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Wednesday, May 03, 2017

Nearly There

I thought I might squeeze out a few words as I drink my coffee and wait for an appointment with my supervisor. How chuffed was I to realise that my last post received comments. Because, as much as I am happy to write for the sake of writing, everything I do in life is geared towards truly connecting with others. Despite my social outcast tendencies.

I was shit out of hope last week. My resources were depleted. I cried a lot. Those tears washed away a lot of sadness and frustration. They made room for some fresh hope. Just in time for the last couple of weeks of academic testing. As my mum read recently, it's not what we achieve in life but the obstacles we overcome to get there. I realised that I was carrying a lot of residual stress from my three years of crazy flatmate shenanigans. The crying helped with that. Also allowing myself to be pissed off and unhappy for a day or two. Once upon a time I believed that I could control my negative emotions but by letting go of the need for control I can allow the emotions to flow through me without getting 'stuck'. Who needs that shit poisioning their system? Absolutely, definitely not me.

My new TV show obsession is called How I Met Your Mother. It is a comedy about a bunch of 30 somethings who are caught between wanting something meaningful in life and the fear of letting go of their youth. One of the female characters hangs out with not one, but two of her ex boyfriends. She then dates her therapist who points out the incestuous dynamics of their group. You can kinda see why it interests me. But mostly, it is bubblegum for the eyes which is what I need to calm the everticking cogs of my brain.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

As I'll Ever Be

Hello little blog! Time is such strange concept at the minute. But that's not the reason for my not blogging. It's more my use of time. And lack of content. I was sick. Not with any kind of animal flu. Nor the human flu. Perhaps it was some kind of Bonsai tree strain, I don't know for sure. Between it's lurgy-ness and the stress of "being alive" I was pretty much good for nothin'. I see patterns in my life though. And it seems that each year comes new insight and easier ways to manage "being alive".

Dirt Bird has just texted me saying "Yaaay. Friend Therapy is the best! (smiley face with tongue sticking out)". And it is. Sometimes I forget that I have friends. I go through months of wondering who I am in relation to others. I'm Hannah, the weird one at work who takes her break at different times from her colleagues, and I'm Hannah, the weird one in class who gets on with everyone but is close with no-one. I'm Hannah, the girl who loves her family very much but always finds some reason why she can't attend the family functions. I'm Hannah, the girl who always complains about being lonely but feels an intense desire for 'head space' when she's around too many people. I play the social outcast. It's a role I'm familar and comfortable with even though it serves no purpose in my life.

So having time with a friend like Dirt Bird, like Mel, like Gus, that is how I make best use of my time. Because it's with these people that I can truly be myself. That I can forget about the responsibility of life and remember that I am a child of the universe and I deserve to feel free and happy. Dear God I never want to lose that feeling and this past few months I have felt the nails being hammered in my coffin by my own hands. Am I ready? As I'll ever be.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Bully For One and All

I found out recently that I'm an anarchist. I'm actually a pacifist anarchist. I have been one for many years although I didn't realise it. Perhaps because the punks kinda hijacked anarchism and my first true love was a punk complete with mohawk, ring through the septum, ripped jeans and jingly jangly chains. I much preferred him when he was a sweet little indie kid.

Mum feels more soothed now that I have identified myself with a political stance. Though it hasn't stopped her from saying "That's why you should vote..." It's different every time. She just wants me to vote. She wants me to care. I do care. I just do it in a different way. I'm still telepathically organising a revolution. It's exhausting!

To be honest, I don't know enough about anarchism to truly identify with it. It's like Buddhism, I like what I know about it but I can't claim to be Buddhist. Sure, I killed a fly last year but it haunted me in more ways than one. I do have a political stance though, or maybe it's just a stance in general. I truly believe that the natural world is our teacher, protector and leader. Humans thinking that they know better than the ground beneath their feet is just ignorance and arrogance.

I have been spending a lot of time down the woods with the dogs. I am sure that when I talk about them people may imagine a proper little forest. The truth is that the trees are teenager trees and most of my trekking through the woods involves walking half the size of myself and getting pine needles in the face. I came back the other day to discover that I'd been ravaged by some kind of woods critter. I don't mind though. There's a part of the woods where the ground is all uneven and mossy. I'm sure if I sat there long enough the fairies would come out to play. Or the swamp witch with her doo doo pigs. Gus and I have a woods song which goes "Off and off we go, through the thick of the woods, bully for you, bully for me, bully for one and all". This is sang in posh ye olde English accent and we sing it with great gusto.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Cinderella

What a difference a day makes. Last week was a wobbly one. With just a couple of months left of my course (the class side of things anyway) I was on the verge of giving up. It just so happened that a fairy godmother waved her magic wand and decided that I deserved a fighting chance of making it to the (graduation) ball. Faith was well and truly restored.

Last Sunday I watched a 15 minute old calf bullock being licked tenderly by it's mother. She was, of course, licking all the goop off it because there tends to be a lot of goop when a cow gives birth. It was still magical and beautiful. The girls decided that the calf should be named Little Gus. Big Gus says he can never go to market. Unfortunately, Big Gus doesn't have much authority when it comes to the fate of calves. What is more likely to happen is Little Gus will go to market and we'll write a very sad blues song about it.

