Wednesday, December 10, 2014

For Tomorrow

Aha! Some dude (John Perry) has written a book on the Art of Procrastination! I knew there was a purpose to it. My mate told me he had borrowed a book from the library about proccrastination and how to overcome it. Of course, he hasn't read it yet. I don't know what Perry says about it but I am coming up with my own theory that centres around me not feeling bad for not doing the things I'm supposed to be doing. It goes like this: Procrastination is a modern day concept born out of the illusion of time. The notion of 'time' has changed since man was a more simple being. Time was told by the sun and the seasons. Now time is told by numbers (grrr...numbers!) Cavemen did not procrastinate. They did not put off hunting because they were too busy scratching their bums. So, if procrastination is a symptom of modern day society, it is nothing more than a social construct, in which case, it can be deconstructed (Yeah! We're gonna break that bitch down!) Procrastination is just another word we use to make ourselves feel bad. The word itself comes from the Latin pro meaning 'forward' and crastinus meaning 'of tomorrow' so to put another spin on that, it means putting something off 'til tomorrow and that's a good thing because that means you have faith that tomorrow will come.

I think it's good to take the pressure off and go with the flow and believe that things will happen when they're meant to happen. My tutor last year always used to say "trust the process" and "don't force anything". Why we battle with ourselves internally is a mystery. Always believing we should be doing this, that or the other instead of just doing what we want to do. And sometimes we want to build virtual cities and breed virtual fish and then blog about the whole exciting experience.

Is it obvious that I'm putting off doing my final piece of coursework? I did feel it was very important to write this blog. And play guitar. And drink some wine.

Thursday, December 04, 2014

Some Dude Once Said

I must have a quota for how many words I can write in a week. Like an inbuilt one. The poor old blog has had to take a back seat to coursework. Not that it matters much really. And at least I'm keeping busy. I had a wonderful week off work. It involved drinking lots of coffee, staying up late, seeing a few friends, and getting horribly engrossed in a fish tycoon type game. Really, I should have known better. Luckily, though, I was silly enough to download a link that was offering "unlimited metro money" and got myself a nice virus to contend with. That knocked the silly game on the head and taught me the importance of updating my spyware and reinforced the saying that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is.

I don't care for that saying though. I have been shocked at how time consuming my coursework has been. I guess that's because the first time round doing a degree I didn't have to go out and earn a living. And I didn't have a dog that needed walked for an hour everyday. Haha, I recall a time when I longed to write an essay! But as with most things I was all gung ho at the start and when it came to it I was put off by the prospect of having to research. That's the only think that makes me get through the counselling course, the fact that the research I'm doing is into myself and I'd kinda started that anyway. I am out of practice writing academically though and I forgot what a chore referencing is! I was never good at referencing because I was always too lazy to find the source and recalled on my own memory which was hazy at best. I rely on "some dude once said....I think it was kung fu panda but I could be wrong".

Saturday, November 08, 2014

Making A Real Pig's Ear Of It

I really am starting to be more honest with myself. For example, I tell myself I am a very patient person, and I suppose I am in a lot of ways, like I'm much more tolerant of people and they foibles than others and, even if I am feeling the stress of impatience I don't let it show. Today, in work, it was tough going. Soooo many people, so many trollies, so much ducking and diving and squeezing (at one point a lady pushed her trolley tight into the aisle so it wouldn't be in the way of others but she failed to notice that she had also pushed me tight into the aisle.) That wasn't when my patience ran out though. This was at the very end of my shift and I realised I'd lost my phone. Remember that new smart phone I got a while back? The one that tied me onto a contract for two years and I thought, what the hey? I have a dog I might as well have a phone contract! Well, we have an app on our phones that helps us to check if things are in stock and it's definitely made things a lot easier but when I lost my phone I was in despair. I would never have my phone on the shop floor if it wasn't for my manager encouraging everyone to use the app. I thought I was going to have to pay £12.50 for the next year and a half without the luxury of a nice phone. Of course I didn't have insurance. I laugh in the face of insurance. Then there was the fact that I didn't know anybody's number and I'd have to go to the phonebox to call mum and tell her the sad, sad news (I am laughing as I write this).

So I was miserable and feeling sorry for myself and a tear rolled down my cheek. Several people helped me look for it. My wee work mammy was away home early so someone else acted as my surrogate work mammy and marched me to the phone shop to cancel my contract. Then the word spread that my phone had been found! I was so relieved I thought it unimportant to dwell on the fact that I very nearly had a meltdown over the fact that I'd lost a stupid phone. But, why be hard on myself? Better just to learn the lesson and be happy that everything worked out ok.

