Tag Archives: Thoughts

Watching Girls Go By

I feel like I spend most of my summer months obsessively people watching. Watching girls to be precise. I can take or leave men in summer or any month of the year – but women in the sunshine are something else.

The best outfits come out in the Spring as we tiptoe precautiously into the warmer months and I start to think about all the sartorial possibilities. Hey, if she can rock a blue and yellow print midi skirt with a plain navy tee, then I can, right? Hot pink? Why not? Stripey shirt that looks like a pajama top and mom jeans? I’m in.

I love it, it feels like hope and happiness to me. While the sun itself is sometimes my arch nemisis (ginger, what can I say?), I do like what it brings out in other people and I love witnessing women feeling themselves. They inspire me.

And it makes me think about age again but in a more positive way. Of how I don’t think I’ll ever be middle-aged in my mindset or attitude, how even when my body is heading south and my bones ache, in my heart I’ll still be as hopeful and dreamy and dorky as I was when I was 12. There’s very little difference between the girl I was and the woman I am. Except I couldn’t have dreamt I’d have Wonder Woman tattooed on my arm.

I think about how I’ll still listen to pop music, probably the same ten songs I’ve listened to since I was a girl as I walk to work. How I’m happy to grow up but not too much – and how certain things make me feel ten feet tall: jumpsuits, red lips, my rainbow umbrella. Less material things too: kisses and inside jokes, post-orgasmic chills.

I’m in a good place here, things are blessed. Sometimes they’re hard and sometimes I’m tired but I’m always open. To new possibilities, to new people. I’m surrounded by love and good companions, new and old. Young and my age and I’m learning for them everyday. Through them and through myself I am working out who I am and how who I am is okay. Honestly, more than okay.

All this introspection comes with the sun and with watching the girls go by and maybe to me that’s the best part of Summer.

Anxiety 1, Voluptuous 0

I had a panic attack yesterday morning and had to come home from work. I lay down until it passed and then watched The Conjuring with a cup of tea and a banging headache. I’m off again today with the same headache but really it was frightening and I still feel out of sorts.

Even though I have an anxiety disorder, I very rarely have these attacks. I can remember two over the last year and they were scary bastards. This was no different – I felt like I was going to collapse and then I just felt an ominous feeling engulf me, like something really bad was about to happen. I felt like I had to flee and I couldn’t get out of the office quick enough.

Yesterday (and today) are the sunniest days we’ve had all year, everyone’s smiling and showing skin – and I’m home feeling sorry for myself. I know I’m normal but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Can’t I just live?

I feel daily as though there is a war raging inside me, one between the anxious me and the confident me. They’re such polar opposites with such vastly different attitudes and they butt heads constantly. Anxious me wants to break me with the self-doubt it sends coursing through my veins. I will never let her win but sometimes I’m not quick enough and I hear what she’s whispering – “You’re not good enough”, “Nobody likes you”, “You don’t deserve that”… oh, she’s a little cunt alright.

She’ll never get the better of me but sometimes I let her run the show, she is part of me after all. And while this is happening Confident me has a nap, posts Instagram memes and rallies against the patriarchy in her head (the patriarchy is responsible for consumerism and the unrealistic beauty ideals that keep us feeling like we’re never good enough). Confident me tries on jumpsuits and shushes Anxious me when she tells her (me) that I can’t wear that.

I’m tired and I’m feeling sorry for myself. My head hurts and I feel old and crabby. My skin needs moisture, my fringe needs a cut and everyone looks so effortless in the summer sun. I wish I was out there and I’m glad I’m indoors. I want company and I want to be left alone. Like I said, a constant battle, an eternal game of tug-of-war.



The other day someone (a dude) asked me why women are so pissed off these days. Instead of punching him in throat and screaming “Because of you motherfuckers!!”, I took a breath and told him to look around him. Predictably I didn’t finish my sentence before my piece was derailed by a #notallmen remark and I’m quite certain none of my points got through his thick skull. Doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying though.

I feel like I’m angry all the time these days. Angry I have to get a bus home after dark for fear of walking home alone, angry I can’t finish a sentence without being interrupted. Angry every time I pick up a paper or log onto Twitter and read another story about another man abusing his position. Angry for every one of the women I know who has a #metoo story.