It feels a wee bit like spring and it would be a mortal sin not to don some wellies and take the dogs for a walk. Might do me some good as well being amongst the trees. Every day I say I must do some coursework. Every day I find something else to do, like go for coffee with a friend or, y'know, sit there staring into space. Or write blog posts that never get finished. Or, attempt to get back to my writing project and write lots of words that get immediately deleted. I am certain that a book will never be written unless I go to live in a hedgerow in Connemara. Today I have it in my mind to listen to Moby and dance. But first...a walk!

Friday, February 24, 2017

Too Boring For A Title

Ziigy and I took it upon ourselves to book a dog friendly B&B in Cushendall. We spent last Saturday night in solitary bliss after a pleasant walk along the cliff side. On Sunday we took a walk along the beach and it felt very much like spring. The lady who runs the B&B had offered to look after Ziggy so I took her up on this offer so I could get a bit of dinner at one of the local restaurants. When I arrived back I was offered a glass of wine. Having been anti-social the night before I thought it would be nice to get to know my host. She was due to go for dinner with a friend who was making a fleeting visit but a guest was due to checck in and she felt anxious about not knowing what time he'd get there. I told her to go out anyway and I would hold the fort and show him his room. What I really wanted was another night of solitude in my very lovely room but sometimes my desire to be of service to others overrides what I want.

As it turns out the guest who arrived was a lovely person. I showed him around, offered him a cigarette and within 20 minutes we were tackling the deep and meaningful. Our host came back and asked us if we'd like to go to the local pub where we were regaled with traditional music, dancing and singing. The next morning our host drove us to Glenariff forest, which happens to be one of my favourite places up here in the North. Then it was back to butts, back to class, driving lessons, study, counselling and all those things that keep me out of trouble and moving forward.

I do realise it's a disgrace that this is only my second post of the year. But there has been nothing new to say. Gus and I did another open mic night. We didn't corpse and we're playing again tonight at an ice cream parlour. We've had some great nights here at chez Nellybert's jamming with The dog's Dogfather and Mr. Banjo. Tobe, the GCDC's bass player has been around for some fun and vegan food also.

Bobo productions is sizzling away in the background. Creativity abounds and new songs about potatoes and being deadly serious are on the horizon. But, whilst it's important to make time for fun and games lurking at the back of my mind is the fact that I have assignments and deadlines to meet for my course. Hoops to jump, boxes to tick and mountains to climb. But for once in my life I actually believe I can do it.

Thursday, January 05, 2017

First Post of the Year...Don't Get Too Excited

So there you jolly well, flippin' well, blinkin' well go! That's all that nonsense over and done with for another year. This year was the best Christmas I've had in a long time. It didn't take much. All that was required was me not having a broken heart, the cat not peeing on me, not being too sick to eat dinner and dinner being gorgeous because it wasn't a strange clove infused curry. Simples.

New Year was also fun and I even made it to midnight. And now I'm off work for the next three days. I'm almost scared to say it but I think I've just got caught up with myself. I will enjoy this little sea of tranquility because next week the madness begins again giving me the heebie jeebies.

On Christmas day the dogs and I walked down the back lane and t'rough the t'ick of the woods. There was absolute joy in my heart for being in those woods and not having to race back to do coursework. On New Years Day we did the same only Gus joined us. He lisitened to my sinister "woods" song and laughed at my impressions of a wild pig.

Today Ziggy and I are for the beach with a lovely chica I work with. The last time I was asked to go to the beach Ziggy wasn't allowed. We're leaving at 9 and it is now 10 past 8 and Ziggy is still lying under the blankets in bed snoring. The lazy brute. The sun is only just coming up now but I am hopeful it's going to be one of those bright, brisk days. Better wrap up warm. Last night I dreamt of old ladies mittens. The ones that are fur lined and suede on the outside. I also realised yesterday that the span of my hand covers my whole face.

So, off and off I go, to get ready for the beach.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

It's About Time

All those times I slept for 10+ hours at night, I smugly banked them. I knew one day that I would be thankful. I didn't need to see the Great Eclipse of 2000 and whenever. I am also grateful for the fact that I have not wiled hours away watching things like Grease and the LOFT trilogy, or anything else that is deemed as a "must see". I will, however, spend the length of time it takes to watch a film trawling the internet looking for the most obscure/disturbing/enlightening film I can find only to realise that I have no time to wetch it.

But time is such an illusion and so the waste of it is purely subjective. The ways in which I have chosen to "waste" time have been:

Waiting - mostly for transport. I have been also known to wait for lost luggage, technicians, treehouses and soulmates
Sleeping - for me, the nectar of the Gods, the one true escape from reality
Befriending animals - from potentially rabid dogs in Thailand to wee tired and hungry wasps called Julien...One for all and all for One
Getting to Know Myself - not exactly a waste of time but a lot of time has been devoted to it and sometimes the process of getting to know oneself involves a whole lot of nothing in particular, or waiting for transport.

Time, and our use of it, really is matter of perspective. Some people don't have time to wait in queues, or talk to random strangers in the street. Some people think time is money. Time is a construct and it has been constructed to keep us within the regimented timetables ascribed to us by someone else. This is why bosses say "You're on my time now". When I worked in Thailand, they operated in Thai Time, meaning things would get done but only after food had been consumed, naps were taken and it was remembered whatever it was that needed to be done in the first place.

Time is a matter of consequence, and some believe that matter can travel through time. But that's a tricky buisness to be involved in and one that I may or may not get round to blogging about.