It has to be said though, I can take no more today and Ziggy has decided he's going to be a pain in the ass. It's been so long since I had to send him to bed that he's pretending he doesn't know what it means anymore. I've bribed him with as a pig's ear which he's demolished already. Now I think I might have got him into some kind of Zen-like way of being.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Clean Rotten

Anyone who knows me will know I'm a nemophilist. I put this down to being raised by hippies but it's also an innate part of me. Like I was an Ewok in a past life or something. For several years now I have been working towards a sophrosyne. I believe this can be achieved through balance and acceptance and, of course, my counselling course is helping me with that. I am a very feeling person and I get excited and passionate easily. I have been affected by not just my own erlebrusse but others'. Sometimes this leaves me koyaanisqatsi and I feel a real fernweh. I feel like I need to be on an adventure. But I hold onto a meliorism and sometimes I am so convinced of this that I am filled with vorfreude. There is the hope and possibility of magic. Anything could happen. I am reminded of my smultronstalle and life is strange and good and weird and fun. I am aware of the sillage of everyone I've ever met, the imprint it left on me. And sometimes,when I'm lucky, I experience a mamihlapinatapai.

One of my favourite websites is stumbleupon because you can learn so much from it. I found this list of unusual words and I decided I'd write a little paragraph using them. So if you need the dictionary here it is. I am completely fascinated by words and language. I always find it funny that we have several sayings here in Ballymena that could be confusing for others. For example, if something is dirty we say it is "clean stinking" or "pure rotten" and if something is amazing we say it is "deadly good" or "weak good".

I am convinced that there was a third part of this post but I've forgotten it. I'm too tired to try to retrieve it so I'll leave it there.

Monday, October 27, 2014

So There You Jolly Well Flippin' Well Blinkin' Well Go

My mind is a strange, strange place. F'rinstance, while walking Ziggy the other day I had a peculiar thought about different types of swearing and the effect it would have on young children. Children who are at an age where they know some things but not most things (though we are always at that age really). There's plain swearing like; shit, f**k, bastard, c**t (that's the order my ma likes to use). Then there's the more colourful style of swearing and this is where it might get confusing for kids. For example, 'Bloody Hell' might seem more tame than 'F**k's Sake' but imagine the visual image it can conjure up for a child. Firey pits of hell, with people screaming and blood EVERYWHERE. Some people like to say 'Holy F**k!' This is confusing and misleading to a child who knows that 'f**k' is a bad word but 'holy' is a good word. Of course, if a child is brought up without those religious connotations then swearing would just be swearing. Plain old swearing. Which I'm not condoning by the way.

Anyway, the thought that lead to those other thoughts was of my mum, who likes to say, 'So there you jolly' well, flippin' well, blinkin' well go' and it made me smile. And there ya go!

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Night In With Neighbours (Not The Twits)

There's that boy Fly again. Super handsome pooch. Ziggy wants to be just like him. As Ziggy grows older I see the dynamics changing. He still adores Judy and Jess but they grew tired of him long ago. Jess doesn't play with him so much. Luckily for Ziggy, Fly is always up for larking around. I have also noticed that Ziggy and Maya, my sister's dog, have become very fond of each other.

I know that Ziggy has grown up because I very rarely send him to bed these days. In fact, I would say that has something to do with the departure of Meka. I wonder if he is better behaved because he thinks in, his little doggy head, that I could very easily get rid of him. Maybe it's just coincidental. He still likes to bark at nothing sometimes but he's a good boy mostly. Older niece agrees with me and I never ask her if Ziggy was a good boy at Granny's anymore. I used to ask her this every Thursday and her answer was always "no" followed by the exact reason why he wasn't a good boy.

We do miss Meka. Ziggy was unsettled for a couple of nights when she went. It took me two weeks to finally take her cage down and give it to Jakers. That was part laziness and part holding on to her and, if I'm totally honest, I'd say it was 70% laziness 30% holding on. I did toy with the idea of getting a couple of baby rats because I thought that they would probably be even closer to Ziggy and sleep curled up in his fur. Then I went to the pet shop and saw two adults who needed to be adopted because nobody wanted them and I thought if I was going to get more rats I'd be better to take the ones nobody wanted. And then I told myself to wise up I had enough to contend with looking after Ziggy.

It's Saturday night again. I have no plans as yet but the night is young. The night is young though I am old. Or at least my body is old and I was partying last Saturday and Wednesday night so if I spend an evening watching old episodes of Neighbours I'll be content.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

A Post About Nothing

Well, life is interesting at the minute! I'm busy but not so busy that I don't have time to bless myself. I just don't have much to write about. The interesting stuff is top secret and requires more information than I care to share but things are, once again, making a lot of sense. I have always believed myself to an ok communicator but there is always room for improvement and I have had quite a lot of conversations recently that have made me realise that I am progressing. I have reconnected with some important people.

I still feel very overwhelmed at times. Just because I am who I am and I do care so much about everyone and everything.

I guess that's why I don't have much to write about, because I'm having all these conversations with different people and I really feel like I'm getting somewhere. There's a lot of laughter and hope. There's a lot of honesty and that's the thing that makes me smile. People are talking to me from their hearts and that's all I've ever wanted.

And music and dance are just as good as writing and words.