I’m pissed about all my own experiences. For the time a man told me he could rape me if he wanted to outside Sydney bus station when I was 20. For being followed home more than once but most recently in my own sleepy hometown. For last Christmas when a stranger grabbed my arse at our works do and squeezed it really fucking hard, like it was his right.

I’m angry for all the times my nasty ex told me I was lucky he wasn’t the type to hit a woman. For all the times he told me I needed psychiatric help and my mother agreed with him (she didn’t obviously but he wanted me to believe she did, as if they were in cahoots. As if). And for the time he bullied me into going topless on the beach in Barcelona and simultaneously poisoned my memory of that beautiful city.

Most of all I’m fucking furious he made me hate and blame myself for letting it happen, and for making me question my place on this earth.

I don’t hate men but they make me angry. Of course not all fucking men but every single man has a responsibility to be better and that is a fact. They might not directly hurt women but laughing when their friend makes a Harvey Weinstein joke is part of the problem (and so much more besides). We can all be better and I know I’m not perfect either. I’ve turned a blind eye many times in the past just so I don’t come off as a rabid feminist killjoy.

No more. I will be better and so will the men in my life. I demand it.

What are you angry about today?


Preach it, Dumbledore!

A big day in the UK today and one I feel quite sick about. For anyone reading outside the UK who doesn’t keep up with our politics, we’re voting on the EU Referendum – whether to leave or remain in the European Union.

I cast my vote early this morning and I’ll admit to feeling quite overwhelmed by the whole thing (and I was all on my lonesome too, what a big brave girl). It’s such a massive decision to make about something that honestly, nobody really seems 100% about. I have a view and have voted accordingly but who can say that it’s the right way?

Who can be sure that we’re not doomed if we stay in the EU? Is breaking off to be on our own the beginning of the end or is Boris right? Only time will tell now, which way the vote will go for a start and then what will happen to this country. It’s terrifying and all I really know is that all the hatred and the sniping has got to stop.

Sure this has opened my eyes to a lot of attitudes I’m surprised by but I’m done with people bitching at each other and threatening to stop being friends on social media (the ultimate dis) for not voting the way people want them to. I can barely make this decision myself, how can I tell someone else who to vote for?

I know this post is incredibly diplomatic but I’m just tired of all the hate talk. I’ve voted remain and strongly believe we should stay, that we’re stronger in the EU and should help others where we can. I know it’s not perfect and that there’s lots of work to do to make things better but I have an innate hope that we can do that.

I can’t get behind a campaign backed so strongly by Nigel Farage either, I’m sorry. And I know that Brexit supporters are getting a bad rap for being racists, which not all of them can be but it’s true that most racists are going to vote leave. I’m not here for that.

I’m not going to say everything is shit and I don’t care anymore. I will never do that. I love the country I live in, I love the fact I can work and travel around Europe as much as I like. I love that (if things remain) I could legitimately retire to a houseboat in Amsterdam and live out the rest of my life skipping around the canals in clogs.

All I can do now is keeping on hoping that remain wins the day. Results will be in tomorrow morning, so this time tomorrow afternoon we’ll know.

I think I might puke! ❤

Sunday’s Girl

TBH I just love this image

This morning my rut took me out of the flat and walking round the park, talking to my friend Lauren on the phone for over an hour.

Honestly, following the pettiest fight in the history of all fights with the man I married, I was looking to lick my wounds in Superdrug. A basic bitch go fuck yourself to the ‘man’, you know how it goes.

A couple of lipsticks and a contour kit later and I was over my rage and ready to go home.

Time to work on the little by little life plan, huh?

Lozza, on the phone, was talking about sorting out her life and I’m there too, ready to make some minor tweaks to make life a bit more exciting.

Expect to hear more about this. Hell, I’ll take suggestions if they’re good ones, truly.

My first thing is to take myself out more. Me dates. I love that feeling of gently meandering around, processing thoughts, dreaming.

I need to get myself out more on Sundays, that’s for sure. Even if it’s just a walk in the park.

