Stitched Up

Hey so here's an non-secret for you all, I do cross stitch. That's right, it's not just reserved for those over 60.

You can see most of my stuff on my Instagram, (click, go see. I post cat pictures and selfies too).

It's really not the greatest hobby for someone with bad eyesight and tendonitis - double check - but in all other respects, it's pretty awesome.

It requires patience, concentration, discipline and you end up with something cool at the end which you can share with friends and family, or display in your house.

I've known how to cross stitch since I was probably around aged five, thanks to my Mum, even my city slicker sister can do it, she's just too cool. It's really easy. There's no 'proper' way of doing it so long as the front carries the same result. I have my way and I try to keep the back as neat as possible because yknow OCD and not to mention makes it easier sticking to cards, for instance.

Recently, I took it up again as a personal way to make cards for friends (Christmas wasn't exactly a rich time of year for me) ...

...and continue to do it because it gives me something to do and I like it but also, it really helps if you're having a bad day or over thinking what you said to that one person about 13 days ago... or something like that.

Living in an age where all of those could be done in seconds by a machine, it's a great way to keep something like it going. Not to mention people around the world are doing crazy cross stitching projects of all kinds - photographic style portraits of The Hobbit characters is one particular one that stands out. It's hugely impressive.

It may be time consuming but what else would I do with my time? 

Oo that's nice!

It's been so long since my last bloody blog post it's a whole new year. 

Firstly before pressing on with the real matters here's a little update as to why.

I blogged about gut feelings way back in April and hey, it turns out my gut was right. So in September things went kinda belly up however, I have learnt a bucket load and I mainly learned the importance of being nice. 

This right here is the main point. Told you it was a little update. 

Nice is a word that often gets scoffed at. Being described as nice or having nice as a personal quality isn't always deemed to be a good thing and is quite frequently said with a sneer of sarcasm and derision. 

In primary school a teacher told my class to try not to use nice as a describing word - that whole year any creative piece of writing sounds like it's written by a little pompous twerp with a ludicrous and grandiose vision on the world. She would have loved that sentence.

Is being nice really a bad thing though? Nice, the place, looks pretty fantastic. Nice biscuits are alright, bit of a marmite biscuit if I'm honest.

To me, being nice is a huge, huge deal. Nice guys finish last is just bollocks. Well, okay, maybe they will finish last but they will finish with a bunch of people urging them on, without a bad word being said about them and will leave this world with a lifetime filled with love and support and happy memories. 

Did I ever mention for a little time I was an agent's assistant? I was, it was pretty damned awesome. 

Anyway, when telling people who they could work with, a writer, for example, we would happily describe all their past achievements - who they'd worked for: 'yes they wrote for them too, small world eh?', yet the added sentence 'and you know what? they're a really lovely, genuine nice guy' often sealed the deal.

People don't want to work with or for assholes. We've all done those summer jobs that aren't great pay and always seem to have the boss from hell. 

People don't want to be friends with nasty people: 'Hey this is my friend, he's a great guitarist, complete dickhead though.'

I'd be thrilled to be described by anyone as a nice person. If that was someone's lasting impression of me then I have done something right in this world. 

It's really easy to not give a damn, comment not compliment, not smile on the bus etc and somedays it's harder than others to find something nice to say about someone and even more so yourself. Give it a try though. It's 2014, still new into the year so why not try and find something nice to say about yourself and then a friend?

Nice might be overused sometimes. It may not be said with much esteem. I like trying being nice, it's a fucking excellent quality to possess and true nice people seem to be becoming fewer and far between.

After all, when have you heard someone say 'let's have a simply superb, wonderfully blended cup of tea?'

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter

The sun has evaded us for so long, but summer is hopefully, on its way.... If nothing else, my summer holiday is on its way and therein lies the crux of this post.

Understandably, I am quite excited to go away for a week, carefree and see the giant ball of fire in the sky which has eluded British shores for the most part of this year. Even though, my pallor isn't sun-friendly, I am excited to be in the shade so, as not to reflect its rays and blind everyone.

But, like a lot of people, I'm very self-conscious and rightly so, really. I don't have an enviable figure, I'm not tall and slim. I certainly, don't have a 'beach ready' body.  I'm wobbly, a little too big and all the little things that come with this.

Oh, don't get me wrong I will still be donning a bikini and swimming in the sea. You can't stop me. I'm not that harsh on myself, that I will allow my body hang ups to stop me enjoying myself. There's more to life than my figure, and I like to have a drink... so.... I, really won't care after the first cocktail.

Going on holiday with friends and not solo, does put the hang ups under harsher inspection. These are people you know and will see again. All those little things I can normally hide under clothes will be exposed - that shit tattoo that no one is allowed to see will be making a guest appearance. My friends won't even notice, and if they do, won't care or point out anything that I'm worried about. They're lovely and good friends, who I'm sure have their own worries (not that they need to).

Sure, I could have been in the gym or running for the past few months but that is also, too daunting, and worse still when I'd have to go it alone. 

What a lot of all this stems from is fear, and being judged.

Going to the gym - terrifying. People who are already fit and running miles on treadmills whereas I'd be wheezing and sweating after 3minutes.

Going to the beach in a bikini - terrifying. People who are happy, strutting around whereas I'll be wiggling and feeling uncomfortable in less time than I would at the gym. 

Even after the initial bikini parade is over, that's only the beginning and when I think about it, the easiest part. It's the consequences of being slightly overweight which put the most fear in my heart and make my stomach do somersaults. 

This next bit, is a bit no holds barred. Slightly graphic. That was your warning. 

