We'd bring our sleeping bags and pillows and sprawl out. Now that I'm picturing it other activities are coming to mind - ghost stories! In fact, scaring each other witless was par for the course it seems as I recall most of the films we watched were horrors. The book suggests other activities which I'm sure we never did - playing computer games for example. That would almost certainly have meant prising games consoles away from our brothers, which would have been nigh on impossible. We didn't do makeovers either, that I can recall. There was usually someone who wanted to be sensible and go to sleep early and then there'd be the one who wanted to stay up all night - I know that was me on at least one occasion. Do teenage girls still do sleepovers I wonder? Have teenage boys ever done them? God, I think we even used to sit and read?! I was part of a peculiarly bookish group of friends. I think sleepovers might have functioned as a sort of book swapping club. And when I say books I largely mean 'Sweet Valley High' books. Good, all American stories about twins Elizabeth and Jessica who were good looking, blonde, popular, smart and had boyfriends who were quarterbacks. I'm sure I never knew what a quarterback was. Even now I'm not sure... God, do girls still read these books? There's bound to be a new trend now - probably something involving vampires. Please let it be something more literary and less stereotypical than Sweet Valley High. Not that it did us any harm, I still went on to get a degree in English Literature after all.
Yes, I've found a photo that proves we read books and were generally sedate and mature at our sleepovers:
Anyway - sleepovers - good clean fun. Long may they reign.
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
#42 April Fool Someone
I had thought that I wouldn't get to do an April Fool as my 30th birthday falls 2 days before 1st April. As it turned out I still didn't really manage it as I was so unwell on the day. I picked up a gastro virus from somewhere which would have been unpleasant enough but as I lack a colonic buffer zone (see #15 Fart & Burp) the bug caused me to lose very large amounts of fluid in a very short space of time. This made me feel most peculiar so April Fools were the last thing on my mind.
I eventually remembered what day it was when the husband got in from work. In a vain bid to salvage the day and meet my challenge I told him he had a boogie hanging from his nose. He was fooled enough to wipe said nose but scoffed at me when I gleefully informed him of my hoax. Apparently it doesn't count if you play a prank after midday?! In fact, in that case the fool is on you....oh no.
I've never really liked April Fools, or Halloween for that matter. Why do people suddenly feel justified in being complete rotters just because the calendar shows a particular date?
"Why have you thrown eggs and flour all over my windows?"
"It's Halloween!"
"Oh yes, of course, how stupid of me. Ha ha! What larks! Do carry on!"
As if.
I'm clearly too old and boring to carry this on off, although I can't say I remember playing many April Fools when I was young and funfilled either. Maybe it's more a matter of being too darn nice.
I eventually remembered what day it was when the husband got in from work. In a vain bid to salvage the day and meet my challenge I told him he had a boogie hanging from his nose. He was fooled enough to wipe said nose but scoffed at me when I gleefully informed him of my hoax. Apparently it doesn't count if you play a prank after midday?! In fact, in that case the fool is on you....oh no.
I've never really liked April Fools, or Halloween for that matter. Why do people suddenly feel justified in being complete rotters just because the calendar shows a particular date?
"Why have you thrown eggs and flour all over my windows?"
"It's Halloween!"
"Oh yes, of course, how stupid of me. Ha ha! What larks! Do carry on!"
As if.
I'm clearly too old and boring to carry this on off, although I can't say I remember playing many April Fools when I was young and funfilled either. Maybe it's more a matter of being too darn nice.
Monday, 5 April 2010
30 on the 30th?.....
So, the observant amongst you will realise that my 30th birthday has been and gone and I categorically failed to achieve my 101 things to do. I knew that this would happen and came to terms with it a few weeks back. Disappointing as it was, I decided not to be overcome but to take positive action. I made an active decision that I would continue the challenge, despite the impending birthday, and plans are afoot to make sure I do!