Rock N Roll

I feel like I owe my blog some sort of essay that isn’t about film, though for the life of me I can’t think which topic to pick. So a freestyle post it is. These are usually the most honest, if flawed pieces, right? This may be a bad idea.

I’m going to start with what’s most prominently on my mind: Age.

I’m in a rut. I’m 38 years old, the wrong side of 35 and when did that happen? My thirties have been my best, of course they have but they’ve shot by and now I’m here mildly fretting about the impending 40. Forty fucking years old.

I remember my mother’s 40th birthday party, which was thrown in our house by her cousin, who lived round the corner with our cousins. If you knew my mum (who I am very much like) you would be able to picture her face when she found out what was going on. I was ten and enjoying the party as ten years old do, through the milling legs of the adults, admiring tarty high heels and asking for sips of alcohol like a maniac.

How am I almost there myself?

Rather than lamenting the passing of time here though I think I’m going to draw a line under my fear, take a deep breath and move it forward. Like what do people who are nearly 40 do? Plan a party and freshen up their Bucket List? Get a drastic new haircut and take a lover? I’m down with all of the above, though the lover part sounds exhausting and/or messy. I’m pretty sure I’d prefer a weekend away to a house party too but I guess that’s down to the people who love me, they plan these things right?

Oh God.

But this rut, it has a lot to do with the turning of the tides but I guess it comes with being in any place for a long period of time, doesn’t it? I still have no clue what I want to be doing with my time. I’m neither creatively fulfilled nor rich as shit. I haven’t had kids but I also don’t have a career.

What am I expecting though? Exactly the right job for me to come knocking one morning, asking me out to play? Life doesn’t work that way and it shouldn’t either, aren’t we taught that nothing worth having comes that easy? Too right.

Okay. This is what I’m going to do. Stop beating myself about not being on the property ladder, not being one of those glossy chicks or on any sort of career path – and just be thankful for what I do have. Health, friendships and a good relationship. Booty. A job that might not be forever but that let’s me work with people I really like. An income that supports my ASOS addiction.

And I’m going to make a plan. A list of little plans even, that lead me towards a bigger plan. A life plan of epic proportions – there’s still time. 40 is only really 21 these days, innit?

I need to remember that age is more than just a number, despite what they say. It’s scary and it marks the steady flow of time getting away from us but it also represents experience and life stories, and I would never go back, not even a year, or a week. Even a day.

The other night I was talking to a friend and she said,”If I get to the end and I still have this life and the same circle of friends, even if I don’t meet anyone, I will die happy”, and I thought, that’s perfect. I want to feel that way too.

I’m going to get out there and kick rut in his arse (being weighed down by an unseen entity? It’s got to be male). I’m going to prove to myself that almost-40 is fucking fabulous, crow’s feet and all.

I might even think about this bucket list but I’m not jumping off anything high or swimming with any living thing. Thems the rules.


tumblr_nwdknt8Ldj1tic679o1_540I’ve been thinking about my blog for a while and which direction, if any to go in. I mean, is this a film blog, a (admittedly half-arsed) book blog or something that can’t be defined, aka a hodge podge of shits and gigs with no real genre definition?

I’ve arrived at the conclusion that it is most definitely the latter and I think that might be okay. I mean, I’m having a good time, I don’t know about anyone else.

That said I feel as though I should plan better and gain inspiration from all four corners of the internet (it’s a box, innit?). There is so much great stuff out there and I wanna be part of it!

Not really a part in the sense that I’m aiming towards my own waxwork or anything, it’s just there are topics close to my heart and I sometimes don’t even know where to start with them. And there are people who do it beautifully.

I don’t want to avoid talking about things that are important to me just because I don’t know where to start or because I might get tongue tied. Where’s the logic in that? I’m not talking politics or religion btw, I don’t really want to entertain those subjects online.

What a cryptic post this is. It doesn’t really have a purpose, just getting some things out onto the page for the hell of it. I guess I should reassess what my blog means to me and branch out from there.

While I do that, is there anything you’d like to see from me?

What do you enjoy/not enjoy/*heart-eyes emoji* round these parts?