If you'd rather not know certain things about me, this would be the time to click off. Thanks for reading to this point. Let's continue.

For those who don't have such problems let me make a short list:

• top of the thighs that jiggle together and essentially chafe. It's disgusting and unpleasant and unavoidable (until you lose weight)
• because it's hot, just armpit area starts feeling uncomfortable - why do you do that arm?
• generally just being too hot. All the time. Drinking as much water as you are perspiring. Gross.
• stretch marks, they're always nice, they could be worse though, I guess
• cellulite, or those little pock marks that appear from frickin' nowhere, again they're always nice

Not to mention that with my skin colouring and dark hair, always having the feeling that everyone can see any hair on your legs or armpits (even though you know they can't). Oh! And having bad skin is yet another factor! Unfortunately, not so much on my face but on my back because I got all the good genes.

The list goes on and on and on....

I'm not fishing for compliments. God knows my Mum is far too willing to dish them out and claim I'm being too harsh on myself. I am a little critical but all of the above, that's facts. 

I will still put my bikini on, swim in the sea, bask in the shade, drink cocktails, enjoy myself. It'll only be until I'm there that all of my fears will be put on the side lines. They will still be there, but I'll bite the bullet and just perhaps cry in the sea, because that's already salt water. 

If nothing else, I have started to eat a little less, a little healthier and walk a little further. I'll be fighting fit for NYE. Just you see....

Phraseology Pains

Recently, I've noticed a few terms and phrases sneaking into language used by those on my tellybox or wireless and now I've noticed I can't stop.

The incriminating phrases are:

'organic process'
&
'special relationship'

The latter is mainly used to describe our fine country's relationship with the land of the free, our MPs and their senators. Is it not a little creepy? Potentially innuendo filled if said in a certain tone? When did this become the top term for a professional, political relationship between two countries anyway?

It's been battered around even more so lately with the death of Maggie Thatcher and her 'special relationship' with Reagan.

It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up but that may well be due to the often accompanying sickening picture of two slimy politicians sidling up next to one another with stretched smiles and menace in their eyes (Thatcher's & Reagan's photographs together are particularly sinister in a wax work kind of way, see below)

photo from theweek.com

The phrase 'organic process' seems to rarely be about growing vegetables or something of a similar ilk when I hear it in interviews. The main culprits are musicians so it may go a little something like this:

Interviewer: 'so how did it come about collaborating with Mr. Big Shot Indie-Producer when you're better known for your hardcore grime street lyrics?'

Interviewee: 'well, we just got a phone call and from then on it was  real organic process, from the writing to producing the song'

I'm aware that they're trying to say that it wasn't a forced collaboration between record companies in a bid to make more of money (but I'm sure this frequently happens too), it's been used way too much recently. It's a go-to term for creative types to announce that they are still in touch with their roots and the symbolism of all these words is quite evocative, I must confess.

Yet, it makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. It sounds somewhat forced and makes me question how organic it was. That is probably the cynic in side me.

When trying to find an apt picture this came up so I'm sticking with it:

photo from a Canadian research paper, sorry guys

There will be more that for unjustified reasons rile me up and perhaps over time I'll admit defeat, accept the convention and state that the special relationship occurred through an organic process...

Spilling my Guts

'Listen to your gut' - Arthur Smith/Yakult told us in their 2011 ad campaign.

I think they meant more in a health wise way but I have no knowledge on such things so rather I'm going to go with the listen-to-your-gut-instinct angle.

I like logic and reason. It serves my brain well of how to get to a to b in the easiest, quickest fashion and how to prioritise problems so I don't curl up in a ball (although sometimes I'm less successful and curling in a ball helps). It tends to solve problems rather than complicate or create them. It means that I know where the forks are in the draw without looking and saves me having to play a game of hide and seek with the cultery.

Yet, I will throw out all logic and reason, stamp on it and grind it into ashes if my gut instinct pops up saying 'you know what Carys? It may seem illogical and I can't really give you a reason why you should go against your brain but... you should' and I normally do. It's been right more times than it's been wrong. And! my brain controls my gut so it's all intertwined!

My gut instinct has led me to decide off the cuff to do everything from stretching ears to writing something, applying for postions/jobs I wouldn't usually, talking to someone and being bold about it to buying another drink (even when the brain is hazily saying to stop). That last one is an example of one of the rare occasions it hasn't entirely been correct or resulted in a good outcome.

My gut led me to leave high school and go to a college where I didn't think I knew anyone, I decided one day and gut went 'do it'. It led me to introducing myself to some of the most important people in my life, it's led me to quitting a dead-end job in the hope something might take off, it's led me to cutting the bad people out of my life. It's wonderful, it frees up the brain to allow that to help me walk without tripping (another less successful aspect of my life) and making tea - you know, the really important daily life activities.

Recently, I feel appalled that I've completely betrayed my gut (sorry, little guy). I listened to my head, saw the reasoning and followed that route even though my gut was basically freaking out, shouting and hitting it's metaphorical head against a brick wall. It's really hard explaining to people why I've been hesitant because my gut is telling me to be. Why is it telling me to be? I have not the foggiest, it simply is and won't stop telling me, every waking moment - 'oh you're watching TV? Right well, let me interrupt by saying I don't think this is the smartest idea after all' or 'hey! you! tell brain to piss off with it's reason and it being the right thing to do, bloody troublemaker' etc.

Time will tell whether I have to apologise refusely to my gut, begging for forgiveness so that it will steer me correctly in the future, promising that I will forever listen to it and be in its debt.

Somewhere in the dark recesses, I think brain is secretly hoping that gut is right too...

After all Alexander Bain said 'instinct is untaught ability'.