Many things got in the way of completing the challenge, my actual birthday being one of them. I organised a mammoth celebratory weekend with friends and the time involved in this basically ate into my 'things to do' time. I had planned to get straight back on the horse after my birthday but then I caught a gastro virus which laid me up in hospital for the entire bank holiday weekend with severe dehydration and kidney niggles. Excuses all, I know, but that's the crux of it. Now it's back to business and, by hook or by crook, I will tick each and every last thing off my list. So, prepare yourselves, it's not over yet....
And yes, thank you - I had a lovely birthday and I'm very happy and proud to be 30. And you'll get to read all about that weekend long celebration in an upcoming post, oooooooh!
Many things got in the way of completing the challenge, my actual birthday being one of them. I organised a mammoth celebratory weekend with friends and the time involved in this basically ate into my 'things to do' time. I had planned to get straight back on the horse after my birthday but then I caught a gastro virus which laid me up in hospital for the entire bank holiday weekend with severe dehydration and kidney niggles. Excuses all, I know, but that's the crux of it. Now it's back to business and, by hook or by crook, I will tick each and every last thing off my list. So, prepare yourselves, it's not over yet....
And yes, thank you - I had a lovely birthday and I'm very happy and proud to be 30. And you'll get to read all about that weekend long celebration in an upcoming post, oooooooh!
Sunday, 21 March 2010
#11 Get Your School Involved in a World Record Attempt
Since I'm not actually at school anymore I figured the way to complete this challenge would be either to attempt to break a record by myself or get involved in one that someone else is organising. I had a quick look at the Guinness World Records website and found surprisingly little of interest and quickly realised that trying to break a record by myself could be really hard. I'm just not that good at anything...
I missed a perfect opportunity a month or so back when the BBC were attempting a tree planting record breaker. It would been really easy and ticked off 2 things to do in 1 go (as another of my things to do is to plant a tree) but I was working the day it was happening so it wasn't a go-er. So, imagine my delight when I saw an advert on TV for the Sport Relief Hoopathon! Hula Hoops (they of potato snack and Caz's ultimate hangover cure fame) were going for the world record by getting 1000 people hula hooping simultaneously for 2 minutes. I thought that sounded fairly straightforward and maybe a bit of fun too. I signed myself and my sis up for it and went and bought myself a sparkly hula hoop from a local toy shop. I was utterly dismayed when I got home and discovered that my childhood ability to hoop had abandoned me completely. I watched youtube videos and still couldn't master it. I took the hoop to my sister's and she experienced an equal lack of success. Uh-oh.
Time went by and each time I tried it again the results were the same..... The day of the Hoopathon dawned. Things didn't start well. I set off for Bristol, on the wrong motorway. Don't ask me how. Had to do a cross country mission from the M3 up to Reading to join the M4, which I should have been on to start with. Duh. So, that made me late. We were told to be at the Hoopathon at 11am to register and warm up etc for the record attempt at 12noon. I didn't even get to Becky's until 11.10am. Then we couldn't find anywhere to park. And ended up parking miles away and getting there really late. But, at this stage we weren't actually that worried. We were totally convinced we couldn't hula so it'd just be a wheeze to show ourselves up. However, things were about to change. We signed in and collected our hoops and immediately realised that the hoop we'd been using was seriously undersized.
We set ourselves up in the midst of lots of supple people hooping effortlessly and thought - 'what the heck, let's give it a go anyway'. My word. What a surprise to discover that, with the right sized hoops, we could actually do it! They did a mock 2 minute hoopathon and Becky was delighted to complete it without letting the hoop drop. Mine went down at the 1 minute mark but I was starting to feel just a little bit confident that I might be able to do it. Getting into a good rhythm is key so we got ourselves going 10 seconds before the 2 minutes started. I found a tuft of grass to focus on and timed my hooping to match the beat of the music they were playing. I didn't dare look up. If I'd caught Becky's eye it could all have gone wrong, in shape of much giggling. We were both going strong at the 1 minute mark. I told myself not to get cocky, just stay in the zone and think positive. 30 seconds to go....both still hooping like good 'uns. I had churned the grass beneath me up a bit during the warm up and I felt my foot slip. Argh! What to do? Move my foot back and risk further slippage? No, I just refocused on the new stance and kept going. Phew, close one. But then - disaster! At 15 seconds I noticed Becky's hoop drop. I saw it slip down towards her knees and then on beyond the point of recovery. I wanted to console her but only had a few seconds left. I knew she'd want me to carry on so I sucked it up, dug deep and hooped like never before. I had to concentrate hard during the 10 second countdown lest the excitement get the better of me and cause me to blunder. Victory! Flipping nora - I only went and broke a world record didn't I?! Well, not just me obviously but still. Poor Becky. So disappointed. I could tell she wanted to be pleased for me but really was just gutted she hadn't managed it. I feel it was just bad luck as she was easily capable but got distracted right at the crucial moment and let it slip away. Those of us who were successful signed the record logbook and went home feeling mighty proud. Sorry Becks, but it is a good feeling!
And, just in case you're not convinced, here's me warming up!
I missed a perfect opportunity a month or so back when the BBC were attempting a tree planting record breaker. It would been really easy and ticked off 2 things to do in 1 go (as another of my things to do is to plant a tree) but I was working the day it was happening so it wasn't a go-er. So, imagine my delight when I saw an advert on TV for the Sport Relief Hoopathon! Hula Hoops (they of potato snack and Caz's ultimate hangover cure fame) were going for the world record by getting 1000 people hula hooping simultaneously for 2 minutes. I thought that sounded fairly straightforward and maybe a bit of fun too. I signed myself and my sis up for it and went and bought myself a sparkly hula hoop from a local toy shop. I was utterly dismayed when I got home and discovered that my childhood ability to hoop had abandoned me completely. I watched youtube videos and still couldn't master it. I took the hoop to my sister's and she experienced an equal lack of success. Uh-oh.
Time went by and each time I tried it again the results were the same..... The day of the Hoopathon dawned. Things didn't start well. I set off for Bristol, on the wrong motorway. Don't ask me how. Had to do a cross country mission from the M3 up to Reading to join the M4, which I should have been on to start with. Duh. So, that made me late. We were told to be at the Hoopathon at 11am to register and warm up etc for the record attempt at 12noon. I didn't even get to Becky's until 11.10am. Then we couldn't find anywhere to park. And ended up parking miles away and getting there really late. But, at this stage we weren't actually that worried. We were totally convinced we couldn't hula so it'd just be a wheeze to show ourselves up. However, things were about to change. We signed in and collected our hoops and immediately realised that the hoop we'd been using was seriously undersized.
We set ourselves up in the midst of lots of supple people hooping effortlessly and thought - 'what the heck, let's give it a go anyway'. My word. What a surprise to discover that, with the right sized hoops, we could actually do it! They did a mock 2 minute hoopathon and Becky was delighted to complete it without letting the hoop drop. Mine went down at the 1 minute mark but I was starting to feel just a little bit confident that I might be able to do it. Getting into a good rhythm is key so we got ourselves going 10 seconds before the 2 minutes started. I found a tuft of grass to focus on and timed my hooping to match the beat of the music they were playing. I didn't dare look up. If I'd caught Becky's eye it could all have gone wrong, in shape of much giggling. We were both going strong at the 1 minute mark. I told myself not to get cocky, just stay in the zone and think positive. 30 seconds to go....both still hooping like good 'uns. I had churned the grass beneath me up a bit during the warm up and I felt my foot slip. Argh! What to do? Move my foot back and risk further slippage? No, I just refocused on the new stance and kept going. Phew, close one. But then - disaster! At 15 seconds I noticed Becky's hoop drop. I saw it slip down towards her knees and then on beyond the point of recovery. I wanted to console her but only had a few seconds left. I knew she'd want me to carry on so I sucked it up, dug deep and hooped like never before. I had to concentrate hard during the 10 second countdown lest the excitement get the better of me and cause me to blunder. Victory! Flipping nora - I only went and broke a world record didn't I?! Well, not just me obviously but still. Poor Becky. So disappointed. I could tell she wanted to be pleased for me but really was just gutted she hadn't managed it. I feel it was just bad luck as she was easily capable but got distracted right at the crucial moment and let it slip away. Those of us who were successful signed the record logbook and went home feeling mighty proud. Sorry Becks, but it is a good feeling!
And, just in case you're not convinced, here's me warming up!
Thursday, 18 March 2010
#5 Learn How to Ask Someone Out (and How to Dump Them)
It's not a secret that I made the first move towards the husband and me getting together. It happened in a night club in Cardiff. I had just moved there to start my degree at the university and was investigating the local facilities with my friend Jenna (who you've heard me mention before). We were meant to be meeting another friend in a club called Zeus (I know, cheesy or what?) but she didn't turn up so we were left to try and salvage something of the night. A hilarious misunderstanding ensued wherein I thought Jen fancied 'the guy in the blue shirt'. So we shimmied our way over in that general direction so she could dazzle him with her moves. Since she seemed to be taking her time getting around to it I amused myself eyeing up his mate. I remarked to Jen 'that guy with the blonde hair is a bit of alright' which left her very confused since what she apparently said to me was in fact 'what about you and that guy with the blonde hair?' Oh, the topsy turvey world of nightclub miscommunication!
Anyway, I struck up conversation with 'the guy with blonde hair' and, being a forward sort of hussy, extracted his phone number from him. I had a moment or two of dilemma the next day trying to decide whether to call him or not, but, encouraged by my friends (Jen again...) I made the call. From that point on the poor bloke had no chance. A 2nd date was arranged and the rest, as they say, is history - more than 11 years of it in fact.
So, part 1 of this thing accomplished. Since I'm not keen to dump the husband (he's splendid) I'm going to have to drag up truly ancient history and recount a slice of my romantic past. I have only ever had to 'dump' one boyfriend. That doesn't mean I was dumped by the others, it was more like, we parted on mutually agreed terms. I went out with Gareth when I was 17 and he was really very sweet. Unfortunately he lived on the opposite side of the county and we only saw each other at college. Neither of us did anything mean to the other but at some point I decided it wasn't going anywhere (although I'm not sure where a 17yr old ever thinks a relationship is going) so I finished with him. I don't think I was particularly unkind in my breaking up. I did it face to face and we remained friends and if I were to see him now I'm confident we'd be pleased to see each other and have kind words to exchange. And I think that counts as a success as far as 'dumpings' go, don't you? And Gareth, if you're reading this - Hi! Hope you're keeping well! Be nice to see you next time I'm down.
Anyway, I struck up conversation with 'the guy with blonde hair' and, being a forward sort of hussy, extracted his phone number from him. I had a moment or two of dilemma the next day trying to decide whether to call him or not, but, encouraged by my friends (Jen again...) I made the call. From that point on the poor bloke had no chance. A 2nd date was arranged and the rest, as they say, is history - more than 11 years of it in fact.
So, part 1 of this thing accomplished. Since I'm not keen to dump the husband (he's splendid) I'm going to have to drag up truly ancient history and recount a slice of my romantic past. I have only ever had to 'dump' one boyfriend. That doesn't mean I was dumped by the others, it was more like, we parted on mutually agreed terms. I went out with Gareth when I was 17 and he was really very sweet. Unfortunately he lived on the opposite side of the county and we only saw each other at college. Neither of us did anything mean to the other but at some point I decided it wasn't going anywhere (although I'm not sure where a 17yr old ever thinks a relationship is going) so I finished with him. I don't think I was particularly unkind in my breaking up. I did it face to face and we remained friends and if I were to see him now I'm confident we'd be pleased to see each other and have kind words to exchange. And I think that counts as a success as far as 'dumpings' go, don't you? And Gareth, if you're reading this - Hi! Hope you're keeping well! Be nice to see you next time I'm down.
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